“And yet it is a most important work,” said Quincy--“making good citizens from these various nationalities. America, to-day, is like a large garden, with a great variety of flowers from foreign stalks.”
Miss Cotton smiled somewhat satirically. “I'm afraid, your Excellency, if you'd ever been a school teacher, you'd have found many weeds in the garden.”
“But how did you gain your freedom?” asked Quincy. “Did they pension you?”
“Oh, no. An uncle died out West and left me enough with which to buy an annuity. I board with the Reverend Mr. Howe. You remember him?”
“Why, certainly, I do. And here's his son, Emmanuel--have I got the name right?”
“Yes, Governor, just right as to sound. I spell it with an 'E' and two M's,” said young Mr. Howe, as Miss Cotton moved on to tell of her good fortune to Alice and Linda.
“How's your father, now? Does he preach every Sunday?”
“Reg'lar as clock work. Of course I couldn't tell everybody, but I reckon he's using some old sermons that he wrote forty years ago, but the young ones never heard them, and the old ones have forgotten.” Quincy laughed. Ministers' sons are seldom appalled by worldly ways and, quite often, adopt them.
“This is Arthur Scates,” said Mr. Strout, as he presented a young man with sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, and an emaciated body. “He ain't enjoyin' the best of health.”
“Ah, I remember,” said Quincy. “You are the young man who was to sing at the concert when I first came here. I took your place, and that act turned out to be the most important one in my life. I owe much of my present happiness to you. What is your trouble?”
“My lungs are affected. I have lost my voice and cannot sing. I had counted on becoming an opera singer.”
“Why do you not go to one of the out-door hospitals for treatment?”
The young man's face flushed, and he remained silent.
“Pardon me,” said Quincy. “I understand. Come to Boston next week, to the State House, and I will see that you have the best of treatment.”
“Wall, Mr. Sawyer, it does one's eyes good to set 'em on you again. This is Olive Green,--you remember her sister Betsey worked for me when you was one of my boarders.” The woman's voice was loud and strident, and filled the room.
“Mrs. Hawkins, I shall never forget you and Miss Betsey Green, and how you both tried to make my stay with you a pleasant one.”