sacrilegiously with their dear child as to paste a few flashing ornaments upon her, worthless as dead fish-scales, and swear she was covered with pearls. Honest and loving sponsors! virtuous, confiding parents! they were ready to promise for Columbia; she went from their hands a pure, industrious, obedient girl, only fourteen; they were sure she would take pride in making good all deficiencies of her past education. And the woman promised in turn,—chiefly thinking, I infer, that here at least were responsible paymasters. Why not? She taught for a living. Only we never like to suppose that poets sing merely for money, or that kings reign for the sake of the crown; we do not imagine a statesman delights in his martyrdom for eight dollars a day. I know one woman who teaches because it is her vocation; she loves the work God allows her. But even the worst school that's used as a hot-bed could not have ruined a plant like this bearing the Dexter label.
Thus this great fact of the flag-makers' married life transpired,—their child went to school with the children of gentlemen. Dexter could tell that figure among dozens of girls; under one modest bonnet was a young face with brown eyes and brown hair, a fair, sweet countenance, which he loved with a love we will not dwell upon. In the sacred narrative, as in the sacred temple, is always a place hid from the eyes and the feet of the congregation. We may be all Gentiles here.
Like responsible sentinels, Dexter and Jessie stood at their post. Like debtors to the great universe, they made their calling sure. They were living thus peacefully while nations went to war, while panics taught the people it was not beneath their wisdom to look to the foundations they built their pride upon,—thus, while great world-events were going on that must concern every soul under the whole heaven. But never shall the man be lost in the multitude; and was it not, is it not, of incalculable importance that mortals by their own firesides should learn to believe in peace and good-will,—else how shall come the universal harmony?
Therefore I dwell thus on Dexter's humble fortunes. Let us not fear too much reverence, too patient observation; every living creature is one other evidence, speaking his yea or nay,—by joy or sorrow, shame or honor, testifying to the eternal laws of God.
Sometime during the last six months of Columbia's second year at the seminary among the books and new associates, Silas Swift had some strange secret experiences, which came to their inevitable expression when he told Mr. Dexter that he must leave his service. He perceived, he said, that he could not spend life in a shop,—he must have other employment. He hinted about the sea, but on that subject was not clear; but he was clear in this,—tired of his life, sick, and knew not the physician. Was a serpent distilling poison under the apricot-tree?
Dexter was amazed. Silas anticipated everything he said,—was prepared to answer all; and he answered in a manner that showed the flag-maker something instant and effective must be done. He talked the matter over accordingly with Andrew Swift, and the two men were at their wits' end; they did not understand, and knew not what to prescribe for the case, so desperate it seemed. But Jessie said, "Take him in for a partner, Silas. Let him stand for Company. You and I are one; so the sign, as it goes, is a fib, you know."
The two men looked at Jessie as if she had been an oracle. This very promotion of their son had long seemed to Swift and his wife the most desirable issue, of all their expectations; but they had not thought to look for it these many years. However, Andrew was ready to pay down, any day, whatever sum Silas Dexter should specify in order that his son might be admitted to equal partnership.
So they waited together till young Swift came into the little room back of the shop, where they were all looking for
