-f
 
 THE 
 
 BOSTON BOY. 
 
 BY 
 
 LOUIS HENRY. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 GRAVES AND ELLIS. 
 
 1872.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, 
 
 By GRAVES AND ELLIS, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
 19 Spring Lane.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE maxim that " Honesty is the best 
 policy," is a true one ; and yet, if followed lit- 
 erally, it is not expressive of the motive which 
 should actuate one in his intercourse with 
 his fellow-creatures ; for there are multitudes 
 who are deterred from the commission of 
 crime, not because of its wickedness, but be- 
 cause public opinion makes it unpopular,' 
 dangerous, and disgraceful, if detected. 
 
 That high moral principle, aided and in- 
 spired from above, which teaches that honesty 
 is right, and dishonesty is wrong, is the only 
 protection in the hour of temptation, and af-
 
 , PREFACE. 
 
 fords the only real consolation under unjust 
 accusation or suspicion. 
 
 In introducing to the reader a few of his 
 friends, the Author is hopeful that the truth 
 of the foregoing may be proven ; and with 
 these preliminaries, presents his work to their 
 attention,
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. LEAVING HOME 7 
 
 II. ENTERING BUSINESS 21 
 
 III. AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY 35 
 
 IV. THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. ... 48 
 V. DISTRESS AND RELIEF 62 
 
 VI. HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. . . 82 
 
 VII. FIRST VISIT HOME 97 
 
 VIII. A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST 113 
 
 IX. THE TRIAL 128 
 
 X. THE JAIL 145 
 
 XI. OFF FOR CHINA 164 
 
 XII. ILLNESS AND RECOVERY 178 
 
 XIH. MORE CRIME DISCOVERED 186 
 
 XIV. ANOTHER ARREST 202 
 
 XV. THE PROMOTION 214 
 
 XVI. THE VOYAGER RETURNED. ..,..,. 228 
 
 XVII. BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. . . . . 243' 
 
 XVIII. NEW RELATIONS.. 260 
 
 XIX. REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 276 
 
 XX. CONCLUSION 288 
 
 5
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LEAVING HOME. 
 
 EORGE HUTCHINS was the son 
 of a widow. She had been a 
 widow many years, and since her 
 husband's death she had labored earnestly and 
 affectionately to promote the welfare and hap- 
 piness of him, who seemed to her to be the 
 last remaining tie to bind her to earth, her 
 only child. 
 
 Though she was by no means rich, she was 
 in comfortable circumstances ; and no under- 
 taking was proposed, having for its object the 
 amelioration of suffering in the community ; 
 no charity destined to relieve poverty ; no 
 
 7
 
 8 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 project intended to improve the condition of 
 her fellow-beings, but found in her an ardent 
 supporter and an indefatigable laborer. So 
 attentive was she to ever/ call for relief, and 
 so prompt in her response, and so much re- 
 spected by all who knew her for her many 
 Christian virtues, that she was known as, and 
 called by her neighbors and acquaintances, 
 " Mother Hutchins." 
 
 Henry Clement's parents moved in a differ- 
 ent circle. His father was a retired merchant, , 
 and was now enjoying the respite from care 
 which his long and successful business life 
 warranted. His mother, although almost idol- 
 izing her husband and children, occupied a 
 position in society which her long residence in 
 the city had so well prepared her to fill, the 
 leader of the fashion in the town ; and the 
 gay garments and costly jewelry of his sisters, 
 Fanny and Louise, were the admiration and 
 
 envy of all the young ladies of B , while 
 
 the liberality of his parents constantly placed 
 Henry in possession of the newest and most 
 valuable gifts, which his generous disposition
 
 LEAVING HOME. 9 
 
 found additional delight in, as affording him 
 means of contributing to the enjoyment of his 
 associates. On Sundays this family usually 
 attended church in the morning ; but the 
 more jealous of the community attributed this 
 to a love of display, rather than a disposition 
 to worship God. The afternoon was generally 
 spent in riding, or other recreation. 
 
 One of these boys, reared amid scenes of 
 splendor and fashion, the other in the society 
 and under the gentle restraint of a Christian 
 mother's love ; one inheriting the belief that 
 the highest aim of life was the pursuit of 
 pleasure, the other, early in life dedicated by a 
 mother's prayers to God, and stimulated by her 
 example, it is not singular that in many re- 
 spects they were dissimilar, and yet they were 
 firm, fast friends. 
 
 They were neighbors ; had been school- 
 mates since early childhood, in one of the 
 pleasantest towns of Western Massachusetts, 
 and were almost inseparable companions, but 
 were now, at the age of sixteen, about to be 
 parted for the first time. On a lovely Sun-
 
 IO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 day afternoon, early in September, 18 , they 
 might have been seen walking together, en- 
 gaged in earnest conversation, during which 
 the following dialogue occurred : 
 
 " Come, George, as this is to be your last 
 day at home for a long time, go with me and 
 take a sail on the pond this afternoon. I 
 shall be very lonesome when you're gone, so 
 let's spend the rest of the day together, and 
 make the most of it." 
 
 " Henry, I am going away to-morrow, and 
 should be happy to oblige you on any other 
 day ; but it is Sunday, and I never did, and 
 never will break the Sabbath while I live. 
 You have known me long enough to believe 
 that I would please you in anything that is 
 right, but my conscience tells me it would be 
 doing wrong ; still we need not be separated, 
 for I am going to Sunday school and to 
 church, and should like to have you go with 
 me. Will you ? " Seeing that he hesitated, 
 George continued, 
 
 " Yes, Henry, please me on this my last 
 day at home by going to church with me ;
 
 LEAVING HOME. II 
 
 it will be a long time before we see each other 
 again." 
 
 " Well, George, to please you, I will." 
 Mrs. Hutchins had a brother living near 
 Boston, a Mr. Wood, and through his influ- 
 ence a situation had been procured for George 
 
 in a mercantile house in P Street, in that 
 
 city ; and the day following the conversation 
 he was, for the first time in his life, to leave 
 home and its attractions, his dear mother and 
 her loving protection, and commence life in 
 the busy metropolis, a situation of peril to 
 all, of destruction to many. But, unlike 
 many, he had a devoted mother's prayers to 
 support him, and all her kind admonitions 
 to warn him. In addition, he had received 
 faithful instructions in the Sabbath school, 
 and from the pulpit ; and it was to God's 
 house he preferred to go, rather than to pass 
 the afternoon in the amusement suggested by 
 his companion. Did those prayers and in- 
 structions prove of any advantage to him ? 
 We shall see.
 
 12 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 The service over, they slowly returned to- 
 wards home. The hour was rapidly approach- 
 ing which would separate the companions for 
 months, perhaps forever ; and up to this time 
 no conversation, except of a secular character, 
 had ever been entertained between them. For 
 some distance they journeyed on, each ap- 
 parently lost in his own reflections, when the 
 silence was broken by George, who, address- 
 ing his companion, said, " Henry, I do not feel 
 that I can go away and leave you, without 
 saying something that has been in my heart 
 for a long time a duty which I have shrunk 
 from until this hour ; but as I may never have 
 another opportunity, I have been praying God 
 to give me strength to speak, and you will- 
 ingness to hear, and that his blessing may 
 attend whatever of good my feeble lips may 
 utter. Henry, I think I am a Christian ; I 
 have not yet made a public profession of re- 
 ligion, but I have an inward peace which 
 'pa,sseth all understanding,' and I received 
 it in answer to prayer. I have often prayed 
 for you that you might enjoy this heavenly
 
 LEAVING HOME. 13 
 
 peace, and often intended to speak to you on 
 this subject ; but fear of your ridicule and that 
 of others has prevented me till now, when 
 the memory of so many misspent privileges 
 crowds upon me, and in view of a possibility 
 that this might be my last opportunity, I 
 could not keep silent. Henry, I do want to 
 see you a Christian ; not altogether such a 
 one as I am, but a true follower of Jesus. 
 Your happiness in this world, will be increased 
 while you have the assurance of an eternity 
 to be spent in praising God for his grace, 
 which is sufficient to cleanse from all sin. 
 Now, will you not promise me that you will 
 give your heart to God ? " 
 
 The sensitive nature of Henry gave way 
 under these gentle words from George's lips, 
 his eyes filled with tears, and his quivering 
 lip could only reply, " George, I will try." 
 The two boys then separated, each to his own 
 residence. 
 
 On reaching home, and after partaking of 
 their evening meal, Mrs. Hutchins and her 
 son engaged in such conversation as would
 
 14 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 be natural in a Christian household under 
 such circumstances. His past life having 
 been spent entirely under her observation, 
 and having been uniformly satisfactory to 
 her, it was not without many misgivings that 
 she had consented to his departure for the 
 metropolis, where new and untried scenes 
 awaited him, and temptations and danger 
 would assail and threaten on every hand. 
 How earnestly did she pray, that God, who 
 had so mercifully shielded him at home, would 
 protect him abroad! and after a long and 
 fervent appeal to Heaven for a blessing on her 
 darling, they separated for the night. 
 
 The morning sun rose brightly, and the 
 mother and son sat down to their last meal 
 together for months, -and it require^ all the 
 fortitude at her command to enable Mrs. 
 Hutchins to retain the composure she had 
 schooled herself to exhibit on this occasion, 
 and the failure to preserve which would only 
 be the key-note to a scene of distress at the 
 approaching separation which she would fain 
 spare George, even at the risk of breaking her
 
 LEAVING HOME. IS 
 
 own heart. Breakfast over, the hour had now 
 come for the parting. The stage was halting 
 at the village post office, in sight, and would 
 soon call for the young traveller. Clasped in 
 his mother's arms, George, after returning her 
 embrace, promised to so conduct himself as 
 to merit the confidence and esteem of his 
 employers, and above all, to do his duty to- 
 wards God and those in whose society he 
 might be placed. " Good by, dear mother," 
 and " God bless you, my son," had been said, 
 the whip cracked, the wheels rolled rapidly, 
 and soon miles separated the affectionate pair. 
 George fortunately found himself compar- 
 atively alone, there being but one other pas- 
 senger inside ; and he not appearing disposed 
 to be very communicative, George had full 
 liberty to commune with his own thoughts ; 
 and sad as they were, he felt that he could 
 not be interrupted. So, silently he was rap- 
 pidly driven to the railroad station, whence 
 he took the cars to Boston, reaching there 
 early in the afternoon. He left his trunk at 
 the depot in charge of the baggage-master,
 
 1 6 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 and, greeting his uncle who was waiting for 
 him, in company they were soon on their way 
 to meet his new employers, Messrs. Wilder & 
 Clark. This firm was engaged in quite an 
 extensive business, having a branch house in 
 New York ; the senior partner controlling the 
 Boston establishment, while the junior super- 
 intended the business at New York. George 
 had never seen either of these gentlemen ; but 
 the excellent recommendation he had received 
 of him from Mr. Wood so thoroughly sat- 
 isfied Mr. Wilder, that he was prepared to 
 give the young man a cordial reception ; and 
 granting him the balance of the day to settle 
 in his new boarding-place, he was directed to 
 report on the following morning, at half past 
 seven. Mr. Wood resided a few miles from 
 Boston, a distance too great to admit of a 
 home for George, so a boarding-house had 
 been selected as near the store as possible ; 
 and having introduced him there, and seen 
 him located, his uncle left for home. 
 
 Mrs. Rice, the lady with whom George is 
 now settled, is a widow, having five children ;
 
 LEAVING HOME. I/ 
 
 Joseph, of about George's age, and the rest 
 much younger. There were at her house 
 eight boarders, nearly all senior to our young 
 friend, and all engaged as clerks in various 
 mercantile establishments " down town." 
 
 After tea, a general introduction took place ; 
 soon after which most of the young men went 
 out for pleasure or business, and George was 
 left in the society of a young man, a very little 
 older than himself, apparently, to whom he 
 had been introduced as his room-mate, and 
 named Robert Ashley. Robert was employed 
 
 in a dry goods establishment in C Street, 
 
 and had boarded with Mrs. Rice for several 
 months. It does not usually require much 
 time for young persons of their ages to be- 
 come acquainted, and these boys were no 
 exception to the general rule ; and before 
 bed-time came, they were conversing with as 
 much freedom as if their intimacy had been 
 of years' duration, instead of a few hours. But 
 boys are also students of human nature ; and 
 George was not long in detecting, in the flip- 
 pant way in which his companion alluded to 
 
 2
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 sacred things, that this was not the sort of 
 room-mate his mother would have selected. 
 But he could not help it ; such was his lot ; 
 and his hope now was that he might be of 
 service to the young man. Here was mission- 
 ary work for him at the outset. At last bed- 
 time came, and the two ascended the stairs 
 together. Robert hastily commenced to re- 
 move his clothing, while George drew from 
 his trunk his Bible, a gift from his mother, 
 and to the astonishment of the former, began 
 to read to himself. He read but a short chap- 
 ter, amid the jeers of his room-mate, then 
 rose, and, turning to Robert, said, " I always 
 pray before going to bed ; won't you kneel 
 down with me ? " but he received no distinct 
 re ply a sneer was all ; and George knelt 
 alone, asking forgiveness for the sins of the 
 past day, and placing himself and companions 
 under God's protecting care for the night. 
 On rising from his knees, Robert took oc- 
 casion to say to him, " When you've been in 
 Boston as long as I have, I guess you'll give 
 up praying, to the parsons." George knew
 
 LEAVING HOME. 1 9 
 
 now the character of his companion, and his 
 duty was plain, and he made up his mind to 
 do it ; how well, we shall see in time. 
 
 It must not be supposed that this was no 
 cross to George, nor that he was not tempted 
 to omit it " for this once," a way in which 
 temptation frequently comes. But George 
 had promised his mother and his mother's 
 God to undertake every duty, and to look to 
 Heaven for assistance to perform it ; and it 
 was fortunate for him that he did not neglect 
 it this first night, for later in their acquaint- 
 ance he would have found it more difficult 
 to comply. Nor must it be considered that 
 Robert looked upon this innovation as some- 
 thing he was willing to tolerate ; but their in- 
 tercourse had been of so short duration, that 
 he made no special demonstration of the bit- 
 ter thoughts he entertained. George little 
 knows the annoyances and temptations to 
 which he will be subjected. 
 
 His repose that night was not as sweet as 
 in his own little room at home ; and it was 
 long after he had retired before nature as-
 
 2O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 serted her sway, his thoughts were so full 
 \ 
 
 of the new scenes before him, of the trying 
 ordeal through which he had just passed, and 
 which he had reason to suppose would come 
 again with increased power ; but the conscious- 
 ness of duty performed finally conquered, and 
 when he awoke, it was to find the sun shining 
 brightly, and his companion gone. He arose 
 and dressed quickly, knelt for a blessing for 
 the clay, joined the circle in the breakfast- 
 room, and hastened to his store, reaching there 
 at seven a'clock, a half hour earlier than 
 he was ordered to be present, and almost as 
 soon as the porter, who was engaged in sweep- 
 ing and dusting the counting-room.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 
 
 T half past seven, Mr. Charles But- 
 ler, the book-keeper, entered, and 
 taking out the books, commenced a 
 conversation by asking George his name* and 
 age, whether he had ever been in a store be- 
 fore, if he understood book-keeping, &c. ; then, 
 handing him a pile of bills and a paper-cutter, 
 and assigning him a position near him at the 
 desk, directed him to file them neatly and 
 squarely. George had enjoyed the advantages 
 of a good common school education, and his 
 penmanship was unusually good for one of his 
 age ; and when the duty was accomplished, 
 the legibility of the writing, and general 
 neatness, elicited praise from Mr. Wilder, who 
 happened to be present ; and even Mr. Butler, 
 extra particular as he was, could find no op- 
 
 21
 
 22 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 portunity to express himself in his usual 
 'fault-finding style. 
 
 Later in the day, Mr. Wilder called George 
 aside, and in a few remarks, said to him, " I 
 have been obliged to discharge from my em- 
 ploy a young man, who had been with us 
 more than a year, and in whom I have placed 
 the utmost confidence. I sent him, as I pro- 
 pose to send you, daily to the bank, and 
 found no cause for suspicion, until, some weeks 
 ago, when rumors of extravagance in his 
 habits, and frequent visits to the theatre, and 
 other places which I knew his salary could 
 not afford, reached me, and I was led to keep 
 a watchful eye over him. My plans to detect 
 him it is unnecessary to expose ; suffice it to 
 say, the terrible conviction that I was be- 
 ing robbed forced itself upon me, with the 
 certainty that he had been pursuing a wrong 
 course for months. I had had the -most un- 
 limited belief in his integrity, and felt if I 
 could not trust him, whom could I trust ? I 
 determined to make a public example of him ; 
 but his mother's tears, and the almost certainty
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 23 
 
 that exposure would be his ruin for life, in- 
 duced me to alter my decision ; and after his 
 confession and a partial restoration, I gave 
 him his discharge, with much good advice, 
 and firmly resolved to dispense with the 
 services of any one in his place ; but as the 
 fall trade is approaching, finding that I must 
 have more assistance, I accidentally alluded to 
 it in the presence of your uncle, and you were 
 mentioned tome; so on his recommendation 
 I am going to try you. I have heard a good 
 report of you ; that you are a smart, willing, 
 faithful lad, and what to me is of more con- 
 sequence, that you are a Christian. I shall 
 trust you ; and I am satisfied you will not 
 disappoint me. You will find a vacancy in 
 my pew at church, and I shall be happy 
 to see you there and at the Sabbath school. 
 Your pay will be four hundred dollars the 
 first year, and if you exert yourself, as I am 
 confident you are capable of doing, I am 
 satisfied you will in time render your ser- 
 vices more valuable to me." 
 
 George, who had listened respectfully to the
 
 2 4 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 remarks of his employer, replied that he was 
 determined, with divine assistance, to conduct 
 himself in such a way as to merit his patron's 
 esteem ; he said that he trusted his sins had 
 been forgiven, and promised to devote him- 
 self diligently to business : at the same time 
 he gratefully accepted the invitation, so gen- 
 erously tendered him, to attend services at 
 the church and Sabbath school. 
 
 As time advanced, and the restraint with- 
 which a first acquaintance is always sur- 
 rounded passed off, Robert Ashley made his 
 appearance in his true character, and George 
 was soon satisfied that his company was 
 neither congenial nor productive of good to 
 him ; and all his efforts to win his room- mate's 
 confidence, and furnish him with a good ex- 
 cuse for interposing a word of caution or 
 counsel, proved unavailing. Nearly all Rob- 
 ert's evenings were spent away from his 
 boarding-house, and principally at the theatre, 
 to which he frequently invited George; and 
 once he came up to bed in a condition of 
 unmistakable inebriation. His companions
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 25 
 
 were principally the lower classes of actors 
 or theatre frequenters, and his conversation, 
 now frequently interlarded with oaths, had 
 constant reference to the scenes he had 
 witnessed, and the persons participating. 
 To his invitations to visit the play-house, 
 George had always returned an emphatic 
 negative, and at first mildly endeavored to 
 dissuade him from his course, and as a means 
 of amusement, solicited his company to the 
 library room of the Young Men's Christian 
 Association, of which George had just become 
 a member ; and he did accept his invitation 
 once, but finding its influences too restraining, 
 he left at an early hour, to seek pleasure 
 where he had previously met kindred spirits. 
 Finding entreaty of no avail, and Robert's 
 habits daily growing worse, George could 
 endure it no longer, and requested Mrs. Rice 
 to provide him with another room, where he 
 could have a more quiet and agreeable com- 
 panion. Her domestic arrangements, however, 
 were of such a nature as to render it im- 
 possible to make a change at present, unless
 
 26 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 
 
 he should choose to occupy a single room, 
 which his limited salary woukl not warrant ; 
 but she promised him that, as soon as she 
 could, she would oblige him. 
 
 He had, from his first Sabbath in the city, 
 taken his seat regularly in Mr. Wilder's pew, 
 and became a member of a Bible class. His 
 attention to his religious duties soon became 
 a subject of observation and remark in the 
 church and Sabbath school, although he 
 was very unobtrusive in his piety and modest 
 in his general deportment ; and his employer, 
 Mr. Wilder, observed with delight the readi- 
 ness with which he transacted the business 
 assigned him, while his example for modesty, 
 devotion to duty, and habitual good temper 
 were so great an improvement on boys they 
 had previously employed, and so marked in 
 comparison with his immediate predecessor, 
 that he very soon became a favorite with 
 all but Mr. Butler, the book-keeper, who from 
 the first had permitted no opportunity to pass 
 without exhibiting his hatred ; a feeling which 
 was aggravated day by day, as he noticed the
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 2/ 
 
 attachment felt towards him by all the rest, 
 grow steadily stronger. Still, he could not 
 charge him with a single act of neglect, or 
 the violation of the least important rule of 
 the establishment ; and George, conscious of 
 the feeling of dislike entertained towards him, 
 and which the book-keeper took no pains to 
 conceal, only labored the more assiduously to 
 make himself useful, and exerted himself to 
 perform little acts of kindness, in the hope 
 of conciliating good feeling. To give George's 
 impressions of his position, both at home and 
 at the store, it may be well to introduce a 
 short letter he wrote to his mother after he 
 had been in the store a few weeks. 
 
 "BOSTON, October 29, 18 . 
 " MY DEAR MOTHER : I received your kind 
 letter, and hasten to reply. You seem to 
 think that I have too little to say about my 
 business affairs and boarding-house compan- 
 ions. If I have been silent on this subject, 
 it is not for want of any interest in either ; 
 but that you may not think my silence is
 
 28 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 caused by a desire to keep anything from 
 y^u, I will give you a full account of every- 
 thing on the subject that you should know, 
 or that I think may interest you, begging you 
 never to think for a moment that I would 
 have a secret from her I love best on earth. 
 First, then, I am still boarding with Mrs. Rice, 
 and still have Robert Ashley for a room-mate. 
 I fear he is a bad boy ; my heart is often 
 pained by his profanity and light remarks on 
 religious subjects. I have talked to him, and 
 he receives all I say with a sneer or open 
 ridicule ; all I can do now, is to pray for 
 him, and that I do daily: O, how I should 
 rejoice if I could see him a Christian ! So 
 open is he in his opposition to religion in 
 general, and to my efforts to be consistent 
 in particular, that after bearing it as long 
 as I could, I was obliged to request Mrs. 
 Rice for a change of room ; but her house 
 is so full, that she cannot make a change at 
 present. I shall not relax my efforts for his 
 good, but it does seem as if it would be
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 29 
 
 almost a miracle if he should become a pray- 
 ing young man. 
 
 " My Delations at the store are of the pleas- 
 antest nature, with one exception ; although 
 I try to do my best, I cannot please Mr. But- 
 ler, the book-keeper. Mr. Wilder, and all the 
 rest, are agreeable, and by their manner I can 
 see that I 'give them satisfaction ; but let me 
 do what I will, I have to this moment failed 
 to hear one kind word from .Mr. Butler, and 
 he finds fault with my best endeavors. Why, 
 I cannot tell ; but from the first, he seemed 
 to take, a dislike to me. I shall continue to 
 do right, but it is hard to work when people 
 seem determined to be displeased with every- 
 thing. Uncle has been in to see me several 
 times, but I have never mentioned this to him 
 or anybody else ; nor should I trouble you 
 now, but for my determination to keep noth- 
 ing from my dear mother. 
 
 " Now, mother, I have something to say to 
 you, and a favor to ask. One of our boarders 
 attends a Business College, and . tells me he 
 has not only improved his handwriting, but
 
 3O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 is learning book-keeping, in which he is very 
 much interested. I should like to go, but it 
 is expensive, and I do not feel as if I could 
 afford it on my present pay. I send you a 
 circular stating terms. Now, if you approve 
 of my plan, and are willing to allow me 
 enough to pay one half my tuition, I can make 
 out the balance. I would not ask you to do 
 this if it were for amusement alone ; but I 
 think I shall improve sufficiently to make my- 
 self more valuable at the store, and perhaps 
 by and by my salary will be increased. Hop- 
 ing you will think favorably of my plan, and 
 with much love, 
 
 " I am your affectionate son, 
 
 " GEORGE." 
 
 Not many days after the receipt of this let- 
 ter his mother replied to him, offering him 
 what advice, sympathy, and encouragement 
 she conceived the necessities of the case de- 
 manded. But after all, she was glad to know 
 his trials were of so trifling a character ; for 
 in her anxiety for his welfare, and suspicions
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 31 
 
 that something was wrong, her imagination 
 had pictured a thousand troubles, all of a much 
 more serious nature than the facts had war- 
 ranted. She concluded her letter by heartily 
 indorsing his proposition to attend the school, 
 and enclosed him a sum sufficiently large to 
 meet the expenses, and he lost no time in 
 securing admission to the college, where he 
 was to be found every evening that there was 
 no religious meeting to attend. 
 
 Our young friend had been about three 
 months in the store, when an opportunity 
 presented itself, to Mr. Butler's delight, for 
 that gentleman to open his heart in a manner 
 never heretofore presented. The bank ac- 
 count had been made up, and at 12 M. (the 
 usual hour for the transaction of that business) 
 George was despatched to make the regular 
 deposit, to draw a check for one thousand dol- 
 lars for payment of small bills at the store, 
 and to leave an order at an Express office 
 in Court Square, receiving the stereotype 
 direction from Mr. Butler, " Don't be gone all 
 day," a charge as regularly imposed as neces-
 
 32 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 sity for his absence was demanded. On this 
 occasion George proceeded ~ rapidly, as usual, 
 and after attending to his bank business, saw 
 the receiving teller record the amount of the 
 deposit on his book ; he then went to the 
 paying teller, received his thousand dollars in 
 small bills, and putting them into a pocket-book, 
 carried for the purpose, placed the book in 
 his pocket, and hurried up State Street, to- 
 wards the Express office. As he was about 
 to cross Court Street, a large number of 
 persons were waiting for teams to pass, in 
 order to afford them an opportunity to gain 
 the opposite side, when, just as a heavy 
 omnibus, filled with passengers, was passing, 
 a young girl, in attempting to run across the 
 street, was knocked down by one of the 
 horses. George, reckless of the danger, sprang 
 to her relief, and succeeded in drawing her 
 from under the horses' feet as the wheel was 
 about to crush her, while a bystander caught 
 her and conveyed her to a place of safety. 
 But the heroic act caused George a serious 
 misfortune, for a part of the harness caught
 
 ENTERING BUSINESS. 33 
 
 his clothing ; he was thrown down, striking 
 heavily on his head and right arm, and barely 
 escaping with his life, for the horses were 
 checked just soon enough to prevent the 
 wheel passing over his body. The accident, 
 and the noble act which led to it, had been 
 seen by several. George was taken to an 
 apothecary store near by, by friendly assist- 
 ance, and a physician called. He found no 
 bones broken, although the patient was se- 
 verely bruised. As soon as he recovered his 
 consciousness sufficiently to give his name and 
 residence, he was at once carried home in a 
 carriage, accompanied by a police officer and 
 the physician. He was taken to his room, 
 and a more thorough examination of his in- 
 juries made, resulting in the doctor's express- 
 ing the belief that George would be able to 
 be out in a very few days. 
 
 After the departure of the physician, 
 George's pain being somewhat relieved, he 
 remembered the errand on which he had been 
 sent, and particularly that he still had pos- 
 session of the bank book and pocket-book 
 3
 
 34 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 containing the money. So, looking around 
 the room, which was full of sympathizing 
 friends, for it was about the regular dinner 
 hour, and all the boarders had been in to 
 condole with him, he remarked that he wished 
 he could send down word by some one to his 
 employer that it was an accident that pre- 
 vented his returning promptly, and also that 
 the money was safe in his possession, and 
 desiring that some one might be sent from 
 the store to receive the funds, not wishing to 
 risk them out of his hands until they were 
 safely restored to the owner. Robert, who 
 was standing by his bedside, volunteered to do 
 the errand, and having eaten his dinner, start- 
 ed for his own store, promising to call in at 
 George's employers' on his way, relate the cir- 
 cumstances, and return the bank book. " You 
 won't forget it, will you, Robert ? for it is very 
 important," said George, dreading even under 
 this affliction the anger of Mr. Butler. " No ! 
 I'll attend to it right off," said Robert, and at 
 once left the house.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 
 
 SHORT time after George had start- 
 ed from the store to transact the 
 business intrusted to him, Mr. 
 Wilder, having an important communication 
 to send away, inquired of Mr. Butler where 
 George was. He replied, " I sent him to the 
 bank and express office, but he's been gone 
 long enough to go there twice. I do think 
 he's the laziest boy I ever saw." 
 
 " I have never discovered laziness to be one 
 of his attributes," said Mr. Wilder. " He has 
 always appeared to me to be a remarkably 
 sprightly boy ; but this is not the first time I 
 have heard you find fault with him. Have 
 you any other cause for complaint ? for if that 
 
 35
 
 36 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 is his only failing, we have great reason for 
 joy, as from what I have seen of him, I am 
 sure he will correct it. He is evidently en- 
 deavoring to give satisfaction, and I would sug- 
 gest that you give him a gentle hint to be more 
 expeditious when sent away from the store." 
 
 "I have spoken to him of this matter re- 
 peatedly, Mr. Wilder, but it does not seem 
 to have any effect ; and now we are speaking 
 of it, I feel that it is my duty to say that I 
 do not altogether admire the boy's appear- 
 ance. I think he is two-faced, and if not a 
 rogue at heart, I am very much mistaken." 
 
 " Two-faced ? roguish ? What do you mean ? 
 You surprise me, Mr. Butler. I do not re- 
 member having ever met a boy who bore on 
 his countenance marks of more ingenuousness. 
 I have been very watchful over him, and deep- 
 ly interested in his success, and it will be a 
 terrible blow to me if compelled to believe in 
 his duplicity. What evidence do you think 
 you possess of his artfulness ? " 
 
 " None, positively ; but my general impres- 
 sion of him has been bad from the first time
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 3/ 
 
 I saw him, and soon my suspicions were 
 aroused ; and I also have been watching him 
 for some time, out of the store as well as in. 
 I have hesitated to allude to it before, know- 
 ing him to be so great a favorite with you, 
 but my sense of duty could forbear no longer. 
 I have frequently met him in the street as 
 late as half past ten at night, and it seems to 
 me that a boy of his age should be at home 
 at that hour." 
 
 " There may be an excellent reason for his 
 being in the street, for the sexton of our 
 church is not more constant in his attend- 
 ance on evening meetings than George has 
 been ever since he came to the city." 
 
 " What evenings do you hold your meet- 
 ings, sir ? " 
 
 " Tuesday and Friday." 
 
 "Well, sir, it happens that I am in the 
 habit of calling on a particular friend regu- 
 larly on Monday and Thursday evenings, and 
 it has been on those particular nights that I 
 have seen George as I was returning home. 
 Once when I spoke to him about being gone
 
 38 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 too long on an errand, he told me that he 
 was a stranger in the city, and not knowing 
 the shortest distance to places, it took him 
 longer. Perhaps he goes out nights to learn 
 these short cuts," ironically added Mr. Butler. 
 Seeing Mr. Wilder still look incredulous, he 
 added, " I shall, with your consent, take thor- 
 ough steps to ascertain the truth or falsity of my 
 impressions, and think ere long you even will 
 acknowledge that I can read character cor- 
 rectly." 
 
 " I shall certainly consent to any proper 
 steps being taken to advance my interests, 
 even at the expense of my proving a dupe 
 in this matter," replied Mr. Wilder. " But I 
 shall continue to cherish the hope that you are 
 mistaken. I feel obliged to you for your in- 
 terest in my business, and assure you I shall 
 not prize your devotion less if your fears 
 prove to be groundless ; but it is indeed 
 strange that he is so long away. You will 
 please detain him on his return, as I wish to 
 send him away before he goes to dinner." 
 
 Mr. Wilder had hardly seated himself in
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 39 
 
 his private office, when Mr. Thomas, a prom- 
 inent member of the church with which Mr. 
 Wilder was connected, and who was the 
 teacher of the Bible class to which George 
 belonged, dropped in, and inquired for the 
 latter. Finding he was expected every mo- 
 ment, Mr. Thomas joined Mr. Wilder in his 
 room to wait for the young man. 
 
 Time passed on, and it was almost two 
 o'clock, and George had not returned. Where 
 can he be ? Even Mr. Wilder began to be 
 alarmed, while Mr. Butler's countenance told 
 the lie to his words when he remarked, " I'm 
 afraid something has happened to him." Mr. 
 Thomas having exhausted all the time at his 
 disposal, started to go, when Mr. Wilder asked 
 him if he would like to leave a message for 
 George, as he must have stopped to go to 
 dinner before returning to the store. In this 
 way he tried to account for the mysterious 
 absence, though really it afforded but little 
 consolation to his anxiety. 
 
 " No, Mr. Wilder, I will leave no message ; 
 but as we are both deeply interested in the
 
 4O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 lad, I will tell you my business with him. I 
 have seen George several times lately in com- 
 pany with a young man by the name of Rob- 
 ert Ashley, as I have ascertained, who does 
 not bear a good reputation, and I desired to 
 see him, to remonstrate kindly, for he cannot 
 know the true character of the boy or he 
 would not associate with him. I have high 
 hopes of George, and shall feel very sad to be 
 obliged to think he knowingly places himself 
 under such influences. As you will probably 
 see him before I do, on the whole I will trouble 
 you to convey the message, for his welfare is 
 as near your heart as my own." Mr. Wilder 
 promised, and the friends separated. 
 
 Restless, nervous, and considerably excited, 
 Mr. Wilder paced the floor, anxiously await- 
 ing the return of Mr. Butler, whom he had 
 previously sent to the bank to inquire if 
 George had been heard from. He came in 
 at last, reporting that he had heard from him ; 
 that he had made the deposit at the bank at 
 about twelve ; it had been entered on the book 
 and returned to him ; that he had drawn the
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 4! 
 
 thousand dollars in small bills, and left the 
 bank ; but here he lost all trace of him, for 
 on going to the express office to see if that 
 business had been attended to, he found that 
 no person had been there to represent them 
 that day, no order had been left. " What can 
 be the matter ? " inquired Mr. Wilder, more 
 in a soliloquizing way than with any hope of 
 an answer throwing light on the mystery. 
 
