He quits this sad community, This cheerful man.' “His wife and six went on the town, And he went off; without a frown Reproaching Providence, went he And got another wife and three, This cheerful man. “He runs a cross-town car to-day From Bleecker Street to Avenue A. He swipes the fares with skilful ease, Keeps up his hope, and tries to please, This cheerful man. “Our life is mingled woe and bliss, Man that is born of woman is Short-lived and goes to his long home. Take heart, and learn a lesson from This cheerful man.” “But,” said Father Wiliston, “don't you think really, Mr. Alley, that the moral is a little confused? I don't mean intentionally,” he added, with anxious precaution, “but don't you think he should have reflected”-- “You're right, Elder,” said Toboso, with decision. “It's like that. It ain't moral. When a thing ain't moral that settles it.” And Boston nodded and looked sympathetic with every one. “I was sure you would agree with me,” said Father Wiliston. He felt himself growing weary now and heavy-eyed. Presently somehow he was leaning on Toboso with his head on his shoulder. Toboso's arm was around him, and Toboso began to hum in a kind of wheezing lullaby, “Hey, Jinny! Ho, Jinny!” “I am very grateful, my dear friends,” murmured Father Wiliston. “I have lived a long time. I fear I have not always been careful in my course, and am often forgetful. I think”--drowsily--“I think that happiness must in itself be pleasing to God. I was often happy before in this room. I remember--my dear mother sat here--who is now dead. We have been quite, really quite cheerful to-night. My mother--was very judicious--an excellent wise woman--she died long ago.” So he was asleep before any one was aware, while Toboso crooned huskily, “Hey, Jinny!” and Boston Alley and the Newark Kid sat upright and stared curiously. “Holy Jims!” said the Kid. Toboso motioned them to bring the pulled grass. They piled it on the settle, let Father Wiliston down softly, brought the broken table, and placed it so that he could not roll off. “Well,” said Toboso, after a moment's silence, “I guess we'd better pick him and be off. He's got sixty in his pocket.” “Oh,” said Boston, “that's it, is it?” “It's my find, but seeing you's here I takes half and give you fifteen apiece.” “Well, that's right.” “And I guess the Kid can take it out.” The Kid found the pocketbook with sensitive gliding fingers, and pulled it out. Toboso counted and divided the bills.