ing his way through Hamlet.
From the loneliness of his boyhood he had developed the habit of
talking aloud to himself, and in abstracted moments he read in an
audible whisper which impressed the substance more deeply on his mind,
but made him unpopular in the public reading rooms. It was well known
among the patrons of the rooms that he read Hamlet. This fact,
however, may not have been altogether to Dave's disadvantage. On the
evening in question an elderly man engaged him in conversation.

"You are a Shakespearean student, I see?"

"Not exactly. I read a little in the evenings. But I haven't gone far
enough to call myself a student."

"I have seen you here different times. Are you well acquainted with
the town?"

"Pretty well," said Dave, scenting that there might be a purpose in the
questioning.

"Working now?"

Dave told him where he was employed.

"I am the editor of _The Call_," said the elderly man. "We need
another man on the street; a reporter, you know. We pay twenty-five
dollars a week for such a position. If you are interested you might
call at the office tomorrow."

Dave hurried with his problem to Mr. Duncan. "I think I'd like the
work," he said, "but I am not sure whether I can do it. My writing is
rather--wonderful."

Mr. Duncan turned the matter over in his mind. "Yes," he said at
length, "but I notice you are beginning to use the typewriter. When
you learn that God gave you ten fingers, not two, you may make a
typist. And there is nothing more worth while than being able to
express yourself in English. They'll teach you that on a newspaper. I
think I'd take it.

"Not on account of the money," he continued, after a little. "You
would probably soon be earning more in the wholesale business.
Newspaper men are about the worst paid of all professions. But it's
the best training in the world, not for itself, but as a step to
something else. I have often wondered why editors, who are forever
setting every other phase of the world's work to rights, are content to
train up so many thousands of bright young men--and then pass them
along into other businesses where they are better paid. But the
training is worth while, and it's the training you want. Take it."

Dave explained his disadvantages to the editor of _The Call_. "I
didn't want you to think," he said with great frankness, "that because
I was reading Shakespeare I was a master of English. And I guess if I
were to wri