ntered the printing office so evidently under the
influence of liquor, that he had been sharply reprimanded by Mr.
Anderson.

"I don't choose to interfere with your mode of life, unwise and
ruinous as I may consider it," he said, "as long as it does not
interfere with your discharge of duty. But to-day you are clearly
incapacitated for labor, and I have a right to complain. If it
happens again, I shall be obliged to look for another journeyman."

Clapp did not care to leave his place just at present, for he had no
money saved up, and was even somewhat in debt, and it might be some
time before he got another place. So he rather sullenly agreed to be
more careful in future, and did not go to work till the afternoon.
But though circumstances compelled him to submit, it put him in bad
humor, and made him more disposed to sneer than ever. He had an
unreasoning prejudice against Harry, which was stimulated by Luke
Harrison, who had this very sufficient reason for hating our hero,
that he had succeeded in injuring him. As an old proverb has it "We
are slow to forgive those whom we have injured."

CHAPTER XV.

A LITERARY DEBUT.

Harry waited eagerly for the next issue of the "Weekly Standard." It
was received by Mr. Anderson in exchange for the "Centreville
Gazette," and usually came to hand on Saturday morning. Harry was
likely to obtain the first chance of examining the paper, as he was
ordinarily sent to the post-office on the arrival of the morning mail.

His hands trembled as he unfolded the paper and hurriedly scanned the
contents. But he looked in vain for his essay on Ambition. There
was not even a reference to it. He was disappointed, but he soon
became hopeful again.

"I couldn't expect it to appear so soon," he reflected. "These city
weeklies have to be printed some days in advance. It may appear yet."

So he was left in suspense another week, hopeful and doubtful by
turns of the success of his first offering for the press. He was
rallied from time to time on his silence in the office, but he
continued to keep his secret. If his contribution was slighted, no
one should know it but himself.

At last another Saturday morning came around and again he set out for
the post-office. Again he opened the paper with trembling fingers,
and eagerly scanned the well-filled columns. This time his search
was rewarded. There, on the first column of the last page, in all
the glory of print, was his t