tus, that is, left off studying and took to business.
He became what they call a "clerk" in what they call a "store" up in the
huckleberry districts, and kept such accounts as were required by the
business of the establishment. His principal occupation was, however, to
attend to the details of commerce as it was transacted over the counter.
This industry enabled him, to his great praise be it spoken, to assist
his excellent parent, to clothe himself in a becoming manner, so that he
made a really handsome figure on Sundays and was always of presentable
aspect, likewise to purchase a book now and then, and to subscribe for
that leading periodical which furnishes the best models to the youth of
the country in the various modes of composition.

Though Master Gridley was very kind to the young man, he was rather
disposed to check the exuberance of his poetical aspirations. The truth
was, that the old classical scholar did not care a great deal for modern
English poetry. Give him an Ode of Horace, or a scrap from the Greek
Anthology, and he would recite it with great inflation of spirits; but he
did not think very much of "your Keatses, and your Tennysons, and the
whole Hasheesh crazy lot," as he called the dreamily sensuous idealists
who belong to the same century that brought in ether and chloroform. He
rather shook his head at Gifted Hopkins for indulging so largely in
metrical composition.

"Better stick to your ciphering, my young friend," he said to him, one
day. "Figures of speech are all very well, in their way; but if you
undertake to deal much in them, you'll figure down your prospects into a
mighty small sum. There's some danger that it will take all the sense
out of you, if you keep writing verses at this rate. You young
scribblers think any kind of nonsense will do for the public, if it only
has a string of rhymes tacked to it. Cut off the bobs of your kite,
Gifted Hopkins, and see if it does n't pitch, and stagger, and come down
head-foremost. Don't write any stuff with rhyming tails to it that won't
make a decent show for itself after you've chopped all the rhyming tails
off. That's my advice, Gifted Hopkins. Is there any book you would like
to have out of my library? Have you ever read Spenser's Faery Queen?"

He had tried, the young man answered, on the recommendation of Cyprian
Eveleth, but had found it rather hard reading.

Master Gridley lifted his eyebrows very slightly, remembering that some