“Luke, I feel rich,” said he, when his faithful friend came round for a chat.
“You’ve done better than I have,” rejoined Luke. “The most I have been able to scrape together is four hundred dollars.”
“I will give you a part of my money, so that we may be even.”
“No, you won’t, Ernest. What do you take me for?”
“Mr. Ames has been very liberal, and that is why I have got so much. I don’t feel that I ought to have so much more than you.”
“Don’t bother about me, lad; I feel rich with four hundred dollars. I never was worth so much before, though I’m almost three times your age. And I wouldn’t have that but for you.”
“How do you make that out, Luke?”
“Because I never had any ambition till I met you. I never thought of saving money; as long as I got enough to eat I cared for nothing else. I should have died without enough to bury me if you had not set me the example of putting something by for a rainy day.”
“I am glad if I have done you any good, Luke, for you have been a kind friend to me.”
A week later Luke came into the store, holding a letter in his hand.