“Yes,” assented “Cobbler” Horn, with emphasis; “if I thought otherwise, every coin of the money that I handled would scorch my fingers to the bone.”
After this there was a brief silence, and the minister sat back in his chair, with closed eyes, smiling gently.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, in another moment, starting forward, “I have been thinking of all the good that might be done, if every rich man were like you. But you came to ask my advice?”
“Yes, sir,” replied “Cobbler” Horn; “and I am keeping you too long.”
“Not at all, my dear sir! Your visit has refreshed me greatly. Your talk is like a cool breeze on a hot day. It is not often that a millionaire comes to discuss with me the responsibilities of wealth. But let me hear what the peculiar difficulty is of which you spoke.”
“Well, sir, there is a serious inconvenience involved in my new position, with which I am quite unable to grapple.”
“Ah,” said the minister, raising his eye-brows, “what is that?”
“Why it is just the number of letters I receive.”
“Of course!” cried the minister, with twinkling eyes. “The birds of prey will be upon you from every side; and your being a religious man will, by no means, mitigate the evil.”
“Ah, I have no doubt you are right, sir! And it’s a sort of compliment to religion, isn’t it?”