ished when you hear it. Supdress, and paid for a certain the dress was sent home, you eper had made a mistake, and more than you had settled for,

act differently would not be

would you have believed it?

but acts differently."

rtainly, Mrs. Grimes." Florence."

hardly believe my eyes against character. I think I ought have been very intimate for

er too. But it seems that I

So he walked across to the tinman's, and bought a small kettle, and then back and had a pound of honey placed therein to be sent home. After he had purchased what vegetables he had designed, some dried Lima beans presented themselves, and a quart was taken, as the price was but fifteen pence. Some cakes and candies for the children took a shilling more. Thus it was that twelve shillings were spent, instead of seven, the sum at first decided upon as sufficient.

When Mr. Barnaby went to market, he put a pound note in his pocket. On returning home, and counting over his change, he could find but eight shillings.

"That can't be," he said to himself, searching first in one pocket and then in another. "I have not spent twelve shillings."

But nowhere could he turn up another shilling.

"Somebody must have given me wrong change.” This was the most reasonable conclusion to which he could come, after adding up the cost of the various articles purchased, and forgetting to include the tin kettle, the cakes and candies for the children, and the quart of Lima beans.

"Had you not better take your umbrella with you?" said Mrs. Barnaby to her husband, as the latter prepared to leave for his place of business. "It looks very much like a storm."

Mr. Barnaby opened the door and glanced up at the sky, "I don't think it will rain."

"It will be wisest to take your umbrella. If it does not rain, no harm will be done; and if it should rain, you will save yourself from being wet."

Mr. Barnaby paused a moment to think, and then said, as he stepped out, "I'll risk it."

On his way to his office, Mr. Barnaby passed a window in which were some very handsome bouquets of artificial flowers made from tissue-paper. He paused to admire, and then went in to ask the price. Once inside of the store in which the bouquets were sold, and in the power of a saleswoman who knew her man the moment he entered,

there was no such thing as retiring without becoming the owner of a splendid bunch of flowers, at the moderate cost of two shillings, which the shop-woman promised to send home immediately.

66

Cheap enough," said Barnaby to himself, as he left the shop. "How many shillings have 1 spent in real flowers that faded, and became worthless in a day; but these will retain their beauty for years. Aggy will be delighted with them !"

During the morning, Mr. Barnaby had occasion to purchase some articles of stationery. While waiting to have them made up into a package, after selecting what he wanted, he commenced looking over the books that were displayed upon the counter.

"Just the thing for Tom," he said aloud, as he opened a book containing a number of gaily-painted pictures. "How much is it?"

"Only seven and sixpence."

"You may tie it up for me." And he tossed the book to the man who stood behind the counter.

Before twelve o'clock, the rain, which Mr. Barnaby's wife had predicted, began to fall. At one it was still coming down freely, and at two, Mr. Barnaby's dinner hour, there was no sign of abatement. Mr. Barnaby opened the door of his office and gazed up at the leaden sky; he then looked across the street, and saw, hanging before a door, just the article he wanted—an umbrella. To get possession of this article, he must, of course, purchase it. But he had two umbrellas at home now.

"What if I have?" said he to himself, as the fact was presented to his mind. "It is here that I want an umbrella."

Not long was the question of buying another umbrella debated. He could not lose his dinner, especially as a fine pair of fat chickens were to be served; and it was raining too hard to think of venturing on the journey home without some protection. He might go home in a cab for two shillings, but then the money would be gone as certainly as if it were thrown into the street. If, on the contrary, he were

to buy an umbrella, even though it cost more, he would be in possession of a useful article, that would have to be bought, as the natural result of the wear and tear of those he now had on hand, before a twelvemonth elapsed. Moreover, he reflected, for as large a family as his, three or four umbrellas were almost indispensable.

Arrived at this conclusion, Mr. Barnaby ran across the street, and supplied himself with a cheap cotton umbrella, at an expense of three shillings.

"Where does the money go?" said Mr. Barnaby that evening, as he searched his pockets, and could find but a solitary sixpence remaining of the cash he had taken from his secretary in the morning. "I cannot understand it. Certainly I have not spent twenty shillings." Then he took a piece of paper and his pencil, and tried to "figure it up." But he did not get beyond sixteen shillings; and he would almost have taken his oath that he had not spent a copper As for the deficit, that must have occurred through his having received wrong change.

more.

Here the reader has a history of one day's spendings; and he will perceive that from eight to ten shillings passed from the hands of Mr. Barnaby that had better have remained in his possession. A system like this, pursued every day in the year, would use up from one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds, and there would be little or nothing to show for it in the end. In the day's expenditure, four shillings had gone, and Mr. Barnaby's memory was entirely at fault in regard to the manner of its disappearance. Four shillings thus wasted each day, would leave, in the annual expense, not less than twelve hundred shillings, or sixty pounds, unaccounted for. But Mr. Barnaby had never looked at the matter in this light. He did not reflect, that a shilling uselessly spent every day is equal to upwards of eighteen pounds thrown away in the year.

On the next morning, Mr. Barnaby again went to market, and, as was usual with him, turned over in his mind the various articles he must buy, and fixed upon the sum that would meet all that was really wanted. But, as on the day

before, he exceeded this amount. The excess was four shillings, and the articles purchased could all have been left in the market-house, without any member of Mr. Barnaby's family experiencing the smallest deprivation in comfort or health.

"What a beautiful bunch of flowers!" said Mrs. Barnaby to her husband, for the tenth time, as they stood together in the parlour after breakfast. "What a pity it is we have not a glass vase to cover them! They would look So sweet!"

"Would they not?" was all the reply Mr. Barnaby made; but the idea suggested by his wife did not die with the sound of her voice. It entered his mind, and lived there. In imagination he saw that bouquet of flowers-tissue-paper though they were-within a glass vase, their beauty increased twofold.

Mr. Barnaby did not go direct to his office on leaving home that morning, but walked considerably out of his way, in order to visit a china-store. Before leaving the store, his purse was lighter by eight shillings, that sum having been expended for a glass to cover the bouquet of paper flowers bought for two.

As Mr. Barnaby walked along, thinking how gratified his wife would be when the vase was brought home, he passed a pickling and preserving establishment, and saw in the window jars of fruit and vegetables of various kinds, preserved in the condition they were on being taken from the tree. One of these jars was marked "Cauliflower." Mr. Barnaby liked cauliflower very much, and had them on his table from the time they were to be bought four for a shilling, until frost withered the last of them. To have a taste of the delightful vegetable once during the winter could hardly be called extravagance-so thought Mr. Barnaby—even if it did cost something to procure the gratification. So in he went, without debating the matter, and bought a small jar for two shillings. While the shopkeeper was selecting his change, he took up a small bottle containing less than half a pint, marked "Strawberries."