At ten o'clock the next day, Harry presented himself at the hotel. He carried in his hand a carpetbag lent him by Mr. Leavitt, which contained his small stock of under-clothing. His outside suits he left at Mr. Leavitt's, not wishing to be encumbered with them while traveling.
"I see you are on time," said the professor.
"Yes, sir; I always mean to be."
"That's well; now if you'll jump into my buggy with me, we will ride round to the Town Hall and take in my apparatus. I have to keep a carriage," said the magician, as they rode along. "It saves me a great deal of trouble by making me independent of cars and stages."
The apparatus was transferred to a trunk in the back part of the buggy and securely locked.
"Now we are all ready," said Professor Henderson,
"Would you like to drive?"
"Yes, sir," answered Harry, with alacrity.
"I am going to give an entertainment in Holston this evening," said his new employer. "Were you ever there?"
"No, sir."
"It is a smart little place and although the population is not large, I always draw a full house."
"How far is it, sir?"
"About six miles."
Harry was sorry it was not farther, as he enjoyed driving. His companion leaned back at his ease and talked on various subjects. He paused a moment and Harry was startled by hearing a stifled child's voice just behind him: "Oh, let me out! Don't keep me locked up here!"
The reins nearly fell from his hands. He turned and heard the voice apparently proceeding from the trunk.
"What's the matter?" asked Professor Henderson.
"I thought I heard a child's voice."
"So you did," said the voice again.
The truth flashed upon Harry. His companion was exerting some of his powers as a ventriloquist.
"Oh, it is you, sir," he said, smiling.
His companion smiled.
"You are right," he said.
"I don't see how you can do it," said Harry.
"Practice, my boy."
"But practice wouldn't make everybody a ventriloquist, would it?"
"Most persons might become ventriloquists, though in an unequal degree. I often amuse myself by making use of it for playing practical jokes upon people.
"Do you see that old lady ahead?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll offer her a ride. If she accepts, you'll see sport. I shall make you talk but you must be careful to say nothing yourself."
A few rods farther on, they overtook an old woman.
"Good morning, ma'am," said the professor. "Won't you get in and ride? It's easier riding than walking."
The old women scanned his countenance and answered: "Thank you, sir, I'm obleeged to ye. I don't mind if I do."
She was assisted into the carriage and sat at one end of the seat, Harry being in the middle.
"I was going to see my darter, Nancy," said the old women. "Mrs. Nehemiah Babcock her name is. Mebbe you know her husband."
"I don't think I do," said the professor.
"He's got a brother in Boston in the dry goods business. Mebbe you've been at his store."
"Mebbe I have."
"I ginerally call to see my darter—her name is Nancy—once a week; but it's rather hard for me to walk, now I'm getting' on in years."
"You're most eighty, ain't you?" appeared to proceed from Harry's mouth. Our hero's face twitched and he had hard work to keep from laughing.
"Indeed, I'm not!" said the old lady, indignantly.
"I'm only sixty-seven and folks say I don't look more'n sixty," and the old lady looked angrily at Harry.
"You must excuse him, ma'am," said the professor, soothingly. "He is no judge of a lady's age."
"I should think not, indeed."
"Indeed, madam, you are very young looking."
The old lady was pacified by this compliment but looked askance at Harry.
"Is he your son?"
"No, ma'am."
The old lady sniffed, as if to say, "So much the better for you."
"Are you travelin' far?" asked the old lady.
"What do you want to know for?" Harry appeared to ask.
"You're a sassy boy!" exclaimed the old woman.
"Harry," said Professor Henderson, gravely, "how often have I told you not to be so unmannerly?"
"He orter be whipped," said the old lady. "Ef I had a boy that was so sassy, I'd larn him manners!"
"I'm glad I ain't your boy," Harry appeared to reply.
"I declare I won't ride another step if you let him insult me so," said the old woman, glaring at our hero.
