"You have done what was right; you can't think He will do less."
"That's a fact; and now I expect my last trouble is over."
"But it has taken almost all your money," hesitatingly replied the
minister.
"Well, that's the least of my concerns, Mr. Goodyear," smiled 'Tenty.
"I'm spared my hands yet, and I sha'n't want for nothing while they
last. When I get helpless, I expect the Lord will take care of me. I
sha'n't worry about it till it comes."
"That is philosophy, certainly," said Mr. Goodyear.
"I don't know as it's that; but I guess it's six of common-sense and
half-a-dozen of religion; I always thought they was near about the same
thing. Fact is, people don't die of troubles in this world; they die of
frettin' at 'em, only they don't seem to know it."
"According to that rule, you won't die this long time, Miss 'Tenty,"
said the minister, unable to resist a smile.
"Well, I don't know, Sir. I guess I shall live as long as I want to; and
I expect I shall die content. I a'n't troubled."
"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth," murmured Mr.
Goodyear, as he walked away.
* * * * *
RECOLLECTIONS OF IRVING.
BY HIS PUBLISHER.
You are aware that one of the most interesting reunions of men connected
with literary pursuits in England is at the annual dinner of the
"Literary Fund,"--the management of which has been so often dissected of
late by Dickens and others.
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