"Well, Nancy," replied Billy, "this is the second time today that this
advice has been given me, for," he added, pulling the newspaper from his
pocket, "a minister gave me a paper in which there is an advertisement
for a farmer, and advised me to look into it. Here it is," and he read
as follows:

"WANTED--A FARMER. Wanted, competent man, not afraid of work, to take
charge of a farm of two hundred acres in ---- County, New York. A good
house to live in, and good wages to the right man. References required.
Apply by mail or in person to J. M. Quintin, Centerville Landing, ----
County, New York."

"Why," exclaimed Nancy, "I believe that is providential."

After pondering the subject awhile Billy wrote to Mr. Quintin, enclosing
his credentials, and mailed the letter immediately.

In less than a week he received the following reply:

"William Sparrow, Esq., New York.

"I have just received your application for the position on Monastery Farm
in answer to my advertisement. In replying I want to be candid with you.
In a word, unless you are an expert farmer your application cannot be
considered. If, therefore, you have any doubts about being able to meet
the requirements, there is no need for further correspondence. This is a
first-class farm and must be worked by first-class methods. The opening
is an especially good one for the right man. Perhaps you had better come
up and see the place, and give us a chance to see you. Come by boat to
Centerville Landing. Let me know the time of your arrival, should you
decide to come, and someone will meet you.

"J.W. QUINTIN, Trustee."

Billy read this letter with somewhat mixed feelings. There was no
mistaking its meaning. This man spoke out. Its very brusqueness
disconcerted the unsophisticated young man. His experience was quite
limited. He had managed his father's one-hundred-acre farm several years,
and it had paid very well. But he had always had his father's advice; of
which he would be deprived in this his greater work. He read the letter
to Nancy, and she was similarly impressed.

Finally Billy remarked: "I will find the preacher and ask his advice,"
and without further words he started to Washington Square, where his
newly-found friend lived.

He was ushered into the library. He had never seen so many books before
in one place. While he was glancing around in his surprise, the preacher
entered. "Good evening, Mr. Sparrow," he said. "How are you? Have you
found an