He was as ill-looking a dog as I had ever laid eyes on, and his appearance was in strange contrast with that of his benevolent patron. The latter was a tall and rawboned man of fifty, with an uncommonly prepossessing visage; rather lantern-jawed, perhaps, but handsome and good-natured. The other was a slouch of a fellow, short of stature, but full of fat and brawn, with bow legs, gibbon arms, and a hang-dog visage. He sidled up to the fire hesitatingly, and, indeed, with an air of shame and humility; while the philanthropist, laying his watch upon the table, extended his hand towards him.
"Be of good heart, friend John," he said; "I come, not to reproach thee for thy misdeeds, but to counsel thee how thou shalt amend them, and restore thyself again to the society of the virtuous."
"'Es, sir," grumbled John Smith, dodging his head in humble acknowledgment, rubbing his hands for warmth over the fire, and casting a sidelong look at his benefactor. "Werry good of you, sir; shall ever be beholden. Werry hard times for one what's been in the penitentiary—takes away all one's repurtation; and, Lord bless us, sir, a man's but a ruined man when a man hasn't no repurtation."
And with that worthy John drew his sleeve over his nose, which convinced me he was not so much of a rascal as I thought him.
"John, thou hast been but as a sinner and a foolish man."
"'Es, sir," said John, with another rub of his sleeve at his nose; "but hard times makes hard work of a poor man. Always hoped to mend and be wirtuous; but, Lord bless us, Mr. Longstraw (beg pardon—can't think of making so free to say friend to such a great gentleman), one can't be wirtuous with nothing to live on."
"Verily, thou speakest, in a measure, the truth," said my friend; "and I intend thou shalt now be put in some way of earning an honest livelihood."
"'Es, sir," said John; "and sure I shall be werry much beholden."
But it is not my intention to record the conversation of the worthy pair. I am writing a history of myself, and not of other people; and I therefore think it proper to pursue no discourses in which I did not myself bear a part. It is sufficient to say, that my deliverer said a thousand excellent things in the way of counsel, which the other received very well, and many indicative of a disposition to be charitable, which Mr. John Smith received still better; and in the end, to relieve the pressing wants of the sufferer, which Mr. John Smith feelingly represented, drew forth a pocketbook, and took therefrom a silver dollar; at the sight of which, I thought, Mr. John Smith looked a little disappointed. Nay, it struck me that the appearance of the pocketbook, ancient and ill-looking as it was, had captivated his imagination in a greater degree than the coin. I had before observed him steal several affectionate looks towards the gold watch lying on the table, which now, however, the sight of the well-thumbed wallet seemed to have driven from his thoughts entirely. Nevertheless, he received the silver dollar with many thanks, and with still more the assurance that the philanthropist would procure him employment on the morrow; and Mr. Longstraw's eyes, as he turned to beckon me from the corner, began to twinkle with the delight of self-approbation.
I was myself beginning to feel a sentiment of pleasure, and to picture to my mind the unfortunate felon, converted, by a few words of counsel, and still fewer dollars of charity, into an honest and worthy member of society, when—oh horror of horrors!—the repenting convict suddenly snatched up a brand from the fire, and discharged it, with a violence that would have felled an ox, full upon the head of his patron.