 " Gone in the footsteps of the other boy, I 
 guess," Mr. Butler could not refrain from re- 
 plying, in that malevolent way so peculiar to 
 him. 
 
 " Mr. Butler," said Mr. Wilder, quickly and 
 in a sharp tone, very unusual to him, " you 
 will oblige me, if not by suspending judgment, 
 by refraining from expressing such opinions in 
 my presence, without additional proof. I ac- 
 knowledge the whole affair has an obscure and 
 perplexing look about it, but I am not yet pre- 
 pared to hear George implicated in any dishon- 
 orable transaction." And yet, though he could 
 not account for it on any other hypothesis, he 
 could not bear to know any one else had sus-
 
 4 2 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 picions of George. Then turning to his book- 
 keeper, he remarked. " When I left home this 
 morning Mrs. Wilder was quite ill. I must 
 go home to see her, but shall return here 
 very soon. We shall, I hope, know more by 
 and by." This last he said in as careless a tone 
 as he could assume, and hastened home with 
 a heavy heart, hoping that ere his return 
 George would have returned from dinner, 
 and account satisfactorily for his absence. 
 Had it been any one else, he would have com- 
 menced some legal course ; but a certain in- 
 describable something told him that George 
 was still correct. He might have lost his 
 money, but his character, never. 
 
 Mrs. Wilder was better; but her husband 
 sat down to his dinner with a very heavy 
 heart, and, engrossed in his -own thoughts, 
 made no conversation, and listened to but 
 little of that of others. 
 
 "Papa," said little Ella Wilder, "Mary 
 Barrett came near being killed this morn- 
 ing ; she was knocked down, and an omni- 
 bus was just running over her, when a real
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 43 
 
 good boy caught her, but the boy was badly 
 hurt." 
 
 " Ah ! " said her father, hardly hearing her, 
 and apparently paying no attention to what 
 she said, for he had too much on his own mind 
 then to sympathize with any one else. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Wilder, " she did, indeed, 
 have a very narrow escape, and Mr. Barrett 
 is now away endeavoring to ascertain who 
 and what her benefactor is. The lad was 
 taken care of by the police, and it is of them 
 he is now making inquiries. I really hope 
 he .may be successful ; illustrations of such 
 magnanimity are too rare to be passed over 
 in silence, and how grateful we should feel 
 to her preserver if it had been our little Ella ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Mr. Wilder, but in an 
 abstracted way, that indicated that his mind 
 was elsewhere. Mrs. Wilder observed it, but 
 presuming it to be something relating to 
 his business, in which she had no special 
 interest, particularly as she did not detect 
 sorrow in his manner, simply thoughtfulness, 
 no inquiry was made into the cause. Ella
 
 44 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 missed her regular after-dinner romp with 
 her father, for he at once returned to his 
 store in as great haste as he had left it. 
 
 "Any news from George?" inquired he 
 of Mr. Butler, as soon as he entered the 
 counting-room. 
 
 " None, sir," was the reply. 
 " Do you know exactly where he lives ? " 
 " No, sir. I know it is on F Street, but 
 just where, I do not know." 
 
 " I also know it is on F Street, and he once 
 told me, in answer to my inquiry, the number 
 of the house and name of the lady with whom 
 he boards, but both have slipped my mind 
 
 
 
 now. 
 
 He had two important letters to write, 
 and then he was determined to do some- 
 thing, either advertise, or consult some po- 
 lice authority, much as his feelings remon- 
 strated. It was now towards the close of 
 the afternoon, and Mr. Wilder was prepar- 
 ing to go somewhere to do something, for 
 he had no fixed plan of operation, when a 
 boy entered, saying, in a bold, rather imper- 
 tinent way,
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 45 
 
 " Here's your bank book ; George Hutchins 
 sent it to you. He won't be here to-day, and 
 perhaps for many more." 
 
 " Where is he, and what has happened to 
 him ? " inquired Mr. Wilder. 
 
 " Well, he got run over, I believe ; but I 
 don't know much about it, who's to blame, nor 
 nothin' else. He's laid up in bed now. He 
 told me to bring it when I come from dinner, 
 but I forgot all about it till I felt the book in 
 my pocket." 
 
 " Did he say anything about money ? " 
 
 " No, or, yes, I believe he did say some- 
 thing ; he didn't give me any, though. I be- 
 lieve he did say he wanted you, or some of 
 you, to come up." 
 
 " Where does he live ? " 
 
 "Where I do, up to Miss Rice's, No. 27 
 F Street. He's a chum of mine." 
 
 " Then you know him well ? " 
 
 " I'll bet I do ; we room together." 
 
 " May I ask your name ? " 
 
 " My name is Robert Ashley." 
 
 " I regret that you did not inform me of
 
 46 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 this before, as it seems you were requested to ; 
 it would have relieved my mind very much." 
 
 " Well, I should ; but I come down from 
 dinner with a couple of fellows, and we 
 stopped for a smoke ; and when I got down 
 to my store, it was time to go in, and I soon 
 forgot all about it. I didn't think it of much 
 account, or I should have come any how? 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Wilder, " I am obliged to 
 you for bringing me the news. I shall call 
 on George at once." 
 
 Robert left the store as abruptly as he 
 had entered, and Mr. Wilder was again lost 
 in meditation ; but he seemed to come to a 
 favorable conclusion, for he arose, and telling 
 Mr. Butler he should visit George, prepared 
 to carry out his intention, when the book- 
 keeper volunteered the query, 
 
 " Well, sir, what do you think of George 
 now, with this boy for a companion ? Could 
 any good be expected from him ? " 
 
 ' I must confess, Mr. Butler, the whole mat- 
 ter has a very sad appearance ; but we will 
 suspend opinion until I have visited him
 
 AN ACCIDENT AND A MYSTERY. 4/ 
 
 at his boarding-house, when we shall be better 
 prepared to judge without prejudice." 
 
 With mingled emotions of sympathy, dis- 
 trust, and grief, Mr. Wilder decided to 
 visit George at his room, and ascertain, 
 if possible, how much of truth there was in 
 the suspicions of Mr. Butler and the reports 
 of Mr. Thomas ; and it must be confessed 
 that, deaf as he would have been yesterday 
 to any charge made against his prot6g6, the 
 accumulation of circumstantial evidence pre- 
 sented to his senses to-day almost staggered 
 his confidence. The matter of the money 
 was as yet unexplained, and, taken all in 
 all, the case presented to him a very dark 
 aspect. His heart still persisted in telling 
 him that all might yet be explained to his 
 satisfaction ; and yet the more he tried to 
 solve the problem how, the more mystified 
 he became, and by the time he found him- 
 self at the front door of Mrs. Rice's resi- 
 dence, with his hand on the bell knob, he 
 felt almost as sceptical as even Mr. Butler 
 could have desired.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. 
 
 WOULD like to see George 
 Hutchins, if agreeable. You may 
 tell him that Mr. Wilder is here." 
 The servant soon returned, to show the way 
 to the sick chamber. There lay George, pale 
 and weak from loss of blood and the 
 severe shock he had received, and at his 
 bedside Mr. Wilder saw, with surprise, his 
 neighbor, Mr. Barrett, who, before Mr. Wilder 
 had an opportunity to inquire into George's 
 condition, at once broke out into an excited 
 eulogy of our young friend, which, creditable 
 as it was to his heart, and doing justice to 
 the noble boy who had risked his life to 
 save that of a fellow-being, was not partic- 
 
 48
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. 49 
 
 ularly productive of benefit to the weak 
 nerves of the patient sufferer before them. 
 
 " O, Mr. Wilder, you don't know how happy 
 I am ! I have just found him ! He saved 
 Mary's life this morning, and see what he 
 is enduring in consequence ! But he shan't 
 lose any thing by it ; and how strange that 
 he should be in your store ! I didn't know 
 it till this minute. Why, he's a jewel for any 
 man to have." Then, to the boy, " God bless 
 you, my son ! I'll take care of you ; " and the 
 affectionate father wept aloud at the thought 
 of the risk his darling daughter had encoun- 
 tered in the morning, and which would prob- 
 ably have proved fatal but for the heroism 
 of George. 
 
 The moment's pause which the depth of 
 his emotions compelled Mr. Barrett to take, 
 afforded Mr. Wilder an opportunity to devote 
 his attention to his clerk, who looked up 
 with a faint smile, and the remark, " It is 
 very kind in you to come and see me, Mr. 
 Wilder. I hope I shall not be obliged to 
 be absent from the store many days. I think 
 
 4
 
 5O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 I must have been very careless, or if would 
 not have happened. You will find " 
 
 " No, you wasn't in the least careless. I 
 have seen people who witnessed the whole 
 affair," interrupted Mr. Barrett, who, instead 
 of becoming cooler, seemed more ardent in 
 his praises, and so extremely voluble that Mr. 
 Wilder found it almost'impossible to ascertain 
 the extent of the injuries George had sus- 
 tained, much less prosecute the series of in- 
 quiries with which his mind was filled, and 
 with which he had hoped to clear away the 
 mist which hung so heavily around the un- 
 fortunate lad. At last, finding it probable 
 that no opportunity would offer itself for a 
 talk with George, Mr. Wilder was forced to 
 make a sign to Mr. Barrett for a moment's 
 truce, to enable him to hear something George 
 evidently had to say to him, and which he 
 had made several unsuccessful efforts to do. 
 
 " Well, George, you was commencing to say 
 something." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said George, feebly ; " you will 
 find in my trunk the pocket-book and all the 
 money. I got Mrs. Rice to put it in there
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. 51 
 
 for safety ; here is the key," motioning towards 
 his pillow, under which he had caused it to 
 be securely placed. Mr. Wilder took it from 
 its place of concealment, opened the trunk, 
 and found his money. He didn't stop to 
 count it, not he ; a boy who had been so care- 
 ful of his trust would lose an arm rather 
 than defraud him of a cent. But he did not 
 allude to his feeling on this subject ; he would 
 have been ashamed to let George know 
 that he had even suspected him of dis- 
 honesty. He returned to the bedside to in- 
 quire more particularly into the accident, and 
 finally managed to obtain a pretty thorough 
 idea of it, and the praiseworthy conduct of 
 his clerk in it ; the main features from George, 
 the coloring and commendation from Mr. 
 Barrett. 
 
 Now that the matter of the safety of the 
 funds was settled in Mr. Wilder' s mind, he 
 was very anxious for a private interview with 
 George on the other subjects which weighed 
 so heavily on his mind, and which he might 
 have had but for Mr. Barrett's presence, as 
 George was in no pain, but simply suffering
 
 52 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 from nervous excitement, which Mr. Barrett's 
 manner aggravated, if it did not induce. So 
 he concluded to leave him, and seek an in- 
 terview with Mrs. Rice, and in a casual con- 
 versation, perhaps elicit some information from 
 that source. So after tendering any assistance 
 that might be required (a proffer which Mr. 
 Barrett instantly vetoed as an infringement 
 on his rights), he affectionately clasped 
 George's hand, promising to call on the mor- 
 row, and descended to the parlor, where he 
 was soon joined by the landlady. " Mrs. Rice, 
 the lad who was so unfortunate as to -meet 
 with the accident to-day, is employed in my 
 store. I wish him to have everything possible 
 to render him comfortable, and shall expect 
 you to see his wants supplied, looking to me 
 for remuneration." 
 
 " I shall certainly attend personally to our 
 young friend, Mr. Wilder, and assure you he 
 shall want for nothing to make him comfort- 
 able. You cannot imagine how terribly it 
 made us all feel when he was brought home 
 this noon, he is so good, a general favorite
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. 53 
 
 in the house. Why, sir, there is not a soul 
 in the house but loves him as a brother, while 
 he seems almost as dear to me as a son. He 
 is the best boy I ever saw ; and although I 
 don't know much about church folks, if there's 
 a Christian on earth, I believe that boy's one. 
 He is never out of the house nights with 
 other boys, and until lately he was never out 
 except his meeting nights ; but now he goes 
 to school, he has to be out other nights, but 
 he goes just such a time, and comes home at 
 precisely half past ten, as regular as the clock. 
 I have had it in my mind to speak to him, for 
 I think he is working too hard for a boy of 
 his age ; he don't appear very strong." It is 
 difficult to determine when the enthusiastic 
 lady would have concluded her laudatory re- 
 marks, had not Mr. Wilder interrupted her, 
 by asking, " Does he go to a school ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, he does ; I forget where, but he 
 writes beautifully in his book. I'll go up and 
 get his book and let you see it." 
 
 " O, no ; I won't trouble you." 
 
 " O, but I want you to see it ; his writing
 
 54 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 is a pattern of neatness; and although he is 
 no relation, I can't help feeling proud of him. 
 O, how I wish my Joseph and Robert Ash- 
 ley would take the same turn, it would take a 
 load off my mind ; " saying which, she swept 
 out of the room, returning quickly with a 
 Ledger and Journal from a well known Com- 
 mercial College, and Mr. Wilder, on examina- 
 tion, did not wonder at her ardor, for they 
 were really patterns of neatness and good pen- 
 manship. 
 
 " By the way, Mrs. Rice, I heard you men- 
 tion a Robert Ashley ; he boards with you, I 
 believe. Is he not the boy who brought me 
 the intelligence of the accident, and returned 
 my bank book ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, he is ; and I am afraid he is not 
 what he ought to be. He has been in my 
 house for several months, and but for his 
 mother, now dead, but who used to be a dear 
 friend, and a promise I made his father (who 
 is a sea captain, and on his way home from 
 China) to take care of Robert until his return, 
 I have often felt like telling him I couldn't
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. 55 
 
 have him longer in my house. When Mr. 
 Wood came to me to secure board for George, 
 I said I could not take him ; but hearing so 
 good an account of him, I thought I would 
 try, provided he would room with Robert ; 
 and the good recommendation George had, has 
 proved more than true, and I thought then, and 
 have had no reason to change my impression, 
 that Robert might be benefited by the arrange- 
 ment. I know that they are not alike in 
 their tastes or habits, and shall accommodate 
 George by giving him another room, with a 
 more agreeable companion, as soon as I can, 
 for he has spoken to me about it, saying that 
 Robert's language was sometimes tery trou- 
 blesome to him, and he had tried to induce 
 him to leave off swearing, but he feared he 
 was too firmly wedded to it to change. But, 
 Mr. Wilder, many and many's the time I 
 have passed that boy's room nights, and heard 
 his prayers for his room-mate ; and one night, 
 I heard him beg him to go to a meeting at 
 the Young Men's Christian Association, and 
 they went ; George coming home early, while
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Robert did not come in till very late, and 
 was very noisy, and used bad words. It was 
 the very next day that George spoke to me 
 first about changing his room, and he felt 
 bad enough when he did it. I don't know 
 but. I have done wrong in keeping them to- 
 gether so long; I will see that George is 
 better accommodated, this very week." Mrs. 
 Rice was obliged to stop to take breath, 
 giving Mr. Wilder an opportunity to make 
 some inquiries about Robert Ashley. 
 
 " Where is this Robert employed, and why 
 was he selected to go to my store? Could 
 no other have been procured ? " 
 
 " I will tell you, sir. He had just done his 
 dinner and had come up to see George, as all 
 the boarders had before him, and was asking 
 some questions about it, when suddenly the 
 thought struck George that you ought to 
 know about it (I don't think he was exactly 
 himself till that minute), and he wanted to 
 send back your bank book ; and Robert spoke 
 up, says he, " I'll take it down, and tell him 
 all about it, before I go to my store." This
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. $/ 
 
 relieved George's mind very much, and I sup- 
 pose it relieved your mind to hear about your 
 money, too." 
 
 " Yes, I was somewhat relieved when I 
 did hear, but it was not till a very late hour 
 this afternoon ; and I had opportunity to sur- 
 mise and fear a hundred things before the mes- 
 sage was delivered, and then the messenger did 
 not tell me a word about my money being safe." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Wilder, how you talk ! As soon 
 as George came to his senses, and knew it 
 was his duty to let you know, he called to 
 me to bring his coat. He then told me to 
 take out the bank book, that he sent by 
 Robert ; and he told him to tell you that he 
 had your money all safe ; and after Robert 
 had gone, he told me to take the pocket-book 
 from another pocket, and take his trunk key 
 and lock up the money till you should come 
 or send. O, how the poor boy would have 
 suffered if he had known you was in sus- 
 pense so long. Why, what did you think ? " 
 
 Mr. Wilder did not enlighten her on his 
 thoughts upon the subject, and she continued :
 
 5 8 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 "Robert left here before half past one, and 
 said he would go straight to your store. O, 
 he's a dreadful boy." Again proffering aid,' 
 and requesting permission to pay Mrs. Rice 
 for the extra services George might require 
 during his illness, an offer which that lady 
 almost indignantly refused, Mr. Wilder took 
 his leave, promising to call the next day. 
 
 As he was walking home, his mind filled 
 with the agreeable sequel to*- his fears, his 
 eye rested on the illuminated sign of the 
 Commercial College which George had been 
 attending; and, being acquainted with the 
 Principal, he could not resist the temptation to 
 add more to his stock of information about 
 George. And this he desired, not so much 
 for the purpose of satisfying himself, as to be 
 able still better to rebut the - rumors and 
 prejudices and reports of others, for he was 
 himself thoroughly convinced that in no way 
 had George deviated from the strict path of 
 rectitude. He found the gentleman in 
 his office, and after a few general re- 
 marks on business, Mr. Wilder inquired as to*
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED^ 59 
 
 th,e school, number of pupils, &c., remarking, 
 " You have a lad on your catalogue, I be- 
 lieve, who is in my employ." 
 
 " Have I ? " then, in the same breath, " O, 
 yes, George Hutchins ; a good boy, a very 
 good boy, sir. He is a constant comer every 
 night but two in the week, and he comes 
 here to learn ; no excuse to be rid of home 
 restraint in his coming here. Yes, sir, I 
 think you do well if you appreciate him ; he 
 will live to make his mark yet." 
 
 " He is confined to his room now from the 
 effects of an accident, which might have been 
 very serious." Mr. Wilder then detailed the 
 circumstances of the day's casualty. 
 
 " I certainly hope he will soon be able to 
 be about," replied the teacher, "for I have 
 formed a somewhat unusual regard for him 
 for so short an acquaintance." 
 
 Mr. Wilder found his tea waiting, and a 
 fresh group of sympathizers, when he had 
 told them the cause of his tardiness, and 
 Mrs. Wilder and Ella were deeply interested 
 in the condition of the lad, and loud in their 
 praises of his kindness of heart.
 
 6o 
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 "It is just like him, father," said Mrs. 
 Wilder, "I have always liked that boy since 
 the first day I saw him." 
 
 Ella laughed and cried by turns, at the 
 thought of her playmate's rescue and the 
 accident which had befallen George in effect- 
 ing it, till Mr. Wilder could not, if a fortune 
 had been offered him as the premium, have 
 whispered to that interested little audience 
 one syllable of the suspicion which he was 
 now heartily ashamed of having entertained 
 even for an instant. 
 
 They were just seating themselves in the 
 parlor after tea, when Mr. and Mrs. Barrett 
 entered, the former remarking that he could 
 not rest at home without seeing Mr. Wilder 
 about George, and what should be done for 
 him. 
 
 " I owe the preservation of the life * of my 
 child to that boy," he said, and " I am able, 
 thank God, to prove to him how noble a fellow 
 I think him. Come, now, name it ; whatever 
 you tell me to do, I will agree to have done." 
 Mr. Wilder at this point had a nervous twitch-
 
 THE MYSTERY PARTIALLY SOLVED. 6 1 
 
 ing at his heart, for he could not help feeling 
 that he too owed the boy something for allow- 
 ing his trust in him to be in any way shaken, 
 and it was probably for this reason that he 
 thoughtfully replied, " I should suggest a 
 delay of a few days, until George is able 
 to be about ; for, according to present ap- 
 pearances, it will not be long before he will be 
 'well enough to resume his duties at the store ; 
 then we will consult together about the matter, 
 for I feel almost as deeply grateful to God for 
 the safety of your daughter, and to George as 
 the instrument by which it was accomplished, 
 as yourself, and shall consequently claim a 
 portion of the privilege myself." This being 
 settled satisfactorily, they soon after sep- 
 arated for the nierht.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 
 
 HE next morning, Mrs. Wilder hav- 
 ing prepared a basket of grapes 
 and pears, sent a messenger to 
 Mrs. Rice's to inquire about George's con- 
 dition, and Mr. Wilder delayed his departure 
 for his store until the servant returned, who 
 brought the gratifying intelligence that the 
 night had been a comfortable one, and he 
 was able to sit up, with a prospect of being 
 well enough to be out in two or three days. 
 While Mr. Wilder was waiting at his 
 house for the return of the servant who 
 had been sent to inquire after George* 
 the uncle of the latter, having that morning 
 returned from the West, via New York, 
 
 62
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 63 
 
 called at the store to see his nephew. Not 
 finding either him or Mr. Wilder, he in- 
 quired for George of Mr. Butler, who re- 
 plied, in his peculiar manner, " I don't know' 
 anything about him. He went to the 
 bank yesterday, and didn't come back, and 
 I haven't heard anything of him or the 
 thousand dollars he drew. Towards night 
 one of his rowdyish companions came in, 
 and said he'd got run over, or something 
 of the kind, I don't remember exactly what ; 
 but judging from the style of the company 
 he goes in, and the late hours he keeps, I 
 guess his praying don't do him much good. 
 Perhaps Mr. Wilder may know something 
 more about him when he comes, but I don't ; 
 he probably will never show his head here 
 again." 
 
 How much longer he would have con- 
 tinued in this strain, would have depended 
 probably on the patience and attention of 
 his listener. But Mr. Wood could stop to 
 hear no more ; he quickly left the store for 
 George's boarding-house, thinking of only
 
 64 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 one thing all the way, "Can George have 
 been drawn into bad company? Is it pos- 
 sible that his mother's prayers and his own 
 oft-repeated statements of dedication to God 
 forever have all been in vain ? And then 
 the money ? He never dreamed of his be- 
 ing dishonest ! He could not, he would not, 
 he did not believe it ; but he was determined 
 to go and see and hear for himself. He found 
 the sick lad quite comfortable, and request- 
 ing his attendants to leave them, they were 
 soon alone. 
 
 " George, I never had occasion in my life to 
 speak to you in the manner and on the sub- 
 ject which now saddens my heart. On go- 
 ing into your store this morning, on my way 
 from the depot, I inquired for you of the 
 book-keeper, Mr. Wilder not being in, who, in 
 very peculiar language, told me that your as- 
 sociations were very bad ; that you were often 
 seen out late at night ; that you were sent 
 yesterday to draw one thousand dollars from 
 the bank, which has never been received, and 
 what is worse than all, if all the rest could
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 65 
 
 be explained, he says you are bringing a re- 
 proach on the holy cause of religion. George, 
 if this be true, it will break your mother's 
 heart." 
 
 Surprise was the emotion on George's coun- 
 tenance as his uncle slowly commenced his re- 
 marks, but ere he had concluded, that had 
 passed away, and unutterable grief took its 
 place : a look of despair, almost. " O, what 
 do you mean ? Speak quick ! I can bear 
 it, bear all ; only tell me ; tell me what he 
 means." 
 
 " I do not know," said his uncle, " but from 
 his manner, I thought it something so well 
 established as fact, that you could tell me ; 
 besides, I could not stop to hear more from 
 him." 
 
 "O, uncle, I must go this minute to the 
 store, see Mr. Wilder, and learn all from 
 his lips. What does he mean about the 
 money ? I kept it safe for him, sent for 
 him, and gave it into his own hands, all 
 right. I have been misunderstood, perhaps 
 misrepresented. I know I was not a favorite
 
 66 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 of Mr. Butler's, but I tried so hard to please 
 him, hoping he would learn to like me. 
 Mr. Wilder did not say one word last 
 night that I had done wrong. Who has 
 been so cruel to me ? for, uncle, I am 
 not conscious of having done one thing 
 wrong since I entered the employ of Mr. 
 Wilder ; " adding reverently, as he lifted his 
 tearful eyes to Heaven, " God knows I have 
 not. I will go to the store at once ; " 
 saying this, he arose suddenly before Mr. 
 Wood could interpose ; but his strength failed 
 him, and he fell back, almost unconscious, in 
 his chair. 
 
 "No, George, you are not able," said Mr. 
 Wood, as soon as his nephew had revived ; 
 " but I will go and see Mr. Wilder, and from 
 his lips learn all. I believe you innocent, 
 George, and you may rely on me as your 
 protector." 
 
 " Not altogether," said George, looking 
 toward heaven, while a faint approach 
 to a smile lighted his features for a moment, 
 and but for a moment.
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 6/ 
 
 " No, not altogether, George, but with God's 
 help I will see you righted. You shall know 
 from headquarters in what your fault lies, and 
 how much you have been blamed. I will re- 
 turn as soon as I have had an interview." 
 
 As Mr. Wood arose to go, a fresh out- 
 burst of grief on George's part, compelled 
 his uncle to remain longer ; and it was a long 
 time before the young man was sufficiently 
 composed to be safe to leave. Mr. Wood was 
 perfectly satisfied in his own mind, that 
 George was entirely innocent of the charges 
 alleged, and went with all possible speed to 
 Mr. Wilder's store. 
 
 As soon as the servant had returned and 
 reported on George's condition, Mr. Wilder 
 went to his store ; and as he passed into his 
 private office to examine his morning mail, he 
 took the opportunity to say, " Mr. Butler, after 
 a thorough examination into George's course 
 during his connection with us, I am persuaded 
 of his integrity and upright deportment, and 
 look upon all efforts to injure his reputation 
 as emanating from one of two causes : either
 
 68 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 wilful misrepresentation, to satisfy personal 
 purposes, or false information, based on total 
 ignorance of the whole affair. George will 
 be able to be at the store, God willing, and 
 attend to his duties next week, and I shall 
 expect you to treat him with at least more 
 civility than has been your custom. Here 
 is the thousand dollars : amid all the ex- 
 citement of the trying hour in which he 
 was injured in saving the life of another, he 
 held on to his pocket-book, and despatched a 
 messenger to me yesterday as soon as he re- 
 covered his consciousness, requesting me to 
 go or send to his house and get it, too honest 
 to trust the funds in the hands of another. 
 The messenger negligently failed to deliver 
 his message properly, and, on my arrival at 
 his house, I found that, notwithstanding his 
 physical sufferings, he had been cautious 
 enough to have the money placed in his 
 trunk, the trunk locked, and the key put 
 under the pillow that supported his bruised 
 and aching head. Does this look like a 
 double-faced boy ? There is more that I may
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. . 69 
 
 say to you of him at another time, but let 
 me assure you that you are entirely in the 
 wrong when you charge him with any of the 
 errors you alleged." No answer was expected, 
 and no audible one vouchsafed, but an angry 
 mutter, unheard by Mr. Wilder, was returned, 
 which, if reduced to language, would have said, 
 " I'll fix him yet." 
 
 The business of the early morning over, it 
 occupied about half an hour, Mr. Wilder de- 
 spatched a note to Mr. Thomas, George's Sun- 
 day school teacher, requesting his presence at 
 the counting-room of the former, if convenient ; 
 to which a favorable response was returned, 
 and soon that gentleman made his appearance. 
 Mr. Wilder rehearsed to him his experiences 
 of the preceding day and night, adding, " I 
 am now perfectly satisfied that although you 
 have seen George in the company of that 
 Robert Ashley, he was not with him for any 
 harm, and that all their intercourse at home 
 or abroad has been, on George's part, for 
 the sole purpose of benefiting his room- 
 mate. I have heard an excellent report of
 
 7O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 him from Mrs. Rice, with whom he boards, 
 and from the teacher of the evening school 
 which he has been attending for a short time. 
 This, taken in connection with my experience 
 with him here, on week days, and what you 
 and I have both seen on Sundays and at 
 evening meetings, is, I feel, proof positive, that 
 what we looked upon as improper companion- 
 ship for him, was undoubtedly seriously an- 
 noying to him, and only tolerated in the hope 
 that he might be the means, in the hand of God, 
 of doing good. I propose to call on him on my 
 way home to-night, and if you will accompany 
 me, I am sure he will be happy to see us 
 both." 
 
 " With all my heart ; I will call for you at 
 five. You have removed a heavy load from 
 my mind, and I sincerely sympathize with 
 him in his misfortune." 
 
 Mr. Thomas was just leaving the store, 
 when Mr. Wood entered Mr. Wilder's office. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Wood ; a fine morn- 
 ing. Your nephew met with quite a severe ac- 
 cident yesterday ; but how providential that it
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. Jl 
 
 was not more serious ; it might have cost 
 him his life, or maimed him." 
 
 Mr. Wood had time while Mr. Wilder was 
 speaking, to think, "Well, this does not look 
 like crimination. But perhaps he does not 
 know all that the book-keeper has told me ; 
 he surely cannot know the worst, or he would 
 not appear so agreeable to me." Then aloud, 
 " Yes, it is really a cause for rejoicing that 
 his life was spared. But you are probably in 
 possession of more of the particulars than I, 
 for I was away from home when the accident 
 occurred, and only returned this morning, 
 and all the details I have heard were the lit- 
 tle your book-keeper seemed to know, before 
 you came in this morning, and what I could 
 gather from George, whose sick room I have 
 just left, and he is so distressed in his mind 
 that I could learn but little of the cause or 
 circumstances of the case." 
 
 " Distressed in mind ? Why, he's the last 
 person on earth to be distressed in mind, 
 Mr. Wood. I do believe, that had it pleased 
 the Almighty in his wisdom to take George
 
 72 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 away from this world of sin and sorrow, he 
 could have made his appearance before his 
 Creator with a cleaner record than some of 
 us who have lived longer and professed more ; 
 and if his was a mind to be affected by 
 adulation, he would not be much disturbed 
 on that score, for we all think his conduct on 
 that occasion praiseworthy, while Mr. Barrett 
 is determined on making a hero of him. But 
 what do you mean by his being distressed in 
 mind ? " 
 
 Mr. Wood then informed him of his inter- 
 view in the morning with the book-keeper, 
 who gave him to understand that George had 
 been guilty of flagrant acts of impropriety, 
 some of which he particularized, but in such 
 a spirit of exultation as to be extremely pain- 
 ful, and he sought George as soon as pos- 
 sible, to know what it all meant, expecting of 
 course a confession ; but was astonished to find, 
 first, that he had done nothing wrong, and 
 second, that he had no idea that he had been 
 suspected of so doing. He continued : " I have 
 therefore left him in a state of terrible suspense,
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 73 
 
 and after you have told me all you are willing or 
 at liberty to, I shall return to the poor sufferer, 
 to cheer or condole, as the circumstances may 
 warrant. If these charges your book-keeper 
 has insinuated are true, I shall never place 
 confidence in humanity again ; if they are 
 false, a terrible responsibility rests somewhere, 
 for George's spirit is nearly broken by the 
 shock." 
 
 " Mr. Wood, I owe you a full and candid 
 statement of all I know in the matter, both 
 for your sake and that of your nephew. My 
 intention was never to allude to it again to 
 a living creature. My wife knows nothing 
 of it, and, to tell you the truth, I am heartily 
 ashamed to have allowed myself to think ill 
 for a moment of one who has exhibited 
 nothing but fidelity since his first connec- 
 tion with my establishment. This I make 
 as a preliminary apology, if you please to con- 
 sider it such. As I said before, I intended 
 to remain silent on this subject, but as my 
 book-keeper has been so indiscreet as to 
 allude in this equivocal way to the affair,
 
 74 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 I will tell you all I know. A report reached 
 me only yesterdayj that George had some un- 
 principled associates. My clerk referred to him 
 besides, in language intended to convince me 
 of his certain knowledge that your nephew was 
 pursuing a dissolute course, and his very 
 mysterious and continued absence, without a 
 word of apology or explanation, till a late 
 hour yesterday, and even then, the explanation 
 given in a very unsatisfactory manner by the 
 messenger (who proved to be the very boy 
 whose association with George had so damaged 
 his reputation, if not his character), confirmed 
 my suspicions that the information was cor- 
 rect. Again, he was sent to draw a check for 
 one thousand dollars, in small bills, to be used 
 here in various disbursements, and I had no 
 word of him, or the money, till the informer 
 came at a late hour ; then, even on ques- 
 tioning him about the money, the messenger 
 appeared to know nothing, and his equivocal 
 reply led me to suspect the worst. Bowed 
 down with the conviction that my confidence 
 had been abused, I repaired to Mrs. Rice's,
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 75 
 
 and 'had an interview with George in the 
 presence of Mr. Barrett, the life of whose child 
 he had saved, and which was of course un- 
 favorable for much of the conversation I de- 
 sired ; but during which, after many attempts 
 to gain the opportunity, George motioned me 
 to take from under his pillow the key of his 
 trunk, in which I found my money all safe. 
 Instead of being dishonest, he had displayed 
 a caution remarkable for one of his years, 
 particularly when his condition is considered. 
 Thus, one of the heavy loads was taken from 
 my mind. There was something, too, in his 
 manner, his resignation under the affliction, 
 that savored more of heaven than earth. 
 Leaving him, I sought an interview with Mrs. 
 Rice, who gave me such a glowing account 
 of the consistent Christian character he had 
 always sustained, and such a satisfactory ex- 
 planation of the causes leading him into the 
 society of this prodigal youth, the connection 
 of whose name with George gave rise to all 
 the trouble, that after leaving his presence 
 I could entertain towards myself but one
 
 76 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 emotion. I was, sir, ashamed that I could 
 ever have listened for a moment to the stories 
 which I fear were made by some jealous, evil- 
 disposed person or persons, for the express 
 purpose of ruining the boy." Then, in a sup- 
 pressed tone, " My book-keeper has been with 
 me a long time, and I can only account for 
 his zeal in this matter by the interest he 
 takes in my business. I am led to this be- 
 lief, as I know it was through his penetration 
 that the dishonesty of George's predecessor 
 was discovered. But if it be that only, I must 
 say his devotion has in this case overbalanced 
 his judgment. I think I have said enough, 
 Mr. Wood, to convince you that if I ever 
 did really suspect .George of improprieties, that 
 suspicion has been entirely removed, and I 
 consider him purer, in consequence of this 
 fire of tribulation." 
 
