ed the astonishment with which his mother,
Squire Lee, and Annie would listen to the history of his excursion.

After four o'clock that afternoon he entered the store of Mr. Bayard,
bag and baggage. On his arrival in the city, he was considerably
exercised in mind to know how he should get the trunk to his
destination. He was too economical to pay a cartman a quarter; but
what would have seemed mean in a man was praiseworthy in a boy laboring
for a noble end.

Probably a great many of my young readers in Bobby's position, thinking
that sixteen dollars, which our hero had in his pocket, was a mint of
money, would have been in favor of being a little magnificent--of
taking a carriage and going up-town in state. Bobby had not the least
desire to "swell," so he settled the matter by bargaining with a little
ragged fellow to help him carry the trunk to Mr. Bayard's store for
fourpence.

"How do you do, Mr. Timmins?" said Bobby to the spruce clerk, as he
deposited the trunk upon the floor, and handed the ragged boy the
four-pence.

"Ah, Bobby!" exclaimed Mr. Timmins. "Have you sold out?"

"All clean. Is Mr. Bayard in?"

"In the office. But how do you like it?"

"First rate."

"Well, every one to his taste; but I don't see how any one who has any
regard for his dignity can stick himself into every body's house. I
couldn't do it, I know."

"I don't stand for the dignity."

"Ah, well, there is a difference in folks."

"That's a fact," replied Bobby, as he hurried to the office of Mr.
Bayard, leaving Mr. Timmins to sun himself in his own dignity.

The bookseller was surprised to see him so soon, but he gave him a
cordial reception.

"I didn't expect you yet," said he. "Why do you come back? Have you
got sick of the business?"

"Sick of it! No, sir."

"What have you come back for then?"

"Sold out, sir."

"Sold out! You have done well!"

"Better than I expected."

"I had no idea of seeing you till to-morrow night; and I thought you
would have books enough to begin the next week with. You have done
bravely."

"If I had had twenty more, I could have sold them before to-morrow
night. Now, sir, if you please, I will pay you for those
books--thirty-three dollars and fifty cents."

"You had better keep that, Bobby. I will trust you as long as you
wish."

"If you please, sir, I had rather pay it;" and the little merchant, as
proud as a lord, handed over the amount.

"I like your way of doin