Its warmth was in the clothing that covered my back, its delicacy in the ignorance of those who had shared its benefactions.
I count this one of the great events of my youth.

But there was a greater one, although it seemed not so at the time of it.

A traveler on the road to Ballybeen had dropped his pocketbook containing a large amount of money--two thousand seven hundred dollars was the sum, if I remember rightly.

He was a man who, being justly suspicious of the banks, had withdrawn his money.

Posters announced the loss and the offer of a large reward.