Village books

It's a great card for us. I must get to the
printing-office now, or I shall be too late."
"But stop--stop--don't leave me here alone with it, Edward!"
But he was gone. For only a little while, however. Not far from his own
house he met the editor--proprietor of the paper, and gave him the
document, and said "Here is a good thing for you, Cox--put it in."
"It may be too late, Mr. Richards, but I'll see."
At home again, he and his wife sat down to talk the charming mystery
over; they were in no condition for sleep. The first question was, Who
could the citizen have been who gave the stranger the twenty dollars? It
seemed a simple one; both answered it in the same breath--
"Barclay Goodson."
"Yes," said Richards, "he could have done it, and it would have been like
him, but there's not another in the town."
"Everybody will grant that, Edward--grant it privately, anyway. For six
months, now, the village has been its own proper self once more--honest,
narrow, self-righteous, and stingy."
"It is what he always called it, to the day of his death--said it right
out publicly, too.


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