 " Mr. Wilder, I thank you ; and I thank 
 God for the lad's acquittal from suspicion, 
 and look upon the whole affair as intended 
 by the Almighty as a lesson for him and for us, 
 and may it do us all good, is my earnest prayer."
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. // 
 
 A hearty " Amen " was Mr. Wilder's reply. 
 
 Mr. Wood lost no time in apprising George 
 of the favorable turn affairs had taken, and 
 this time, George's tears were of joy and 
 gratitude ; joy, that he had never been guilty 
 of the crime, and gratitude to his heavenly 
 Father, who had thrown his protecting arm 
 around him, and answered his prayer, " De- 
 liver me from evil." 
 
 As soon as Mr. Wood had left, Mr. Wilder 
 called his book-keeper, and said, " Mr. Butler, 
 your impressions with regard to George, are 
 entirely unfounded. I regret exceedingly that 
 you should be so cruel as to endeavor to blight 
 the prospects in life of a young man whose 
 promise is so fair for a useful and happy fu- 
 ture, without more evidence to support you. 
 I had intended to say nothing more on the 
 subject ; but as you gave Mr. Wood, the uncle 
 of the lad, a very high colored and partial 
 idea of the affair, and added to it an imagina- 
 tion of your own, it is my desire now to say 
 to you, that I shall expect you to be silent 
 on the subject unless spoken to about it
 
 78 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 by me. It is sufficient for you to know that 
 I am satisfied there is no ground for sus- 
 picion that George is not everything he 
 should be ; and if there were nothing else to 
 disprove it, the material that composes the 
 humanity that risks his own life to save 
 another's, is not the stuff of which cowardly, 
 dissipated, thieving clerks is composed." 
 
 " I assure you, Mr. Wilder," replied Mr. 
 Butler, " I am only too happy to know I was 
 in error, and beg pardon for my apparently 
 unnecessary earnestness. But I did feel that 
 I was doing right in informing you of what I 
 believed to be wrong in George, and it af- 
 fords me as much pleasure to be undeceived 
 as you can possibly experience yourself." As 
 he left, he would have said, if he dared, " When 
 I try again, I will be sure of my plot." 
 
 At a little past five o'clock, Messrs. Wilder 
 and Thomas found themselves in George's 
 room. The sick lad was propped in an easy- 
 chair ; a table stood near by, bearing a bouquet 
 of fragrant flowers which Mrs. Barrett had sent' 
 him, and his Bible was at his side, where he
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 79 
 
 had placed it when the visitors were an- 
 nounced. The approach of Mr. Wilder, would 
 have been the signal for an outburst of grief 
 on George's part, had not Mr. Wilder checked 
 him by the remark, " It is all right, George ; I 
 am to blame, and you have only been the vic- 
 tim of a misrepresentation and misunderstand- 
 ing, which, I am happy to say, only makes me 
 feel more attachment towards you. You had 
 many warm friends before, but there is not one 
 among them who does not place more confi- 
 dence in you than ever before. Now we will 
 not allude to the matter again, at least for 
 the present. Here is your friend Mr. Thomas, 
 anxious to grasp your hand, and express his 
 gratitude for your preservation from death, 
 and to congratulate you on your appearance 
 to-day, for you are quite improved since I 
 saw you yesterday. By the way, you have 
 not had your mother informed of the accident, 
 have you ? " 
 
 " No, sir ; I thought it would alarm her, 
 and as I shall probably be able so soon to go 
 out of doors, I concluded to postpone any
 
 8O * THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 account of it, until I could tell her with 
 truth that I was entirely well." 
 
 " Just right," said both gentlemen ; and Mr. 
 Wilder added, " I was just about to suggest 
 the same thing. Now, George, you are de- 
 cidedly better, are you not ? " 
 
 " O, yes, sir ; I am almost entirely free 
 from pain, and feel as if I was gaining strength 
 every hour." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it ; you will soon 
 be able to go out." 
 
 The three then entered into a general con- 
 versation, carefully excluding any mention of 
 the sad affair of which they could not help 
 thinking. They staid about an hour, during 
 which time Mrs. Rice came in with his toast 
 and tea ; for she would allow no one else 
 to minister to the wants of her pet, now he 
 was sick. At last, they rose to go ; Mr. 
 Wilder remarking, " Now we will leave you, 
 and if you think of anything you would like 
 to have sent you, just mention it, and I will 
 see you supplied." 
 
 " No, sir, I thank you. I have had two
 
 DISTRESS AND RELIEF. 8 1 
 
 splendid presents to-day, from Mrs. Wilder 
 and Mrs. Barrett, and have no wants ungrat- 
 ified." Then turning to Mr. Thomas, who was 
 taking George's hand to bid him good even- 
 ing, " There is one desire, however, which I 
 fear must remain unsatisfied," he said, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Mr. Thomas. 
 
 " I shall not be able to be present with 
 you to-morrow in the Sabbath school ; but I 
 shall not forget you, and when the hour 
 comes you may think of me," holding up his 
 Bible, " as studying this, and trying to pray 
 that your labors may be blessed." 
 
 " Good by," and " God bless you," was 
 heartily said by all, and they took their leave.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 
 
 HARLES BUTLER, the book-keeper 
 and cashier of the house of Wilder 
 and Clark, was a native of New 
 Hampshire, in which State he was educated, 
 and from which, at the age of seventeen years, 
 he came to Boston, for the purpose of pro- 
 curing employment. His parents were in 
 very moderate circumstances, but had given 
 him the advantages of a good common-school 
 education ; and they had also given him, as 
 as well as the rest of the children, faithful re- 
 ligious instruction. His efforts to obtain a 
 situation were not so successful as he had 
 anticipated ; and he was not long in learn- 
 ing, that highly as he estimated his own 
 
 82
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 83 
 
 abilities, and higher as they really were, in 
 comparison with the majority in the little 
 village where he first saw the light, they 
 failed of appreciation in the great metropolis, 
 where he had vainly hoped his command- 
 ing form and personal charms, with his men- 
 tal acquirements, which he valued so much, 
 would speedily merit approval, and command 
 a high price. But in this he was mistaken ; 
 it was not so easy to secure a position, and 
 he was glad at last to accept a situation as 
 entry clerk, at moderate compensation, in order 
 to secure the means of subsistence. 
 
 He fortunately had been very attentive to 
 his duties, arid through the influence of the 
 chief book-keeper of the concern he had been 
 with, he was soon offered and accepted a 
 similar position in the counting-room of his 
 present employer ; and a year or two later, 
 the book-keeper having an opportunity to 
 enter into business on his own account, left, 
 and Mr. Wilder promoted him *to the position 
 he had now held five years. 
 
 His business qualifications were good, and
 
 84 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 it is but fair to state that Mr. Wilder had 
 implicit confidence in his integrity. To- 
 ward him, Mr. Butler had always appeared 
 in his best disguise, and it was nothing else, 
 for at heart he would have had no hesitation 
 to resort to any means to accomplish his sel- 
 fish purposes. But his cunning was so well 
 masked by fawning civility, that even the nat- 
 urally quick perception of his employer had 
 failed to detect anything wrong. He was always 
 at his post, early and late ; he asked for no 
 vacations, and never desired to absent himself 
 from his desk for more than one day at a time. 
 This devotion to business, rendered it ne- 
 cessary to employ no permanent assistance 
 in his department ; and yet, this incessant 
 labor, which he voluntarily performed, was 
 not, after all, prompted by regard for his em- 
 ployer's interest, as the sequel will prove ; 
 and his oft-repeated objections to the intro- 
 duction of a new clerk, and the systematized 
 course of premeditated abuse with which each 
 new comer was always treated, and which 
 either compelled the assistant to resign or pre-
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 85 
 
 judiced Mr. Wilder so strongly that he dis- 
 charged him, will be accounted for ere long. 
 
 George was able to resume his duties at 
 the store, on the Thursday succeeding the 
 Saturday night on which he received the visit 
 of Mr. Wilder and Mr. Thomas, and was wel- 
 comed by no one with more apparent cordi- 
 ality than by Mr. Butler. And the changed 
 appearance of the book-keeper so affected 
 our young friend (who was so frank himself 
 as not to be able to detect artfulness in others), 
 that in a letter to his mother that very day, 
 in which he rehearsed the incidents of the 
 accident, he alluded to the alteration in Mr. 
 Butler's manner, and expressed the hope that 
 he should be able to conduct himself so that 
 it would always be as pleasant, and added, " If 
 I can have matters move just as they do now, 
 I shall be perfectly satisfied, for I know my 
 duty, and with the confidence of all here, I 
 can give satisfaction." 
 
 On the next Monday afternoon, Mr. Wilder 
 told George that he was going to have a few 
 friends at his house that evening, and he
 
 86 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 should be happy to see him about eight 
 o'clock. The church clock was just striking 
 that hour as he pulled the bell-knob of his 
 employer's residence. 
 
 George had never been in society much, 
 and when he had, it had been in his mother's 
 company, and during his residence in the city 
 he had had no opportunities to improve his 
 tastes in that direction, if even he possessed 
 any ; so when he was ushered into the large, 
 brilliantly-lighted parlor, and found there sev- 
 eral ladies and gentlemen, he would have 
 made a rapid exit, could he have done so with 
 any degree of propriety ; but Mrs. Wilder ap- 
 proached, and her kind manner reassured him. 
 
 An introduction followed, and he found him- 
 self in the company of Mr. and "Mrs. Barrett, 
 their daughter Mary, (whom he had once be- 
 fore met, but in rather an unfavorable position 
 for the maintenance of a tete-a-t6te), Mr. and 
 Mrs. Thomas, and a few others whom he had 
 never met before, ^vhile in a corner, unob- 
 served previously, were his uncle and aunt, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Wood. George wondered how tJuy 
 came to be there.
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 8/ 
 
 The conversation at first, as a matter of 
 course, turned upon the accident, and their 
 delight at his entire restoration to health ; and 
 so many complimentary epithets were heaped 
 upon him, that he was tempted to cry, " Hold ! 
 enough ! " and in fact did say that he had 
 done nothing but his duty, and what he would 
 do again did necessity call. 
 
 Later in the evening, Mr. Wilder addressing 
 the whole company, spoke as follows : 
 
 " Ladies and Gentlemen : Less than a 
 fortnight ago, as most of you are aware, the 
 life of Mary Barrett was in jeopardy, and our 
 young friend present, at the imminent risk of 
 his own life, rescued her, and in so doing was 
 injured, fortunately not seriously, and his pres- 
 ence here to-night affords us an opportunity 
 of expressing to him the esteem in which he 
 is held by us all. It is not my purpose to 
 make the occasion a formal one, but I should 
 defeat the object of the interview did I fail to 
 express myself in a somewhat ceremonious 
 manner. 
 
 " George, the circumstances of that incident
 
 88 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 are fresh in the minds of all present, as also 
 the self-sacrificing disposition which prompted 
 your action in the premises. 
 
 " The father of the miss, has requested me 
 to say to you in his behalf, as well as that of 
 her mother, that he thanks you from the bot- 
 tom of his heart ; and wherever you are, and 
 in whatever circumstances, he shall watch 
 over your interests ; and if at any time it is 
 in his power to assist you, you must feel at 
 perfect liberty to apply to him. He also de- 
 sired me to say something else, but as I think 
 he will do himself better justice than would 
 any feeble words of mine, I will resume my 
 seat, and in doing so, call on Mr. Horace 
 Barrett." 
 
 That gentleman, in response to the call, re- 
 plied as follows : 
 
 " When I requested Mr. Wilder to personate 
 me in the brief remarks he has made, I sup- 
 posed he would do it, and not leave me in the 
 lurch ; but as it is, I must do the best I can. 
 I did not decline, as you well know, because I 
 fail to appreciate the immense debt of grati-
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 89 
 
 tude I owe to my young friend, but because 
 my heart is so full, that I feared my feelings 
 would overpower me, and that what was in- 
 tended as an agreeable reunion of friends, (to 
 welcome one, who, heretofore unknown to most 
 of us, has by his action in a time of peril so 
 conducted as to attach him deeply to myself 
 and those whom I represent on this occasion), 
 would become, through my weakness, more a 
 mournful season than the joyful one it should be. 
 " So, without enlarging on the more per- 
 sonal features of the matter, which I hope to 
 have frequent occasion to refer to when 
 George and I see each other alone, I will 
 conclude by requesting you, George, to accept 
 the contents of this sealed envelope, as ex- 
 pressive, in a feeble degree, of the heartfelt 
 gratitude which no act of mine can ever re- ' 
 pay. Receive it, not as a remuneration for 
 services rendered, for the consciousness of 
 having done a worthy deed is its own reward, 
 but as a slight testimonial of my personal 
 regard. You will please allow it to remain 
 sealed until your arrival at home.
 
 QO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " I am requested by Mrs. Barrett to present 
 to you, in her name, the accompanying watch 
 and chain, which you will always preserve, not 
 for its intrinsic value, but in memory of the 
 donor. 
 
 " As it will not be of any service to you 
 unless it is kept correct, and therefore to be 
 relied on, so you are reminded that you must 
 always be correct in your habits, and thus 
 merit and enjoy the confidence of all with 
 whom you are brought in contact. As in 
 order to be truthful and worthy of reliance, the 
 hands must always be at work, never idle, 
 so God never intended our hands to be idle, 
 but to work with both heart and hands well, 
 whenever and wherever he directs. And as by 
 reference to it you will be reminded of the 
 rapid flight of time, you and we all may ever 
 feel that the time for us to labor is short, and 
 the day of life is fast passing away, and the 
 night of death will soon come when no man 
 can work. May we all so live, that, when the 
 summons comes to leave this world, we may 
 have the comforting reflection that it is in 
 some degree better for our having lived.
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 9! 
 
 " I have now but a word to add. When I 
 mentioned at home that I intended to make 
 you some expression of regard, Mrs. Barrett 
 warmly seconded my plan, and Mary very 
 anxiously wishing to participate, at the same 
 time made a suggestion, and I very soon had 
 an opportunity to gratify her desires. Her 
 idea was, and we considered it an excellent 
 one, to secure as a present to your good mother, 
 in some substantial form, a picture of your- 
 self, feeling that however slight, in a pecu- 
 niary point of view, the offering is, it will be 
 cherished by her more sacredly, than any other 
 token could. 
 
 " To accomplish this purpose, I induced 
 your uncle, Mr. Wood, to furnish me with a 
 picture of yourself, which I have had copied 
 in an enlarged form and framed, and now 
 take pleasure in exhibiting to the company ; 
 it shall be forwarded to your kind parent, with 
 an appropriate note. 
 
 " Should I take my seat now, Mary would 
 consider my message half unsaid, my duty 
 but partially performed. From the same
 
 Q2 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 source, I procured a photograph, said to be a 
 striking likeness of one, George, whom you 
 love better than all the world beside, and next 
 to your heavenly Father. I have it copied 
 in a large frame, and am now happy to pre- 
 sent to you a picture of your mother, to be 
 hung in your own room. 
 
 " I know you will never look at it without 
 deriving some fresh incentive to right, and 
 may you never see it when the glance it con- 
 veys may be a silent rebuke for any act com- 
 mitted that she would disapprove. Long may 
 she live to continue to set you the good ex- 
 ample you esteem so highly, and which I be- 
 lieve you are endeavoring to follow, and long 
 may you live to cheer her heart ; and that you 
 may grow up to be a useful member of so- 
 ciety, and the instrument in God's hands of 
 doing much good, is the heartfelt prayer of a 
 family who will never forget you." 
 
 The whole affair of the presentation was 
 an entire surprise to George, and all the cir- 
 cumstances combined rendered his astonish- 
 ment complete. He was unable to respond ;
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 93 
 
 but his uncle came to his rescue, and in a few 
 words thanked the generous donors, and in 
 behalf of George accepted the presents, prom- 
 ising for him that they should never find that 
 their confidence had been misplaced. 
 
 The company soon after adjourned to the 
 dining-room and partook of refreshments, then 
 returned to the parlor, where a short time was 
 spent in general conversation, which placed 
 George at his ease for the first time that 
 night, and which he improved in becoming a 
 little better acquainted with the young lady 
 he had met for the first time in Court Street. 
 
 As it was getting late, the company soon 
 dispersed to their several homes, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wood conveying George to his boarding- 
 house in their carriage. 
 
 George ran up to his room (he had been 
 furnished with a small single room through 
 Mrs. Rice's kindness, for which she demanded 
 but a small advance), and, as was natural, 
 opened very quickly the sealed envelope Mr. 
 Barrett had given him. He found it to con- 
 tain a certificate of deposit at the bank, to
 
 94 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 the credit of George Hutchins, for one thousand 
 dollars ! He could hardly believe his senses. 
 He looked again and again ; read it over and 
 over. It was, indeed, so ; it was not all a 
 dream, as he had thought it at first. 
 
 He then hung his mother's picture in a 
 conspicuous place, wound his watch carefully, 
 and put it away safely, together with his re- 
 cently acquired fortune ; then sat down and 
 wrote his mother a full account of the occur- 
 rences of the evening. After finishing the let- 
 ter, he read his accustomed portion of Scripture, 
 knelt by his bedside, and offered a prayer of 
 thankfulness to God ; and placing himself in 
 his heavenly Father's keeping, took a good- 
 night look at the sweet face of his mother, 
 and was soon fast asleep. 
 
 The next morning, as he descended to the 
 breakfast-table, he found himself a little late ; 
 and as he passed along the table to take his 
 usual place, the chain attached to his vest 
 attracted the attention of Robert Ashley, 
 who, in his characteristic way, remarked, " I 
 guess somebody's feeling pretty grand this
 
 HEROISM AND INTEGRITY REWARDED. 95 
 
 morning ! What time is it ? Trade's pretty 
 good this fall, ain't it?" 
 
 Of course all eyes were directed towards 
 George, who bashfully stammered out, " It is 
 a present I received last night ; " at the same 
 time, drawing it from his pocket, he passed 
 the watch and chain to Mrs. Rice for her in- 
 spection, and that of the rest. " It is a perfect 
 beauty. O, I am so glad ! You well deserve 
 it." Everybody had some kind or congrat- 
 ulatory words to say, but Robert ; he seemed 
 to feel considerably troubled over George's 
 "streak of luck," as he called it, and con- 
 tinued in a strain of language which had 
 the effect of only annoying George, while it 
 aroused the indignation of all the rest, for he 
 was a great favorite ; and so discontented 
 did he become, that he made no allusion 
 to his other presents, although his frankness 
 would have led him ordinarily to tell all : 
 he was no lover of secrecy. 
 
 As soon as he found a favorable oppor- 
 tunity to see Mr. Wilder alone, George asked 
 his advice as to the course to pursue with
 
 96 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 his recently acquired capital. His advice was 
 to draw the amount and make a deposit in the 
 Savings Bank, where it would bear interest ; 
 allowing the whole to remain until he shonld 
 become of age. This suggestion met with 
 George's approbation, and they went that 
 very morning and carried it into practice, 
 George receiving a book, in which the amount 
 was recorded.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. 
 
 RS. HUTCHINS had just fin- 
 ished the letter received from 
 her son, when the expressman 
 called with the package and letter which 
 Mr. Barrett had promised to forward a 
 large-size picture of George ; and it was per- 
 fect. How long she looked at it, how affec- 
 tionately she kissed it, and how tenderly she 
 pressed it to her bosom ! Why did her eyes 
 fill with tears ? She had nothing to weep 
 over in her son's conduct, and she could 
 have no anxiety about his health, for had 
 he not written that he was perfectly well ? 
 Why was all this ? Those of my readers 
 who have received similar souvenirs from 
 7 97
 
 98 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 loved absent ones, can answer in their 
 hearts. 
 
 So long did she gaze, and so much had 
 she to say and think about, that she en- 
 tirely forgot the letter which accompanied 
 the picture, and it would be difficult to say 
 when she would have thought of it, had not a 
 knock at the door compelled her to rise, causing 
 it to fall from her lap to the floor. On her 
 return, she opened it, and read as follows : 
 
 "BOSTON, November 18, 18 ." 
 "My DEAR MADAM: A short time 
 since, my daughter, in attempting to cross 
 a street, was knocked down by the horses 
 attached to an omnibus, and would, in all 
 probability, have been killed, but for the 
 timely interposition of your son, who jumped 
 forward, and extricated her from her dangerous 
 condition, at the imminent peril of his own 
 life ; and he did not escape injury ; but thanks 
 to a kind Providence, his bruises were slight, 
 and we are all happy to know he has entirely 
 recovered.
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. 99 
 
 "It is entirely out of the power of a parent 
 to estimate the value of such acts of kindness, 
 and gold and silver go but little towards liqui- 
 dating such obligations. But -in addition to 
 the warm attachment myself and family will 
 always feel towards your son, I have to-day 
 presented him with a check for a thousand 
 dollars, Mrs. Barrett has given him a watch 
 and chain, and my daughter Mary (the saved 
 one), desiring to do something, has procured 
 the accompanying picture of George, know- 
 ing it will be of more value to you than any 
 offering she could possibly make. Please 
 accept it, and with it, her and our best wishes 
 for your health and prosperity. 
 
 " I shall always feel a deep interest in the 
 lad, which, with your permission, will partake 
 of something akin to a father's solicitude, 
 without presuming to exercise a father's 
 authority. As he advances in life, I may 
 perhaps, see opportunities of rendering him 
 additional service. 
 
 "And now, madam, may God, who has 
 for so many years, been your stay and com-
 
 IOO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 fort, and whom you have taught George to 
 love, honor, and obey, and who I feel con- 
 fident he takes for his counsellor, and tries 
 to live to serve, be your portion through life. 
 
 "With the best wishes for your future, 
 and his, 
 
 "I am, your obedient servant, 
 
 "HORACE BARRETT." 
 
 She would have been more than human, 
 if, amid the falling tears which accompanied 
 and concluded the reading of this letter, she 
 had not experienced an emotion a very little 
 like pride. 
 
 The annual Thanksgiving season was ap- 
 proaching, and Mr. Wilder remembered with 
 how much pleasurable anticipation, when a 
 boy, he always looked forward to the time 
 when he could leave his employment, and 
 spend a few days with his mother, who long 
 ago was called home to her reward. So, 
 early in the week, he told George, that he 
 might go home on Wednesday, spend the 
 holiday with his friends, and return on the 
 following Monday.
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. IOI 
 
 This was very gratifying intelligence to 
 George, and yet very unexpected, for his 
 term of service had been so short with Mr. 
 Wilder, and had been broken up withal by 
 his recent accident, that he felt that he was 
 not entitled to a vacation. It would have 
 been a severe trial to him not to have 
 gone, as he had never been away from his 
 mother on that day, but he had schooled him- 
 self to bear the disappointment. Now he 
 knew that he could go, he thanked his em- 
 ployer, and commenced to count the hours 
 before he should see his mother. 
 
 At last the day arrived, and dressed in 
 his " Sunday clothes," and a new carpet-bag in 
 his hand (bought for the occasion, and con- 
 taining a change of clothing, and the picture 
 of his mother which he was going to carry 
 home to show her), he arrived at the railroad 
 station a full hour before the time for the 
 train to start He thought he never knew 
 so long an hour before : at last he heard the 
 first bell ring, then another, and the cars 
 passed slowly through the depot, and he
 
 IO2 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 was soon hurrying towards home at the rate 
 of twenty miles an hour. 
 
 His feelings were very different now from 
 those he experienced some three months be- 
 fore, when he was leaving home for the first 
 time in his life to go among strangers ; and 
 although he had met many kind friends dur- 
 ing his stay in Boston, his affections, instead 
 of suffering alienation, were more firmly 
 centred in that mother than ever before ; 
 his absence from home, giving him an op- 
 portunity to recall attractions that in a more 
 intimate connection he had failed to appreciate. 
 
 At the proper time and place, he exchanged 
 the cars for the coach, which, as is always the 
 case on the day before the annual festival, 
 was crowded, but they arrived safely at the 
 village square, and before the old stage-house. 
 Hastily grasping his valise, and only stopping 
 to say " How dy'e do " to a few he met of 
 his old friends, he was soon at the gate, met 
 his mother half way, and was clasped in 
 her arms. 
 
 Mental sufferings, physical pain, unkind
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. 1 03 
 
 remarks directed, and insulting looks be- 
 stowed, were all healed and forgotten in that 
 long, loving embrace ; and for that night 
 at least, no roof on earth sheltered a happier 
 or more affectionate pair than "my dear 
 George," and " my dear mother." 
 
 In the evening, when they sat down, George 
 had to rehearse over and over again the cir- 
 cumstances of the accident ; how he felt when 
 he was taken up hurt ; if he suffered much 
 pain during his sickness ; how long he was 
 confined to his bed ; with an exclamation of 
 " poor boy," " dear darling," " mother's child," 
 interlarding every answer. 
 
 Then she would say, " How you have 
 grown ! you are almost a man ! " Then the 
 watch had to be examined ; the pictures 
 brought out and gazed upon, each criticising 
 and admiring that of the other. Then they 
 talked of George's money at interest ; then she 
 wanted to know all about George's relations at 
 the store ; if Mr. Butler treated her boy well ; 
 how the .Wilders and Barretts looked ; how 
 large the little girl was who was knocked
 
 IO4 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 down by the horses ; and her expressions of 
 sympathy with the parents were almost as 
 tender as if it had been her own child. 
 
 All this time, or rather times, for George 
 had to answer these questions over and over 
 again, she would look him in the face, leaning 
 forward, her spectacles pushed back on the 
 top of her head, and her clean white kerchief 
 pinned just as George had always remem- 
 bered it, with a round brooch containing 
 hair of his deceased father, and engraved 
 in German text, " In memoriam." That was 
 a famous welcome home. 
 
 Later in the evening, the familiar old blue 
 ware fruit-dish, heaped up with some of 
 George's favorite Baldwins, was brought out 
 on the table, and at last, when the clock told 
 them it was time to retire, they were sur- 
 prised, for they could have talked till morn- 
 ing. The old family Bible was put on the 
 stand, and together, as of yore, they knelt 
 in prayer. The clause in the Governor's 
 proclamation counselling a feeling of grati- 
 tude at thanksgiving season, was superfluous 
 so fer as this family was concerned.
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. 10$ 
 
 The next day was Thanksgiving Day, and 
 the principal event, the dinner, passed off 
 as usual on such occasions, with the same 
 amount of eating and drinking. George 
 thought the turkey tasted better than any 
 he had ever eaten, and the pudding and 
 mince pics he would have known anywhere 
 were " made by mother." O, if he could only 
 have mother's table to sit down to always. 
 " This is the first good meal I have had since 
 I left home," he said. Taken for all in all, 
 this was the happiest Thanksgiving Day 
 either of them had ever passed. 
 
 So engaged in each other's society were 
 they, that George did not leave his mother's 
 house until Friday morning. After break- 
 fast he started out for a walk, and to see 
 Henry Clement. It was a matter of surprise 
 to him that Henry had not called, as he had 
 probably heard of his returne, but perhaps 
 he was ill. 
 
 He was doomed to disappointment in the 
 reception he met, the sights he saw, and the 
 news he heard. Entering the kitchen door,
 
 IO6 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 as had been his custom, and finding no one, 
 he passed into the dining-room ; and over- 
 heard suppressed conversation interspersed 
 with half stifled sobs. Having advanced too 
 far to retreat honorably, he knocked, and 
 Henry immediately came, out, closing the 
 door after him. His eyes were swollen with 
 weeping. The meeting was as cordial on the 
 part of both as could have been desired, but 
 the difference in their feelings was world wide. 
 They left the house together, when George 
 broke the silence by the inquiry, " What is 
 the matter, Henry?" 
 
 " O, George, we are ruined. Father says 
 he is a bankrupt, and we are ruined, we are 
 ruined ! " 
 
 Then, in a desultory way he finally suc- 
 ceeded in informing George that the banker 
 with whom his father had always done 
 business, had become a defaulter, and ab- 
 sconded, bringing Mr. Clement to a condition 
 of abject poverty ; and that they would be 
 obliged to give up all they had to their cred- 
 itors, leave their house and farm, to go, they 
 knew not where.
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. IO/ 
 
 Sympathy, in its place, is excellent, but 
 sympathy does not repair damages ; and 
 though George's noble heart ached for his 
 friend, it was out of his power to render 
 any assistance, and the sad impression it 
 left on his mind was long in becoming 
 thoroughly effaced. 
 
 The rest of the week, Friday and Satur- 
 day, he spent in visiting his friends, in some 
 instances accompanied by his mother. 
 
 At last, the Sabbath came, the day of all 
 the rest he had been anticipating, and, with 
 his mother, he entered the familiar old house 
 of prayer. How natural all seemed to him ! 
 The audience more homespun in attire, were 
 more devotional in manner than some he had 
 observed in his city church ; while the sermon 
 of the good old pastor, although it would 
 have been called less eloquent than tne 
 efforts of some of the better educated clergy- 
 men in the metropolis, had the effect to fix 
 the attention and soften the heart, and was, 
 what may not perhaps always be said of 
 some sermons, within their comprehension.
 
 IO8 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 But it was in the Sabbath school that he 
 felt the most at home. His teacher and 
 all his old companions were in their places, 
 just as they used to sit when he was a reg- 
 ular attendant, and he occupied his ac- 
 customed seat in the corner. And that 
 teacher, why, it seemed to him that, next 
 to his mother, he loved him better than any 
 one else on earth. He it was to whom 
 George had applied for counsel when he 
 first felt himself a sinner, and it was his 
 remark, that he can never forget, "give 
 yourself unreservedly to Christ." How those 
 words rang in his ears that night ! it was 
 just about a year ago ; they continued to 
 ring until he reached his little chamber, when, 
 throwing himself on his knees, he said, " Take 
 me, Lord, just as I am ; " and peace flowed 
 in on his soul. 
 
 Yes, everything seemed to remind him 
 of the goodness of God ; and yet it was re- 
 served for that evening prayer-meeting to 
 fill his heart with love to his Saviour, as he 
 knelt in that little gathering, and united 
 his voice with theirs, in praise and adoration.
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. IOQ 
 
 There were not many there ; but the 
 presence of God, promised to two or three 
 gathering together in his name, was vouch- 
 safed to that little company. Henry Clem- 
 ent was there, but George had no oppor- 
 tunity to say a word to him, as there were 
 so many others present from a distance who 
 would not probably have another opportunity 
 to see him for a long time, and all wanted 
 to say one word to him, or at least shake his 
 hand. Henry's presence did not surprise 
 George ; for although he had not usually 
 attended the evening meetings, it was not 
 strange that he should have come on this 
 occasion, perhaps from motives of curiosity, 
 for he knew George would be there. 
 
 George and his mother had an unusually 
 interesting and solemn devotional circle that 
 night his last night the last for nearly 
 a year ; for he had no reason to expect 
 another vacation until the summer. 
 
 Early the next morning, as George and 
 his mother were at the breakfast-table, saying 
 their farewell words, Henry came in, calmer,
 
 HO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 apparently, than when they met on Friday, 
 but still he looked sad. He desired to see 
 George alone for a moment, and they together 
 walked into the garden. "George, do you 
 remember the Sunday before you left to go 
 to Boston, that you told me that you wished 
 I was a Christian, and asked me to promise 
 you that I would give my heart to God ? " 
 
 " I do," replied George, distinctly. 
 
 "Well, George, those words have been in 
 my mind ever since, and whatever I would 
 do, whether it was work or pleasure, they 
 would come up before me. If it was pleas- 
 ure, I would try to drive off the feeling, but 
 to no purpose ; then I would promise myself 
 that I would do as you requested, but some- 
 thing else would intervene, and I would set 
 another time ; but our late trouble has now 
 decided me. I am determined to live, from 
 this moment, a different life. I feel myself 
 a sinner, and am now prepared to give my 
 heart to God. Will he accept me ? Will you 
 pray for me ? " 
 
 George's reply was in action, not in words,
 
 FIRST VISIT HOME. 1 1 1 
 
 for he silently drew Henry's arm through his, 
 and they sought that familiar chamber fa- 
 miliar to both boys ; there they had sat, 
 talked, and played together ; and especially 
 familiar to George, for there he had conse- 
 crated himself to God, and had enjoyed 
 many a rich season of communion with 
 Heaven there. 
 
 Kneeling down, George, in a fervent pe- 
 tition, asked God for Christ's sake to accept 
 the penitent one. Henry followed him, 
 broken down with emotion, and plead with 
 Heaven for acceptance, acknowledging his 
 past remissness, and crying, " God be merci- 
 ful to me a sinner ! " when almost in the same 
 breath, he was able to burst out in a prayer 
 of thanksgiving for redeeming grace. It was 
 reserved to George, as his last happiest mo- 
 ment during his whole stay at home, to know 
 that his dear young friend was now his com- 
 panion heavenward. 
 
 Descending to Mrs. Hutchins's presence, 
 George was obliged to leave his now rejoi- 
 cing associate in his mother's care, and hastily 
 prepared for his return.
 
 112 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 The hour for his departure at last came, 
 and after their words, of farewell had been - 
 repeated several times, George took his seat 
 in the stage, waved a kiss to his mother, 
 promised to write her and Henry soon, and 
 was driven rapidly away. 
 
 He presented himself at the store the next 
 day, refreshed in body and mind for the 
 few days of relaxation he had enjoyed, and 
 for the blessed incident with which his trip 
 concluded, and entered with renewed zeal 
 into his daily routine of duty. 
 
