She never for a moment
doubted that her dear guardian was the artist he claimed to be, or that
the panorama he had painted was the most perfect thing of its kind ever
seen. So she was as enthusiastic concerning the project as the old man
himself, and eagerly aided in his preparations to the full extent of
her ability. There was but one point on which they disagreed. When
Cap'n Cod had exhausted his own resources, and the motive power of the
_Whatnot_ still remained unprovided, Sabella begged that he would draw
some of her money from the bank and use it, but this the old man firmly
declined to do.
"No, Sabella," he would say; "what is mine is yours; but what is yours
is your own, and it would be as bad as stealing for me to touch it."
"But it is mine," the girl would argue; "and if I want to give it to
you, more than I want to do anything else with it, I don't see why you
shouldn't let me."
"No, dear," her guardian would reply. "It is not yours. It is only
held in trust for you until you become of age, by which time you will
have many other uses for money besides gratifying an old man's whim."
"But you will pay it back long before then."
"I might, and then again I might not. There is nothing more uncertain
than the things we think we are sure of."
Then the girl would throw her arms about his neck and exclaim, "Oh, you
dear old stupid! How horridly honest you are! and what a beautiful
world this would be if everybody in it was just like you.
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