nst him with
the merchant.

"What are your present plans and wishes?" asked Mr. Danforth, after a
slight pause.

"I should like to enter a merchant's counting-room," said Paul, "but as
such places are hard to get, I think I shall try to get into a store."

Mr. Danforth reflected a moment, then placing a piece of paper before
our hero, he said, "Will you write your name and address on this piece
of paper, that I may know where to find you, in case I hear of a place?"

Paul did as directed. He had an excellent handwriting, a point on which
the merchant set a high value.

The latter surveyed the address with approval, and said, "I am glad you
write so excellent a hand. It will be of material assistance to you in
securing a place in a counting-room. Indeed, it has been already, for I
have just thought of a place which I can obtain for you."

"Can you, sir?" said Paul, eagerly.

"Where is it?"

"In my own counting-room," said Mr. Danforth, smiling.

"I am very much obliged to you," said Paul, hardly believing his ears.

"I was prepared to give it to you when you came in, in case I found you
qualified. The superiority of your handwriting decides me. When can you
come?"

"To-morrow, if you like, sir."

"I like your promptness. As it is the middle of the week, however, you
may take a vacation till Monday. Your salary will begin to-morrow."

"Thank you, sir."

"I will give you five dollars per week at first, and more as your
services become more valuable. Will that be satisfactory?"

"I shall feel rich, sir. Mr. Smith only gave me a dollar and a quarter."

"I hope you will find other differences between me and Mr. Smith," said
the merchant, smiling.

These preliminaries over, Mr. Danforth opened the door, and glancing
at Dawkins, said, "Dawkins, I wish you to become acquainted with your
fellow clerk, Paul Prescott."

Dawkins looked surprised, and anything but gratified as he responded
stiffly, "I have the honor of being already acquainted with Mr.
Prescott."

"He is a little jealous of an interloper," thought Mr. Danforth,
noticing the repellent manner of young Dawkins. "Never mind, they will
get acquainted after awhile."

When George Dawkins went home to dinner, his father observed the
dissatisfied look he wore.

"Is anything amiss, my son?" he inquired.

"I should think there was," grumbled his son.

"What is it?"

"We've got a new clerk, and who do you think it is?"

"Who is it?"

"The adop