doubtedly have
been much improved. Whether these patches really affected his ultimate
success I cannot say--only that they were an inconvenience at the
outset.

It was late in the afternoon before John Lane had unloaded his
merchandise and picked up his return freight. Thus far Harry had been
unsuccessful; no one wanted a boy; or if they did, they did not want
such a boy as Harry appeared to be. His country garb, with the five
broad patches, seemed to interfere with the working out of his
manifest destiny. Yet he was not disheartened. Spruce clerks and
ill-mannered boys laughed at him; but he did not despond.

"Try again," exclaimed he, as often as he was told that his services
were not required.

When the wagon reached Washington Street, Harry wanted to walk, for
the better prosecution of his object; and John gave him directions so
that he could find Major Phillips's stable, where he intended to put
up for the night.

Harry trotted along among the gay and genteel people that thronged the
sidewalk; but he was so earnest about his mission, that he could not
stop to look at their fine clothes, nor even at the pictures, the
gewgaws, and gimcracks that tempted him from the windows.

"'Boy wanted'" Harry read on a paper in the window of a jeweler's
shop. "Now's my time;" and, without pausing to consider the chances
that were against him, he entered the store.

"You want a boy--don't you?" asked he of a young man behind the
counter.

"We do," replied the person addressed, looking at the applicant with a
broad grin on his face.

"I should like to hire out," continued Harry, with an earnestness that
would have secured the attention of any man but an idiot.

"Do you? Your name is Joseph--isn't it?"

"No, sir; my name is Harry West."

"O, I thought it was Joseph. The Book says he had a coat of many
colors, though I believe it don't say anything about the trousers,"
sneered the shopkeeper.

"Never mind the coat or the trousers. If you want to hire a boy, I
will do the best I can for you," replied Harry, willing to appreciate
the joke of the other, if he could get a place.

"You won't answer for us; you come from the country."

"I did."

"What did you come to Boston for?"

"After work."

"You had better go back, and let yourself to some farmer. You will
make a good scarecrow to hang up in the field. No crow would ever come
near you, I'll warrant."

Harry's blood boiled with indignation at this gratuitous i