 Mr. Butler, the. only one whom he seemed 
 to fear, still preserved the show of good feeling 
 he had so suddenly assumed a few days after 
 the accident, while Mr. Wilder asked him 
 about his mother's health, and how he had 
 enjoyed himself, hoped he would not be home- 
 sick, &c., to all of which George gave appro- 
 priate replies, and then told Mr. Wilder of the 
 conversion of his friend as being the pleas- 
 antest episode of the whole trip.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. 
 
 EORGE'S history during his stay in 
 Boston had been an eventful one ; 
 but for several weeks after his re- 
 turn, nothing occurred to disturb his equa- 
 nimity, until one morning, on rising to dress, 
 he looked for his watch and chain, and lo ! 
 they were gone. He remembered distinctly 
 putting them in their accustomed place (in a 
 case presented by his mother, and which he 
 kept hanging by the side of his looking-glass), 
 when he was preparing to retire ; and where 
 could they have gone ? when could they 
 have gone ? and by whose hands ? 
 
 Throwing on his clothes, he ran down stairs 
 to tell Mrs. Rice, and ask if anything else had 
 8 113
 
 H4 THE BOSTON BOY - 
 
 been taken from the house. They made a 
 search, and to their astonishment found the 
 box containing silver had been broken open, 
 and all the pieces from one of the apartments, 
 the most valuable, were gone. 
 
 Now what was to be done ? They ex- 
 amined the front door, the back door, the 
 windows, but no clue to the ingress or egress 
 of the burglar could be found. They looked 
 at each other. Many were the suggestions, 
 and many the inquiries, but all resulted in 
 nothing ; they simply knew that they had 
 been robbed. The breakfast that morning was 
 partaken of by few of that party, with relish. 
 
 George was almost crazy. " If it had been 
 anything but my present," he thought. He, 
 however, after a more diligent search in places 
 where he would never have dreamed of put- 
 ting it, concluded to go to the store, tell Mr. 
 Wilder, and act on his advice. How impa- 
 tient he was, till that gentleman came. He 
 did not tell Mr. Butler ; he was going to, but 
 he could not face that cold sarcasm with 
 which he felt sure the news would be received.
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. I 1 5 
 
 By and by, Mr. Wilder came in, and George 
 told him. His reply was, " Your first duty is 
 to notify the police force," and offered to ac- 
 company him to the office of the Chief of 
 Police, and a detective was detailed to " work 
 "up the case." 
 
 The officer first examined the premises where 
 the robbery was committed, thoroughly ; then, 
 without expressing an opinion to any one, 
 turned to Mrs. Rice and George, and asked 
 them if they suspected any one. They both 
 replied that they most certainly did not. He 
 took from Mrs. Rice a full description of the 
 missing silver ware, and then turning to 
 George, asked him where he got the watch. 
 George replied that it was a present from Mr. 
 Horace Barrett, giving the officer that gen- 
 tleman's residence. 
 
 " Did you take a memorandum, or do you 
 know the number of the watch, or any descrip- 
 tion of the property ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Was it new or second-hand ? " 
 
 " A new one, sir."
 
 Il6 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " Show me where Mr. Barrett lives ; " and 
 George pointed the way, accompanying the 
 officer. 
 
 Of course Mr. Barrett felt badly, but it was 
 through sympathy for George, as he had been 
 guilty of no carelessness ; and if he had, he 
 was suffering so intensely that no one could 
 have a heart to criminate him. 
 
 The detective inquired of Mr. Barrett if he 
 had a memorandum of the number of the 
 watch, or any peculiarities about it ; he 
 had neglected this precaution, but went with 
 his two visitors at once to the place where 
 the articles were purchased, and from the 
 jeweller received all the information desired, 
 which the officer noted down on his mem- 
 orandum-book and departed, promising to use 
 every exertion in his power to secure the 
 restoration of the property, but without en- 
 lightening them in any way as to his proposed 
 plan. The whole matter being left in safe 
 hands, the trio separated, each to his respec- 
 tive pursuits. 
 
 George tried to fix his mind on his duties,
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN \RREST. I I/ 
 
 but it was impossible ; and his frequent errors 
 and absent-mindedness drew upon him as fre- 
 quently the severe reprimands of Mr. Butler, 
 who seemed to be delighted to have an ex- 
 cuse for exercising his authority, which he did 
 effectually, winding up the morning by threat- 
 ening to apprise Mr. Wilder of his carelessness 
 and neglect. 
 
 The dinner hour, which was usually an oc- 
 casion of recreation, failed to accomplish its 
 accustomed purpose this day, and George re- 
 turned to the store more unfitted for labor 
 than he was before. Mr. Butler, however, it 
 would seem, had recuperated his faculties, and 
 he came back more irascible than before, and 
 berated George so earnestly and loudly, that 
 it attracted the attention of Mr. Wilder, and 
 caused him to leave his office to inquire into 
 the cause. 
 
 " Mr. Butler," said he, " I have noticed to- 
 day that you have spoken repeatedly in a 
 harsh manner to George, as if he was neg- 
 lecting his business or committing a good 
 many errors. What is the difficulty ? "
 
 Il8 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Mr. Butler, hesitatingly, 
 " George is quite unlike himself to-day. He 
 has made many errors and blots on his work, 
 which ordinarily he is quite free from." 
 
 George could hear no more ; he had forti- 
 fied himself to the utmost, but his nerves 
 could bear nothing further. He burst into 
 tears, and attempted to leave the counting- 
 room. 
 
 " You may go to my room, George," said 
 Mr. Wilder. Then to Mr. Butler, " I suppose 
 you heard of George's misfortune this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I heard something of it, but 
 nothing direct." 
 
 " And yet, with all this sorrow on his mind, 
 you refuse to lighten his labor by at least 
 kind words ! I am surprised ; this has been 
 a serious loss to him ; it would be to any one ; 
 but his loss is aggravated, not by the pecuniary 
 value of the missing articles, but from the fact 
 that they were presented to him, and the 
 donation was richly deserved. For my part, 
 I feel deeply grieved for him, and am de-
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. I 1 9 
 
 termined to take every measure in my power 
 to secure the recovery of the property and 
 apprehension of the thief, let it cost what it 
 may. I regret to be obliged to speak to you 
 in this manner, particularly to be forced to 
 allude to it in his presence, but I could bear 
 it no longer. I shall expect a different course 
 in the future." 
 
 Mr. Butler addressed Mr. Wilder as he was 
 leaving, and said, " I acknowledge, sir, that I 
 was hasty, but I was anxious to have this 
 particular work done neatly, and was perhaps 
 too exacting under the circumstances. I will 
 endeavor to be more thoughtful in future, but 
 it makes me excessively nervous to have work 
 done carelessly." As Mr. Wilder left, a ma- 
 licious smile lighted up Mr. Butler's features, 
 and remained long enough to exhibit sufficient 
 venom to have ruined the boy, if possible ; 
 and we have no doubt he will try. 
 
 The next day, George was in a calmer 
 frame of mind, and Mr. Butler, from motives 
 of policy, more lenient. Mr. Barrett called in, 
 and had an interview with Mr. Wilder on the
 
 I2O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 subject of the robbery, and they both ex- 
 pressed their determination to ferret out the 
 affair. George wanted to go to the police 
 office at once, and inquire what had been 
 done, but was dissuaded, as they told him 
 that the officer understood his business 
 thoroughly, and would notify them as soon 
 as he had anything to communicate. And they 
 had not long to wait ; for on the fourth day, 
 a note came to the store, requesting George 
 to call at the office at once, which he did, ac- 
 companied again by Mr. Wilder. On seeing 
 his visitors, the detective put on his coat and 
 hat, and they all proceeded to the shop of a 
 pawnbroker, and entering, the officer asked to 
 see the watch he had been talking about that 
 morning. This was produced, and George 
 involuntarily screamed out, 
 
 " O, it's mine ! it is mine ; " and wanted to 
 take it at once. 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry, my friend," said the 
 officer ; " you've got all you want, perhaps, but 
 I haven't." Then handing the watch and 
 chain back to the Jew, he beckoned them out.
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. 121 
 
 " But I want my watch" said George, on 
 reaching the street. 
 
 " You shall have it in good time ; but I want 
 the thief r 
 
 " And do you think you shall be able to 
 secure him ? " asked Mr. Wilder. 
 
 " Without doubt. It appears that he has 
 pawned it in this shop, and received an ad- 
 vance on it and the chain, saying' that he 
 wanted the money for only a day or two, and 
 promising to call in to-morrow and redeem it. 
 He is to call at eleven ; I shall arrest him, 
 and you will then have the gratification of 
 seeing him behind the grates." 
 
 " O, that would be no gratification to me," 
 said George. " If I can only get my property, 
 and Mrs. Rice get hers, I am sure I shall not 
 want to have him punished, and I don't be- 
 lieve she will." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the detective, " if we were all 
 as tender-hearted as you are, youngster, what 
 would become of justice ? " 
 
 Mr. Wilder smiled, as he said, " If the thieves 
 were not punished, George, it would be offer- 
 ing a premium for crime."
 
 122 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 In the afternoon of the next day, the officer 
 came in, and told them that if they wanted to, 
 they could go to the station-house and see 
 the thief, as he had just locked him up. 
 
 " Who is he ? what's his name ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said the detective ; " it is 
 on our books at the station as he gave it, but 
 I take but little notice of the names we 
 get from such chaps. They don't hold to 
 their mothers' names long after they com- 
 mence to nab things." 
 
 They entered the station, and were con- 
 ducted through a hall down into the base- 
 ment, which was dimly lighted ; they passed 
 by a row of cells all unoccupied, until the 
 officer halted in front of one, and as soon as 
 they could see distinctly (for coming from the 
 sunlight into the dark room it was some 
 little time before objects could readily be dis- 
 tinguished), George gasped out, " O ! Robert 
 Ashley ! " and then could say no more. 
 
 He had never entertained a high opinion 
 of Robert's morality, but the thought had 
 never entered his mind that he was a thief.
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. 123 
 
 "Well, young man, you're caged at last," 
 said the detective to Robert. " You got off 
 so easy before, you thought you'd try it once 
 more, did you ? " Then turning to Mr. Wil- 
 der, the officer said, " He and two others were 
 arrested a little less than a year ago, for com- 
 plicity in breaking and entering a store, but 
 it could not be proved against him, and he 
 was discharged, and the other two are in the 
 House of Correction, serving out their sen- 
 tences. Well, he will be brought before the 
 court to-morrow, and you two will be wanted 
 to appear against him." 
 
 " What are you trembling so for, and look- 
 ing so sad," inquired the officer of George. 
 " You're not sorry you've found your property, 
 are you ? or is this place disagreeable to you ? 
 I presume you rarely visit station-houses." 
 
 " I am sorry to find in this young man one 
 of my fellow-boarders," replied George, " and 
 he was for some time my room-mate. I hope, 
 sir, you will not do anything to him ; I am 
 sure I forgive him. He won't do so again, 
 will you, Robert ? "
 
 124 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Robert had all this time preserved an ap- 
 pearance of stoicism, and simply stared at his 
 visitors with an impertinent gaze ; but when 
 George spoke so -kindly, it broke his spirit. 
 He could bear ill usage, but sympathy and 
 forgiveness never. He turned his eyes full 
 on George's face, and replied, " George, can 
 you, will you forgive me ? I needed the money, 
 and I didn't know what else to do. I was 
 going to get your watch back to you. I am, 
 indeed, very sorry. Will you forgive me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Robert, I do freely ; and will do what 
 I can for you." 
 
 The officer then told them, aside, that 
 Robert would have to be brought before the 
 court ; then, if they chose to bring any influ- 
 ence, it could be exerted in his behalf. He 
 continued : " He has promised to tell me all 
 about the balance of the property ; and if he 
 does, and it is recovered, it will be all in his 
 favor." 
 
 Mr. Wilder had not noticed the boy suffi- 
 ciently to identify him as the one who brought 
 the message to his store at the time George
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. 12$ 
 
 was hurt, but when he did recognize him, he 
 was not so surprised as George had been, for 
 his countenance had struck him then, as in- 
 dicating capabilities to do almost anything 
 bad, and he was very happy to know that 
 George had changed his room, and been so 
 much rid of his company. 
 
 They left the station-house, promising to 
 be at the court at ten o'clock the next day, 
 and the officer remained to get from Robert 
 what additional information he could on the 
 subject of the silver ware. 
 
 " Can't we save him from punishment, Mr. 
 Wilder ? " 
 
 " I presume we could influence the case 
 somewhat, if it were proper to do so ; but 
 is it ? " 
 
 " O, yes, sir ; he is not a bad boy at heart ; 
 and his father, a master of a vessel, is at sea 
 now, and he has not had a good mother's 
 counsel as I have ; he lost his mother, when 
 he was quite young." 
 
 " Well,- George, I like your forgiving spirit ; 
 but if criminals were all pardoned, we should
 
 126 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 none of us be safe ; and property and life 
 would be valueless. Still I am disposed in 
 all cases to temper justice with mercy, pro- 
 vided there is hope for reformation ; but I 
 rather think, when you have had as long an 
 experience as I have, you will have outgr<3wn 
 a part of your what shall I call it ? Chick- 
 en-heartedness ? " said he, smiling. " Well, I 
 won't annoy you any more. Seriously speak- 
 ing, I don't wonder that you are interested for 
 the boy ; it is natural to have a regard for 
 those with whom we have labored for good 
 and tried to improve, and I believe you have 
 tried to benefit Robert, have you not ? " 
 
 " I tried to do my duty, sir ; but he opposed 
 my efforts so strongly that I was obliged to 
 relinquish them." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Wilder, as they were now 
 entering the store, " we will go to the court 
 to-morrow, and see what can be done." 
 
 The little family at Mrs. Rice's, were aston- 
 ished at the intelligence brought, when George 
 went home to tea, for the absence from din- 
 ner of Robert had created no remark, as fre-
 
 A ROBBERY AND AN ARREST. I2/ 
 
 quently his business detained him, and in 
 . such cases, he took his dinner at a restaurant. 
 The affair formed the general topic of conver- 
 sation, for it is true that not one of the whole 
 household had the least suspicion of Robert. 
 Mrs. Rice was delighted in the hope of re- 
 covering her silver ware, and as for George, 
 if he could have known that Robert would 
 escape punishment, he would have been per- 
 fectly satisfied ; kind-hearted boy that he was. 
 As it was, after his return from the Com- 
 mercial College, and he took his light to go 
 to bed, it was not to sleep ; and it was past 
 midnight before he secured the rest his ner- 
 vous system so much needed. He slept at 
 last, but it was to dream of jails and station- 
 houses. Once he saw Robert on trial, and 
 heard him make a heart-breaking appeal for 
 mercy ; this started him, and he awoke in a 
 profuse perspiration. After such a night, it 
 is no wonder that he arose little refreshed ; 
 and his condition was not improved as he 
 reflected on the trying scenes he would be 
 obliged to pass through that day.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE TRIAL. 
 
 T ten o'clock, (the hour for opening 
 the court), there were present a 
 large number of persons ; some as 
 witnesses to testify for or against some poor 
 criminal ; others had come prepared to pay 
 the fines and costs the judge might impose 
 on their unfortunate friends ; others to volun- 
 teer as bondsmen, and by their aid purchase 
 a little more freedom for their unlucky com- 
 panions until they should have a trial at some 
 future time ; while there were many more, 
 who came simply as spectators, having no- 
 where else to go. 
 
 The court-room was crowded ; and it was 
 with difficulty that the party interested in the 
 
 128
 
 THE TRIAL. 1 29 
 
 larceny from Mrs. Rice's boarding-house, could 
 procure seats. Presently the judge entered, 
 solemn and dignified. George looked at him 
 earnestly. His appearance did not betoken 
 much of mercy, however much of justice there 
 might be in his heart. The crier, in a mo- 
 notonous tone, announced the court open for 
 business, and the clerk took a huge pile of 
 complaints from a tin case before him, and in 
 a rapid, almost inarticulate tone, called out 
 the names of parties arrested for minor of- 
 fences. One after another was called for 
 drunkenness, as follows : To the prisoner : 
 " You are complained of for getting drunk ; 
 are you guilty or not guilty ? " " Guilty." 
 " The court orders you to pay a fine of three 
 dollars and costs, and stand committed to the 
 House of Industry till paid." There were 
 several of such cases, and at last there were 
 brought in men, women, and children, charged 
 with various other offences, such as assault 
 and battery, vagrancy, violations of sundry 
 city ordinances, &c. These were examined, 
 9
 
 I3O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 and acquitted or convicted, as the facts de- 
 veloped innocence or guilt. 
 
 All this occupied considerable time, and 
 was very tedious to George, to whom the 
 scenes were anything but agreeable, and Rob- 
 ert's position quite as much -a cause of anxiety 
 to the former, as to the latter ; and sometimes 
 he would feel as if he hoped Robert had 
 escaped (provided he could get his watch and 
 chain, and Mrs. Rice her property) ; then the 
 thought of what Mr. Wilder had said about 
 justice came into his mind, and he knew it 
 must be wrong to feel so, yet he could not ex- 
 actly see how : but at last the time came. 
 
 " Robert Ashley, you are charged with the 
 larceny of a watch and chain valued at two 
 hundred dollars, property of one George 
 Hutchins, and sundry pieces of silver ware, 
 value unknown, the property of one Mary 
 Rice, from the house of the latter. Are you 
 guilty or not guilty ? " 
 
 " Guilty," replied Robert, without lifting his 
 eyes ; and he looked the picture of despair, his 
 face unwashed, his hair uncombed, his linen
 
 THE TRIAL. 131 
 
 soiled, and altogether presented such an ap- 
 pearance of misery that George was well nigh 
 unmanned before a word was spoken. 
 
 " What are the circumstances of this case," 
 asked the judge. " Let the witnesses be 
 called, if there are any ; if not, let me see 
 the officer." 
 
 " Witnesses in this case come forward and 
 be sworn, called the clerk : Hutchins, Rice, 
 and others ; also the officer." The officer, as 
 he advanced, had George's watch and chain in 
 one hand, and, to Mrs. Rice's delight, the 
 package of silver in the other. These he laid 
 down in full view of the court and the wit- 
 nesses, and took his position with the others 
 to take the oath. 
 
 They all stood, raised their right hands, and 
 swore that by the help of God they would tell 
 " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but 
 the truth." 
 
 " George Hutchins, take the stand, and tell 
 what you know about this case," said the 
 judge. 
 
 It was George's first appearance in a court-
 
 !32 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 room, and his manner was at first nervous ; 
 but as he progressed in his simple recital, he 
 recovered his composure, his frank open man- 
 ner returned, and no one would have doubted 
 his story, even if no obligation to truthfulness 
 had been imposed. He identified the, watch 
 and chain as his ; and, in concluding his nar- 
 rative, volunteered, in his peculiarly winning, 
 almost child-like way, a word of intercession 
 for the unhappy lad, but was checked by the 
 judge, who informed him that the time had 
 not then arrived for defence or palliation, his 
 first object being to ascertain facts and par- 
 ticulars ; afterwards he could be heard in miti- 
 gation, if he desired. 
 
 Mrs. Rice testified that Robert Ashley had 
 been brought, about eleven months before, by 
 his father, now absent at sea, to her house for 
 board ; that his father's story of the loneliness 
 of his son's condition, he being motherless, 
 and his desire that he might be surrounded as 
 much as possible by home influences, touched 
 her heart ; and although Robert had been rep- 
 resented as a very mischievous boy, she finally
 
 THE TRIAL. 133 
 
 consented to accommodate him until his 
 father's return ; that although Robert had 
 fully corroborated his father's statement of his 
 mischievousness, she had never suspected him 
 of crime, and was very much astonished when 
 forced to believe it of him. She informed the 
 judge that she had placed the silver ware the 
 night previous to the discovery of the robbery, 
 in its usual depository in a tin box, always 
 
 
 
 making two packages, one of solid silver, such 
 as was taken, and the other plated ware. On 
 the morning George missed his watch, he 
 came down very early to inform the people of 
 his loss, and inquired if anything had been 
 missed by others ; this led her to make an ex- 
 amination of her valuables, when she found 
 the box had been opened, and one of the 
 bundles abstracted, the more valuable one. 
 She was asked if she recognized the property 
 before her, as her own ; and examining it care- 
 fully, counting the pieces, she replied that it 
 was all hers, and that nothing was missing. 
 Having stated all that she knew, she was 
 allowed to leave the stand.
 
 134 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Mr. Barrett was next called, and swore to 
 the watch and chain as being the same he had 
 presented some time before to George Hutch- 
 ins, and Mr. Wilder, having been with him 
 at the time of the purchase, confirmed his 
 statement. 
 
 The detective was then examined, and testi- 
 fied as follows : 
 
 " I am a detective ; on the morning after 
 the theft had been committed, I was direct- 
 ed to collect what information I could of the 
 parties robbed, and endeavor to ferret out the 
 whole matter. I went with Mr. Barrett and 
 Mr. Hutchins to the store where the watch 
 and chain were bought, and gathered all the 
 particulars with regard to the property I de- 
 sired ; then conceiving it might have been 
 pawned, I visited several shops, and at last, 
 two or three days after, found one where the 
 proprietor acknowledged having made an ad- 
 vance on one answering my description ; he 
 produced it, and this is the one here. I then 
 ascertained from the broker that the person 
 who brought it was a young man, who said he
 
 THE TRIAL. 135 
 
 wanted to raise a little money for a day or 
 two, and was to call yesterday at eleven o'clock 
 and redeem it. I secreted myself in the shop, 
 and about the hour named, the boy Ashley 
 came in, evidently prepared to pay his advance 
 and interest, and recover the possession of the 
 articles ; at this point I came forward, con- 
 fronted him, and having sufficient evidence to 
 warrant it, I arrested him and locked him up. 
 In a conversation with him later, I told him he 
 had better tell me where the silver was, as it 
 would be to his interest ; and at last, after a 
 good deal of hesitation, he acknowledged that 
 he took it, and had left it with another broker 
 at the south part of the city. I went there, 
 and succeeded in obtaining this package be- 
 fore me." 
 
 The judge then inquired of the officer, if to 
 his knowledge, the prisoner had ever been con- 
 victed of any crime before ; and was answered 
 that he had been arrested once, but there 
 being insufficient evidence, he had been dis- 
 charged. 
 
 Then turning to the prisoner, the judge in- 
 quired if he had any witnesses.
 
 136 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Robert replied that he had sent to his em- 
 ployer to inform him that he was in trouble, 
 and to request him to be present, but he did 
 not see him. 
 
 " What do you expect to prove by him ? " 
 asked the judge. 
 
 " I only wanted him to testify to my good 
 character during the time I have been in his 
 employ," said Robert. 
 
 " Have you any other witnesses ? " 
 
 Robert was just about to say " No," when 
 the crowd jostled right and left, and a weather- 
 beaten man hurried forward ; and as soon as 
 he came near enough, said, in a loud tone, 
 " Yes, he has ; / am Ids father ! " 
 
 The effect of this sudden and unlooked-for 
 appearance, was electrifying. The sailor was 
 sworn, and allowed to speak for his boy, who, 
 trembling, shamefaced, and almost crushed by 
 his disgraceful position, stood looking first at 
 one, and then at the other. His father pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " I am the captain of the ship Lion, and ar- 
 rived here from Hong Kong last night ; this
 
 THE TRIAL. 137 
 
 morning I went to the store where I left my 
 son employed, but found he had not been there 
 since yesterday morning. No one seemed to 
 know anything about him ; the proprietor, in 
 whose special care I had placed him, was 
 absent, having been called out of town on 
 business. I at once went to Mrs. Rice's 
 boarding-house to gain some information of 
 him if possible, and was told of his arrest, 
 to my surprise and sorrow, and that his trial 
 would come off to-day. I hastened to be here 
 in season, and have just arrived." 
 
 "Then, of course, you know nothing of the 
 circumstances of the robbery," inquired the 
 judge. 
 
 " Nothing whatever." 
 
 " Do I understand that you wish to speak in 
 behalf of your son ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed, sir," said the father. " Rob- 
 ert's mother died when he was four years of 
 age, and his care during early childhood de- 
 volved on his aunt, his mother's sister ; she is 
 now dead. As I said before, I am a master 
 mariner, and am away from home a great
 
 138 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 deal ; so Robert has been deprived of paren- 
 tal discipline almost ever since his mother's 
 death. He has naturally a good disposition ; I 
 never heard of his taking anything before ; he 
 must have become acquainted with some very 
 bad boys ; but God knows that I never expected 
 to be obliged to stand up in a court of justice 
 to speak in his behalf, and he a prisoner at 
 the bar." [Here the parent could control his 
 feelings no longer ; tears coursed their way 
 down his bronzed cheeks, and the strong man, 
 unused to weeping, was childlike in his grief.] 
 Recovering himself in a degree, he continued : 
 " I procured for him a situation in a wholesale 
 dry goods house before I left, in March last, 
 and he promised to be faithful and good ; but 
 now, sir, what shall I do ? I don't believe that 
 Robert is a hardened boy ; I will try and save 
 him ; the property will be restored -, no one 
 will be a loser by him ; but it will break my 
 heart if he is sent to prison. 
 
 " I will suffer myself to be put under any 
 bonds you may assign that I will take the boy 
 on my next voyage, and until my vessel is
 
 THE TRIAL. 139 
 
 ready for sea the Court can have control over 
 him. I hope your Honor will be generous 
 enough to grant my request ; it is a sad posi- 
 tion for me, and an awful one for Jam. I have 
 already received a shock which it will take a 
 long time to recover from ; but if he is sent to 
 prison, it will crush me, and I fear ruin him. 
 Do give me an opportunity to try and reform 
 him, by taking him to sea." The father sat 
 down, convulsed with emotion. 
 
 " You had a word to say to me early in the 
 case, Mr. Hutchins," said the judge; "you 
 may now be heard." 
 
 George rose, and as composedly as he could, 
 told the Court that he had been in the city 
 since September last, all the time a boarder at 
 Mrs. Rice's, and a part of the time a room- 
 mate with Robert Ashley ; and although he 
 could not truthfully say that Robert was cor- 
 rect in all his habits, still he had never observ- 
 ed anything to indicate that he was addicted to 
 stealing ; and he thought the boy must have 
 been sorely tempted, or he would not have 
 fallen this time ; that so far as he was per-
 
 I4O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 sonally concerned, he pitied Robert, and 
 hoped the judge would exercise mercy in the 
 case. 
 
 Mr. Wilder having an opportunity to say a 
 word, hoped that if the court could con- 
 sistently grant the prayer of the father of the 
 youth, it would he done, as he had no hesitation 
 in expressing his belief that it would be for 
 the future good of the boy, as the disgrace 
 attending a confinement in a prison would 
 hang around him forever after his release, 
 which might occur during his father's absence, 
 and he, left without business, friends, or rep- 
 utation, would be thrown, almost of necessity, 
 into the society of those worse than himself, 
 and through their influence, be ruined. 
 
 With this view, Mr. Wilder expressed the 
 desire that if the judge could see any exten- 
 uating circumstances, he would exercise his 
 prerogative, and save the boy. 
 
 Mr. Wilder further added that he was au- 
 thorized by Mrs. Rice to express her disposi- 
 tion not only to be satisfied with such a 
 course, but it was at her request, in part, that
 
 THE TRIAL. 14! 
 
 he now strongly urged it. After citing a case 
 which came under his own personal observa- 
 tion of a young man brought up for a first 
 offence, (in which such clemency was exercised 
 as was urged in the present case), and who 
 was afterwards placed under favorable auspices, 
 and is now a highly esteemed member of so- 
 ciety, he submitted his argument, and took his 
 seat. The judge then reviewed the case : 
 
 " There can be no doubt that a larceny has 
 been committed at the place, and of the arti- 
 cles mentioned in the indictment, nor that 
 the defendant is the guilty party. The ques- 
 tion now to consider, is on the punishment. 
 
 " The charge is a grave one, and merits a 
 severe penalty, unless there be sufficiently 
 strong mitigating circumstances to control it. 
 
 "As a general principle, crime should be 
 punished ; for the reason that if nothing hangs 
 over the criminal to deter him, it is really 
 offering a premium for its commission. Still, 
 it is an object of punishment to reform the 
 prisoner, as well as to deter others.
 
 142 THE- BOSTON BOY. 
 
 "There is no evidence to show that the 
 prisoner has ever been convicted of any other 
 offence, and the parties robbed have expressed 
 personally, or by proxy, satisfaction. They 
 desire, not only to drop the case, so far as 
 they are concerned, but to act, if justice can 
 be satisfied, for the good of the prisoner. I 
 am disposed in all cases when I am satisfied 
 beneficial results will accrue from lenient ac- 
 tion, to make the penalty for crime such that 
 it will be a benefit to the party, rather than 
 of such a character as to crush the victim in 
 his future prospects ; and yet great caution 
 should be used in judging between true pen- 
 itence and the counterfeit. 
 
 " In the case before me, I think I may, 
 under the circumstances, exercise some clem- 
 ency. I shall, therefore, order the defendant 
 to pay the costs of prosecution, and to be 
 confined, under the care of the sheriff, in the 
 county jail, until the parent is ready for sea ; 
 and shall order the defendant on probation ; 
 requiring bonds in the sum of five thousand
 
 THE TRIAL. 143 
 
 dollars for his good behavior ; the present 
 complaint to be placed on file, to be brought 
 up against the prisoner if he is ever arraigned 
 before this court again for any offence." Then 
 turning to Robert, he said, "You see now 
 what it is to have friends to love you and 
 plead for you. A reform on your part, will 
 have the effect of proving to them your ability 
 to become a worthy member of society ; while, 
 if you take advantage of their kindness, and 
 the indulgence which the Court now sees fit 
 to exercise, you again sin, it will not only be 
 an insult to the Court, which will be recognized 
 in the meting out of future sentence, but 
 weaken the confidence of every one in the 
 professions of persons similarly situated in 
 future. 
 
 " When your father is ready for sea, go 
 with him, learn to be a sailor, abstain from 
 vices that will lead you back again into sin, 
 grow up to be a comfort to that father 
 whose gray hairs must remind you that he 
 will not always be spared to you, and know 
 that it rests with you to say whether the
 
 144 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 evening of his life shall be cheered or blasted 
 by your conduct." 
 
 Robert was then .conveyed from the court 
 room, preparatory to his removal to jail. His 
 father gratefully paid the costs, and the re- 
 quired bonds were given.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE JAIL. 
 
 N George's return to the store, he 
 found a letter awaiting him from 
 Henry Clement, informing him that 
 his father's affairs were assuming a more favor- 
 able appearance than they had feared they 
 would at first. An arrangement had been 
 made which would still enable them to retain 
 possession of the house and farm, that his 
 father had accepted an agency of an insurance 
 company, that one of his sisters was intending 
 to procure pupils to take lessons in music, 
 in fact had already four engaged, while the 
 other sister had an offer, which she was about 
 to accept, of a position as governess in a 
 family in an adjoining town ; that sad and 
 10 145
 
 146 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 humiliating as these reverses were, they had 
 determined to accept the situation calmly, and 
 if possibly, cheerfully ; and for himself, he 
 was anxious to obtain a situation in some 
 store in the city, and asked George if he could 
 render him any assistance, closing his letter 
 by saying, " but for -the grace of God, I do not 
 know what I might have done in this time 
 of trouble ; but I place my trust in the Al- 
 mighty arm, and am consoled by the con- 
 sciousness that ' He doeth all things well.' " 
 
 George showed this letter to Mr. Wilder, 
 and asked him if he knew of any place he 
 could secure for Henry. His employer 
 thought for a moment, and then said, " I don't 
 know whether or not the vacancy created by 
 Robert's trouble has yet been filled ; but I 
 know the parties, and will at once call on 
 them, and mention your young friend." 
 
 In a day or two, Mr. Wilder told George 
 that he had had an interview with the proprie- 
 tor of the store where Robert had been em- 
 ployed, and found that the vacancy still ex- 
 isted, but that they were anxious to have it
 
 THE JAIL. 147 
 
 filled when they could secure the services of a 
 good boy. They were pleased with the infor- 
 mation he had given them of Henry's habits 
 and general character, as known by George, 
 and would like to see him ; and Mr. Wilder 
 had told them that he would have the young 
 man sent for. 
 
 George was very happy to have the oppor- 
 tunity to write such good tidings to Henry, 
 and sat down at once to carry the promise 
 into execution ; and the next Monday, brought 
 Henry with valise in hand to Mr. Wilder's store. 
 That gentleman, after a series of questions to 
 ascertain for himself something of the lad's 
 character, and being perfectly satisfied with his 
 replies, accompanied him to the store, where 
 he was at once accepted, and commenced 
 his labors. Of course the young men were 
 anxious to room together, and Robert's de- 
 parture rendered it possible ; so Mrs. Rice 
 made some changes in her domestic relations ; 
 they were given a large front room, and 
 George and Henry duly installed therein. 
 
 George, now thought, with reason, that these
 
 148 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 were halcyon days, and two happier, better 
 dispositioned young men could not be found. 
 Henry joined Mr. Thomas's Bible class, and 
 was as constant in his attendance there, and at 
 the religious services of the church, as George 
 had ever been. They were almost insepara- 
 ble ; wherever one was seen (out of business 
 hours), it was certain the other was not far 
 distant. 
 
 The close of the year, now approaching, was 
 characterized by a remarkable degree of re- 
 ligious interest in the church the two young 
 men attended. Many souls were converted, 
 and there was a large acquisition of members. 
 This state of things was particularly noticea- 
 ble in the Sabbath school ; in fact it had its 
 beginning there. Meetings were held every 
 evening, and George and Henry were earnestly 
 engaged in the kind of labor in which they 
 both delighted ; pointing their young com- 
 panions the way to God.. 
 
