The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-07-13

m heard in the bar room, does not make the creditor easy for be knows that these and kindred resorts have exhausted the pecuniary resources of many trader.
 merchant prince of Boston, whose death was deeply mourned, few years since, had no money capital at twenty-one, with which to ct up busi- ness for himself; and his salary was less than i've hundred dollars But an acquaintance had watched his course with peculiar interest admiring his intellectual and moral character, 90 high, strong and consistent. Becoming heir to ten thousand dollars by the death of . relative, he resolved to engage In business for himself He must have . partner, and there was only one person to whom he turned with oonhdence-the young man of whom we have just spoken "I will put my money against your character" he said. The modest young man suspected him of joking at first, and replied accordingly.
 "You do not understand me-" he added "I mean what say. You have no money, but you have what is better than money-character and consid- erable experience. It is only fair that should put my money against these, and wish to do it." The partnership was consummated, and 1t proved harmonious and successful "The character Of the young leather merchant was worth more to the concern than the ten thousand dollars of his con- hding friend. It gave the firm standing at once. Its value grew, also, from year to year, giving the company Q frmer grip upon public confidence. He who had only character to invest found him. self in . few years, among the leading of the city, not only of its merchant princes, but one Of it's counseors, officers and benefactors The ten thousand dollars of money invested In the outset had been long forgotten, but the character which the young man put in had grown fAirer, richer and more influential.
 Smiles says: "Character Is one of the greatest motive powers in the world. In It's noblest embodiments, 1t exempli6es human nature in It's highest forms for 1t exhibits man at his best" Little Joe.
 MrA Charles. in Home and Farm.
 In the great city Of London, where 90 much good and evil, of sorrow and joy, meets our Great Fathers eye every day, there lived poor little father or mother, no home or friends, had little Joe. I suppose he had no idea of the meaning of any of these words. But he knew right from wrong, and was an honest, industrious little lad
 He performed his work faithfully every day. received gratefully the few pennies that were dropped him by the hurrying crowd, and invested them In the pitiful bit of bread and cheese that kept him alive. At night he crept under some friendly steps for shelter, and slept his innocent pitiful sleep until another days work began A sad and most distressing lie little Joe's, and his body naturally frail, gradually began to fail, that each day he seemed to feel less able to ply his stubby old broom. One morning as little Joe crept at early dawn from his miserable bed, he saw a very suspicious sight across the way and bad sight 1t was for little Joe The grounds oppo- site Joes crossing were owned by wealthy gentleman. They were inclosed by a beautiful iron paling, and Joe often looked yearningly at the happy and gay people who passed in and out of that grand gateway. Now there was a small close carriage drawn up at that gate, and two men dragged . stiff, pale body through 1t and tumbled 1t hurriedly into the carriage; then the door was slammed and the carriage with its strange occu- pants was driven rapidly away. Joe halted in surprise What could this mean? Surely that was dead man they tumbled into that cArriAgel Just then . servant appeared at the great gate, and seeing Joe, he crossed over to him and asked: "Did you sec carriage leave that gate just nowl" "Yea " said Joe "Then you leave this crossing at once and go to the other side of the city e fast as you can, and be sure you're never seen here again "Oh," said Joe, "I can't do that. ain't never swept no crossn' but this in my life" "Move on [" said the man, "move on!" Poor Joel he had never known before the sorrow of leaving home.