"Glad to meet you, Deacon Short; and this is my friend Mr. Richard Lee,
of Long Island."

To do the good deacon justice, his grasp of Dick's hand was every bit as
cordial as any other of his grasps; and he beamed on the smiling black
boy in a way that gave him back, after the manner of a reflection, a
great glow of the best and broadest "beaming."

Mrs. Myers did not stop a moment in the repetition of her formula, and
there was sharp work before her; but Dab's tongue was also loose now,
and Elder Potter had hardly time to hear who he was before Deacon Short
had to let go of Dick, and hear Dab say,--

"How d'ye do, Elder Potter? and this is my near neighbor and friend, Mr.
Richard Lee."

"Mrs. Sunderland," began Mrs. Myers, to a lady whose face and dress
declared her a social magnate, "my new boarder, Mr. Frank Harley:" and
the rest of her introduction speech followed; and stately Mrs.
Sunderland had just time to utter a few words of gracious inquiry about
the "precious health" of Frank's father and mother, when he, too, took
up the "omission," and Dick Lee's introduction stepped into the place of
any other answer for a moment.

It was a good thing for Dick, as Mrs. Sunderland was a member of a
society for promoting emigration to Liberia, and was seized at once with
a dim idea that a part of her "mission" was standing before her in very
brilliant shoes and a new red necktie. She did not know how utterly she
and the other good people and those three boys were demolishing a