still a boy. He had now a
clearer perception of what is due to the position and dignity of those
upon whom fortune has smiled.

Bobby wanted to be a man, and it is not strange that he should
sometimes fancy he was a man. He had an idea, too, that "all men are
born free and equal;" and he could not exactly see why a nabob was
entitled to any more respect and consideration than a poor man. It was
a lesson he was compelled to learn, though some folks live out their
lifetimes without ever finding out that.

"'Tis wealth, good sir, makes honorable men." Some people think a rich
man is no better than a poor man, except so far as he behaves himself
better. It is strange how stupid some people are!

Bobby had no notion of cringing to any man, and he felt as independent
as the Declaration of Independence itself. But then the beautiful lady
had told him that he was pert and forward; and when he thought it over,
he was willing to believe she was right, Colonel Whiting was an old
man, compared with himself; and he had some faith, at least in theory,
in the Spartan virtue of respect for the aged. Probably the nabob of
B---- would have objected to being treated with respect on account of
his age; and Bobby would have been equally unwilling to acknowledge
that he treated him with peculiar respect on account of his wealth or
position.

Perhaps the little merchant had an instinctive perception of
expediency--that he should sell more books by being less familiar: at
any rate he determined never again to use the flowery speeches he had
arranged for the upper crust.

He had sold a dozen books; and possibly this fact made him more willing
to compromise the matter than he would otherwise have been. This was,
after all, the great matter for congratulation, and with a light heart
he hurried back to the railroad station to procure another supply.

We cannot follow him into every house where his calling led him. He
was not always as fortunate as in the instances we have mentioned.
Sometimes all his arguments were unavailing, and after he had spent
half an hour of valuable time in setting forth the merits of "The
Wayfarer," he was compelled to retire without having effected a sale.
Sometimes, too, he was rudely repulsed; hard epithets were applied to
him; old men and old women, worried out by the continued calls of
pedlers, sneered at him, or shut the door in his face; but Bobby was
not disheartened. He persevered, and did not a