"How these beggarly upstarts are coming up!" he said to himself, bitterly. "It makes me sick."
But a heavier blow was in store for him. Dull times came in business, retail trade fell off, and one morning it was announced in the papers that the great house of Ezra Little had suspended.
Mr. Little made desperate efforts to secure financial assistance, but in vain. No one liked him, and it looked as if he was irretrievably ruined.
When things looked darkest, a plain-looking old man entered the store, and asked to see Mr. Little.
"Seth Lawton!" exclaimed the merchant. "I can't see you. I am very busy."
"I hear you are in trouble," said Cousin Seth.
"And I suppose you are glad of it," replied Ezra, bitterly.
"No, I have come to help you," responded Mr. Lawton.
"You help me!" repeated Ezra, scornfully. "What good will a few hundred dollars do?"
"How much help do you need?"