 Having obtained the consent of their par- 
 ents, and with the approbation of their Sab- 
 bath school teacher, they both joined the
 
 THE JAIL. 149 
 
 church on the same Sabbath, having given 
 good evidence of the hope within them. 
 The feeling increased, and continued very 
 deep through the entire winter, and the young 
 men had reason to praise God that his bless- 
 ing had attended their efforts for the good of 
 the young people of their acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Hutchins had accepted an invitation 
 from her brother to pass a few weeks with 
 him and his family, and was present at church 
 on the Sabbath her son was admitted to 
 church-fellowship ; and free from care and 
 trouble, as her life had been for years, the 
 Sabbath on which she witnessed George's pub- 
 lic identification with the people of God, was 
 the happiest she had ever spent on earth ; and 
 she so expressed herself on reaching home, 
 saying, in the language of the Holy Book, with 
 which she was so familiar, and apt quotations 
 from which were often reverently made in her 
 daily conversation, " Lord, now lettest thou 
 thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes 
 have seen thy salvation." 
 
 Her visit to Mr. Wood's house gave the
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Barretts and Wilders frequent opportunities to 
 see Mrs. Hutchins, which they improved, often 
 riding out to call on her; while she, during 
 her stay in the vicinity, made occasional calls 
 in return ; and these families, having such ad- 
 vantages for observation, would, in their fre- 
 quent conversations on the subject, ask the 
 question, " Which is the happier or more to be 
 envied, the mother of such a son, or the son 
 of such a mother ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hutchins was very grateful to the kind 
 friends of her son, for their liberality and good 
 feeling, but she exercised her right, as their 
 senior in years, to caution them against pla- 
 cing too high an estimate on him ; not that she 
 did not consider him entitled to all he had 
 received of kind treatment, but that he might 
 " not think more highly of himself than he 
 ought to think ; " (a self-estimation to which 
 he was not naturally prone, but from which 
 she desired him always to be free.) 
 
 The two families would have been glad to 
 have induced her to remain with them all 
 winter, but she was resolute in her determina-
 
 THE JAIL. 151 
 
 tion to return home as soon as she had fin- 
 ished her visit at her brother's, and all their 
 arguments proved fruitless ; and even Mary, 
 who was at once received by Mrs. Hutchins 
 as a pet, could only prevail on her to spend 
 one short week with them ; but they made the 
 most of that week ; and when she left, she 
 extended an invitation to the Barretts and 
 Wilders to visit her at her country residence 
 the next summer, and Mary secured a promise 
 from her father, that a portion of her August 
 vacation, if she was able, should be passed 
 with " Mother Hutchins." 
 
 During Robert's confinement at the jail, 
 George had visited him several times, and on 
 one occasion he went accompanied by Mrs. 
 Rice. 
 
 Robert appeared deeply penitent, and grate- 
 ful to his friends for their intercession in his 
 behalf on the day of the trial. He had asked 
 George's forgiveness over and over again, and 
 George had repeatedly assured him that he 
 had it, and that so far from feeling any ill-will 
 towards him, his emotions were of the ten-
 
 152 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 
 
 derest regard. On this occasion, Mrs. Rice was 
 asked by him for her pardon, and she told him 
 that she had never entertained any sentiment 
 towards him but kindness, and that her princi- 
 pal desire in his case now, was to see him grow 
 up to be a good man, and an honored member 
 of society. 
 
 As she was about leaving, and might not 
 have another interview, she took occasion to 
 give him some good, "motherly advice in a spirit 
 of kindness, which was well received, and for 
 which he thanked her. Taking his hand, she 
 said, 
 
 " Robert, you would have loved and tried to 
 obey your mother, if she had been spared to 
 you, would you not ? " 
 
 " I would." 
 
 " It might have changed the whole course 
 of your life if she had lived, but it was for the 
 best, no doubt, that you were so early in life 
 deprived of her counsel and care. I am a 
 mother. If I should give you some advice 
 that I think will be good for you, will you en- 
 deavor to follow it ? "
 
 THE JAIL. 153 
 
 
 
 "Twill." 
 
 " I may be plain, but you will not be offended 
 \\hen you know I speak solely for your good. 
 First then, Robert, leave off forever the use 
 of intoxicating liquors ; this, I fear, was the 
 direct cause of your fall ; next, avoid the 
 society of all those whose habits you do not 
 know to be good, whose words are impure 
 or profane, or who visit low and disreputable 
 haunts. I want you to occupy the time you 
 would pass in their company, and in learning 
 their ways, in improving your mind ; and to 
 that end, I want you to promise me that you 
 will read and study some books I have at 
 home, and will send to you. During your 
 expected absence from home you will have 
 ample opportunity to do this ; and if you fully 
 appreciate the benefits which are sure to re- 
 sult, I am satisfied you will never regret your 
 promise to me. If your mother had lived, or 
 your father's business had detained him on 
 the land, your facilities for this mental im- 
 provement, would have been much greater. I 
 knew your dear mother well ; she was too
 
 154 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 good for this wicked world, and her highest 
 ambition seemed to be that you might grow 
 up to be a good man. She often talked to me 
 about you, when you were very young, and 
 of her hopes for your future ; and she used to 
 talk to me also, Robert, of her faith in God that 
 you would be a Christian. I have not profited 
 as I ought by her good example, but I am 
 trying to do better ; and how much good we 
 may both be able to do, if we try ! It is not 
 too late now, particularly for you. You are 
 yet young, and if you will see the importance 
 of what I say, I know you will realize much 
 good from following my directions, and I shall 
 have no fears for your future. Now, will you 
 promise me all I have asked ? " 
 
 " I will, Mrs. Rice ; I do, and thank you be- 
 sides." 
 
 " There are some other things of a religious 
 nature, which I feel should be said, but 
 George is here, and he can say them better 
 than I can, and I need counsel on those 
 matters quite as much as any one. I leave 
 you with him ; I know he will do his duty
 
 THE JAIL. 155 
 
 to you, and I beg you to take heed to every- 
 thing he may say. 
 
 "Now, Robert, God bless you, at sea and 
 at home ; everywhere ; now and forever ; 
 farewell." 
 
 " Before you go, Mrs. Rice, / have a word 
 to say," remarked Robert. ' I am now in 
 confinement ; it has given me time for thought, 
 and I hope I am better for the punishment ; 
 it has been a lesson to me, at all events, so far 
 as this : I have learned to feel that I de- 
 served this imprisonment, and a severer pun- 
 ishment for my offence, and I am deeply 
 grateful to you all for causing it to be so 
 light ; but it mortifies me to be seen here ; 
 yes, it wounds my heart to know that I have 
 been bad enough to be sent here ; and I want 
 to say to you both, that as God hears rne 
 speak, and with His help, I will never 
 do anything which would result in my being 
 placed in prison again, so long as I 
 live." 
 
 Mrs. Rice could not reply, and Robert 
 could have said but little more, audibly. The
 
 156 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " farewell " was imagined ; they wrung each 
 other's hand, and Mrs. Rice left. 
 
 After her departure, George asked Robert 
 if he remembered the conversations they had 
 sometimes held in their little room at Mrs. 
 Rice's on religious matters. He did. 
 
 " You thought, perhaps, that I was intrud- 
 ing, perhaps impertinent ; but, Robert, I 
 meant it all for your good." 
 
 " I know you did, George ; and if I had only 
 listened to you then, I should not be here 
 now." 
 
 " Quite likely, Robert, but it is not too late 
 now. May I ? are you willing I should say 
 something more to you on the same subject 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " Yes, George, I should like to hear you. 
 I have had a good deal of time to think, since 
 I have been here, and have had several con- 
 versations with the chaplain ; a good man 
 he is, too ; but I think I should like to hear 
 you talk, for I have known you longer, and 
 noticed that you are not like some I have 
 known, who call themselves Christians, who
 
 THE JAIL. 157 
 
 pray on Sundays, and do not think of God 
 through all the rest of the week. I have seen 
 enough of you, to satisfy me that you are 
 my friend." 
 
 " Yes, Robert, I am. I would do anything 
 in my power, to see you a Christian ; it is 
 simple, ' ask and ye shall receive ; ' when you 
 feel that you have need of a Saviour, just ask 
 for grace, and you will receive it, freely, fully, 
 gloriously. O, Robert, as you will soon leave 
 this place to go abroad, what can you take 
 that will be of more value to you than a 
 Saviour's love ? 
 
 "In all probability, as I am told, a week 
 from to-day will find you on board of your 
 father's ship, and it may be the last oppor- 
 tunity I shall ever have to urge you to make 
 your peace with God. Life is uncertain ; 
 death calls all, young or old ; you are liable 
 to be wrecked. O, Robert, do not wilfully, 
 thoughtlessly, postpone this great subject, and 
 wreck your soul. I beg, I implore you to 
 give your heart to God now." 
 
 Robert was deeply affected. George asked
 
 158 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 him if he would allow him to pray with him. 
 They rose together, and knelt beside his cot, 
 while George besought his heavenly Father 
 to accept the sinner, who he felt was penitent ; 
 if he was not sufficiently so, to soften his 
 heart ; but of all else, to prevent by His grace 
 that the youth should leave that place, or 
 secure his freedom', until he could believe 
 that "if the Son shall make you free, you 
 shall be free indeed." They rose : George 
 took from his pocket a Bible, and pointing to 
 the fly-leaf, Robert read, "From George 
 Hutchins to Robert Ashley : may God bless 
 the reading of this book." 
 
 George had now exhausted all the time 
 which had been granted him to be absent, 
 so he rose to go, saying, "Robert, I will try 
 to see you again to-morrow ; please think of 
 what has been said, pray for yourself, and 
 when Isee you again, tell me that you have 
 made up your mind to be a Christian." 
 
 He had just left the jail, and was passing 
 rapidly through the street, when he saw 
 Mary Barrett on her way home ; and as his
 
 THE JAIL. 159 
 
 route to the store led directly past her father's 
 house, he slackened his pace somewhat, that 
 he might accompany her. She asked him 
 where he had been, and he gave her a partial 
 account of his interview with Robert at the 
 jail, how humble and sorry he was for his 
 offence, and expressed to her his hope that 
 Robert would grow up to be a good man. 
 
 She evinced a good deal of interest in him, 
 and when she heard that he was going to sea 
 so soon, and of Mrs. Rice's offer of books, she 
 announced her determination to ask her father 
 to provide some also, for Robert to read dur- 
 ing the voyage. This, George very much ap- 
 proved of, and she said she should speak to 
 her father about it, that very night. 
 
 " So, do," said George ; " Robert will be so 
 happy. I shall see him, probably, to-morrow 
 afternoon, and I shan't say anything to him 
 about it, but I am sure it will please him." 
 
 That night George and Henry went to a 
 young people's prayer meeting, and the oc- 
 currences at the jail were related, and the 
 prayers of the meeting requested for the poor
 
 I6O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 young prisoner. One and another led his 
 case to the throne of grace ; and when the 
 meeting was over, and they were returning 
 home, George remarked that he had a feeling 
 within him that he could not account for or 
 explain, but it was impressed on his mind 
 that the prayers of that evening would be 
 answered, adding, " Henry, I feel confident 
 that Robert will be a Christian before he 
 leaves that jail." This confidence, however, 
 did not deter them both from again pleading 
 his cause in their own devotions at home ; and 
 after he had retired, almost his last conscious 
 breath was a prayer, " O God, grant my pe- 
 tition, accept him, send down thy blessing." 
 
 The next forenoon, Mr. Barrett called in at 
 the store, and said to George, " Mary is a lit- 
 tle teaser ; she would give me no peace, until 
 I had promised to purchase some books for 
 the young lad who took such a liking to your 
 watch. So I had to please her ; and if you 
 can be spared to go out with me, we will look 
 in at some bookstores, and you may assist me 
 in making a selection."
 
 THE JAIL. l6l 
 
 George sought Mr. Wilder's presence, and 
 told him that he had been away the day be- 
 fore, by permission, to the jail, to see Robert, 
 and had promised him, (conditional on Mr. 
 Wilder's consent), to go again that afternoon. 
 He told him that he had found Robert in a state 
 of mind at once surprising and delightful to 
 him, and he felt in his heart, from what he 
 had heard and seen, that Robert was not far 
 from the kingdom of God ; that under the 
 circumstances, zs business was dull, if there 
 was no objection, he would like to go again 
 in the afternoon ; and added, that Mr. Barrett 
 was now waiting permission for him to go and 
 assist in the selection of some books that 
 that gentleman was proposing to purchase, as 
 a parting present for Robert ; that he knew 
 he had no claim on his employer's generosity 
 in the use of any more of his time, but if he 
 was perfectly willing, he would like to. 
 
 Mr. Wilder smiled, and replied, " Well, go, 
 and do all the good you can." 
 
 Mr. Barrett and George passed through 
 several streets and entered many stores
 
 162 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 before they found anything to exactly suit 
 them. At last, in one place, they found a 
 box, or library, containing twenty volumes 
 of selected religious works, which they both 
 thought were just the thing, and Mr. Barrett 
 ordered them sent to his house, to be for- 
 warded to Robert, as soon as he should have 
 joined the ship. 
 
 George's impressions of the night before, 
 with regard to Robert's spiritual condition, 
 had not been removed from his mind ; and 
 when he was on his way to the jail, in the 
 afternoon, he was all the way repeating, silent- 
 ly, the prayer of the night before. 
 
 He passed by the row of empty cells, and 
 had just turned into the corridor where Robert 
 was, when he heard voices, and on reaching 
 Robert's apartment, he saw a gentleman who 
 was introduced as the chaplain, who, looking 
 up at George, said, " Here is blessed news ; 
 our young friend has found the 'pearl of great 
 price.' " 
 
 " Yes, George," said Robert, " I have found 
 the Saviour."
 
 THE JAIL. 163 
 
 There was a scene in that room that after- 
 noon, at which angels rejoiced. 
 
 Robert, on George's departure the day be- 
 fore, had wrestled with God, and begged for 
 mercy, till at last light broke in on his soul, 
 and he felt himself a child of God. They 
 passed a delightful afternoon together. How 
 Robert blessed God for even the circum- 
 stances which led him to that place of con- 
 finement, where his spirit was liberated. His 
 cell was no longer the dark, dismal place 
 it had been, and his countenance was bright 
 with joy, and indicative of the peace that 
 reigned within.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. 
 
 T last the ship Lion was ready for 
 sea, and among those who were 
 looking on, observing the prepara- 
 tions for the long voyage, were some unac- 
 customed to such scenes ; some, in fact, who 
 had never, in all their lives, seen a vessel " get 
 under weigh." To others, the scene was no 
 novelty, (and for precisely this reason), they 
 were rarely seen on the wharves on such 
 occasions. 
 
 Early that morning, Mr. Barrett had sent 
 the library to the ship, with a note directed 
 to Robert Ashley ; and now he, with his 
 family, Mr. and Mrs. Wilder, one or two of the 
 boarders at Mrs. Rice's, and George Hutchins, 
 
 164
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. 165 
 
 were on the dock, waiting the arrival of Captain 
 Ashley and his son, who were expected every 
 moment. One of the mates invited the party 
 on board ; an invitation which they accepted, 
 and that officer took them- over the vessel, 
 showing them everything in which he thought 
 they might be interested. 
 
 Presently a carriage approached, and the 
 father and son stepped on board. Captain 
 Ashley was introduced to such of the com- 
 pany as he had never met, and all pressed 
 forward to grasp Robert's hand. He looked 
 well in his new jaunty sailor's suit, which had 
 just been purchased as a part of his outfit, 
 and which so altered his appearance, as to 
 render him almost unrecognizable. His 
 countenance beamed with pleasant anticipa- 
 tions, and indicated the happiness resulting 
 from peace with God. 
 
 As soon as he recognized Robert, George 
 stepped forward, and was the first to salute 
 him. The captain invited them into the 
 cabin, and they all went, Robert as anxious 
 as any, for he had not been on board since
 
 1 66 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 the ship was in port before, nearly a year ago. 
 As they- passed into the cabin, some one asked 
 where Robert's quarters were, and they were 
 shown into a comfortable state-room, commo- 
 dious and neat. Robert looked in also, and 
 saw with surprise the library set up and open, 
 with the note accompanying. 
 
 "O, George, this is more of your work," 
 said he, taking up the letter. 
 
 " No, Robert, you are mistaken there ; you 
 are indebted to Mr. Barrett for that," said 
 George. 
 
 "Another error," said Mr. Barrett. "This 
 young lady (pointing to Mary) originated the 
 idea, Robert, thinking that sometimes your 
 time might hang heavily, and a good book to 
 take up now and then, would be agreeable ; 
 while George assisted me in the selection. I 
 had rather you would not open the letter now; 
 it contains little of immediate importance," 
 said he, as he saw Robert about to break the 
 seal. "I should prefer to have you read it 
 after you have left." 
 
 " Well," said Robert, " I am very much
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. l6/ 
 
 obliged to you all, and wish to say that every- 
 thing through which I have passed, has, I 
 trust, been overruled for my good ; I believe 
 my sins have been forgiven, and am deter- 
 mined that my life, so poorly begun, shall be 
 continued, as long as I am permitted to enjoy 
 it, in the service of my Master." 
 
 " I am glad to hear this," said Mr. Wilder, 
 " and you have my prayers, and the prayers of 
 all of us, for your prosperity." 
 
 Then turning to George, Robert began to 
 say something of the debt of gratitude he 
 owed him for the interest manifested by him, 
 but George made a signal for him to cease, 
 saying, 
 
 " All the praise belongs to God." 
 
 During all this time Robert preserved a 
 modest, and at times, a bashful demeanor, 
 pleasantly in contrast to his former bold, de- 
 fiant style. 
 
 " Captain Ashley," said Mr. Barrett, " I 
 hope you will have a prosperous and pleasant 
 voyage, and return safely, with all your ship's 
 company, in health ; and that we may all live
 
 1 68 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 to see each other again. The Captain re- 
 plied, 
 
 " I am outside but a rough sailor, but I have 
 a heart capable of being touched by kindness. 
 I have seen during my stay at home, this voy- 
 age, more of Christian benevolence than ever 
 before in my life. I have seen religion carried 
 into every-day life ; and but for you, my friends, 
 where would my son have been to-day ? I as- 
 sure you, your generosity has touched my 
 heart, and led me to think of myself and my 
 lost condition, and now, as I shall be com- 
 pelled to wait for an hour or so more for the 
 pilot, I would like, as a favor, which I assure 
 yqu I shall always remember, to have a prayer 
 made in my cabin. I have commanded this 
 ship eleven years, and, to my knowledge, a 
 prayer was never made on board. Dedicate 
 her, and the ship's company to the service of 
 God, and, with divine assistance, I will en- 
 deavor to do my duty." 
 
 They knelt ; Mr. Wilder led them to the 
 throne of grace, followed by Mr. Barrett, and 
 then George was called on by the captain ; all
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. 169 
 
 praying for the safety of the vessel and those 
 on board, but more particularly for the salva- 
 tion of him who made the request, that he 
 might be brought to the foot of the Cross ; 
 and also for the recent convert, that he might 
 be kept from temptation, honor the cause of 
 his Master, and be the means of doing great 
 good. 
 
 When they rose, Mr. Wilder, in a clear voice, 
 commenced singing a hymn, in which he was" 
 joined by all present, the ladies included, and 
 at the unusual sound of which, the men on 
 board stopped their work to listen, as the 
 sweet chords were heard from the cabin. 
 
 "Jesus, refuge of my soul, 
 
 Let me to thy bosom fly, 
 While the raging billows roll, 
 
 While the tempest still is nigh ; 
 Hide me, O, my Saviour, hide, 
 
 Till the storm of life is past; 
 Safe into the haven guide; 
 
 O, receive my soul at last." 
 
 A few words in private, closed this confer- 
 ence. They shook hands, tears, manly tears,
 
 I/O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 were shed, and they separated, some to re- 
 main and labor in the Lord's vineyard at 
 home, while the others would soon be on their 
 way to a far distant port. 
 
 The letter which Robert was requested to 
 allow to remain sealed till his departure, was 
 opened as soon as the tug-boat had started 
 the ship from the wharf, so impatient was he 
 to know its contents. It read as follows : 
 
 BOSTON, February 13, 18 . 
 
 " MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND : In presenting, 
 in behalf of my daughter, the accompanying 
 collection of books, which may serve to while 
 away many a weary hour, and which, with 
 God's blessing, will Jbe -a benefit as well as an 
 amusement to you, I desire to add a word of 
 counsel, which you will not feel too personal, 
 for I am actuated by the best of motives. If 
 it prove beneficial, I shall be well paid. 
 
 " I am unable to express my happiness, that 
 the efforts of your many friends were sufficient 
 to secure the influence of the Court, and that 
 your punishment was so slight, in view of the 
 magnitude of the offence.
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. I/I 
 
 " You no doubt feel, as you have good rea- 
 son to, very grateful to George Hutchins, who 
 in this affair only manifested a magnanimity 
 observed by his friends before, and who ex- 
 hibited a spirit of Christian forgiveness, .both 
 rare, and worthy of example. Others have 
 also interested themselves in your welfare ; 
 and their action in your behalf will ever be 
 remembered gratefully by you. 
 
 " All your friends unite with me in the feel- 
 ing that you are now truly repentant, and in 
 the hope that your future will be brighter in 
 consequence of this sea of trouble through 
 which you have passed. 
 
 " Most heartily do I thank God, that in 
 addition to your renunciation of many habits 
 which probably led to your calamities, you 
 have given your heart to God, and dedicated 
 your life to his service. You may be said now 
 to have just commenced to live, and if this 
 change has been a thorough one (which we all 
 have confidence to believe is true), you have 
 before you a great work to do. You are young, 
 and it may be that God intends to give you
 
 1/2 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 many years in which to labor for him. There 
 are thousands of persons, old and young, whom 
 you will be obliged to meet and associate with, 
 who have no hope and are without God in the 
 world. A word fitly spoken by you, may be 
 the means, under God, of changing the whole 
 tenor of their lives. Omit, then, no opportu- 
 nity to do good. Let your daily life be such 
 as to bring no stain upon the holy cause you 
 have espoused. Guard well your words, 
 thoughts, and acts, that they may be pure ; 
 pure for your own sake, pure for the sake of 
 others who may be watching your example, 
 and pure because the cause is pure, made so 
 by the blood of the Lamb. 
 
 " You have my prayers that you may be the 
 instrument in God's hand of leading souls to 
 Christ, and in praying, hoping, and expecting 
 this much of you, I am not ignorant that you 
 will have to be very, very watchful that you do 
 not fall into your old habits. I do not say this 
 expecting that you will, but Satan is artful, and 
 many devices will be brought into play, to 
 draw you from the cross. I have, therefore,
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. 1/3 
 
 devoted more time to this particular point, 
 than any other. 
 
 " Be watchful over yourself ; live near the 
 cross, and all will be well. Do not neglect 
 prayer, and regular, systematic study of God's 
 word. Learn all you can of the plan of salva- 
 tion, that you may point the way to others. 
 
 " Be diligent in temporal matters. Learn 
 all you can of seamanship while you are gone, 
 so that if it be God's will that you should 
 succeed your father in his profession, you 
 may be the sooner prepared for it. As soon 
 as you return, if I am living, I want to see 
 you, and you have no better well-wisher for 
 your temporal and spiritual prosperity than 
 the writer. 
 
 " I trust your voyage will be a short, profit- 
 able, and pleasant one, and that you, and all 
 with whom you are connected, may sail safely 
 on the whole voyage of life, and finally cast 
 anchor in the port of heaven. 
 
 " I am, your well wisher, 
 
 " HORACE BARRETT. 
 
 " To ROBERT ASHLEY, on board ship Lion."
 
 174 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Robert feeling it a duty to send some reply 
 to his benefactor, sat down and penned the 
 following, which he sent back by the pilot : 
 
 " ON BOARD SHIP LION, 
 BOSTON HARBOR, Feb. 16, 18 . 
 
 "MR. HORACE BARRETT. 
 
 " MY DEAR SIR : I am very much obliged 
 for the nice present your daughter was so 
 thoughtful as to suggest to you, and also grate- 
 ful to yourself and others fop making so good 
 a selection, and I am no less thankful for the 
 good advice you have given me, and shall try 
 and live up to it. I shall pray not to be led 
 back to sin, and shall never forget, while I live, 
 the kind friends, who, while taking care of my 
 poor body, did not neglect my soul. 
 
 " I thank you all. May God be merciful to 
 me, and make me a good man. 
 
 " Yours, truly, 
 
 " ROBERT ASHLEY." 
 
 'Everything continued to move on in regu- 
 larity at the store, and it was now more than a 
 year since George first entered the service of
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. 175 
 
 Messrs. Wilder & Clark. His talent for busi- 
 ness was unmistakably good, and as the entire 
 time of two was not required in the counting- 
 room, George had acquired quite an enviable 
 reputation as a salesman ; in fact his whole de- 
 meanor was highly satisfactory to his employer. 
 Mr. Butler remained the same attentive, al- 
 ways present book-keeper, and was generally, 
 in pretty good temper, but occasionally, his old 
 attacks of irascibility would return, quite as 
 vehement, and to George's mind, quite as 
 inexplicable, only they took a different course. 
 He would, at such times, (instead of keeping 
 George employed, and finding fault with all he 
 did), send him out of the store on some frivo- 
 lous errand, ostensibly on business, but really, 
 as George often suspected, solely to be rid of 
 his presence. 
 
 In all these periodical attacks, George pre- 
 served the same quiet, placid manner, so pecu- 
 liarly his own, and no hasty reply was made, 
 or the slightest approach to irritability ob- 
 served in his manner, under the most trying 
 circumstances.
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Mr. Clark, the junior partner, (and the one 
 having charge of the New York branch), 
 came to Boston about once in two or three 
 months, and usually remained in town but a 
 day or two ; but he had observed George, and 
 liked his appearance, and the attention he 
 paid to business. Mr. Clark had frequently 
 alluded to this in his conversations with Mr. 
 Wilder, and at first jocosely, but subsequently 
 with more seriousness, expressed his desire to 
 take the young man to New York with him. 
 To this Mr. Wilder had always objected ; but 
 about this time, Mr. Clark, being in Boston, 
 told his partner one day, that he needed in 
 New York, just such a young man as George, 
 and quite earnestly pressed his claim for his ser- 
 vices. To be sure, if George did go, he would 
 be still in their employ, but Mr. Wilder was a 
 little selfish ; yet not wishing to appear so to 
 his partner, he proposed to mention the sub- 
 ject to George, and they would abide his de- 
 cision. 
 
 Accordingly, he was called into Mr. Wilder's 
 room, and the case stated ; to which George 
 replied,
 
 OFF FOR CHINA. 177 
 
 " I am very glad to have done so well that 
 Mr. Clark is willing to trust me, but if the 
 matter is left to me, I shall prefer to remain in 
 Boston. I am attached to many kind friends 
 whose acquaintance I have formed since com- 
 ing here, and besides this, I shall be nearer to 
 mother if I stay." 
 
 This reply pleased Mr. Wilder, although no 
 outward indication of gratification of the one, 
 or disappointment of the other, was apparent, 
 and Mr. Clark was obliged to yield. 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ILLNESS AND RECOVERY. 
 
 NE morning, Mr. Butler came into 
 the store, complaining of feeling 
 ill He had caught a severe cold 
 by having worn thinner apparel than cus- 
 tomary, and was suffering from a severe pain 
 in his head, which increasing in intensity, 
 he was obliged to adopt Mr. Wilder's advice 
 to go home, although at first he positively re- 
 fused to absent himself from his desk a single 
 hour. 
 
 He boarded at some distance from the store, 
 in the south part of the city, and was so much 
 worse on reaching his home that a physician was 
 at once called, who decided that he had strong 
 indications of fever, which he would try and 
 
 178
 
 ILLNESS AND RECOVERY. 1/9 
 
 drive off. But the next day at his call, so 
 rapidly had the malady advanced he was found 
 raving with brain disease. He was a strong, 
 robust young man, of full habit ; had never 
 been sick a day in his life, and the doctor 
 wisely conjectured, that from these facts, his 
 would be a very severe illness ; and so it proved 
 to be. George called the next day to see 
 him, at Mr. Wilder's request, and found that, 
 with the exception of one distant male rel- 
 ative (a fellow-boarder), Mr. Butler had not a 
 friend to call on with any freedom, in his hour 
 of necessity ; so he volunteered his services, 
 whenever they might be required, to watch 
 with the sick man. These were soon needed, 
 and for some time, he was by the afflicted 
 man's bedside two evenings of every week, as 
 a watcher. 
 
 Mr. Butler's reason, which forsook him early 
 in his illness, was long in returning, and at 
 times he was a raving maniac ; but he was so 
 weak that he could do no damage to himself, 
 or others. His mind, during these paroxysms, 
 whenever George was present, seemed to
 
 ISO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 dwell on business ; in fact, all his conversation 
 was on that subject. In imagination, he would 
 be employed in balancing his books, or a trial 
 sheet was to be taken off. Again, he was in 
 the midst of stock taking ; then puzzling over 
 some complicated account, which would not 
 square as he desired and expected. . New faces 
 would appear to him, and he would conduct a 
 loud and excited conversation with some im- 
 aginary customer, who appeared to be objecting 
 to his account as stated on the books of 
 Wilder & Clark. This peculiar feature was 
 more frequent in his mind than any other, and 
 his manner at such times was so wild and 
 excited, that George was alarmed, particularly 
 as when their eyes met, the book-keeper 
 would call his name, accompanying it with 
 epithets and expletives expressive of his de- 
 testation, and fear that George would discover 
 and disclose some secret which appeared to 
 weigh heavily on his mind. And what was 
 very singular, whenever these turns of his 
 delirium occurred, George and he were alone ; 
 and from the fact that none of the other
 
 ILLNESS AND RECOVERY. iSl 
 
 watchers ever alluded to it, George inferred 
 that it was his presence that led Mr. Butler 
 into this peculiar train of thought. George 
 was so impressed with what he heard, that he 
 was frequently determined to inform Mr. 
 Wilder. But on reflection, he concluded that 
 it was only the working of the disease, and 
 that Mr. Butler's applicatipn to business had' 
 been so incessant and regular, that there was 
 really nothing . strange about it ; while he 
 was so inexperienced in the care of the sick, 
 that he presumed, after all, that there was 
 nothing in Mr. Butler's conversation and wan- 
 derings of mind that might not have occurred 
 in the case of any one, similarly affected. 
 
 Through skilful treatment on the part of 
 the physician, and the constant and excellent 
 attention rendered by his friends, Mr. Butler 
 gradually rallied, but it was a long time before 
 he was able to leave his room. 
 
 Mr. Wilder had called often during his 
 book-keeper's illness ; and now he was con- 
 valescent, he visited him almost daily, and as 
 soon as he was able to leave his house, Mr.
 
 1 82 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Wilder's carriage was placed at his disposal, 
 whenever the weather was favorable for a ride. 
 Frequently, George would accompany him on 
 these excursions, which were prolonged from 
 day to day, as the invalid's strength warranted. 
 
 One pleasant day, as they were riding, Mr. 
 Butler's conversation turned on his recent 
 illness, and he asked George if Mr. Wilder 
 had said anything to, him, while he was sick, 
 about business, or the books. George said, 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Has he said anything about me at all? " 
 
 " No, only asking every day about your 
 health, and expressing pleasure at your im- 
 proved condition," said George. 
 
 " Well, when I was sickest, I was crazy, 
 was I not ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think you was." 
 
 "Did I say anything myself, about busi- 
 ness ? " 
 
 " O, yes ; you seemed to be working as hard 
 as if you had been at your desk." 
 
 "Did I appear to be engaged in any par- 
 ticular brancJi of the business ? or was there
 
 ILLNESS AND RECOVERY. 183 
 
 any one thing connected with the business 
 which seemed to engross my mind more than 
 another ? " 
 
 " You appeared to be settling some ac- 
 counts, and was excited and annoyed that you 
 were unable to do it right." 
 
 " Was Mr. Wilder present on such occa- 
 sions ? " 
 
 " No, he was never there during any of 
 those times ; in fact, I understand he did not 
 see you at all, while your mind was disturbed ; 
 and, although he called almost every day, he 
 would not go up to see you, as he said he 
 could do no good, and it was best to keep 
 you as quiet as possible." 
 
 " Well, I shall be able to go to the store 
 in a few days, and then I shall feel easy ; but 
 I have been very sick, George, and my atten- 
 tion to business has been so close for so many 
 years, that there is nothing very strange in 
 my dwelling on it in my sickness, is there ? " 
 
 " No, on the whole, I do not think there is ; 
 on the contrary, perhaps, it is quite usual for 
 persons similarly affected, to think while sick,
 
 184 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 of what was on their minds most, while in 
 health." 
 
 This reply did not appear to quite satisfy 
 Mr. Butler, for he added, 
 
 " You never heard during all my sickness 
 anything that would give you a bad impression 
 of me, either from my own lips when delirious, 
 or from any one else ? " 
 
 George could say with truth that he had 
 not, and the subject was dropped ; but, so far 
 as he was concerned, it was not forgotten. 
 He could now recall, with terrible distinctness, 
 some expressions of Mr. Butler's about the 
 books, and of imprecation on that " young 
 saint," (as during his illness he had called 
 George more frequently than by his name), 
 and he feared that there was something wrong 
 after all. And yet there had been nothing 
 said in his sickness, or since he began to re- 
 cover, to convince him that such was the case ; 
 and he was forced to fall back on his old 
 theory, that after all the disease had created 
 the phantom. Still less was he certain enough 
 to justify him in alluding to it to Mr. Wilder,
 
 ILLNESS AND RECOVERY. 185 
 
 although if he had known positively that there 
 had been anything wrong in the book-keeper's 
 course, his sense of duty would have led him 
 to do so, no matter what might have been 
 the result. 
 
 Mr. Butler was soon able to go to the store, 
 and ere long was seen at his desk, with his 
 accustomed regularity and application. He, 
 however, came too soon ; his physician warned 
 him, his friends at his boarding-house remon- 
 strated, Mr. Wilder suggested that he was not 
 strong enough to resume labor, but he was not 
 to be advised. He tried the experiment, and 
 a relapse was the result. It did not appear 
 in the same form as before, but his strength 
 failed him, and he was thought to be rapidly 
 declining ; but here again his naturally strong 
 constitution prevailed, and he eventually be- 
 came better, after many weeks of confinement 
 to his house.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. 
 
 HILE Mr. Butler was sick, George 
 was employed in making out the an- 
 nual accounts, and mailing them to 
 their customers abroad. Among these accounts 
 was one forwarded to a western firm, Messrs. 
 Swift & Brooks, who wrote back that there 
 was a material discrepancy between their ac- 
 counts, but that one of the partners would be 
 in Boston in a few weeks, and would call at 
 the store, prepared to compare statements. 
 
 Mr. Butler had recovered, and was at his 
 desk, one morning, writing. George was en- 
 tering a recent sale on the book, and Mr. 
 Wilder was looking over his " Notes Receiv- 
 able " book to see how much there would be 
 
 1 86
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. l8/ 
 
 forthcoming the ensuing month, when a gen- 
 tleman entered. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Brooks ; how do you 
 do, sir ? " 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Wilder." 
 
 A general conversation was indulged in for 
 a few moments, when the stranger remarked, 
 
 " I received your statement of our indebted- 
 ness a short time since, but it does not agree 
 with our books. I guess this time Wilder & 
 Clark have made an error." [He smiled when 
 he said this.] As he advanced with his doc- 
 uments in his hand, Mr. Wilder introduced 
 him to Mr. Butler. They had never met be- 
 fore, as Mr. Brooks's partner, Mr. Swift, had 
 transacted the business in Boston during Mr. 
 Butler's connection with the books of Mr. 
 Wilder. 
 
 When Mr. Butler heard the name, he turned 
 suddenly pale and almost fainted, attracting 
 the attention of all present. 
 
 " Are you sick, Mr. Butler ? " inquired Mr. 
 Wilder. 
 
 " N no, sir, only a little faint," almost
 
 1 88 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 gasped the book-keeper. A glass of water 
 seemed to revive him, and the examination of 
 the account commenced, Mr. Wilder taking 
 his ledger, and the customer his memoranda, 
 while Mr. Butler looked vacantly on. 
 
 " We'll take our charges first," said Mr. 
 Wilder, and began to call off, while Mr. Brooks 
 checked. They found the purchases, as 
 charged, to correspond exactly with the bills of 
 his goods which Mr. Brooks held in his hand, 
 ready to produce, should an error be discovered 
 in that column. 
 
 " Now for your credits, Mr. Brooks," said 
 Mr. Wilder ; then added, with a smile, " I guess 
 you'll find we know how to keep books after 
 all. My credits read down as follows : I will 
 call while you check on your papers. No mat- 
 ter about dates ; let's take only the amounts. 
 
 " Note six months, $879.52." 
 
 " Right." 
 
 "Sight draft, $1239.75." 
 
 " Right." 
 
 " Cash, $ 1 200." 
 
 " Right."
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. 189 
 
 " Note six months, $787.50." 
 
 " Right." 
 
 " Note nine months, $900." 
 
 " Right ; but you have skipped something." 
 
 " No, I haven't ; you must be wrong. I will 
 call again," and he repeated just as before, 
 Mr. Brooks checking once more, so as to pre- 
 vent error, until he came to the nine months' 
 note for $900. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Wilder, you have failed to give 
 me credit for $1250 cash on the 3d of July." 
 
 " We didn't receive it," said Mr. Wilder, and 
 he pulled down his cash book, turned hastily 
 to the date mentioned, and pointed triumph- 
 antly to the day in question, as well as to 
 several days previous and subsequent to July 
 3d. " There," said he exultingly, " didn't I tell 
 you we didn't receive it ? " 
 
 " I can't help what your cash book says," 
 replied Mr. Brooks ; " I have your receipt, and 
 here it is," saying which, he took from his 
 pocket a file of letters, and running them over, 
 produced one, indorsed " Wilder & Clark, 
 July 3, 18 ."
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. " 
 
 Mr. Wilder started ; George had never 
 seen him so excited before. " How's this ? 
 Where's Mr. Butler ? " George said, 
 
 " He just stepped out a moment ago, while 
 you were engaged with that gentleman. I pre- 
 sume he is not far off, I will look for him," 
 at the same time put. on his hat and started 
 in search. 
 
 " Let me s^ that receipt and letter again," 
 said Mr. Wilder. 
 
 It was shown him, and read as follows : 
 
 " $1250. BOSTON, July 3, 18 . 
 
 " Received of Messrs. Swift & Brooks, cash 
 
 draft, payable to our own order, on Messrs. 
 
 & Co., Boston, for twelve hundred and fifty 
 
 dollars. 
 
 "WILDER & CLARK, 
 
 " by C. BUTLER." 
 
 Mr. Wilder opened the letter, and read 
 slowly : 
 
 " BOSTON, July 3. 18 . 
 
 " GENTLEMEN : Your communication, en- 
 closing sight draft for ($1250) twelve hundred
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. IQI 
 
 and fifty dollars, was this day received, 'and 
 is passed to your credit. We were sorry not 
 to have received an order for goods by same 
 mail, but shall expect to hear from you ere 
 long. 
 
 " Our Mr. Wilder is now in New York ; ex- 
 pected home day after to-morrow. 
 " We remain yours truly, 
 
 "WILDER & QLARK, 
 
 " by C. BUTLER. 
 " To Messrs. SWIFT & BROOKS." " 
 
 George had been gone about fifteen minutes, 
 when he returned, saying that he had been 
 everywhere he could think Mr. Butler was in 
 the habit of going, but without finding him. 
 
 Mr. Wilder saw criminality in the conduct 
 of his book-keeper, but kept his suspicions to 
 himself. 
 
 " Take a carriage, George, and drive to his 
 house, and if at home, request him to come 
 here at once. Go as expeditiously as possible, 
 and I will wait here for you." [This was said 
 in an undertone, and heard only by the young
 
 1 92 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 man.] When George had gone, Mr. Wilder, 
 with a heavy heart, but disinclined to confess 
 to Mr. Brooks that . anything illegitimate had 
 occurred, desired that gentleman to continue 
 with him the examination of the accounts. 
 This was done, and everything else found 
 correct. 
 
 " Now take a chair, Mr. Brooks," said Mr. 
 Wilder ; " I expect Mr. Butler in presently, and 
 we will straighten out the affair." He said 
 this in an apparently careless tone of voice, 
 but at the same moment he was feeling, 
 " Would it might be done as easily." 
 
 He could not sit still. Handing Mr. Brooks 
 the newspaper, he walked out of his counting- 
 room and paced the floor, lost in thought. 
 
 " John," said he to the porter, " do you know 
 if Mr. Butler ever lunches down town ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, sometimes, I believe." 
 
 " Do you know where ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Go and see if you can find him ; tell him 
 I want to see him immediately." 
 
 In the course of time, which to Mr. Wilder
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. TQ3 
 
 seemed an age, but which was really very 
 short for the distance, George returned, with 
 the information that Mr. Butler was not at 
 home, and had not been home since dinner 
 time the day before. John soon returned, with 
 no information of the missing book-keeper. 
 Mr. Wilder went back to the counting-room, 
 where he had left his customer reading, and 
 said, " Mr. Brooks, there is something in this 
 affair I do not understand. Will you allow 
 me to take the letter and receipt for the 
 twelve hundred and fifty dollars a few min- 
 utes ? I want to carry it to the banker's." 
 
 " Certainly, take it ; I have other business 
 to attend to, and will look in on you again. T 
 shall want to see some goods, and I may not 
 be in till to-morrow." 
 
 Mr. Wilder never walked to State Street so 
 fast before. He went in to see the banker, 
 on whom the draft was made, and asked him 
 if he would oblige him by looking over his 
 files, and allowing him to see a draft (if he 
 had one), paid July 3rd, drawn by Swift & 
 Brooks, and payable to the order of Wilder & 
 13
 
 194 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Clark. Search was made, and the draft found ; 
 the indorsement examined carefully by Mr. 
 Wilder, and unhesitatingly pronounced a 
 forgery ! 
 
 Mr. Wilder then asked the banker, with 
 whom he was well acquainted, if he would 
 allow him to take the draft with him, prom- 
 ising to be responsible for it, which request 
 was granted. 
 
 Even if Mr. Wilder had been sure that Mr. 
 Butler was the author of the forgery, (as he 
 had every reason to believe he was), and could 
 he have had an opportunity to talk with him, 
 and had he shown signs of penitence, it is 
 possible, that this, being his first offence, would 
 have been overlooked ; for in this case, as in 
 every other, his excellent heart would have 
 shrunk from a public exposure which must 
 have resulted disastrously to*the culprit ; and 
 he would have endeavored, by the exercise of 
 kind forbearance and forgiveness, to win him 
 back to rectitude again. But he had placed 
 implicit confidence in him ; and although there 
 were many disagreeable ways about him, he
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. 1 95 
 
 had trusted him without limit, never for an in- 
 stant having had a suspicious thought of him 
 from the very first, because he had evinced so 
 much care for his interest, and had been so un- 
 weariedly punctual in his attention to his du- 
 ties (a punctuality and a constancy which was 
 now being accounted for in a very different way 
 from what Mr. Wilder, in his feeling of secu- 
 rity, had imagined). But what was he to do 
 now ? He did not know but at that very mo- 
 ment, Butler was, in the name of the firm, 
 negotiating for funds, with which to make his 
 escape. He did not know but there were a 
 hundred such cases on his books as that of 
 Swift & Brooks, and which time only could 
 develop, unless Butler could be found, and a 
 confession extorted. He did not know but he 
 was himself a bankrupt, and made so by the 
 duplicity of his book-keeper. 
 
 He very properly went first to his bank, to 
 see what his balance was : that he found right, 
 so far as his memory assisted him ; he ordered 
 no checks, with the signature of his firm, to be 
 paid at the bank until further orders, unless
 
 196 V THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 presented personally by himself. [This he ar- 
 ranged in such a way as to excite curiosity 
 only, no feeling of suspicion at the bank]. 
 He then called on his attorney, who, hearing 
 the whole case, told him that immediate and 
 thorough steps must be taken to secure the 
 criminal, and -the services of the police were 
 at once engaged. 
 
 Butler's boarding-house was searched, but 
 nothing found there to implicate him, so noth- 
 ing was removed, except a life-like photograph, 
 which would be of invaluable service for pur- 
 poses of identification. 
 
 The detective wanted to know something 
 of Butler's associations, who were his com- 
 panions, &c. This Mr. Wilder could not en- 
 lighten him on, but knowing that a young man, 
 named Carroll, one of his business neighbors, 
 was engaged to Butler's sister, of him inquiry 
 was made. 
 
 Mr. Carroll said that Butler came into his 
 office at about noon, and stated that Mr. Wild- 
 er had gone from the store, to be absent till 
 afternoon ; that a bill had been presented for
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. 1 97 
 
 
 
 payment ; that there were no funds drawn to 
 meet the demand, and he had borrowed of 
 Mr. Carroll three hundred and fifty dollars, 
 (the amount he said was needed at the store), 
 until Mr. Wilder should have returned. Now 
 both Mr. Wilder and the detective knew that 
 Butler had absconded. 
 
 Telegrams describing him were sent to New 
 York, Albany, Portland, and other places to 
 which he might have fled, and requests were 
 made that officers should be on the alert to 
 apprehend him if discovered. In the mean 
 time, the detective, accompanied by Mr. Car- 
 roll, sought for him wherever they knew, or 
 supposed he was $ the habit of visiting. 
 From Mr. Carroll, Mr. Wilder learned some- 
 thing of which he had been entirely ignorant 
 before, and which the former gentleman had 
 heard from Butler's sister, but which he had 
 forborne to inform Mr. Wilder, from a disin- 
 clination to injure or disgrace the young man 
 and his relations, his own interests being so 
 closely allied to the family, and that was, 
 that for some years Butler had been addicted
 
 198 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 to the habit of gambling ; but he added, that he 
 had been informed that it was only to a small 
 extent, and his belief had been that these 
 gaming propensities had been gratified from 
 his own individual resources, he never for a 
 moment having suspected that Butler had 
 appropriated a dollar of Mr. Wilder's funds 
 unlawfully, for any purpose. 
 
 Possessed of this information, the detective 
 passed the night in visiting gaming-houses, 
 but with no success. They were determined 
 to do all in their power to capture him, 
 although it was probable that he had left 
 the city. 
 
 Mr. Wilder, on returning to the store, told 
 George what he had discovered, and he was 
 overwhelmed with surprise ; but as this was 
 no time for folding hands, even if such a pro- 
 ceeding were productive of any good, it was 
 determined by Mr. Wilder to have letters ad- 
 dressed to all his debtors, enclosing a state- 
 ment of the balance due \Vilder & Clark, and 
 requesting an immediate reply as to the cor- 
 rectness of the account. This involved con-
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. 1 99 
 
 siderable labor, and more time than any one 
 could give, so, to facilitate the process, Mr. 
 Wilder asked George if he thought Henry 
 Clement was competent to assist him, if he 
 could borrow his services for a few days. 
 George replied, that during Mr. Clement's 
 prosperity, Henry had enjoyed unusual facili- 
 ties for improvement in penmanship and book- 
 keeping, and his assistance would be valua- 
 ble if it could be procured. Fortunately, Mr. 
 Wilder was successful, the arrangement was 
 made, and that very night the two young 
 men commenced the task. They were to draw 
 off the accounts, and write the letters of a uni- 
 form pattern, a form for which was furnished 
 them by Mr. Wilder, and read as follows : 
 
 " BOSTON, , 
 
 "Mv DEAR SIR: Accompanying please 
 find a statement of your account, as it ap- 
 pears on our books. We send it to you at 
 this time, as an error occurs in our books, and 
 we are anxious to trace it. Hoping you will
 
 2OO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 excuse the trouble it will cause you, and re- 
 questing an immediate reply, 
 
 " We are, respectfully, 
 
 " Your obedient servants." 
 
 These statements and letters were to be 
 prepared and written as rapidly as possible, 
 consistent with correctness, and placed before 
 Mr. Wilder as soon as completed, for him to 
 sign ; then, enclosing a stamp for the reply, 
 they were mailed. Strict silence was enjoined 
 on both the young men ; they were told to 
 allude to it to no one ; even the porter of the 
 store was ignorant of the cause of Mr. But- 
 ler's absence, and the extra amount of labor 
 now to be performed. 
 
 Mr. Wilder left them to carry out his inten- 
 tions, and went home, telling them as he went, 
 that they would have to stay till late in the 
 evening for many days, till the work was ac- 
 complished. To this they did not object, for 
 they would either of them do anything in their 
 power for the good man ; and George was only 
 happy that the education he had received at
 
 MORE CRIME DISCOVERED. 2OI 
 
 the Commercial College was so soon proving 
 of value to him. Irritated, and with an aching 
 heart, Mr. Wilder turned his steps homeward, 
 but not without a feeling of thanksgiving that 
 he still had in George one in whom he could 
 implicitly rely. At home he did not allude to 
 the affair, giving as a reason for absence from 
 dinner, press of business ; and no one looking 
 in on that family circle that evening would 
 have imagined that anything of an extraordi- 
 nary nature weighed on the mind of the hus- 
 band and father ; that he was burdened with 
 the knowledge that the young man he had 
 been like a parent to all this time, had shown 
 so much ingratitude, and so poorly repaid the 
 many kindnesses of which he had been the 
 recipient ; but if there had been any emotion 
 of anger in his heart, it was dispelled wheq^ 
 on the conclusion of his family devotions, in 
 repeating the Lord's prayer (as was his cus- 
 tom), he came to the words, " Forgive us our 
 trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass 
 against us."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ANOTHER ARREST. 
 
 HE young men wrote at their desks 
 at the store until nearly twelve 
 o'clock that night, and on the next 
 morning they were found at their duty at an 
 unusually early hour by Mr. Wilder, who ex- 
 pressed surprise at the large amount of labor 
 already accomplished. A minute was kept of 
 the individuals and firms addressed, that their 
 names could be checked as fast as intelligence 
 should be received from them. 
 
 Mr. Brooks came in, and as much of the 
 affair as was absolutely necessary was told 
 him. Mr. Wilder being satisfied that the 
 transaction, so far as Messrs. Swift & Brooks 
 were concerned, was a correct one, gave that 
 
 202
 
 ANOTHER ARREST. 2O3 
 
 firm credit for the twelve hundred and fifty 
 dollars which they had forwarded in good 
 faith, and little as he felt like the confinement 
 it imposed, he sold Mr. Brooks a large bill 
 of goods. 
 
 The frequent necessity for showing goods 
 during the day, rendered George's position one 
 of considerable perplexity, and of necessity 
 retarded the work on the books ; but as he 
 passed all his evenings now at the store, the 
 work steadily progressed, Henry's assistance 
 being very important. 
 
 Mr. Wilder had telegraphed to Mr. Clark on 
 the day of the discovery, and written him full 
 particulars since, requesting him to keep of- 
 ficers on the watch in New York ; but it 
 seemed hardly probable that Butler would ex- 
 pose himself in that city, where he was quite 
 well known in business circles as the book- 
 keeper of the Boston branch, and where infor- 
 mation of his presence would soon reach the 
 ears of Mr. Clark, if he should appear in pub- 
 lic, and thus his apprehension be made cer- 
 tain.
 
 2O4 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 At noon of the second day after the dis- 
 covery, a gentleman from Providence called at 
 the store, and in course of conversation, re- 
 marked, incidentally : " I saw Mr. Butler last 
 night, but did not have an opportunity to 
 speak with him ; in fact, he did not see me" 
 [He had presumed that Butler was in Provi- 
 dence on business for Mr. Wilder.] 
 
 "Did you? Where?" asked Mr. Wilder, 
 earnestly. 
 
 " On Westminster Street, about nine o'clock." 
 
 " Alone ? " 
 
 " No ; he was walking up the street with 
 Fred Harlow, a pretty fast fellow, too, he is. 
 I was surprised to see Butler in his company ; 
 but what is the matter with you ? You look 
 queerly. Nothing wrong, is there ? " 
 
 " My dear sir," replied Mr. Wilder, " I did 
 not intend to speak of Butler, or any of the 
 circumstances over which I am now mourning, 
 and which are nearly crushing me to any one 
 at present ; but you are an old friend, and 
 you may have it in your power to assist me." 
 He then related the principal incidents of the
 
 ANOTHER ARREST. 20$ 
 
 sad affair, concluding by saying that he should 
 notify the police at once, and the information 
 he had just received would probably result in 
 sending an officer to Providence to look Butler 
 up, and that his friend could undoubtedly ren- 
 der valuable assistance to the officer by fur- 
 nishing information of persons and places. To 
 this the gentleman heartily assented, saying, 
 
 " I shall go home to-night ; any service it 
 is in my power to perform in your interest, 
 you may depend on ; you have my sympathy, 
 and you shall have my aid." 
 
 As Mr. Wilder had expected, a detective of- 
 ficer was sent to Providence, and two days and 
 nights spent in search, in which he was 
 assisted by Mr. Wilder's friend, and an officer 
 of Providence. Every known gaming-house, 
 every house of ill refute or even questionable 
 character, was visited, but no trace found. 
 Harlow, with whom he had been seen, was 
 conferred with, but he professed to believe 
 that Butler came down on business, and re- 
 turned on the early morning train. He was 
 asked at what hotel he stopped, but even on 
 this subject, he plead ignorance.
 
 2O6 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 At last the detective concluded to take 
 the evening steamboat train to New York, 
 thinking that Butler's friends, suspecting 
 danger, had hurried him off to that city. He 
 accordingly entered the cars, and quietly 
 took his seat. He had no hopes of finding 
 him on board the train, so he muffled himself, 
 and sat in a half doze until the arrival of the 
 train at Stonington, where the cars were ex- 
 changed for the boat ; then, going on board, he 
 stepped up to the clerk's office to procure his 
 state-room key ; while waiting for his turn, 
 his eyes fell on a young man, whose counte- 
 nance struck him as remarkably like the 
 photograph he had seen of Butler ; so im- 
 pressed was he, that he determined to keep 
 a sharp look-out for him, and watch his move- 
 ments closely. They both arrived at the 
 clerk's window at the same instant, and the 
 officer fell back a little, to enable the stranger 
 to advance first. 
 
 " I want a state-room," said the young man. 
 
 " What name ? " inquired the clerk. 
 
 " William Bates," was the reply.
 
 ANOTHER ARUEST. 2O/ 
 
 The ticket was given, the number of which 
 the detective heard called, and then hastened 
 for his own key, and followed on. Supper 
 was ready, and both repaired to the cabin; 
 after supper, those of the passengers who 
 desired to smoke, went forward to indulge. 
 Mr. Bates was one of the number, and was 
 joined by the officer, who, drawing a cigar 
 from his case, asked for a light. This was 
 courteously granted, and in a moment they 
 were engaged in conversation. 
 
 " If Bates is my man, he is a shrewd one," 
 thought the officer, for with all his adroitness 
 he failed to cause, by look, word, or act, any 
 evidence of guilt to escape him. As they be- 
 came more intimate and communicative, the 
 detective 'broached the subject of crime in 
 general: this was brought around in a very 
 delicate and natural manner, and no suspi- 
 cion created, Bates not only entering freely 
 into the subject, but volunteering many 
 remarks, of a moralizing character, in regard 
 to the fearful increase of wickedness in the 
 land.
 
 2O8 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 After quite a continued conversation on 
 this subject, the officer ingeniously called 
 attention to the frequency of defalcations, 
 alluding to one or two large ones which had 
 come to light within a few weeks in New 
 York city, and reports of which had sur- 
 prised and shocked the whole community. 
 Mr. Bates was quite as willing to converse 
 on that, as on others matters, and the officer 
 was almost induced to consider this a case 
 of mistaken identity, when it occurred to him 
 that he would change his policy ; so he ex- 
 pressed it, as his opinion, that extravagance 
 in dress, and fondness for fast horses, and 
 gambling mania, brought many a young 
 man into a position from whicn he was 
 unable to extricate himself honorably, and 
 he would be tempted to borrow a little money 
 of his employer without his knowledge, hop- 
 ing " luck " would assist him in refunding it, 
 and so go on little by little, until the peniten- 
 tiary closed the victim's career ; that prob- 
 ably none of those persons, who were now 
 serving their sentences in the prisons for
 
 ANOTHER ARREST. 2(X) 
 
 these offences, intended to defraud at the 
 outset. 
 
 Bates had imagined all this time that his 
 companion was either a merchant or a banker. 
 His dress, appearance, manner, and conver- 
 sation combined to foster this delusion, and 
 observing this, the officer took care not to 
 undeceive him ; so Bates, in answer to some 
 recital of his companion, mentioned some 
 young men of his acquaintance who had been 
 brought up under religious influences at 
 home, but coming to the city, had first de- 
 sired to dress better than their means would 
 permit, then some of their friends, driving fast 
 horses, they must do so, too ; then they would 
 go to a gambling-house, from curiosity, and 
 seeing others winning so easily, they would 
 risk a little money, then a little more ; now 
 winning, and then losing, until not only 
 had the habit become so fixed as to make 
 it impossible to break it off, but their pecula- 
 tions were too extensive to permit of a 
 restitution. 
 
 Betting on horse-races was spoken of as 
 14
 
 2IO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 lamentably prevalent among young men, 
 clerks in stores and banks. " Yes," said 
 the officer, "Providence is quite a place for 
 horse-racing, is it not? You are a resident 
 there, I imagine." 
 
 "N no, or, yes, I am now" said Bates, 
 hesitatingly, and exhibiting just a little em- 
 barrassment in his manner, which the officer 
 did not fail to observe. 
 
 " Do you know a man by the name of 
 Harlow in Providence ? he is a lover of the 
 turf, I believe," said the officer. 
 
 " Yes, I know him, or rather know of him." 
 
 " Providence is rather a pleasant place for 
 a residence, is it not ? " inquired the de- 
 tective. 
 
 " Yes," said Bates, having now fully re- 
 covered his equanimity, " I used to live in 
 Boston, but I like Providence better ; still, 
 I think I should prefer New York, to either." 
 
 "How long have you lived in Provi- 
 dence ? " 
 
 "O, a few weeks only, or months rather," 
 said Bates, a little flurried.
 
 ANOTHER ARREST. 2 I I 
 
 The officer turned abruptly round, and 
 looking Bates steadily in the eye, asked 
 him, 
 
 " Do you know a firm in Boston of the style 
 of Wilder & Clark ? " 
 
 A pistol unexpectedly discharged at his side 
 could not . have started Bates any more ; but 
 hesitating to reply to this, the next remark 
 settled the whole matter. 
 
 " Mr. Butler, I have a warrant for your ar- 
 rest ; you are my prisoner, on a charge of em- 
 bezzlement." 
 
 Bates, or Butler as. we shall now call him, 
 shook from head to foot. He was as tractable 
 as a child. The strategy of the officer had 
 proved successful. Suffering himself to be led 
 by the arm to a less frequented part of the 
 boat, the officer told him that he must accom- 
 pany him a prisoner to his state-room, and he 
 should detain him in New York until the 
 necessary papers for his removal to Massachu- 
 setts should have been executed. Guilty as he 
 was of an enormous offence, and comparatively 
 hardened as he must have been, he had not
 
 212 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 sufficient command over himslf to feign igno- 
 rance or innocence under the piercing eye 
 of the experienced detective ; and in his 
 case, as in thousands of other instances, Sa- 
 tan leads into trouble, but rarely defends 
 his victims when they find themselves in his 
 
 V 
 
 meshes. 
 
 Butler was conducted to the state-room of 
 his companion, where the two remained until 
 the arrival of the boat in New York, when he 
 was safely lodged in the Tombs. 
 
 A telegram was at once sent to Mr. Wilder, 
 and Mr. Clark notified. The latter visited 
 Butler at his cell, but found him exceedingly 
 reticent and downcast, heartily ashamed of 
 himself; and now, fully realizing the terrible 
 disgrace he had brought upon himself and 
 family, he would not converse, and only re- 
 plied to questions propounded, in monosyl- 
 lables. 
 
 What would he not have given to have been 
 placed back to the position he occupied a year 
 ago ? Then his crime had not been committed, 
 he enjoyed his employer's confidence, and had
 
 ANOTHER ARREST. 213 
 
 an excellent prospect of a promotion to a 
 partnership in a firm he had heretofore so 
 faithfully served. Now he was a criminal, in 
 a felon's cell, with a prospect before him 
 of spending many years in a prison.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE PROMOTION. 
 
 OUR days after his arrest found But- 
 ler in the jail at Boston, and on the 
 day of his arrival Mr. Wilder called 
 on him, and what a meeting that was ! It 
 was a touching scene. 
 
 The strong man bowed down with sorrow, 
 not so much on account of the loss he already 
 knew he had sustained, but because he had 
 good reason to fear he should ere long know of 
 more of his late book-keeper's embezzlement ; 
 and the latter, so changed from his manner 
 when first arrested, endeavored, with only par- 
 tial success, to maintain a demeanor of uncon- 
 cern. After the first outburst of sorrowful 
 indignation on the part of Mr. Wilder, which 
 
 214
 
 THE PROMOTION. 21 5 
 
 had apparently no effect on Butler, the former 
 controlled himself sufficiently to ask why he 
 had done so. 
 
 " O, Charles, you know how much confidence 
 I have always placed in you. I never suspected 
 you of anything dishonest in my life. I in- 
 creased your salary from year to year, without 
 a hint from you that it would be wanted. I 
 granted you all the liberty you asked ; nay, I 
 urged you to take recreation time after time, 
 which you declined. I supposed your object 
 in refusing it was on account of the interest 
 you felt in my business, and yet you have been 
 months, I don't Jcnow but years, robbing me, 
 and your constant attendance at your desk has 
 been occasioned by your fear to leave your 
 books exposed to my scrutiny. I placed so 
 much reliance in you, that for years I have 
 not examined them with a view to their 
 correctness ; and yet you have abused my 
 trust in you, to how great an extent I do not 
 know ; but I have taken steps to have your 
 accounts adjusted, and shall know before long 
 whether I am actually ruined or not."
 
 2l6 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 To all this Butler preserved a stoical indif- 
 ference and a resolute silence. 
 
 " And what adds to my sorrow," continued 
 he, " is the manner in which you hear all this. 
 No contrition ; no explanation ; no answer at 
 all." Then, for the first time, Butler growled 
 out, 
 
 " You have made your charge ; now prove 
 it." 
 
 "I shall have to, Charles. I would gladly 
 screen you from the punishment your offence 
 will inevitably receive ; but I cannot. I shall 
 see you again. I am not angry. I have not 
 lived all my years without seeing something 
 of trouble, loss of friends, and many serious 
 legitimate losses ; but I never met with a mis- 
 fortune which affected my heart as this ; no 
 loss, in every respect, its equal. The financial 
 loss is comparatively nothing ; but I have lost 
 my confidence in one I have looked upon as 
 incorruptible. Do take the right view of this 
 matter, and when I see you again, do feel sor- 
 rowful for what you have done, and a part of 
 my distress will be relieved.
 
 THE PROMOTION. 2I/ 
 
 " I suppose it would be folly to ask you how 
 much beside the twelve hundred and fifty dol- 
 lars you have appropriated, would it not ? " 
 
 " I have no confessions to make. You made 
 the charge, now prove it," repeated Butler, in 
 the same tone as before. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Wilder (and now the strong 
 man wept), " Well, Charles, it will be a long 
 time before I recover from this shock. I don't 
 know but you have made me a bankrupt. O, 
 that I should have lived to see this day ! " and, 
 without trusting himself to say more, he hur- 
 ried from the jail. 
 
 The labor on the books, and in preparing 
 and mailing the inquiries into his customers' 
 accounts had been finished, and Mr. Wilder 
 was contemplating the employment of some 
 one, perhaps an expert, to examine and adjust 
 his books. To do this, he called on his friend, 
 the experienced proprietor of the Commercial 
 College, to ask him to recommend some one 
 to perform the duty correctly, and in the short- 
 est possible time. Said the teacher, 
 
 " What has become of that young man
 
 2l8 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Hutchins? He has not left your employ- 
 ment, I hope, has he ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ; I am glad to say he is with 
 me yet. I consider him a jewel, as my friend, 
 Mr. Barrett, often calls him." 
 
 " Well, then," said the teacher, why don't 
 you let him do it ? " 
 
 " What, he ? He isn't competent, is he ? " 
 asked Mr. Wilder. 
 
 "As thoroughly competent as any one I 
 could suggest. No young man ever graduated 
 from this school with a better general business 
 education. I could name others who have 
 had more practice, perhaps, since they left 
 here, but he is as well qualified to perform 
 the service as any one ; and if the case were 
 mine, he should do it. You still continue to 
 have confidence in him, do you not ? " 
 
 " As much as I have in myself ; and I am 
 very glad to find assistance so near home. 
 But if he is competent to examine my ac- 
 counts, and detect errors, if any exist, why is 
 he not able to keep a set of books correctly. 
 I have reason to fear that they are incorrect,
 
 THE PROMOTION. 2IQ 
 
 and my former book-keeper will have charge 
 of them no longer." 
 
 " He is capable, Mr. Wilder, and I can rec- 
 ommend him without hesitation." 
 
 " I thank you," said Mr. Wilder, " and shall 
 make the experiment. His modesty has prob- 
 ably prevented his praising himself, and so I 
 have been kept in ignorance of his qualifica- 
 tions." 
 
 " George," said Mr. Wilder, on his return to 
 the store, " who can I get to keep the books 
 now Mr. Butler has gone ? Do you know of 
 any one who can come ? " 
 
 " No, sir," replied George. 
 
 " I thought you studied book-keeping at the 
 Commercial College ? " 
 
 " I did, sir." 
 
 " Then how is it your are not able to under- 
 take it ? " 
 
 " I think I am, sir." 
 
 " What ? " asked Mr. Wilder, and the near- 
 est approach to a smile for many days played 
 over his face for a moment. " What ? Why 
 did you not tell me before ? "
 
 22O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " First," said George, smiling, " because you 
 never asked me ; and second, because I didn't 
 know you would care about my doing it." 
 
 " Do you consider yourself competent to 
 assume the sole control of my books, and 
 keep them correctly after having made a 
 thorough examination of them ? " asked Mr. 
 Wilder. 
 
 " I do, sir." 
 
 " Very well, then, I shall give you Mr. But- 
 ler's position, and you may commence your 
 duties at once. 
 
 " At the time you were receiving your pres- 
 ents for the act of humanity for which we all 
 felt so grateful, I had it in my mind to make 
 you some testimonial of my regard and appre- 
 ciation, but no favorable opportunity was af- 
 forded. But I have not forgotten the act or 
 the actor ; and I take this opportunity to ex- 
 press, in a partial way, my recognition of your 
 services by appointing you my book-keeper, to 
 date from the day Mr. Butler left the desk, at 
 a salary of, at present, one thousand dollars 
 per annum. Do as well in your new position
 
 THE PROMOTION. 221 
 
 as you have in your old one, and I shall be 
 perfectly satisfied. Your salary shall be in- 
 creased as your services may warrant." 
 
 " I thank you, sir, a thousand times, and will 
 endeavor to prove worthy of thS confidence 
 reposed in me." 
 
 During this conversation (which took place 
 in Mr. Wilder's private office), Henry was at 
 work at the desk in the counting-room, and it 
 was intended to have dispensed with his ser- 
 vices that very day had Mr. Wilder provided 
 himself with a book-keeper from any other 
 source. So when it had been decided for 
 George to assume the duties just assigned him, 
 Mr. Wilder asked him if he should like Hen- 
 ry's services permanently, if they could be se- 
 cured, for, said he, 
 
 "The concern he has been with is going 
 out of business very soon, and if it is ad- 
 visable we can retain him, and if you think 
 him capable, he may take your late posi- 
 tion." 
 
 " O, yes, sir, he is capable, perhaps more so 
 than I ; and he would like to be here always.
 
 222 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 It would be very pleasant for both of us," an- 
 swered George. 
 
 " Call him in here," said Mr. Wilder. Henry 
 came. 
 
