CHAPTER III.

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THE NEW BOOTS.
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S they walked together toward the store, Mr. Miles became as much interested in his young companion as his wife could have wished. The child discovered so much intelligence, and had evidently been so well trained, that the superintendent fully agreed with Mrs. Miles, that it was a pity he should not have a chance to go to school.
man walking holding boys hand; other boys watching and pointing Mr. Mills going with Johnny to buy Shoes
Series II, vol. iii, p. 32.

When they reached the store, the gentleman said, laughing,—

"Show us your best goods, now; we want a pair of stout brogans, such as you can warrant will turn water."

"For him?" asked the merchant, nodding his head toward Johnny.

"Yes, for him. You see he needs them badly enough."

"Boots would be better."

"Ah, yes."

Mr. Miles's eyes began to twinkle. He had a happy thought; and so he put Johnny's silver dollar, which he had been twirling by the string, into his vest pocket, and began to examine carefully one pair after another of the boots laid out for him on the counter.

"This is a good pair," he said, at last. "What is the price?"

"Three dollars. I'll warrant those; they are custom made; but they were too small for the child whose mother ordered them. I should have charged her five if they'd suited."

"Yes, I see they're first-rate boots,—what, in the hose line, I should call 'A, number one.' Now I'll tell you what I propose. This little fellow is the son of a widow, who, when my wife found her, had literally not one mouthful of food. Just think of such destitution if you can!—a good Christian, too; but the death of her husband and her own long sickness have exhausted everything. I propose to give half the price, and let you give the other."

"Oh, I can't afford that! Why, I've taken off two dollars already."

"Look here, now," urged Mr. Miles; "I'm going to start a subscription for the benefit of the widow. It would make your heart ache to see how very destitute she is of everything. I want your name down, of course; I must have it. So here goes,—'Allen Manning, one dollar and a half.' There, you'll be glad whenever you think of having made a child happy and comfortable."

"Well, if you say so, I suppose I must."

"Thank you. Now I want your wife to join with mine and just make the widow's hovel a little more tenantable. They'll work together finely, I know. Mrs. Miles says she is sure a little nourishing food will do more for the poor soul than a shop-full of medicine. You see, the poor creature thinks herself in a decline."

Mr. Manning tied up the bundle and handed it to Johnny; and then the two started off for home, the boy having looked the thanks his trembling lips refused to utter.

"Now, Johnny," said Mr. Miles, "here's your medal; wear it around your neck as long as you are a truthful boy. When you tell your first lie, bring it to me."

"I don't dare to tell lies, sir; mother says God hates liars; but 'those that speak the truth are his delight.'"

"That's true doctrine; and here we are."

Mrs. Miles opened the door when she heard her husband's voice, and said, in a pleasant tone, and manner,—

"She learned the stitch in half the time I did."

The proud husband tapped her glowing cheek. I am sure he was thinking what a darling little wife he had. And when Johnny eagerly related the story of the boots, I know she thought,

"That is so like Donald; he has such a noble heart."

"And I have the medal,—I mean the dollar, too, mother. I'm to keep it till I tell a lie."

"Which I hope will never happen, dear. But did you thank our good, generous friends? I have no words to express my gratitude."

"Never mind for words, Mrs. Talbot. Good-night."


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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