Professor Henderson caught her eye and significantly touched his forehead, giving her to understand that Harry was only "half-witted."
"You don't say so," she ejaculated, taking the hint at once. "How long's he been so?"
"Ever since he was born."
"Ain't you afraid to have him drive?"
"Oh, not at all. He understands horses as well as I do."
"What's his name?"
Before the professor's answer could be heard, Harry appeared to rattle off the extraordinary name: "George Washington Harry Jefferson Ebenezer Popkins."
"My gracious! Has he got all them names?"
"Why not? What have you got to say about it, old women?" said the same voice.
"Oh, I ain't got no objection," said the old woman.
"You may have fifty-'leven names ef you want to."
"I don't interfere with his names," said the professor.
"If he chooses to call himself—"
"George Washington Harry Jefferson Ebenezer Popkins," repeated the voice, with great volubility.
"If he chooses to call himself by all those names, I'm sure I don't care. How far do you go, ma'am?"
"About quarter of a mile farther."
The professor saw that he must proceed to his final joke.
"Let me out! Don't keep me locked up here!" said the child's voice, from behind, in a pleading tone.
"What's that?" asked the startled old lady.
"What's what?" asked the professor, innocently.
"That child that wants to get out."
"You must have dreamed it, my good lady."
"No, there 'tis agin'," said the old lady, excited.
"It's in the trunk behind you," said the assumed voice, appearing to proceed from our hero.
"So 'tis," said the old lady, turning halfway round.
"Oh, I shall die! Let me out! Let me out!"
"He's locked up his little girl in the trunk," Harry seemed to say.
"You wicked man, let her out this minute," said the old lady, very much excited. "Don't you know no better than to lock up a child where she can't get no air?"
"There is no child in the trunk, I assure you," said Professor Henderson, politely.
"Don't you believe him," said Harry's voice.
"Do let me out, father!" implored the child's voice
"If you don't open the trunk, I'll have you took up for murder," said the old lady.
"I will open it to show you are mistaken."
The professor got over the seat, and, opening the trunk, displayed its contents to the astonished old lady.
"I told you that there was no child there," he said; "but you would not believe me."
"Le' me out," gasped the old woman. "I'd rather walk. I never heerd of such strange goin's on afore."
"If you insist upon it, madam, but I'm sorry to lose your company. Take this with you and read it."
He handed her one of his bills, which she put in her pocket, saying she couldn't see to read it.
When they were far enough off to make it safe, Harry gave vent to his mirth, which he had restrained till this at difficulty and laughed long and loud.
"What will the old lady think of you?" said Harry.
"She will have a very bad opinion till she puts on her specs and read the bill. That will explain all. I shouldn't be surprised to see her at my entertainment."
"I wonder if she'll recognize me," said Harry.
"No doubt; as soon as she learns with whom she rode, she'll be very curious to come and see me perform."
"How old were you when you began to be a ventriloquist?"
"I was eighteen. I accidentally made the discovery, and devoted considerable time to perfecting myself in it before acquainting anyone with it. That idea came later. You see when I was twenty-one, with a little property which I inherited from my uncle, I went into business for myself; but I was young and inexperienced in management, and the consequence was, that in about two years I failed. I found it difficult to get employment as a clerk, business being very dull at the time. While uncertain what to do, one of my friends, to whom I had communicated my power, induced me to give me a public entertainment, combining with it a few tricks of magic, which I had been able to pick up from books. I succeeded so well my vocation in life became Professor Henderson."
"It must be great fun to be a ventriloquist."
"So I regarded it at first. It may not be a very high vocation but I make the people laugh and so I regard myself as a public benefactor. Indeed, I once did an essential service to a young man by means of my ventriloquism."
"I should like very much to hear the story."
