“Your name is even more familiar than your face--perfectly familiar! But as there are more John Smiths than one, I am still unable to place you.” “I sw’ar, stranger, you nuver seen me before this night!” John Smith returned desperately, still with his eager eyes on the door through which he could not escape, because his benefactor’s broad back leaned carelessly against it. “Have you ever seen me before?” continued the doctor carelessly. “No--no, sir, nuver! Has you jist come to the city?” interrogated John Smith weakly. “No, I have been here some time, and will remain all the winter. So if you ever want to see me again just look up Doctor Ludington at the ---- Hospital,” the young man answered, impelled by an inexplicable goading within himself to give this information and even supplementing it by putting his professional card into the other’s hand, reluctantly extended, though on top of it the doctor placed a banknote, adding: “Take this to buy you some clothing, and food, and lodging until you find work. Now, good night, and good luck to you, John Smith.” The fellow forgot to notice that the doctor had moved from the door, he was so dazed by the sight of the crisp fifty-dollar note. Heaven alone knew what wealth it seemed to the penniless, tattered, hunger-goaded wretch who had just denied his birthright, his name, and his home through abject fear. What glowing visions danced before his eyes as he clutched the bit of green paper that meant so much to him--food for his famished stomach, clothing for his freezing body, shelter for his homeless head! He gasped weakly: “The Lord bless you, doctor. I’ll nuver fergit that, this is a fortune.” “Poor fellow, if fifty dollars seems like a fortune, take it, and welcome, and I am glad I can afford to make you happy at so small a cost. And look you, John Smith, if I never see you again, remember this night, and that the man that helped you told you it was the grandest thing on earth to make others happy. If you are in trouble it will take the sting out of your own pain.” “The Lord bless you, doctor. I’ll nuver fergit that, shore, and, by gum! if I ever git a chanst to make some one else happy as I am this minit, I’ll try it on ’em, for your sake, that I will. So good night, doc, good night,” and the fellow shambled out, trying to keep his face in shadow to prevent an undesired recognition. The young doctor, while waiting to settle his bill, soliloquized: