know my heart isn't really in newspaper work. The plain
truth is I don't like it, although I do my best. You know Father
always said I was a born mechanic. If I only could get a position
somewhere among machinery--that would be my choice. There's one vacant
in the Steel and Iron Works at Bancroft--but of course I've no chance
of getting it."

"I know. It's too bad," said Patty, returning to her stockings with a
sigh. "I wish I were a boy with a foothold on the _Chronicle_. I
firmly believe that I'd make a good newspaper woman, if such a thing
had ever been heard of in Aylmer."

"That you would. You've twice as much knack in that line as I have.
You seem to know by instinct just what to leave out and put in. I
never do, and Harmer has to blue-pencil my copy mercilessly. Well,
I'll do my best with this, as it's very necessary I should get the
permanency, for I fear our family purse is growing very slim. Mother's
face has a new wrinkle of worry every day. It hurts me to see it."

"And me," sighed Patty. "I do wish I could find something to do too.
If only we both could get positions, everything would be all right.
Mother wouldn't have to worry so. Don't say anything about this chance
to her until you see what comes of it. She'd only be doubly
disappointed if nothing did. What is your other assignment?"

"Oh, I've got to go out to Bancroft on the morning train and write up
old Mr. Moreland's birthday celebration. He is a hundred years old,
and there's going to be a presentation and speeches and that sort of
thing. Nothing very exciting about it. I'll have to come back on the
three o'clock train and hurry out to catch my politician before he
leaves at five. Take a stroll down to meet my train, Patty. We can go
out as far as Mr. Reid's house together, and the walk will do you
good."

The Baxters lived in Aylmer, a lively little town with two
newspapers, the _Chronicle_ and the _Ledger_. Between these two was a
sharp journalistic rivalry in the matter of "beats" and "scoops." In
the preceding spring Clifford had been taken on the _Chronicle_ on
trial, as a sort of general handyman. There was no pay attached to the
position, but he was getting training and there was the possibility of
a permanency in September if he proved his mettle. Mr. Baxter had died
two years before, and the failure of the company in which Mrs.
Baxter's money was invested had left the little family dependent on
their own resources. Clifford, who had