obby's trials in the eastern country leaked out, and the
consequence was, that he became a lion in Riverdale. The minister
invited him to tea, as well as other prominent persons, for the sake of
hearing his story; but Bobby declined the polite invitations from sheer
bashfulness. He had not brass enough to make himself a hero; besides,
the remembrance of his journey was any thing but pleasant to him.

On Monday morning he took the early train for Boston, and assumed the
duties of his situation in Mr. Bayard's store. But as I have carried
my hero through the eventful period of his life, I cannot dwell upon
his subsequent career. He applied himself with all the energy of his
nature to the discharge of his duties. Early in the morning and late
in the evening he was at his post, Mr. Bigelow was his friend from the
first, and gave him all the instruction he required. His intelligence
and quick perception soon enabled him to master the details of the
business, and by the time he was fifteen, he was competent to perform
any service required of him.

By the advice of Mr. Bayard, he attended an evening school for six
months in the year, to acquire a knowledge of book keeping, and to
compensate for the opportunities of which he had been necessarily
deprived in his earlier youth. He took Dr. Franklin for his model, and
used all his spare time in reading good books, and in obtaining such
information and such mental culture as would fit him to be, not only a
good merchant, but a good and true man.

Every Saturday night he went home to Riverdale to spend the Sabbath
with his mother. The little black house no longer existed, for it had
become the little paradise of which he had dreamed, only that the house
seemed whiter, the blinds greener, and the fence more attractive than
his fancy had pictured them. His mother, after a couple of years, at
Bobby's earnest pleadings, ceased to close shoes and take in washing;
but she had enough and to spare, for her son's salary was now six
hundred dollars. His kind employer boarded him for nothing, (much
against Bobby's will, I must say,) so that every month he carried to
his mother thirty dollars, which more than paid her expenses.

* * * * *

Eight years have passed by since Bobby--we beg his pardon; he is now
Mr. Robert Bright--entered the store of Mr. Bayard. He has passed from
the boy to the man. Over the street door a new sign has taken the
place of t