170 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
Hods' Corner. 
THE BOY WHO KEPT HIS PURPOSE. 
The following interesting story we have seen 
in several exchanges, and do not know where it 
first appeared. We suppose by the signature, 
that it is from the pen of Anne IIorE, the writer 
of the beautiful article in our last number on 
the sorrow of a “Sad Iron.” 
“I would not be so mean,” said George Ward 
to a boy, who stood by, while he put the candy 
he had just bought in his pocket. 
“You have no right to call me mean,” replied 
Reuben Porter, “ because I don’t spend iny 
money for candy.” 
“ You never spend it for any thing,” contin¬ 
ued George tauntingly. 
It was true. Reuben did not spend his money. 
Do you suppose it was because he loved it more 
than other boys do ? 
Reuben turned slowly away, meditating upon 
what had occurred. “I wall not care for what 
George thinks,” he at length said to himself, 
“ I have four dollars now, and when I have sold 
my cabbages, I shall have another dollar. I 
shall soon have enough ,” and his heart bounded 
joyfully, his step recovered its elasticity, and 
his pace quickened, as the pleasant thought re¬ 
moved the sting the accusation of meanness had 
inflicted on his sensitive spirit. Enough did 
not mean the same with Reuben, as with grown 
people. It had a limit. lie hastened cheer¬ 
fully home, or to the place he called home. He 
had no father or mother there, but kind and 
loving friends in their stead. Mr. Porter had 
died two years before, leaving a wife and four 
children without property to sustain them. 
Reuben was the eldest, and as he was old enough 
to assist in the labors of a farm, it was thought 
best he should leave his mother. Mr. Johnson, 
a neighbor, took him into his family, where he 
soon became a great favorite. 
There was one thing about the boy, however, 
which good Mrs. Johnson regarded as a great 
fault. It was what she called “ a spirit of hoard¬ 
ing.” She said she never gave him an orange, 
or an apple, that he did not carry it to his room, 
instead of eating it. Perhaps his sisters at 
home, or dear little brother Benny could tell 
what became of them. 
Mrs. Johnson had noticed, too, in his drawer, 
a box, which was quite heavy with money. She 
did not believe he had bought so much as a fish¬ 
hook, since he had been in their family. If he 
should go on in this way he will grow up to be 
a miser. Mr. Johnson smiled at his wife’s ear¬ 
nestness, and remarked, that with such an ex¬ 
ample of generosity as Reuben had constantly 
before him, he could not believe the child was 
in much danger from the fault she feared. “ It 
must be remembered,” he said, “ that Reuben 
has his own way to make in life. He must 
early learn to save, or he will always be poor. 
There are his mother and sisters, too, who need 
his aid.” 
In various ways Reuben added to his store. 
When the snow came, he made nice broad paths 
about the house, which so attracted the notice 
of a neighbor, that she asked if he might be al¬ 
lowed to make paths for her. He rose early 
that he might have time for his extra work, and 
was well paid for his efforts. The box grew 
heavier from week to week. Reiihen had almost 
enough. 
One day there was a barrel of flour left at 
Mrs. Porter’s. She thought there must be a 
mistake about it; but the man said he was di¬ 
rected at the store to take it to that house. 
Mrs. Porter went immediately to learn about it, 
and what was her surprise on finding her son 
had been the purchaser. How could he pay 
for a whole barrel of flour? “The money,” said 
the merchant, “he brought in a box. It was 
in small bits, which took me some time to count, 
but there was enough,” 
The mother called, with a full heart, at Mrs. 
Johnson’s, and related what had occurred. 
Reuben wondered why his mother should cry 
so. He thought she would be happy. He was 
sure he was. He had been thinking two years 
of that barrel of Hour, and now lie felt more like 
laughing than crying. Those tears, noble boy, 
are not tears of sorrow, but of the deepest, full¬ 
est joy. You are more than repaid for your 
self-denial. You have persevered in your de¬ 
termination; you have resisted every tempta¬ 
tion to deviate from the course which you 
marked out as right. You have borne meekly 
the charge of meanness so galling to your gen¬ 
erous spirit, and now you receive your reward. 
You are happy, and so is your mother, and so 
are your kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. 
That night, Mr. Johnson remarked to his 
wife, as they sat together before the cheerful 
fire, that he had some idea of keeping the little 
miser and educating him. “A boy who could 
form such a purpose, and keep it, will in all 
probability make a useful man.” After years 
proved the correctness of this conclusion. Reu¬ 
ben is now a nian of intelligence and wealth. 
He is one whom the world delights to honor; 
but among his pleasantest memories, I doubt 
not, is that of the barrel of flour he bought for 
his beloved mother. 
“Filial love will never go unrewarded.” 
Anne H. 
Scrap-look. 
GEN. JACKSON AND THE CLERK. 
Many of our readers will recognize the point 
of the following joke, which we heard related 
“ long time ago,” but which we never saw in 
print. 