"I will tell you. One day, a young man, a stranger, came to me and introduced himself under the name of Paul Dabney. He said that I might, if I would, do him a great service. His father had died the year previous, leaving a farm and other property to the value of fifteen thousand dollars. Of course, being as only son, he expected that this would be left to himself, or, at least, the greater part of it. Conceive his surprise, therefore, when the will came to be read, to find that the entire property was left to his Uncle Jonas, his father brother, who, for three years past, had been a member of the family. Jonas had never prospered in life, and his brother, out of pity, had offered him an asylum on his farm. He had formerly been a bookkeeper and was an accomplished penman.
"The will was so extraordinary—since Paul and his father had always been on perfectly good terms—that the young man was thunderstruck. His uncle expressed hypocritical surprise at the nature of the will.
"'I don't believe my father made that will,' exclaimed Paul, angrily.
"'What do you mean by that?' demanded the uncle.
"His anger made Paul think that he had hit upon the truth, particularly as his uncle was an adroit penman.
"He carefully examined the will; but the writing so closely resembled his father's that he could see no difference. The witnesses were his Uncle Jonas and a hired man, who, shortly after witnessing the signature, had been discharged and had disappeared from the neighborhood. All this excited Paul's suspicions.
"His uncle offered him a home on the farm; but positively refused to give him any portion of the property.
"'I sympathize with you,' I said at the conclusion of Paul's story; 'but how can I help you?'
"'I will tell you, sir,' he replied. 'You must know that my Uncle Jonas is very superstitious. I mean, through your help, to play upon his fears and thus induce him to give up the property to me.'
"With this he unfolded his plan and I agreed to help him. His uncle lived ten miles distant. I procured a laborer's disguise and the morning after—Paul having previously gone back—I entered the yard of the farmhouse. The old man was standing outside, smoking a pipe.
"'Can you give me work?' I asked.
"'What kind of work?' inquired Jonas.
"'Farm work,' I answered.
"'How much do you want?'
"'Eight dollars a month.'
"'I'll give you six,' he said.
"'That's too little.'
"'It's the most I'll give you.'
"'Then I'll take,' I replied, and was at once engaged.
"Delighted to get me so cheap, the sordid old man asked me no troublesome questions. I knew enough of farm work to get along pretty well and not betray myself.
"That night I concealed myself in the old man's apartment without arousing his suspicions, Paul helping me. After he had been in bed about twenty minutes, I thought it time to begin. Accordingly I uttered a hollow groan.
"'Eh! What's that?' cried the old man, rising in bed.
"'I am the spirit of your dead brother,' I answered, throwing my voice near the bed.
"'What do you want?' he asked, his teeth chattering.
"'You have cheated Paul out of his property.'
"'Forgive me!' he cried, terror-stricken.
"'Then give him back the property.'
"'The whole?' he groaned.
"'Yes, the whole.'
"'Are—are you really my brother?'
"'I will give you this proof. Unless you do as I order you, in three days you will be with me.'
"'What, dead?' he said, shuddering.
"'Yes,' I answered in sepulchral a tone as possible.
"'Are—are you sure of it?'
"'If you doubt it, disobey me.'
"'I'll do it, but—don't come again.'
"'Be sure you do it then.'
"I ceased to speak, being tired, and escaped as soon as I could. But the battle was not yet over. The next day gave Jonas courage. Afternoon came and he had done nothing. He was with me in the field when I threw a hollow voice, which seemed to be close to his ear. I said, 'Obey, or in three days you die.'
"He turned pale as a sheet and asked me if I heard anything. I expressed surprise and this confirmed him in his belief of the ghostly visitation. He went to the house, sent for a lawyer and transferred the entire property to his nephew. The latter made him a present of a thousand dollars and so the affair ended happily. Paul paid me handsomely for my share in the trick and the next day I made an excuse for leaving the farm."
"Did the old man ever discover your agency in the affair, Professor Henderson?"
"Never. He is dead now and my friend Paul is happily married, and has a fine family. His oldest boy is named after me. But here we are in Holston."