 " Henry, I have appointed George my book- 
 keeper, leaving a vacancy. Your firm is to go 
 out of business, and if you would like to stay 
 with us, I am disposed to keep you, and pay 
 you the same salary as George has been re- 
 ceiving ? Are you disposed to remain ? " 
 
 " I am, sir, and obliged to you besides," an- 
 swered Henry. 
 
 " Very well, then, if the plan can be accom- 
 plished, as I have no doubt it can, I may as 
 well see to it at once." The arrangement was 
 effected, and Mr. Wilder returned. 
 
 " Now, then, it is settled," said he. " You 
 will both do your duty, I am sure, and I shall 
 take pleasure in doing anything in my power 
 to promote the happiness of both of you. 
 George, draw a check for twenty-five dol- 
 lars, and bring it to me to sign." It was done. 
 Turning to Henry, Mr. Wilder said, 
 
 " Henry, your regular employment with me
 
 THE PROMOTION. 223 
 
 commences to-day. This check you will ac- 
 cept for your assistance the past few days on 
 my accounts." 
 
 With thanks Henry accepted the donation, 
 and returned to his employment. 
 
 The mail now regularly brought replies from 
 parties who had been addressed on the subject 
 of their accounts ; and so far, everything cor- 
 responded with the statements on the books. 
 Still Mr. Wilder did not feel safe, for there 
 were yet many to hear from ; in fact none of 
 their heaviest accounts had been verified, and 
 as near as he could judge all of Butler's em- 
 bezzlement must have been done in the same 
 way as in the case of Swift & Brooks ; that is, 
 if money was sent by mail, he would appro- 
 priate a part or the whole of the remittance 
 himself, and receipt for it in the name of his 
 employers, but of course make ho entry on the 
 cash-book or ledger, and trust to luck in set- 
 tlement to cover up the affair till time and 
 opportunity was afforded to make a false entry 
 and balance the account. 
 
 Another pile of letters came by the after-
 
 224 * THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 noon mail, and among them was a statement 
 of a balance from a Milwaukie house which 
 did not correspond with their books, and in 
 which they found a deficit of one item, fifteen 
 hundred and seventy-five dollars ; and before 
 the week closed four others, in smaller sums, 
 amounting in the aggregate to four thousand 
 seven hundred and seventy-five dollars. 
 
 They had at last heard from all their cus- 
 tomers, and received full and indisputable 
 evidence of Butler's guilt in every in- 
 stance. He was still in jail awaiting de- 
 velopments. 
 
 George's good fortune in promotion placed 
 him in a position to gratify a long cherished hope 
 that his mother might take a house in Boston, 
 and he once more have a home. Accordingly 
 he wrote to her, informing her of the sad affair 
 at the store, in^which Mr. Butler was implica- 
 ted, and which led to his preferment and con- 
 sequent increase of salary, adding, that his 
 necessary absence from her had always de- 
 tracted from the pleasure he found in his resi- 
 dence in Boston, and requested her to think
 
 THE PROMOTION. 22$ 
 
 favorably of his plan to lease a house in the 
 city, and move as soon as possible. She, 
 ready at all times to oblige her son when the 
 means lay in her power, was really gratified 
 herself by acceding to his proposition, and a 
 very comfortable house was provided for them. 
 Mrs. Hutchins had an opportunity to lease her 
 house in the country, and in a few weeks they 
 were cosily located in their new home, and 
 Henry (for the two young men were still 
 almost inseparable) came to board with 
 them. 
 
 The intelligence of the proposed removal 
 was received with the most unmistakable in- 
 dications of regret on the part of Mrs. Rice 
 and her whole household, with whom George 
 had so long been a favorite, and in whose foot- 
 steps Henry was so faithfully following ; and 
 had the change not been for the purpose of 
 uniting mother and son, it is probable that the 
 strong and continuous arguments so strenu- 
 ously urged to induce George to reconsider 
 his determination to leave, would have proved 
 successful ; but as it was, Mrs. Rice was the 
 15
 
 226 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 first to see the propriety of the step, appre- 
 ciating, as she could, a mother's feelings un- 
 der the circumstances ; and regretting, as she 
 did, the necessity of losing so excellent in- 
 mates of her family, she could conscientiously 
 interpose no objection ; and it is also probable 
 that, would Mrs. Hutchins have consented to 
 such an arrangement, all Mrs. Rice's family 
 would have emigrated ; but it was her desire, 
 and that of her son, that their establishment 
 should be a home for both, an object that 
 would have been defeated if any addition were 
 made to their family. 
 
 In the case of Henry, his connection with 
 George had been of so long duration, and the 
 associations of the family were of so agreeable 
 a nature, and had been so for so many years, 
 that she considered him more in the light of a 
 relation than an interloper. 
 
 Both Mr. and Mrs. Barrett and Mr. and 
 Mrs. Wilder were very much pleased at the 
 prospect of having Mrs. Hutchins and her 
 son so near them ; and Mary, who looked 
 upon the old lady as a second parent, was in
 
 THE PROMOTION. 22/ 
 
 almost every day, at some hour, either in 
 going to, or returning from school, to see 
 " Mother Hutchins." And her sterling Chris- 
 tian character soon won for her warm friends 
 in the church, in which she early secured seats 
 for herself and family.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 
 
 T last the evidence was all in, and 
 the grand jury found a bill against 
 Charles Butler. He was put under 
 heavy bonds for his appearance at the next 
 term of court for trial, which his future 
 brother-in-law, Mr. Carroll, furnished, and the 
 disgraced young man was once more at lib- 
 erty. At the appointed time the case was 
 called up, witnesses were summoned for the 
 prosecution and in attendance, but no prison- 
 er ! He had taken advantage of his temporary 
 liberty to make good his escape, and justice 
 was defrauded of her victim ; and determined, 
 as Mr. Wilder had schooled himself to be, to 
 prosecute to the end (and the evidence was 
 
 228
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 22Q 
 
 so clear that there could be no doubt of the 
 result), it must be confessed that he was not 
 sorry that it had terminated as it had, for the 
 treachery of an own son could not have af- 
 fected him more ; and he had a horror of the 
 thought of sending the poor young man to the 
 penitentiary, where his testimony alone would 
 most assuredly have consigned him. 
 
 Time passed on, and the ship Lion was due. 
 Robert and his father had been heard from 
 once. George had received a letter from 
 Hong Kong, in which the former had written 
 the glorious news that his father had given 
 his heart to God. The particulars of that and 
 his own experience at sea and in a foreign 
 country were, however, reserved until he should 
 have returned. He enclosed messages to be 
 delivered to all the kind friends who had in- 
 terested themselves in his behalf, and promised 
 himself much pleasure in a reunion. Their 
 voyage had been a pleasant one, and they 
 were at that time to sail direct for Boston. 
 He desired that Mr. Barrett should be in- 
 formed that he had taken his letter for a sort
 
 23O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 of text book, and endeavored to shape his life 
 by the excellent advice it contained. 
 
 The newspapers were watched carefully, 
 and one morning George saw with delight, 
 under the head of marine news, " Arrived this 
 day, ship Lion, Hong Kong." 
 
 She was consigned to the same parties as 
 before, and George hurried down to the wharf, 
 in the hope that she -might have already come 
 up ; and she had. He saw her at the end 
 of the dock, her name flying from the foretop ; 
 but both it and the ensign at the mizzen peak 
 were at half mast ! 
 
 " Whafr can it mean ? Who is dead ? " 
 Then George tried to think it was some pub- 
 lic man who might have died, and whose mem- 
 ory they were honoring ; but no other vessel 
 had a similar badge of mourning. Then he 
 knew it must be some one on board ; of course 
 an officer or passenger. Could it be Robert ? 
 Was it his father ? Perhaps it was one of the 
 mates ? That would be a sad blow to their 
 friends, but George, perhaps selfishly, but still 
 very naturally, thought it would not afflict him
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 23 I 
 
 so severely. But he was not long in suspense, 
 for he had gained the side of the ship, and was 
 soon on board. 
 
 He met Robert coming out of the cabin, 
 evidently going on shore. George was con- 
 siderably relieved to know it was not this 
 friend. In an instant they were in each 
 other's arms. Robert broke the silence, the 
 tears streaming down his cheeks, by sobbing 
 out, " O, George, my father's dead ! my father's 
 dead ! " 
 
 They went into the cabin, and as soon as 
 Robert could control himself, he told George 
 that three weeks before, during very heavy 
 weather, his father was washed overboard, and 
 seen no more. A boat was lowered, but their 
 efforts were fruitless. O, how they blessed 
 God that this sudden call had not found him 
 unprepared ! 
 
 Robert then told George that from the day 
 of the prayer meeting his father had main- 
 tained devotion regularly, and was in many 
 respects a changed man. But after they had 
 been at sea several weeks he called his son
 
 232 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 one day, and told him he had given up every- 
 thing for Christ ; and the moment he came 
 to that conclusion, light broke in upon his 
 soul. 
 
 The circumstances which had deprived 
 Robert of his only living parent, also inter- 
 fered with his continuing in the seafaring 
 life his friends had determined for him, at least 
 for the present. His voyage had been useful 
 to him, and had his father's life been spared, 
 he would, in proper time, undoubtedly have 
 been fully prepared to take command of a 
 ship. For although he had enjoyed the priv- 
 ileges of the cabin, and was not entered on 
 the ship's articles as a sailor, he had oppor- 
 tunities of learning much theoretically, and 
 had studied navigation with his father, whose 
 purpose it had been to make him his successor 
 when competent 
 
 Captain Ashley was in very comfortable 
 circumstances, and left property which would 
 be his son's now, he being sole heir ; and 
 there was nothing which showed Robert's 
 changed disposition more markedly than in
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 233 
 
 the application he made to Mr. Barrett, at 
 an early day, to assist in the settlement of his 
 father's affairs, and then to become trustee of 
 his estate till he should come of age. Acting 
 under his advice, there were investments made 
 of the funds received from the sale of some 
 of the property, while his share in the ship, 
 being considered good paying stock, was al- 
 lowed to remain. But what was Robert to 
 do for employment ? 
 
 Mr. Barrett, in investigating the affairs of 
 Captain Ashley, had frequent occasion to visit 
 the ship, and opportunities were afforded him 
 to ascertain to his satisfaction from conversa- 
 tions with the mates that Robert's conduct 
 during the entire voyage had been exemplary, 
 and such as became a Christian ; that as often 
 as possible he would converse with the sailors, 
 loan them good books from his library, and 
 supply them with religious tracts and papers ; 
 while on the Sabbath (which his lamented 
 father made a day of rest as much as possible, 
 and who invariably, when the weather per- 
 mitted, would collect such of the ship's com-
 
 234 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 pany as were not on duty, to attend divine 
 worship aft), he would spend much time in 
 special pleading with some of those who 
 evinced interest in holy things. And the re- 
 sult of these interviews and labors was ap- 
 parent 
 
 The mates said there was no profanity to 
 be heard, and though neither was a professor 
 of religion, they both testified to Mr. Barrett, 
 that during all their seafaring days they 
 never met a more obedient, orderly, quiet body 
 of men before, and. they were not composed 
 of any better material either ; for out of the 
 half dozen who professed a hope in Christ, 
 three were brought down to the ship before 
 leaving port in a state of beastly intoxication, 
 unable on recovering to know how or when 
 they came on board. 
 
 There is no position on board a ship so 
 unpleasant for the holder, or more despised 
 by the sailors, than that occupied by a young 
 man, who, because he is related to the captain 
 or owners of the vessel, while learning, or pre- 
 tending to learn the art of seamanship, lives
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 235 
 
 in the cabin, and messes with the officers, and 
 does not participate in all the perils and hard- 
 ships of the forecastle hands. Such a one 
 is said to be preparing to "jump into the 
 cabin windows." And yet, Robert holding 
 just this position, by his gentle deportment, 
 Christian example, and daily association with 
 the sailors for the sole purpose of doing them 
 good, so wrought upon their hearts, and won 
 their affections, that they learned to love him, 
 and through him some were led to Ipve his 
 Saviour. 
 
 But again. What was Robert to do for 
 employment ? 
 
 The evidence of his reformation was so 
 positive, that so far as punishment was con- 
 cerned, it was not deemed necessary to banish 
 him from home any more ; and as the facilities 
 for promotion he would have enjoyed had his 
 father lived, were now lost to him, and as his 
 natural tastes would never have led him to 
 follow the sea for any love of the life, it was 
 considered best, under the circumstances, to 
 provide for him a situation on the land. And
 
 236 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 this they forthwith proceeded to do, and 
 through influence, soon accomplished, and 
 he was located in the counting-room of a 
 ship chandler, named Samuel Martin, a de- 
 voted Christian man, where he merited the 
 confidence bestowed on him ; and away from 
 his store he was as unremitting in his labors 
 of love for those around him, as he had ever 
 been zealous in the service of Satan. He 
 had one peculiarity : his tastes or sense of 
 duty led him to feel a particular solicitude 
 for the sailor, so much neglected, and his 
 new business pleased him because he was 
 now necessarily thrown into the company 
 of sea-going men. On Sundays, morning 
 and evening, he might be seen on the 
 wharves, or on board of vessels when per- 
 mission was granted him, talking or pray- 
 ing with the occupants of the forecastle, and 
 inviting them to attend church or prayer 
 meeting. 
 
 In reply to the question, sometimes pro- 
 pounded to him, "Why do you not join the 
 church ? " he gave occasionally an equivocal
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 237 
 
 reply, but the reason was soon apparent. The 
 church to which most of his friends belonged, 
 and to which for their sakes his inclinations 
 might have led him, was at a great distance 
 from the business part of the city, away from 
 the wharves where he loved so much to labor 
 for the Master, and was never to any extent 
 frequented by the class of individuals with 
 whom Robert most sympathized. He felt 
 for the sailor ; his father had been one ; he 
 had been thrown into their society more or 
 less all his life, and his first and only voyage 
 had had a tendency to increase his love for 
 the race, if it had not fully developed his 
 fondness for their pursuits ; therefore, in the 
 prosecution of his missionary work among 
 mariners, when his invitations were accepted, 
 he introduced his company, not to the distant 
 house of God where his friends worshipped, 
 but to the Bethel church, nearer in point 
 of distance, and more congenial from its 
 surroundings to their feelings ; because there 
 they would be more likely to meet more of 
 their own calling in life. And he very soon
 
 238 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 learned to love this church too, its people, its 
 pastor ; while in return, his generous, whole- 
 souled Christian charity so won their esteem 
 that he was counted a valuable acquisition, 
 and before long, one Sabbath morning saw 
 all his friends, old and young, at the Mari- 
 ner's church, to witness the solemn and beau- 
 tiful spectacle of Robert putting on Christ 
 by baptism. 
 
 He endeavored to seek out those of his 
 early associates who had united with him in 
 serving another master so faithfully, and lead 
 them the way to Christ. He remembered 
 Mrs. Rice's boarding-house, and the evil 
 example he had set there ; he remembered 
 being the first one to lead that lady's son, 
 Joseph, from rectitude, into spending his 
 evenings at the theatre, introducing him 
 to companions whose influence was so bad 
 that he was disgraced, and dismissed from his 
 employment ; and Robert's fascinations were 
 no less irresistible for inducing Joseph to 
 attend church, than they had been in leading 
 him into sin, and he finally had the blessed
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 239 
 
 privilege of seeing him walking in the way 
 of the Lord ; while the return of that happi- 
 ness which she had lost in seeing her son 
 so wicked, led his mother to think of her con- 
 dition ; and the unusual, but no less delight- 
 ful spectacle was the privilege of a crowded 
 assembly, when mother and son were ad- 
 mitted to the church of God, as worthy 
 members. 
 
 Robert's early education had not been as 
 good as most boys are favored with, but as 
 he grew older and wiser in other matters, 
 he felt the necessity of learning more y so, 
 with that indomitable will that impelled him 
 to overcome other obstacles, he found time 
 not devoted to his secular pursuits or relig- 
 ious duties, to study and improve his mind. 
 
 He frequently took part in their meetings, 
 and his voice, whether heard in prayer, or 
 in the fervent appeals to his unconverted 
 friends, for which he had a wonderful gift, 
 were listened to by all with pleasure, and 
 many with profit, while some thought they 
 saw a promise of special usefulness in the 
 future.
 
 240 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 His talent for public speaking was ap- 
 parent to all, and his employer, who often 
 attended the Bethel church, and had therefore 
 frequently heard him speak, was induced one 
 day in conversation with Mr. Barrett to allude 
 to his impression that Robert ought to study 
 in some institution with a view to adopting 
 the Christian ministry as a profession. 
 
 Mr. Barrett's reply was not more cautious 
 than was his usual custom, but his affirmative 
 was not as prompt as was expected, for he 
 had never heard him speak ; and having had 
 no conversation on the subject with Robert, 
 as in fact had no one else, he preferred to wait 
 until an opportunity was afforded to judge 
 for himself. This was soon to be ; for not 
 long after a public meeting was held, at 
 which addresses were made on the subject 
 of the conversion of mariiiers, gotten up by 
 the church of which Robert was a member, 
 and at which he was to speak. 
 
 Mr. Barrett, and in fact all of Robert's 
 friends were present, and if he had enter- 
 tained any doubts of the young man's ability
 
 THE VOYAGER RETURNED. 24! 
 
 before, they were dispelled. So to this 
 the matter was resolved : Robert is un- 
 doubtedly a true Christian ; he has an un- 
 mistakable talent for public speaking, and 
 an indisputable affection for, and delight in, 
 addressing the sailor. He needs a better 
 education, and with that, he will be the 
 means, under God, of doing great good. 
 
 This matter was settled in the minds of 
 all Robert's friends, even before he had been 
 consulted ; to do this was then the next point, 
 Mr. Barrett invited Robert one night to meet 
 a few friends at his house, among them his 
 employer, and in the course of the evening 
 the subject was broached. Robert's reply 
 was worthy of him : 
 
 "I am happy only when I can be doing 
 something for my Master. I owe him a debt 
 of gratitude I can only begin to repay by the 
 devotion of my life and services to him. I 
 have too much trust in you, my dear friends, 
 to suppose you would advise me to do any- 
 thing that would check, or in any way inter- 
 fere, with the sole purpose of my life ; so 
 16
 
 242 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 that, if you think I can be of any service in 
 my feeble way to assist in the advancement 
 of Christ's kingdom, by devoting my life to 
 the work of preaching, I can truly say, it 
 is the work in which I should most delight." 
 
 A season of prayer concluded the delibera- 
 tions of the evening, and after Robert had 
 left, it was decided for him to attend at once 
 to the work of preparation. The young 
 man's private purse was sufficiently able to 
 defray his expenses in the prosecution of his 
 studies, and he soon after entered a seminary 
 to commence his work
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 
 
 ENRY'S father had succeeded far 
 better in his business as an in- 
 surance agent than he had antici- 
 pated, and he had been appointed a special 
 agent for the company to be located in Bos- 
 ton, and to this place he removed his family. 
 This, of course, resulted in the withdrawal of 
 Henry from his pleasant home at Mrs. 
 Hutchins's. But they were still to be neighbors, 
 for Mr. Clement rented a house on the same 
 street, and almost directly opposite. 
 
 Fanny, the eldest daughter, was engaged in 
 giving music lessons, while Louise obtained 
 a position as teacher in one of the public 
 
 243
 
 244 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 schools. They were both well educated, their 
 instruction having been of the most liberal 
 character during the days of their father's 
 prosperity. Of course they did not mingle in 
 the gay and fashionable society which had been 
 their wont in their more affluent circum- 
 stances. They would not have been welcomed 
 in such circles now adversity had come, even 
 if their inclination had led them there which 
 fortunately it did not ; they found their little 
 world now within themselves, and each in- 
 dividual of the family vied with the other in 
 attempts to soften the blow which at one 
 time threatened to dethrone the reason of the 
 husband and father. And this very affliction 
 served, in their case, as it has done in multi- 
 tudes of others, to strengthen the affection 
 of the members of the family towards each 
 other. The Bible was now no longer a sealed 
 volume ; the family altar, which was erected 
 years before, but which the weight of riches 
 had broken down, now that that load had 
 been removed, was rebuilt, and their disposi-
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 24$ 
 
 tions led them to the house of God more 
 regularly and with different feelings than 
 when display and fashion had been the ruling 
 influences. 
 
 As soon as Charles Butler had furnished, 
 through his friends, the required bonds, and 
 had been set at liberty, he made prompt 
 preparations to place himself beyond the reach 
 of the officers of the law ; and it was long 
 after his failure to respond to the call for his 
 appearance at court, before any, beyond his 
 immediate family circle, knew of his where- 
 abouts ; and when the case was called, al- 
 though Mr. Carroll and the other bondsmen 
 were held responsible for his departure, they 
 denied all knowledge of him, and pretended 
 that they had acted in good faith in the whole 
 affair. 
 
 About two years after this, and when al- 
 most every one but the parties most inti- 
 mately interested in the transaction had 
 forgotten all about it, Mr. Wilder received the 
 following letter :
 
 246 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " MONTREAL, July 15, 18 . 
 
 "MR. FREDERIC WILDER. 
 
 " MY DEAR SIR : Your kindness to me 
 through the many years I was in your employ 
 has never been forgotten, although I abused 
 your confidence, and have destroyed my rep- 
 utation, at least in your city, for life. Your 
 treatment towards me has always been more 
 like that of a parent towards his child, than 
 that of an employer toward his help ; and 
 now I have reflected on my course, I am 
 deeply sensible of the treachery of which I 
 have been guilty, and humbly ask your for- 
 giveness. 
 
 " Soon after reaching Canada I obtained a 
 situation in a large establishment, and am 
 still employed there. I relinquished my habit 
 of gambling, and from the day of my arrest 
 to the present moment I have not touched a 
 card, for amusement even ; and God helping 
 me, I never will. I shall never forget the ex- 
 cellent counsel you gave me at the jail, which 
 I received at that time so coldly, so insult- 
 ingly ; but the seed sown then has sprung up,
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 
 
 and I am determined that the future of my 
 life shall prove to you that your Christian 
 advice and example have not been in vain. 
 
 " No one here suspects me of crime, and it 
 will be apparent to you that it is policy to 
 allow all to remain in ignorance. I beg you 
 to allow my secret to remain such in your 
 bosom. My pay, at first small, has, in con- 
 sequence of my attention to duty, been in- 
 creased, so that I have, by economy, been able 
 to save five hundred dollars, which I enclose 
 you, and request you to accept as the first 
 instalment on my obligation to you. I shall 
 continue to labor hard and live savingly until 
 I have paid you all, principal and interest ; and 
 when time has so far advanced as to make it 
 safe, I shall see you, and on my knees beg 
 your pardon for my crime, and endeavor to 
 prove, by a life of propriety, that I have been 
 benefited through your instrumentality, 
 
 " I also owe an apology to George Hutchins 
 (in whom you have confidence, and he de- 
 serves it), and an explanation which I intrust 
 to you to make to him.
 
 248 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " I noticed, from the first that he was a 
 good boy, and that I could not carry my 
 nefarious work on long without being detect- 
 ed, if I did not take steps to prejudice your 
 mind against him, and thereby insure his dis- 
 charge ; to that end, I treated him ill. I told 
 you everything I could find against him, and 
 manufactured much more that had no exist- 
 ence in fact, knowing that his knowledge of 
 book-keeping and quick perception would 
 sooner or later result in my ruin if he was 
 allowed to remain. His conduct towards me 
 through all my ill treatment to him has af- 
 flicted me deeply since. I have had time to 
 reflect, and I wish you to express this my 
 sentiment to him, and ask his forgiveness ; 
 and let me ask you both to remain silent, so 
 far as my location is, at least for the present. 
 
 " My health is not good. I have never been 
 well since my fever attack ; but my prayer is, 
 that my life may be spared until I have 
 liquidated my/ obligations to you. May I 
 again ask that you will not inform any one 
 of this, so that I may not be interrupted in
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 249 
 
 the now sole purpose of my life, to place 
 you financially in the position 'you occupied 
 before I was led astray. 
 
 A letter will reach me, if directed to my 
 full name, 38 Rue d'Eau, Montreal. 
 
 " Yours with much respect, 
 
 "CHARLES BUTLER." 
 
 This was very unexpected news to Mr. 
 Wilder, and the recovery of a portion of his 
 lost funds, arid the prospect of still further 
 additions, was not more gratifying than to 
 know that a reformation had taken place in 
 the character of his late book-keeper. He 
 sat down on the day of the receipt of the 
 communication, and penned the following :- 
 
 " BOSTON, June 19, 18 . 
 
 Mv DEAR CHARLES: 'There is joy in 
 heaven over one sinner that repenteth.' I 
 could but thank God that you are not lost ; 
 that you still have a heart affected by the 
 past, and a disposition to amend in the future. 
 You shall always have my prayers that the
 
 25O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 good Spirit may continue to move, until the 
 work of grace is complete. 
 
 " The remittance of five hundred dollars 
 came duly to hand, and I thank you for re- 
 membering me. 
 
 " I shall continue to keep your secret as you 
 request, and until you say that it will be con- 
 genial to your feelings, no one but George and 
 I shall know it. 
 
 " George has desired me to say that you 
 have his full, free, hearty forgiveness for any- 
 thing you may have done with a view to his 
 injury, and you have our prayers for your 
 continued prosperity in business, and, above 
 all, that you may give your heart to God. 
 
 " I pray Heaven that your life may be spared 
 many years to serve the Lord, and do much 
 good. 
 
 " I am, yours affectionately, 
 
 "F. WILDER." 
 
 The business abilities of George and Henry 
 had been tested to Mr. Wilder's entire sat- 
 isfaction. Their trade for the four years
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 251 
 
 now elapsed since Mr. Butler's defalcation 
 had been steadily increasing, and quite profit- 
 able ; and Mr. Wilder, although by no means 
 an old man, had been many years in trade, 
 and had amassed a considerable fortune. His 
 losses had been comparatively few, and he felt 
 that he could now with propriety retire from 
 active life, and spend the balance of his days 
 in the enjoyment of what he had with honor 
 accumulated. 
 
 Mr. Barrett, when he made the statement 
 to Mrs. Hutchins, that he should consider it 
 a privilege to watch over the interests of her 
 son, and at some time perhaps see an oppor- 
 tunity to render him additional service, had it 
 in his mind to assist George into business 
 when he should have reached the age of 
 twenty-one, having no knowledge of Mr. 
 Wilder's designs in the premises. But the 
 latter gentleman had a plan of his own, which 
 he had never confided to Mr. Barrett, until 
 one day, in a conversation, George's approach- 
 ing majority formed the principal topic. Said 
 Mr. Barrett,
 
 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 " George will .soon be old enough to start 
 in life for himself. I have for a long time 
 been locking forward anxiously to the oppor- 
 tunity I shall soon have of indicating my con- 
 fidence in and regard for the young man 
 whom we all have, so much reason to regard 
 with gratitude, and am desirous to consult 
 with you as to the best course to pursue in 
 the matter." 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Wilder, " I am quite ready 
 to talk on that subject, for I was going to 
 introduce it myself. I have done, thank God, 
 business enough to entitle me to rest now, 
 and though not what you would call rich," he 
 said with a smile, " yet I can with economy 
 exist without more labor. I am going to re- 
 tire from business at the close of the year." 
 
 " If that is the case," said Mr. Barrett, " I 
 propose to furnish George with capital to carry 
 on the same business, if there is not any ob- 
 jection." 
 
 " And deprive me of the opportunity I have 
 been anticipating ? " inquired Mr. Wilder. 
 
 " Not at all," replied Mr. Barrett. " I will
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 253 
 
 assist, and George and Henry, ' the insep- 
 arable,' shall continue together. They are of 
 about the same age, I believe." 
 
 " Yes ; Henry is about two months the 
 junior, I think, but both will be twenty-one 
 before the first of January." 
 
 Well, then, if that is the case, and you pro- 
 pose to retire with the close of trie year, let 
 the new copartnership commence with January 
 first," said Mr. Barrett. 
 
 " Agreed," said Mr. Wilder ; " now we will 
 see the young men." 
 
 Astonishment and gratitude were the emo- 
 tions of both George and Henry at this last 
 act of generosity on the part of their friends ; 
 but Henry was probably more ama2ed than 
 his companion, for George had received a hint 
 more than once from a certain member of 
 Mr. Barrett's family, that something was to be 
 done for his benefit, but Henry felt that he 
 had no claim to such a gratuity, and for a 
 while it astounded him. 
 
 The newspapers of the first day of January, 
 published the announcement of the dissolution
 
 254 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 of the partnership of Wilder and Clark, and 
 the formation of a new one under the style of 
 Hutchins, Clement & Co., to continue the 
 business of the late firm ; and in a card ac- 
 companying the advertisement, Mr. Wilder 
 bespoke a liberal continuance of patronage. 
 
 In his frequent visits to the house of Mr. 
 Barrett (for he had been a constant caller 
 since his introduction to the family), George 
 Hutchins and Mary Barrett had been thrown 
 a great deal into each other's society, and it 
 is not surprising that the brotherly and sis- 
 terly affection which they very early enter- 
 tained towards each other should ripen into 
 another and stronger relation. " Everybody " 
 had observed it, in fact " everybody " had 
 prophesied it, perhaps before the parties them- 
 selves had thoroughly realized it ; and when, 
 a short time after, the new and handsome sign 
 of Hutchins, Clement & Co. had been elevated 
 to the position where that of Wilder & Clark 
 had so long hung, George asked of Mr. Bar- 
 rett the hand of Mary. His hearty affirmation 
 was given, with an earnestness and emphasis
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 255 
 
 which indicated how agreeable the arrange- 
 ment was to the parent. In order that these 
 " everybodies," who " had known it all along," 
 might enjoy the engagement with the parents 
 and friends of the parties most intimately in- 
 terested, Mr. and Mrs. Barrett gave a large 
 party in honor of the event. As our ac- 
 qaintance with the parties has been long and 
 intimate enough to entitle us to an invitation, 
 we will accept it ; and eight o'clock finds us 
 at the door of their hospitable mansion. 
 
 Most of the guests are assembled ; and al- 
 though there are a great many present who 
 are strangers to us, we meet several of our 
 old friends. 
 
 Of course Mother Hutchins is here, with 
 the same gentle smile on her countenance, 
 extending her hand in affectionate grasp to 
 her many friends, all of whom love her, for 
 " none knew her but to love her ; none named 
 her but to praise." 
 
 Her hair has grown white ; but those gray 
 hairs are an honor, and we imagine we detect 
 some of that pride in her that she so naturally
 
 256 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 felt some years since, on receiving George's 
 picture, and the letter from Mr. Barrett ac- 
 knowledging her son's services. We did not 
 blame her then, or wonder at it ; we do not 
 now, for there is no sin in such pride. He 
 had proved himself worthy of all the confi- 
 dence reposed in him, and when the young 
 merchant, with his betrothed on his arm, 
 passed through the long spacious parlors to 
 receive that mother's blessing, it was no 
 wonder that as she saw them, the boy of her 
 heart, and the young and beautiful creature he 
 had chosen of all others to be his partner for 
 life, his companion in joys and sorrows (and 
 beautiful she was, not only in form and feature, 
 but resplendent with grace of heart, tran- 
 scending all personal charms), it is no wonder 
 that her maternal eye should brighten, and 
 just the least color in the world overspread 
 her face, as she stood with extended arms to 
 receive them, looking every inch a queen. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Barrett and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wilder were very happy. They had long an- 
 ticipated this result, and had looked forward
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 257 
 
 to it with joyful expectation ; and if they, or 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wood, George's uncle and aunt, 
 who are present, do for a moment think of the 
 trying ordeal of suspicion through which the 
 young man once passed, the thought is in- 
 stantly dispelled by the consciousness that but 
 for the sorrowful circumstances of that occa- 
 sion his many excellent qualities might have 
 never been appreciated. 
 
 Mrs. Clement, Henry and Louise, we see 
 present, but Mr. Clement is detained at home 
 by illness. He has never recovered from the 
 shock his misfortune caused, and rarely goes 
 out in the evening. He is in failing health, 
 although his family and immediate friends do 
 not observe it. Fanny did not enter with her 
 mother ; but before we have time to inquire 
 about her, we see her coming in, accompanied 
 by a tall, handsome, young, man, whose bearded 
 face has changed so much since the arrival 
 of the ship Lion, some years ago, that until 
 his name is announced, we do not recognize 
 Robert Ashley. He is in his last year of 
 College, and his mind has improved quite as 
 17
 
 258 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 much as his body. No one would imagine 
 that the dignified, clerical looking gentleman 
 who is now engaged so earnestly in conver- 
 sation with Mr. Barrett, is the same one who, 
 a few short years ago, stood at the bar of a 
 criminal court room, self-convicted of crime, 
 while interested friends sought earnestly for a 
 mitigation of the punishment his guilt de- 
 served. And what a blessed thought it is 
 that those very trials through which he passed, 
 and the instrumentality of these very friends, 
 were the means which the Almighty ordained 
 as the process to prepare his youthful servant 
 for the work he was now fitting himself, labor 
 for souls. 
 
 We miss one face that we supposed we 
 should certainly see here, for he loved the 
 young man whose happy connection all were 
 present to congratulate him upon, and his af- 
 fection was reciprocated ; but Theodore 
 Thomas, the faithful Sabbath school teacher, 
 is now receiving his reward in heaven. 
 
 The evening was pleasantly spent in con- 
 versation and music ; and in the latter ac-
 
 BUSINESS FIDELITY REWARDED. 259 
 
 complishment, Miss Fanny Clement had an 
 opportunity to display, to excellent advantage, 
 her abilities as a pianist, which were very 
 creditable to her, and which, in her father's 
 distress, were made of such valuable pecuniary 
 assistance to the family. 
 
 At a late hour the brilliant assembly dis- 
 persed.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 
 
 R. CLEMENT continued to grow 
 gradually worse, but his decline 
 was so gradual that it created no 
 1 alarm, and was to the immediate members of 
 the family almost imperceptible ; and he was 
 himself so unconscious of danger as to oppose 
 the calling of a physician, which the family 
 had been anxious to do. 
 