While General Jackson was President of the 
United States, he was tormented day after day 
by importunate visitors, (as most Chief Magis¬ 
trates of this “ great country” are,) whom he 
did not care to see—and in consequence gave 
strict directions to the messenger at the door, 
to admit onlj' certain persons on a particular 
day, when he was more busy with State affairs 
than usual. 
In spite of the peremptory orders, however, 
the attendant bolted into his apartment during 
the afternoon, and informed the General that a 
person was outside whom he could not control, 
and who claimed to see him—orders or no or¬ 
ders. 
“ I won’t submit to this annoyance,” ex¬ 
claimed the old gentleman, nervously. “ Who 
is it?” 
“ Don’t know sir.” 
“ Don’t know ! What is his name?” 
''His name ? Beg pardon sir—it’s a woman.” 
“A woman! Show her in, James; show her 
in,” said-the President, wiping his face, and the 
next moment there entered the General’s apart¬ 
ment a neatly-clad female, of past the middle 
age, who advanced courteously towards the old 
gentleman, and accepted the chair proffered to 
her. 
“ Be seated, madam,” he said. 
“Thank you,” responded the lady, throwing 
aside her veil, and revealing a handsome face to 
her entertainer. 
“ My mission hither to-day, General,” con¬ 
tinued the fair speaker, “is a novel one, and 
you can aid me perhaps.” 
“ Madam,” said the General, “ command 
me.” 
“You are very kind, sir. I am a poor wo¬ 
man, General,-” 
“ Poverty is no crime, madam.” 
“No, sir, but I have a little family to care for 
•—I am a widow, sir; and the clerk employed 
in one of the departments of your adminis¬ 
tration, is indebted to me for board, to a 
considerable amount, which I cannot collect. 
I need the money sadly, and come to ask if a 
portion of his pay cannot be stopped, from time 
to time, until this claim of mine—an honest 
one General—of which he had the full value, 
shall be cancelled.” 
“ I really—Madam—that is, I have no con¬ 
trol that way. What is the amount of the 
bill ?” 
“ Seventy dollars, sir—here it is.” 
“Exactly—I see. And his salary, Madam?” 
“ It is said to be twelve hundred dollar's a 
year.” 
“And not pay his board bill ?” 
“As you see sir, this has been standing for 
five months unpaid. Three days hence, he will 
draw his monthly pay, and I thought, sir, if 
you would be kind enough to-” 
“ Yes, I have it. Go to him again and get his 
note, to-dajq at thirty days.” 
“ His note sir! It would’nt be worth the pa¬ 
per on which it was written; he pays no one a 
dollar voluntarily.” 
“ But he will give you his note—will he not, 
Madam ?” 
“ 0 yes, he would be glad to have a respite 
that way, for a month no doubt.” 
“ That’s right, then. Go to him and obtain 
his note, at thirty days from to-day ; give him a 
receipt in full, and come to me this evening. 
The lady departed, called upon the young 
lark, and dunned him for the amount—at which 
he only smiled—and finally asked him to give 
her his note for it. 
“ To be sure,” said he, with a chuckle “ give 
a note—sart’n —and much good may it do you 
mum.” 
“You’ll pay it when it falls due, won’t you?” 
said the lady. 
“ 0, certainly,” was the reply. And in the 
evening she again repaired to the White House 
with the note. The President put his broad 
endorsement on the back, and directed her to 
obtain the cash upon it at the bank. 
In due time a notice was sent to the Clerk that 
a note signed by him will be due on a particular 
day, which he was requested to pay. 
At first John could not conceive the source 
from whence the demand could come, and sup¬ 
posing that it had only been left for collection, 
was half resolved to take no notice of it. But as 
he passed down the avenue, the unpaid board 
bill suddenly entered his head. 
Who has been foolish enough to help the old 
woman in this business, I wonder?” said John to 
hinjself “ I’ll go and see. It’s a hum, I know; but 
I’d like to know if she’s really fooled any body 
with that bit of paper!”and entering the bank, 
he asked for the note which had been left there 
for collection against him. 
“ It was discounted,” said the teller. 
“ Discounted! who in the world will discount 
my note?” said John amazed. 
“Any body, with such a backer as you’ve got 
on this.” 
“Backer! Me—backer—who?” 
“Here’s the note; you can see," said the 
teller, handing him the document, and on which 
John recognized the bold signature of the then 
President of the United States. 
“Sold, truly!” exclaimed John, with a hys¬ 
teric gasp, and drawing forth the money—for 
he saw through the management at a glance. 
The note was paid of course, and justice was 
awarded the spendthrift at once. 
On the next morning he found upon his desk 
a note which contained the following entertaing 
bit of personal intelligence : 
Sir —A change has been made in your office. 
I am directed the President to inform you 
that your services will no longer be needed in 
this department. Yours, &c., 
-, Secretary. 
John Small retired to private life at once, and 
thenceforth found it convenient to live on a 
much smaller allowance than twelve hundred a 
year .—Rockland County Journal. 
- ** 9 - 
“ Say Oliver, can you tell what is the best 
thing to hold two pieces of rope together?" 
“I guess knot." 