The people of Holston turned out in large numbers. Among the first to appear was the old lady whom the professor had taken up on his way over.
"You're the boy that was so sassy to me this mornin'," she said, peering at Harry through her spectacles.
"I didn't say a word to you," said Harry.
"I'm afraid you're tellin' fibs. I heerd you."
"It was the professor. He put the words in my mouth."
"Well, come to think on't the voice was different from yours. Then there wa'n't nobody in the trunk?"
"No, ma'am," said Harry, smiling.
"It's wonderful, I declare for't. This is my darter, Mrs. Nehemiah Babcock," continued the old lady. "Nancy, this is the ventriloquer's boy. I thought he was sassy to me this mornin'; but he says he didn't speak a word. How much is to pay?" said the old lady.
"I won't charge you anything," said Harry. "Professor Henderson told me, if you came to let you in free, and any of your family."
"Really, now, that's very perlite of the professor," said the old lady. "He's a gentleman if ever there was one. Do you hear, Nancy, we can go in without payin' a cent. That's all on, account of your marm's being acquainted with the professor. I'm glad I come."
The old lady and her party entered the hall, and being early, secured good seats. Tom, her grandson, was glad to be so near, as he was ambitious to assist the professor in case volunteers were called for.
"Will any young gentleman come forward and assist me in the next trick?" asked the professor, after a while.
Tom started from his seat. His grandmother tried to seize him by the coat but he was too quick for her.
"Oh, let him go," said his mother. "He won't come to any harm."
"Is this your first appearance as a magician?" asked the professor.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom, with a grin.
"Very good. I will get you to help me, but you mustn't tell anybody how the tricks are done."
"No, sir, I won't."
"As I am going trust you with a little money, I want to ask you whether you are strictly honest."
"Yes, sir."
"I am glad to hear it. Do you see this piece of gold?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is its value?"
"Ten dollars," answered Tom, inspecting it.
"Very good. I want you hold it for me. I give you warning that I mean to make it pass out of you hand."
"I don't think you can do it, sir."
"Well, perhaps not. You look like a pretty sharp customer. It won't be easy to fool you."
"You bet."
"Nancy," whispered the old lady to her daughter. "I hope you don't allow Tom to talk so."
"Look, mother, see want he's going to do."
"What I propose to do," said the professor, "is to make that coin pass into the box on the table. I may not be able to do it, as the young gentleman is on his guard. However, I will try. Presto, change!"
"It didn't go," said Tom. "I've got it here."
"Have you? Suppose you open your hand."
Tom opened his hand.
"Well, what have you got? Is it the gold piece?"
"No sir," said Tom, astonished; "it's a cent."
"Then, sir, all I can say is, you have treated me badly. In order to prevent my getting the gold piece into the box, you changed it into a cent."
"No, I didn't," said Tom.
"Then perhaps I have succeeded, after all. The fact is, I took out the gold piece and put a penny in its place, so that you might not know the difference. Now here is the key of that box. Will you unlock it?"
Tom unlocked it, only to find another box inside. In fact, it was a perfect nest of boxes. In the very last of all was found the gold coin.
"It's very strange you didn't feel it go out of your hand," said the professor.
"I am afraid you are not quick enough to make a magician. Can you fire a pistol?"
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
"Will any lady lend me a ring?" asked the professor.
One was soon found
"I will load the pistol," said the professor, "and put the ring in with the rest of the charge. It appears to be rather too large. I shall have to hammer it down."
He brought down a hammer heavily upon the ring and soon bent it sufficiently to get it into the pistol.
"Now, sir," he said, "take the pistol, and stand off there. All right, sir. When I give the word, I want you to fire. One, two, three!"
Tom fired, his grandmother uttering a half suppressed shriek at the report. When the smoke cleared away, the professor was holding the ring between his thumb and finger, quite uninjured.
Professor Henderson's attention had been drawn to his companion of the morning. He observed that she had taken off her bonnet. He went up to her, and said, politely, "Madam, will you kindly lend me your bonnet?"