 But at last, one Saturday night, about six 
 months after the party, as Robert had called 
 in, intending to pass the Sabbath with them, 
 as he now frequently did, he found the sick man 
 sb much changed that it alarmed him, and he 
 strongly urged that a doctor should be sent 
 for, immediately ; and although Mr. Clement 
 
 260
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 26 1 
 
 objected, the family and Robert insisted, and 
 finally prevailed. The first question was, 
 
 " Why was I not sent for before ? " 
 
 This question, more than any other which 
 can be propounded to a family where there is 
 a case of severe illness, carries terrible signifi- 
 cance with it. 
 
 He pronounced Mr. Clement in a very criti- 
 cal condition. He should have been treated 
 medically days, perhaps weeks, before, but 
 everything that science could suggest should 
 be done. But, alas ! his constitution, never 
 strong, was unable to wrestle successfully with 
 the terrible hold the insidious disease had 
 taken, and he sank rapidly away, until the 
 next Tuesday, when his spirit took its flight. 
 He had gone to enjoy that rest he had so 
 vainly sought below. 
 
 What a terrible blow to the family. There 
 had never been a more affectionate circle. In 
 his prosperity he had been an indulgent parent, 
 a devoted husband. No want had ever been 
 expressed, or desire he could anticipate, but had 
 been gratified ; and when, by one fell swoop,
 
 262 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 his riches took to themselves wings and flew 
 away, the affection of wife and children found 
 an opportunity, never before offered, to labor 
 and economize in ways he little dreamed of, 
 that the dear husband and father might not be 
 deprived of any comfort or luxury which he 
 had heretofore enjoyed. 
 
 In early life both Mr. and Mrs. Clement had 
 given their hearts to God, and their family, 
 particularly during childhood, had been edu- 
 cated in the nurture and admonition of the 
 Lord. But as their days of prosperity came, 
 and their associations in life became of a dif- 
 ferent character, their religious obligations 
 were, one after another, neglected, and gayety 
 and frivolity usurped the place of Christian 
 duty ; and when the financial crisis came, they 
 were found without the arm of the Lord to 
 support them, it had been so long since His 
 aid had been implored. But in their case, as 
 in myriads of others, this was probably God's 
 method of bringing his children to himself 
 and their duty ; and taking the proper view of 
 the calamity, they very soon became recon-
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 263 
 
 ciled to their lot, seeing God's hand in it, and 
 bent their energies, with redoubled vigor, to 
 their Master's work. 
 
 ^Mr. Clement was often heard to say that he 
 had enjoyed more of Christ and religion since 
 his property had been removed than ever be- 
 fore ; and during his long sickness he had time 
 for reflection and prayer, that fitted him for the 
 great change which awaited him. A more 
 peaceful death-bed scene was never witnessed. 
 
 On Monday night the doctor had told the 
 friends that Mr. Clement could not probably 
 live through another day, and he was so in- 
 formed. He was not surprised, however, and 
 expressed a willingness to go, and his only re- 
 gret seemed to be at leaving his dear family. 
 
 Robert had remained with the family during 
 the day, as Mr. Clement was apparently so 
 near his end, and on Tuesday evening was in 
 another part of the house, when he was sum- 
 moned to the bedside of the sick man, where 
 he found all the members of the family assem- 
 bled. Mr. Clement had been lying in a stupor, 
 but had suddenly revived, and called for him.
 
 264 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 As he entered, the sick man beckoned to him, 
 and extending his thin, wasted hand, placed it 
 in Robert's, saying, 
 
 " Robert, I am about to leave this world of 
 sin, and at dying I have no fears, and but one 
 regret, that is, to leave my dear family. I had 
 hoped to live to see you the preacher of good 
 tidings to a world dead in sin ; but it has been 
 otherwise ordered, and I feel that with one re- 
 quest gratified, I can say, contentedly, ' Come, 
 Lord Jesus, come quickly.' I have noticed the 
 affection which has so long existed between 
 Fanny and yourself with a great deal of inter- 
 est and gratification, and hoped to live to see 
 you united. I should then feel that my dear 
 wife had another arm on which to lean, my 
 children another brother, and Fanny a pro- 
 tector through life. This sight is denied me ; 
 but it will soften my dying pillow, if I know 
 that at an early day such will be the case. I 
 know you are both agreed in the matter, and 
 that it will only be a question of time ; but, in 
 this solemn hour, as my footsteps are just 
 taking hold on death, join your hands, and let 
 me give you a father's blessing."
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 26$ 
 
 The two did as requested, and amid the 
 sobs of all present, the father, with a remarka- 
 bly strong effort, offered a brief prayer of 
 benediction, consecrating them to a heavenly 
 Father's protection, asked God's kind care 
 and shelter towards the rest of his mourning 
 family, sank back on his pillow, and breathed 
 no more. 
 
 The funeral services were held at the house, 
 after which all that was mortal of the good 
 man was conveyed to his former country home, 
 and deposited in the old cemetery, by the side 
 of a little one who had died some years be- 
 fore. 
 
 That country town had attractions in the 
 estimation of that sorrowing family before; 
 but now is made more sacred by this last sad 
 visit. 
 
 Robert returned with the mourners to the 
 city, whence he was obliged to hurry back to 
 his studies, leaving them in the care of that 
 God, who " giveth, and who taketh away," but 
 whether in blessings or afflictions, " doeth all 
 things well," blessed be His name.
 
 266 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 The Commencement day of the institu- 
 tion had arrived, and how many associations 
 clustered around the hearts of all on that day ! 
 To the graduating class it was the day of 
 honor ; the day from which they were to date 
 the victories which they all expected to achieve 
 in the future. The Junior was to step into 
 the place just vacated, while the Sophomores 
 and the Freshmen of last year were to ad- 
 vance, to make room for the bashful new 
 comers, the laughing stock to be, of those 
 who, a year ago, were in the same position 
 themselves. Probably few political campaigns 
 or forensic efforts of the future will produce 
 in sober manhood as much excitement as the 
 honors of college to glowing youth. 
 
 Some are to commence the practice of law ; 
 and there are vacancies in well established 
 offices for them to step immediately into. 
 Some will be obliged to labor earnestly for 
 years; perhaps, before the bawble, reputation, 
 which now seems so near their grasp will be 
 theirs. Others will spend their lives in efforts 
 for the sick in body, while a few will care for 
 the souls of their fellow-men.
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 26/ 
 
 The exercises of such a day are always 
 long, and frequently somewhat tedious ; and 
 this was no exception. But when the valedic- 
 torian was announced, who, on this occasion, 
 was our young friend Robert Ashley, every 
 voice was hushed, and every eye directed to 
 the speaker. 
 
 He ascended the platform with graceful dig- 
 nity, made his bow without a^ particle of ser- 
 vility, yet with so much self-possession and 
 nobility in his demeanor that it was almost 
 unconsciously returned, with cordial politeness, 
 by every wise and reverend head upon the 
 platform ; and when his deep-toned and melo- 
 dious voice fell upon the ear, not a word was 
 lost on the eager throng. 
 
 His topic was " Fidelity." Fidelity to par- 
 ents, to benefactors, to our country and its 
 institutions ; chivalric fidelity to the ladies ; 
 and at last, to the audience generally, fidelity 
 to friends. How would the heart of his 
 sainted mother have rejoiced to see this day ! 
 What a beautiful spectacle for his father, who, 
 now in heaven, had while on earth the blessed
 
 268 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 privilege which was denied the mother, to see 
 his son a Christian ; and what a glorious 
 meeting that will be, when the sea shall give 
 up its dead, and the grave shall be opened, 
 around the great white throne to sing praises 
 to the Lamb forever and ever, an unbroken 
 family, father, mother, son ! 
 
 Who could help sympathizing with the 
 widowed mother, who would- soon hail the 
 young speaker as son, as she listened with 
 overflowing eyes to his tender expressions of 
 fidelity to the memory of lost loved ones ; and 
 Mr. Barrett, Mr. Wilder, George, and others 
 of his warm friends, when friendship was so 
 much needed, and but for which he would 
 probably have never been in this position, 
 what wonder was it if they were forced to 
 wipe away the tears which came thick and 
 fast as he referred to fidelity to benefactors ! 
 
 President and professors prophesied all that 
 was good and great from such a young man ; 
 and more than once, one fond heart beat audi- 
 bly, as the eye of the eloquent speaker met 
 hers.
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 269 
 
 The whole class, too, with whom he had 
 been a favorite, but who had ridiculed the idea 
 of weeping at a valedictory, could not resist 
 his pathetic eloquence ; and when, in conclu- 
 sion, he ended with a brief peroration on 
 fidelity to God, there was silence for a few 
 moments, and then followed deafening ap- 
 plause. 
 
 The settlement of their first year's business 
 was very satisfactory to the new firm of 
 Hutchins, Clement & Co., as well as to their 
 friends, Mr. Barrett and Mr. Wilder. 
 
 George is now twenty-three years of age, 
 and extensive preparations have been made 
 for his marriage with Mary Barrett. Again the 
 extensive rooms are brilliantly lighted, and filled 
 with a large number of their numerous friends, 
 Many were the congratulations bestowed on 
 the young and happy couple; and although 
 many meaningless compliments are always paid 
 on such occasions, those who knew them both 
 best, heartily and confidently wished them 
 happiness and prosperity ; and if happiness 
 and prosperity are the natural results of lives
 
 2/O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 of strict integrity, governed by moral prin- 
 ciple, and in the fear of God, theirs will be a 
 felicitous lot 
 
 George had frequently expressed a wish to 
 reside out of town after his marriage, but had 
 concluded not to think of it at present, as he 
 felt that he could hardly afford to purchase 
 just such a place as he would like. He had 
 looked at a pretty cottage in one of the pleas- 
 antest towns in the vicinity of Boston, which 
 was for sale, and had told Mary of it, but she 
 had wisely agreed with him that they had bet- 
 ter wait a little while, so the whole matter had 
 been dismissed, they both being perfectly satis- 
 fied that the plan was not immediately feasible. 
 But somehow it reached Mr. Barrett's ears that 
 the desire for a country residence was mutual, 
 and on the wedding night a deed of the prop- 
 erty was presented to the surprised couple 
 by Mr. Barrett, and they were in addition in- 
 formed that their house would be furnished 
 and ready for occupancy on their return from 
 the bridal tour. 
 
 Many were the rich and valuable presents
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 2/1 
 
 they received on the occasion, but none were 
 prized more highly than a beautiful copy of a 
 Family Bible, the present of Mrs. Hutchins, 
 which bore on its cover the inscription, 
 " George and Mary ; a Mother's Gift." 
 
 At the expected time the newly-wedded 
 pair returned from their journey, and arrived 
 late one evening at the beautiful house in the 
 suburbs, which was all their own. 
 
 It had been handsomely furnished through- 
 out by Mr. and Mrs. Barrett, with an eye to 
 the comfort of the occupants, and, as they en- 
 tered the house, they found everything ar- 
 ranged, and, in fact, housekeeping already 
 commenced, for Mrs. Hutchins had been there 
 before them, and would remain with them in 
 the future. Neither George or Mary would 
 have considered the circle complete without 
 her. Together they made a tour of examina- 
 tion. Every room presented some new and 
 valuable memento of thoughtfulness, and they 
 were delighted with all they saw ; and that 
 night, as they all knelt down to celebrate the 
 erection of a family altar, no happier house- 
 hold could be found anywhere.
 
 2/2 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Robert, during the year of theological study 
 he had just completed, had frequent opportu- 
 nities to preach for several destitute churches, 
 some having no ministers, some whose pastors 
 were sick, and others absent on vacations, or 
 from other causes ; but now he had concluded 
 his full course, he began to look about for a 
 permanent abiding place. 
 
 His marriage, which had been delayed until 
 he should have completed his collegiate course, 
 now took place. The couple were admirably 
 fitted for each other. Fanny was. a kind- 
 hearted girl ; one who loved to do good, and 
 was never happier than when she was engaged 
 in some plan for the relief of suffering, or in 
 rendering assistance to the sick and helpless. 
 All said of her, " She will make an excellent 
 minister's wife ;" and Mrs. Hutchins, who had 
 found in the busy city a larger field for dis- 
 pensing those charities for which she had been 
 so long and so favorably known, always relied 
 on Fanny for companionship and sympathy in 
 all her works of benevolence. 
 
 Soon after his marriage, Robert accompa-
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 2/3 
 
 nicd his wife and Mrs. Clement and Louise on 
 a visit to their former country home, a visit 
 the Clements had been in the habit of making 
 annually. 
 
 The old pastor of the church was at this 
 time confined to his room by sickness, and on 
 him Robert called, in company with Fanny, by 
 whom he was introduced : and before takinsr 
 
 ' O 
 
 their departure, the good old minister invited 
 him to occupy his pulpit on the next Sabbath. 
 It was as much of a novelty to Mrs. Clem- 
 ent and her family to hear Robert, as to the 
 good people of the town, for, although he had 
 often participated in the devotional exercises 
 of their conference meetings, they had never 
 listened to a regular sermon from his lips. 
 His sermons were deeply interesting, and so 
 satisfactory were his efforts, that both pastor 
 and people united in the request that he would 
 remain there and occupy the pulpit during the 
 illness of the minister ; ,biit, alas ! the good 
 old man was never again permitted to lift up 
 his voice to those to whom he had so long 
 ministered. He had labored long, and God 
 18
 
 2/4 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 had graciously blessed him, but he was now 
 called to his reward. 
 
 Robert continued to labor there, and in 
 course of time he was called to the permanent 
 charge of the church and society ; a call which 
 both a sense of duty and inclination prompted 
 him to reply to favorably, for he had learned to 
 love them, and he was ordained to the holy 
 work of the ministry, and installed as pastor 
 of the church. 
 
 The singular circumstances which led to his 
 connection with them as pastor, or, more cor- 
 rectly speaking, the providence of God which 
 ordered it, was somewhat of a disappointment 
 to the Bethel Church, and particularly to 
 the good old ship-chandler, in whose employ 
 Robert had been, and who had imagined and 
 hoped, as indeed had all the young man's 
 friends, that as soon as his education had been 
 finished, he would devote his talents exclu- 
 sively to the welfare of the sailor, a work for 
 which, at the time he first thought of studying 
 for the ministry he appeared most peculiarly 
 fitted, and which he himself had always im-
 
 NEW RELATIONS. 2/5 
 
 agined would be his appropriate work. But 
 God seemed to have ordered it otherwise, 
 and this way of duty being open to him, he 
 felt that he had no right to neglect it. His 
 ordination was attended by all his old 
 friends, who had now good reason indeed to 
 " praise the Lord for his goodness, and for his 
 wonderful works to the children of men." 
 
 The ceremony of installation over, Robert 
 began to make preparations for a residence, 
 and, as good fortune would have it, the old 
 Clement homestead was for sale, and about to 
 be vacated, and he being able to secure it, 
 the whole family were soon settled in their old 
 home they loved so well, the scene of so 
 much happiness. 
 
 Robert's investments, made by advice of 
 Mr. Barrett, had all proved profitable, and he 
 still permitted all of his little fortune not re- 
 quired to settle for his new purchase, to remain 
 where it had been placed under that gentle- 
 man's direction.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 
 
 T was now six years since Charles 
 Butler had voluntarily absented 
 himself from home and friends in 
 consequence of his crime. 
 
 Mr. Wilder had been in receipt of several 
 letters from him enclosing remittances, and 
 all breathing the same spirit of penitence, and 
 desire to live down his terrible error. His 
 communications, however, more frequently and 
 more despondingly alluded to his impaired 
 health. About six months since, Mr. Wilder 
 received a letter from him, dated as before, 
 from Montreal, in which he declared his in- 
 tention to accept a position offered him to go 
 to San Francisco, and take charge of a set of 
 
 276
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 2/7 
 
 books in a large mercantile house in that city. 
 He was to start immediately. Another letter 
 received later, dated from the latter city, in- 
 formed Mr. Wilder of his safe arrival, and his 
 health much improved by the sea voyage, and 
 he indulged the hope that the climate of the 
 Pacific coast would be more favorable to his 
 condition. His business connection promised 
 to be a pleasant and a profitable one ; and if his 
 strength would only be equal to his ambition, 
 he would soon be able, on his salary, to can- 
 cel all his obligations to Mr. Wilder. He 
 seemed to be aware of the additional tempta- 
 tions to which he would be subjected in that 
 wicked city, but as he adhered firmly to the 
 good resolutions he had formed in Montreal, 
 he knew all would be well. He enjoined the 
 same secrecy as to his locality for the future, 
 that had been granted him in the past, and 
 Mr. Wilder's heart was gratified to learn that 
 he was still true to his, determinations, and 
 flattered himself that he could detect some- 
 thing more of a Christian spirit in his cor- 
 respondence than he ever before observed,
 
 278 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 and symptoms of the change which both he 
 and George earnestly prayed for daily. But 
 his hopes for returning health proved futile ; 
 his cough increased, and his physician told 
 him he must leave California or die. 
 
 He had, up to this time, remitted Mr. Wilder 
 three thousand dollars, leaving a balance of 
 about two thousand dollars, including interest, 
 and it was some time before Mr. Wilder heard 
 a word from him, either directly or indirectly. 
 
 At last, one day, he received a letter from 
 the father of the young man, dated from his 
 residence in New Hampshire, announcing the 
 arrival home of Charles in the last stages of 
 consumption, and informing him that it was 
 his son's request that he might see Mr. Wilder 
 before it was too late. 
 
 True to his nature, the very next morning 
 Mr. Wilder started, and at night arrived in 
 the village at the old-fashioned tavern, the 
 only accommodation the little town offered. 
 Inquiries were made, and the services of a 
 guide obtained. Mr. Wilder was somewhat 
 prepared for the scene that awaited him ; he
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 2/9 
 
 had anticipated an interview of anguish, when 
 he contrasted the present and former relations 
 that existed between them ; that young man 
 once so promising, beloved and trusted, now 
 disgraced, and only returning within reach of 
 the arm of justice when to exercise physical 
 force to aid that justice, would be inhuman. 
 He had fancied something of the agony which 
 would take possession of the young man when 
 they should be brought face to face, the be- 
 trayed and the betrayer. But he was not 
 prepared to see the alteration that disease had 
 made in its victim. 
 
 He found him terribly emaciated, and with 
 nearly every attempt to speak a coughing fit 
 would interrupt, which left him so weak that 
 he would be obliged to lie quiet for some time 
 before he was able to articulate audibly. If 
 Mr. Wilder had ever felt any inclination to 
 bring the criminal to the punishment his 
 offence would have received, it lost its exist- 
 ence now. He had, hpwever, never borne any 
 ill will towards him ; he had loved him too 
 much ever to have desired to harm him, and
 
 28O THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 had he voluntarily returned in hcailh, even if 
 he had never received a dollar of restitution, 
 he would have lost a limb rather than to have 
 hurt a hair of his head. 
 
 Mr. Wilder took the thin, wasted hand of 
 the sick man, and bade him be quiet for a few 
 moments, until the excitement consequent 
 upon his arrival should have subsided in a 
 degree ; and even then, when he had become 
 comparatively calm, he was not permitted to 
 allude to the crime of which he had been 
 guilty, and the memory of which weighed so 
 heavily on his conscience. Mr. Wilder, as 
 best he could, endeavored to cheer him, but 
 there was nothing to warrant such a course. 
 The inevitable proximity to death, with guilt 
 not yet fully atoned for, the anguish into which 
 the parents and rest of the family had been 
 thrown by his sudden and unlooked-for re- 
 turn, and by the presence of the benefactor 
 of their son, who "had been grossly wronged 
 by that son, all afforded, but little ground for 
 a hope that it would be possible to enliven the 
 sufferer or his broken-hearted friends. The
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 28 1 
 
 only allusion to the subject of his former of- 
 fence that Mr. Wilder would permit, he made 
 himself, in the presence of the whole family. 
 
 " Charles, after what little I have to say, I do 
 not wish the old subject to be referred to again. 
 " I have received your letters, all breathing 
 as much of sorrow and penitence as any one 
 could desire. You are forgiven, from my heart 
 forgiven. I have written you so ; I now tell 
 you so in the presence of these witnesses, 
 your kind, loving, sorrowing friends. If I 
 know my own heart, I tell you in all sincerity, 
 that I entertain no feeling towards you but that 
 of love and regard ; and my earnest prayer is 
 that you may, if it please God, be spared many 
 years to prove to the world, what I implicitly 
 believe, that your repentance is heartfelt, and 
 that you may be brought to the foot of the 
 cross. Now, I want to see what can be done 
 for your body, and then I shall want (by and 
 by) a conversation with you, Charles, to know 
 how it is with your soul." 
 
 The kindness of heart and Christian for- 
 giveness evinced by the good man melted the
 
 282 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 hearts of all, and silence, broken only by sobs, 
 continued for several moments. 
 
 At last, turning to the parents, Mr. Wilder 
 inquired if any physician had been consulted 
 since the sick man had returned ; and was in- 
 formed that their own family doctor had vis- 
 ited him, and pronounced his case a hopeless 
 one. He might live weeks, and he was liable 
 to die soon ; but that nothing could be done 
 except to make the patient as comfortable as 
 possible. 
 
 Finding from a personal observation that 
 no medical skill was able to effect a recovery, 
 and noticing that the family were so confident 
 of the ability of their own physician in the 
 matter, Mr. Wilder made no effort to secure 
 the attendance of any other ; in fact, it was 
 apparent to every one that the sick man was 
 near his end. 
 
 One by one the members of the family 
 sought their respective couches for the night, 
 and at last Charles, his parents, and Mr. 
 Wilder were left alone. 
 
 It had been arranged for his mother to sit
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 283 
 
 up with him that night, but for more than one 
 reason, Mr. Wilder desired to remain with 
 him, and so expressed himself. The old lady 
 strongly objected, but upon Mr. Wilder prom- 
 ising to call her if occasion should require, 
 and as there was no particular necessity for 
 wakefulness on the part of any 6*ne, for he 
 was taking no medicine except drops for hrs 
 cough once in a v few hours, the parents yielded, 
 and retired, leaving the two alone, giving Mr. 
 Wilder an opportunity he had long desired, of 
 private conversation. 
 
 Charles Butler had enjoyed, in early days, 
 the advantages of Christian instruction, both 
 at home and at the Sabbath school and 
 church ; and although in subsequent life he 
 had been tempted and yielded, and although 
 he thought he was happy in the gay and 
 dissipated company in which he spent the 
 hours he was absent from the store, yet in his 
 sober," calm moments conscience was at work, 
 and his sufferings at, the thought of home, his 
 pious mother and her instructions were in- 
 tense, and he would drink deeper of the cup
 
 284 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 of pleasure to drown his sorrow ; and when 
 he was led on, step by step, till he committed 
 his first error in appropriating some of his 
 employer's funds, even then he stopped and 
 tried to retrace his steps, but found it too late. 
 And one crime led to another, until detection 
 and disgrace ended the scene. But after all 
 had been done, and he found himself an exile 
 from home, compelled to remain among stran- 
 gers, and under a foreign flag to insure freedom, 
 he began to think of the uniform kindness 
 of the man to whom he had proved so treach- 
 erous, and to see that nothing but religion 
 would have prompted him in the discovery 
 of this system of embezzlement, to have ex- 
 hibited such Christian love and forbearance. 
 He began to think of that God he had so 
 long forgotten and sinned against ; and this 
 line of meditation continued until he appealed 
 to Heaven for forgiveness, not only for the 
 crime for which he was an alien, but for 
 others, many and serious, of which none but 
 himself and his God were cognizant ; and 
 he trusted he had been forgiven. He had
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 285 
 
 never alluded to his trust in a Saviour in his 
 letters, because he disliked to write anything 
 which under the peculiar circumstances of the 
 case would appear like hypocrisy ; but he had 
 tried to live a Christian life ever since his first 
 letter informed Mr. Wilder of his contrition. 
 
 That Mr. Wilder was rejoiced at the in- 
 formation he received that night, is not sur- 
 prising ; and he arose from his chair and knelt 
 at the bedside, and thanked God for the 
 change for the state of mind in which he 
 found the young man ; and prayed that, if it 
 could please God, the health of the suf- 
 ferer might be restored ; but if not, that when 
 the hour should come to exchange worlds, 
 the grace which was now shed abroad in 
 his heart, might be bestowed yet more abun- 
 dantly ; that he might feel fully prepared, and 
 not only prepared, but willing and anxious to 
 " depart and be with Christ, which is far better." 
 The parents and friends of Charles had 
 known of the moral change which had taken 
 place in him during his stay in Canada, but 
 they had not been informed that he cherished
 
 286 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 a hope that he had been born again ; and the 
 excitement attending his recent return, and 
 the weakness of his hope, accompanied by his 
 modesty on this subject, which in itself was 
 a very strong indication of the genuineness 
 of the change (for modesty had been no 
 marked attribute of his heretofore), had pre- 
 sented no favorable opportunity for a full 
 statement of the working of his heart until 
 this night. 
 
 It was a delightful report Mr. Wilder had 
 to make to them in the morning, and joy at 
 the knowledge of it seemed for a moment to 
 obscure the terrible fact that his end was fast 
 approaching. 
 
 At their request, and the urgent solicitation 
 of Charles himself, who begged him to remain 
 with him till the last, Mr. Wilder consented 
 to remain a few days in their midst ; and he 
 returned to the hotel to make the necessary 
 arrangements for his stay, and to notify, by 
 mail, his family and George of the glorious 
 news he had just heard, and which had made 
 his sleepless night so delightful.
 
 REPENTANCE AND DEATH OF AN ENEMY. 28/ 
 
 He was not called upon to wait long, for 
 Charles continued to grow feebler and feebler 
 daily, and it was a consolation to observe, 
 as his strength failed, and his hold on earth 
 grew less and less tenacious, that his faith in 
 God increased, and he took a firmer and 
 firmer hold on heaven. 
 
 He wasted away, unable to converse much 
 (although he retained his consciousness to the 
 very last), and just a week from the day Mr. 
 Wilder came to see him, his summons came, 
 and the ransomed spirit of Charles Butler was 
 wafted to the presence of its Maker, leaving 
 no doubt on the minds of all who were with 
 him in his last moments that God had taken 
 the penitent sufferer home. 
 
 How solacing to those left to mourn was 
 the reflection which now supported them in 
 this bitter hour, that his crimes had all been 
 washed away by a Saviour's blood, and that 
 of him it might be said that he had joined 
 that glad throng who had come " out of great 
 tribulation, and had washed their robes, and 
 made them white in the blood of the Lamb ! "
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 ENRY CLEMENT (whom we have 
 quite neglected in our interest in 
 his old friends, George Hutchins 
 and Robert Ashley), after his sister's marriage, 
 and the removal of the family to the country, 
 having lost his home, was obliged to seek out 
 for himself a new residence. This he found no 
 easy matter, for he had always been somewhat 
 fastidious in his tastes ; and now he was in a 
 lucrative business, he had the means at his 
 disposal to gratify his desires. 
 
 One day, while in quest of a boarding-place, 
 
 he happened to be passing through F 
 
 Street, and noticed the familiar house of Mrs. 
 Rice. It had been a long time since he had 
 
 288
 
 CONCLUSION. 289 
 
 seen or heard anything of her, or any of her 
 family, and he concluded to make a call. 
 
 Mrs. Rice had kept a boarding-house ever 
 since the death of her husband, many years 
 before, and had by economy been able, using 
 her favorite expression, to " lay up something 
 for a rainy day," and, having worked hard 
 during all her best days, Henry was not sur- 
 prised when she told him that she had saved 
 money enough to give up keeping boarders, 
 and was about to move into a smaller house, 
 where she could have more rest. Her son 
 Joseph, whom we once knew slightly, and who, 
 together with his mother, was led to seek the 
 Saviour through the instrumentality of Robert, 
 was now the captain of a fine brig. He was 
 a Christian man, an honor to his religious pro- 
 fession, and his ship a floating Bethel. A good 
 man, a captain, who belonged to the same 
 Bethel church, had taken an interest in him, 
 and under his protection and tuition Joseph 
 had been able to fit himself to be an officer, 
 had been three or four voyages as- mate, and 
 was now on his second trip as master in the 
 West India trade. 19
 
 2QO THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 Mrs. Rice was hurrying to furnish her new 
 house for immediate occupancy for the recep- 
 tion of Joseph, who would, on his return from 
 sea, bring to it a wife. 
 
 Henry made inquiries about the young men 
 who were* boarders when he was there, and 
 received the delightful intelligence that nearly 
 all of them had given good evidence of a 
 change of heart ; and it was all attributed to 
 George's influence, the alteration they had 
 observed in Robert, and the Christian ex- 
 ample that had been set by both these young 
 men. 
 
 Henry found it no easy task to obtain a 
 boarding-place to his mind ; and one evening, 
 while making a call on the Wilders, for he was 
 a constant visitor there, he mentioned that 
 he was very lonely now all his friends had 
 moved away from the city, and that he disliked 
 extremely the hotel life he was now enduring, 
 the bustle and excitement being far from con- 
 genial to his disposition. Mrs. Wilder ob- 
 served this, and remarked to her husband, 
 " Would it not be pleasant for us all to have
 
 CONCLUSION. 291 
 
 Henry with us ? " Her husband immediately 
 conceded that it would ; while Henry, if he 
 had entertained any doubts of the project be- 
 ing an agreeable one, had them dispelled in the 
 glance of approval bestowed on him by Ella, 
 who looked up from her crotchet work just 
 long enough, and with just expression enough 
 to prompt him to say at once, 
 
 " I should like that of all things else. I 
 cannot endure- being among strangers so 
 much ; and at a public house the society is 
 not agreeable to me." 
 
 The change was at once made ; but it led 
 to another soon, for the young people before 
 many months, concluded, with their parents' 
 consent and approval, to set up housekeeping 
 on their own account, so in losing a boarder, a 
 son-in-law was gained. 
 
 The firm of Hutchins, Clement & Co. is 
 still in existence, engaged in a large and very 
 profitable business, to which they devote their 
 time and apply their talents, not to make 
 money to hoard it, but that with it they may 
 do good. Strictly honest in all their transac?
 
 2Q2 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 tions, they have won the respect and esteem 
 of all with whom they are in any way con- 
 nected, while no one, be he friend or foe to 
 religion, fails to observe that there is some- 
 thing more than policy aiding them in their 
 worldly affairs, and it is a common expression 
 to hear made of them, that " their word is as 
 good as their bond." 
 
 They are both earnest laborers in the church 
 of God ; and George has been, for some years, 
 the superintendent of the Sabbath school coti- 
 nected with the church of which he and his 
 family are members, in the flourishing village 
 near Boston, where we saw them so pleasantly 
 settled a few years since. 
 
 Young Mrs. Hutchins accompanies her 
 husband in his frequent errands of mercy, 
 and is as much interested in private charities, 
 and the more public benevolences of the day, 
 as was George's mother in her palmy days, 
 and acts in her stead now in dispensing with a 
 liberal hand those gifts which Mother Hutch- 
 ins's advanced age compels her to delegate 
 another to do ; while the old lady, full of years,
 
 CONCLUSION. 293 
 
 but still in good general health, rarely leaves 
 home, but seems to be living her early mater- 
 nal days over again, as she aids in the educa- 
 tion of her little grandson, Georgie Barrett 
 Hutchins, whom she declares " the image of 
 his father." Long may the evening of her 
 well-spent life be prolonged, that she may con- 
 tinue to enjoy the happiness she so well de- 
 serves. 
 
 Rev. Robert Ashley is an efficient and suc- 
 cessful minister of God ; and although there 
 were many at first in his society who con- 
 sidered him too young and inexperienced to 
 assume charge of a church so long blessed 
 with the counsels of a more mature mind, he 
 enjoys now, to a remarkable degree, the confi- 
 dence and devotion of his people. 
 
 His labors have been blessed by frequent 
 revivals of God's grace, those unmistakable 
 indications of divine favor, and his whole' 
 heart is in his work. He is as deeply inter- 
 ested in the conversion of the sailor as ever, 
 and his voice is often heard in presenting 
 their claims, both in his own pulpit and at his
 
 294 THE BOSTON BOY. 
 
 old religious home at the Bethel, where he is 
 always welcome, and where there are many 
 who date their conviction, and subsequent 
 conversion, to something he has said or done. 
 
 The old Clement house (now the parson- 
 age), is looking finely, having been improved 
 and put in complete repair, and the minister 
 and his wife have with them still, Mrs. Clement 
 and Louise, all enjoying good health, and what 
 is better than everything else, all walking close 
 with God. 
 
 The parsonage is the frequent resort of the 
 young people of the society, with whom their 
 pastor is deservedly popular, and who is deeply 
 interested in everything appertaining to their 
 moral and mental improvement, at the same 
 time never forgetting the all-important subject 
 of the welfare of their souls. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Barrett and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wilder are still living in the enjoyment of all 
 the blessings and happiness so sure to follow 
 lives so well spent Time has dealt gently 
 with them, and they are as active and ener- 
 getic in the fulfilment of duty, as ardent sym-
 
 CONCLUSION. 295 
 
 pathizers with, and as liberal patrons of, every 
 effort to relieve poverty and distress as ever ; 
 and many a poor widow and orphan have rea- 
 son to thank God for their acquaintance ; 
 while in the record above are placed to their 
 credit many a good deed, which no tongue on 
 earth lives to proclaim, or pencil has ever 
 traced. 
 
 Vice has its allurements and remorseful re- 
 sults to-day, as well as during the lifetime of 
 Charles Butler ; and virtue its reward in the 
 inward peace it always brings, even if it be 
 not signally compensated, as it was in the 
 cases of George Hutchins and Henry Clem- 
 ent ; while the reformation of Robert Ashley, 
 who was once so unpromising, but now so 
 worthy a Christian, is an exhibition of what 
 religion will do for all who will accept the free 
 terms on which it is granted. 
 
 That each and every one of my readers may 
 take example by whatever of good has been 
 seen in any of the characters to whom we now 
 say farewell, and endeavor to emulate their 
 virtues, is the hearfelt desire of the Author.
 
 A 000605567 7