of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division;
and that in my uncle's eye appeared to be of far more moment than my
moral condition.

"Fred," he said to me the day after I had got home, and after I had
returned from a triumphant march through Brownstroke, to show myself off
to my old comrades generally, and Cad Prog in particular--"Fred," said
my uncle, "I am going to send you to London."

"To London!" cried I, not knowing exactly whether to be delighted, or
astonished, or alarmed, or all three--"to London."

"Yes. You must get a situation, and do something to earn your living."

I ruminated over this announcement, and my uncle continued, "You are old
enough to provide for yourself, and I expect you to do so."

There was a pause, at the end of which, for lack of any better remark, I
said, "Yes."

"The sooner you start the better," continued my uncle. "I have marked a
few advertisements in that pile of newspapers," added he, pointing to a
dozen or so of papers on his table. "You had better take them and look
through them, and tell me if you see anything that would suit you."

Whereat my uncle resumed his writing, and I, with the papers in my arms,
walked off in rather a muddled state of mind to my bedroom.

Half way up stairs a sudden thought occurred to me, which caused me to
drop my burden and hurry back to my uncle's room.

"Uncle, do you know the Smiths of Packworth?"

My uncle looked up crossly.

"Haven't you learned more sense at school, sir, than that? Don't you
know there are hundreds of Smiths at Packworth?"

This was a crusher. I meekly departed, and picking up my papers where I
had dropped them, completed the journey to my room.

It had been a cherished idea of mine, the first day I got home to make
inquiries about my friend Smith. It had never occurred to me before
that Smith was such a very common name; but it now dawned slowly on me
that to find a Smith in Packworth would be about as simple as to find a
needle in a bottle of hay.

Anyhow, I could write to him now without fear--that was a comfort. So I
turned to my newspapers and began to read through a few of the
advertisements my uncle had considerately marked.

The result was not absolutely exhilarating. My uncle evidently was not
ambitious on my account.

"Sharp lad wanted to look after a shop." That was the first I caught
sight of. And the next was equally promising.

"Page wanted by a professional gentleman. Mus