"Massy sakes, what do you want of it?"
"I won't injure it, I assure you."
"You may take it, ef you want to," said the old lady; "but be keerful and don't bend it."
"I will be very careful; but, madam," he said, in seeming surprise, "what have you got in it?"
"Nothing, sir."
"You are mistaken. See there, and there, and there"; and he rapidly drew out three onions, four turnips, and a couple of potatoes. "Really, you must have thought you were going to market."
"They ain't mine," gasped the old lady.
"Then it's very strange how they got into your bonnet. And—let me see—here's an egg, too."
"I never see sich doin's."
"Granny, I guess a hen made her nest in your bonnet," whispered Tom.
The old lady shook her head in helpless amazement.
A week later Harry reached a brisk manufacturing place which I will call Centreville. He assisted the professor during the afternoon to get ready the hall for his evening performance and, at half past five, took his seat at the supper table in the village hotel.
Just as Harry began to eat, he lifted his eyes, and started in surprise as he recognized, in his opposite neighbor, Luke Harrison, whose abrupt departure without paying his debts the reader will remember. Under the circumstances, it will not be wondered at that our hero's look was not exactly cordial. As for Luke, he was disagreeably startled at Harry's sudden appearance. Not knowing his connection with Professor Henderson, he fancied that our hero was in quest of him and not being skilled in the law, felt a little apprehension as to what course he might take. It was best, he concluded to conciliate him.
"How are you, Walton?" he said.
"I am well," said Harry, coldly.
"How do you happen to be in this neighborhood?"
"On business," said Harry, briefly.
Luke jumped to the conclusion that the business related to him and, conscious of wrong-doing, felt disturbed.
"I'm glad to see you," he said. "It seems pleasant to see an old acquaintance"—he intended to say "friend."
"You left us rather suddenly," said Harry.
"Why, yes," said Luke, hesitating. "I had reasons. I'll tell you about it after supper."
As Harry rose from the table, Luke joined him.
"Come upstairs to my room, Walton," he said, "and have a cigar."
"I'll go upstairs with you; but I don't smoke."
"You'd better learn. It's a great comfort."
"Do you board here?"
"Yes. I found I shouldn't have to pay any more than at a boarding house and the grub's better. Here's my room. Walk in."
He led the way into a small apartment on the top floor.
"This is my den," he said. "There isn't but one chair; but I'll sit on the bed. When did you reach town?"
"About noon."
"Are you going to stop long?" asked Luke.
"I shall stay here till I get through with my errand," answered Harry, shrewdly; for he saw what Luke thought, and it occurred to him that he might turn it to advantage.
Luke looked a little uneasy.
"By the way, Walton," he said, "I believe I owe you a little money."
"Yes. I believe so."
"I'm sorry I can't pay you the whole of it. It costs considerable to live, you know; but I'll pay part."
"Here are five dollars," he said. "I'll pay you the rest as soon as I can—in a week or two."
Harry took the bank note with secret self-congratulation, for he had given up the debt as bad, and never expected to realize a cent of it.
"I am glad to get it," he said. "I have a use for all my money. Are you working in this town?"
"Yes. The shoe business is carried on here considerably. Are you still working for Mr. Leavitt?"
"No; I've left him."
"What are you doing, then?"
"I'm traveling with Professor Henderson."
"What, the magician?"
"Yes."
"And is that what brought you to Centreville?"
"Yes."
Luke whistled.
"I thought—" he began.
"What did you think?"
"I thought," answered Luke, evasively, "that you might be looking for work in some of the shoe shops here."
"Is there any chance, do you think?"
"No, I don't think there is," said Luke; for he was by no means anxious to have Harry in the same town.
"Then I shall probably stay with the professor."
"What do you do?"
"Take tickets at the door and help him beforehand with his apparatus."
"You'll let me in free, to-night, won't you?"
