`No, no,' cried Tom, in a kind of agony. `Don't go there. Pray don't. Think better of it. Don't be so dreadfully regardless of yourself. Don't go to America!'
`My mind is made up,' he said. `Your friend was right. I'll go to America. God bless you, Pinch!'
`Take this!' cried Tom, pressing a book upon him in great agitation. `I must make haste back, and can't say anything I would. Heaven be with you. Look at the leaf I have turned down. Good-bye, good-bye!'
The simple fellow wrung him by the hand, with tears stealing down his cheeks; and they parted hurriedly upon their separate ways.