"I am glad to see you," said Mr. Bing. "Is this--is this Mr. J. Patterson Bing?" the Shepherd asked, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Yes, and it is my fault that you do not know me better. I want to be your friend." The Shepherd put his handkerchief over his eyes. His voice trembled when he said: "You have been very kind to us." "But I'm really hoping to do something for you," Mr. Bing assured him. "I've brought a great surgeon from New York who thinks he can help you. He will be over to see you in the morning." They had a half-hour's visit with the little Shepherd. Mr. Bing, who was a judge of good pictures, said that the boy's work showed great promise and that his picture of the mother and child would bring a good price if he cared to sell it. When they arose to go, Mr. Blenkinsop thanked the mill owner for his Christmas suit. "Don't mention it," said Mr. Bing. "Well, it mentions itself purty middlin' often," Mr. Blenkinsop laughed. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" the former asked. "Well, sir, to tell ye the dead hones' truth, I've got a new ambition," said Mr. Blenkinsop. "I've thought of it nights a good deal. I'd like to be sextunt o' the church an' ring that ol' bell." "We'll see what can be done about it," Mr. Bing answered with a laugh, as they went down-stairs with Judge Crooker, followed by the dog Christmas, who scampered around them on the street with a merry growl of challenge, as if the spirit of the day were in him. "What is it that makes the boy so appealing?" Mr. Bing asked of the Judge. "He has a wonderful personality," Mrs. Bing remarked. "Yes, he has that. But the thing that underlies and shines through it is his great attraction." "What do you call it?" Mrs. Bing asked. "A clean and noble spirit! Is there any other thing in this world that, in itself, is really worth having?" "Compared with him, I recognize that I am very poor indeed," said J. Patterson Bing. "You are what I would call a promising young man," the Judge answered. "If you don't get discouraged, you're going to amount to something. I am glad because you are, in a sense, the father of the great family of Bingville." THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Prodigal Village, by Irving Bacheller