"That isn't for me to decide."
"I should think the professor would let your friends go in free."
"I'll make you an offer, Luke," said he.
"What is it?"
"Just pay me the rest of; that money to-night and I'll let you in free at my own expense."
"I can't do it. I haven't got the money. If 'you'll give it back, I'll call it a dollar more and pay you the whole at the end of next week."
"I'm afraid your calling it a dollar more wouldn't do much good," said Harry, shrewdly.
"Do you doubt my word?" blustered Luke, who had regained courage now that he had ascertained the real object of Harry's visit and that it had no connection with him.
"I won't express any opinion on that subject," answered Harry; "but there's an old saying that a 'bird in the hand's worth two in the bush.'"
"I hate old sayings."
"Some of them contain a great deal of truth."
"What a fool I was to pay him that five dollars!" thought Luke, regretfully. "If I hadn't been such a simpleton, I should have found out what brought him here, before throwing away nearly all I had."
This was the view Luke took of paying his debts. He regarded it as money thrown away. Apparently, a good many young men are of a similar opinion. This was not, however, according to Harry's code, and was never likely to be. He believed in honesty and integrity. If he hadn't, I should feel far less confidence in his ultimate success.
"I think I must leave you," said Harry, rising. "The professor may need me."
"Do you like him? Have you got a good place?"
"Yes, I like him. He is a very pleasant man."
"How does it pay?"
"Pretty well."
"I wouldn't mind trying it myself. Do you handle all the money?"
"I take the money at the door."
"I suppose you might keep back a dollar or so, every night, and he'd never know the difference."
"I don't know. I never thought about that," said Harry, dryly.
"Oh, I remember, you're one of the pious boys."
"I'm too pious to take money that doesn't belong to me, if that's what you mean," said Harry.
This was a very innocent remark; but Luke, remembering how he had kept Harry's pocketbook, chose to interpret it as a fling to himself.
"Do you mean that for me?" he demanded, angrily.
"Mean what for you?"
"That about keeping other people's money."
"I wasn't talking about you at all. I was talking about myself."
"You'd better not insult me," said Luke, still suspicious.
"I'm not in the habit of insulting anybody."
"I don't believe in people that set themselves up to be so much better than everybody else."
"Do you mean that for me?" asked Harry, smiling.
"Yes, I do. What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing, except to deny that I make any such claims. Shall you come round to the hall, to-night?"
"Perhaps so."
"Then I shall see you. I must be going now."
He went out, leaving Luke vainly deploring the loss of the five dollars which he had so foolishly squandered in paying his debt.
"Harry," said the professor, after breakfast the next morning, "I find we must get some more bills printed. You may go round to the office of the Centreville Gazette, and ask them how soon they can print me a hundred large bills and a thousand small ones."
"All right, sir. Suppose they can't have them done by the ready to start?"
"They can send them to me by express."
Harry had never been in a printing office; but he had a great curiosity to see one ever since he had read the "Life of Benjamin Franklin." If there was anyone in whose steps he thought he should like to follow, it was Franklin, and Franklin was a printer.
He had no difficulty in finding the office. It was in the second story of a building, just at the junction of two roads near the center of the town, the post office being just underneath. He ascended a staircase, and saw on the door, at the head of the stairs:
"CENTREVILLE GAZETTE"
He opened the door and entered. He saw a large room, containing a press at the end, while two young men, with paper caps on their heads, were standing in their shirt sleeves at upright cases setting type. On one side there was a very small office partitioned off. Within, a man was seen seated at a desk, with a pile of exchange papers on the floor, writing busily. This was Mr. Jotham Anderson publisher and editor of the Gazette.
"I want to get some printing done," said Harry, looking toward the journeymen.
"Go to Mr. Anderson," said one, pointing to the office.
Harry went in. The editor looked up as he entered.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I want to get some printing done."
"For yourself?"
"No; for Professor Henderson."
