l who had overheard the
interview laughed out-right.

"What a perfect fool!" thought Nat. "I wonder if anybody will ever give
him anything to do?"

"What can I do for you, young man?" asked the jeweler, turning to the
boy.

"I am looking for work, sir."

"Are your expectations as high as those of the chap who just left?"

"No, sir. I am willing to work hard and I am not afraid of long hours."

"Then you are not a dude?"

"No, sir. Do I look like one?"

"You look like a country lad."

"I came from the country about a month ago. I've been working for
Trumbull & Davison, the paper dealers. But they have sold out to
another firm and don't need me any longer."

"I see. Well, I am sorry for you, for you look bright and honest. But I
need somebody with experience in the jewelry line."

"Then you haven't any place that I can fill?"

"No, I--but hold on. I'll tell you what I might do. Do you know anything
about horses?"

"Yes, sir."

"And about a garden?"

"Yes, sir. I was brought up on a farm."

"I need a man around my country home in New Jersey. I might try you
there, at twelve dollars a month and your board."

Again Nat's face fell.

"Thank you, but I want to get something to do in the city," said he. "I
am tired of farm life."

"Then I can't give you anything," and the jeweler turned away.

During the remainder of the day Nat visited several other stores and
offices. But everywhere he received the same answer--that he was too
late and the position advertised was already filled.

"Perhaps I did wrong not to take that position over in New Jersey," he
thought, on his way to his boarding house. "But I don't want to go back
to farm work if I can help it."

Two additional days passed, and still Nat found nothing to do, although
he tramped from Forty-second Street clear down to the Battery several
times. Then he obtained a job which lasted three days and paid him but
two dollars.

"This isn't earning a living," he reasoned. "Unless I do better I'll
have to try selling papers or blacking boots."

One morning he did try selling papers, under the tutorship of Dick, but
the effort was not a success. By noon he had earned exactly nineteen
cents and had sixteen papers still on hand.

"I guess you wasn't cut out for a newsboy," said Dick, frankly. "What
you want to do is, to get a steady job in a store or office."

"Yes, but the jobs are mighty scarce," answered Nat.

A week passed, and the country boy