"I've done jobs for him before. What does he want?"
Our hero explained.
"Very well, we will do it."
"Can you have it done before two o'clock?"
"Impossible. I am just bringing out my paper."
"When can you have the job finished?"
"To-morrow noon."
"I suppose that will do. We perform to-morrow at Berlin and they can be sent over to the hotel there."
"You say 'we,'" answered Harry, amused. "I take tickets, and assist him generally."
"How do you like the business?"
"Very well; but I should like your business better."
"What makes you think so?"
"I have been reading the 'Life of Benjamin Franklin.' He was a printer."
"That's true; but I'm sorry to say Franklins are scarce in our printing offices. I never met one yet."
"I shouldn't expect to turn out a Franklins; but I think one couldn't help being improved by the business."
"True again, though, of course, it depends on the wish to improve. How long have you been working for Professor Henderson?"
"Not long. Only two or three weeks."
"What did you do before?"
"I was pegger in a shoe shop."
"Didn't you like it?"
"Well enough, for I needed to earn money and it paid me; but I don't think I should like to be a shoemaker all my life. It doesn't give any chance to learn."
"Then you like learning?"
"Yes. 'Live and learn'—that is my motto."
"It is a good one. Do you mean to be a printer?"
"If I get a chance."
"You may come into my office on the first of April, if you like. One of my men will leave me by the first of May. If you are a smart boy, and really wish to learn the business, you can break in so as to be useful in four weeks."
"I should like it," said Harry; "but," he added, with hesitation, "I am poor, and could not afford to work for nothing while I was learning."
"I'll tell you what I'll do, then," said the editor. "I'll give you your board for the first month, on condition that you'll work for six months afterwards for two dollars a week and board. That's a fair offer. I wouldn't make it if I didn't feel assured that you were smart, and would in time be valuable to me."
"I'll come if my father does not object."
"Quite tight. I should not like to have you act contrary to his wishes. I suppose, for the present, you will remain with Professor Henderson."
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Let me hear from you when you have communicated with your father."
Harry left the office plunged in thought. It came upon him with surprise, that he had engaged himself to learn a new business, and that the one which he had longed to follow ever since he had become acquainted with Franklin's early life. He realized that he was probably making immediate sacrifice. He could, undoubtedly, make more money in the shoe shop than in the printing office, for the present at least. By the first of April the shoe business obtain employment. But then he was sure he should like printing better, and if he was ever going to change, why, the sooner he made the change the better.
When he returned to the hotel, he told the professor what he had done.
"I am glad you are not going at once," said his employer, "for I should be sorry to lose you. I generally give up traveling for the season about the first of April, so that I shall be ready to release you. I commend your choice of a trade. Many of our best editors have been practical printers in their youth."
"I should like to be an editor, but I don't know enough."
"Not at present; but you can qualify yourself to become one—that is, if you devote you spare time to reading and studying."
"I mean to do that."
"Then you will fair chance of becoming what you desire. To a certain extent, a boy, or young man, holds the future in his own hands."
Harry wrote to father, at once, in regard to the plan which he had in view. The answer did not reach him for nearly a week; but we will so far anticipate matters as to insert that part which related to it.
"If you desire to be a printer, Harry, I shall not object. It is a good trade, and you can make yourself, through it, useful to the community. I do not suppose it will ever make you rich. Still, I should think it might, in time, give you a comfortable living—better, I hope, than I have been able to earn as a farmer. If you determine to win success, you probably will. If you should leave your present place before the first of April, we shall be very glad to have you come home, if only for a day or two. We all miss you very much—your mother, particularly. Tom doesn't say much about it; but I know he will be as glad to see you as the rest of us."
Harry read this letter with great pleasure, partly because it brought him permission to do as he desired, and partly because it was gratifying to him to feel that he was missed at home. He determined, if it was a possible thing, to leave the professor a week before his new engagement, and spend that time in Granton.