me, that is, the little of it he had ever known,
but he disliked speaking of it, and perhaps he was right.

So he just "made himself scarce" till bedtime, and never said a word
to anybody until his mother came into the boys' room to bid them
good-night. There were three of them, but all were asleep except Donald.
As his mother bent down to kiss him, he put both arms round her neck.

"Mother, I'm going to begin to-morrow."

"Begin what, my son?"

"Facing the world, as you said I must. I can't go to school again, so I
mean to try and earn my own living."

"How?"

"I don't quite know, but I'll try. There are several things I could be,
a clerk--or even a message-boy. I shouldn't like it, but I'd do anything
rather than do nothing."

Mrs. Boyd sat down on the side of the bed. If she felt inclined to cry
she had too much sense to show it. She only took firm hold of her boy's
hand, and waited for him to speak on.

"I've been thinking, mother, I was to have a new suit at Christmas;
will you give it now? And let it be a coat, not a jacket. I'm tall
enough--five feet seven last month, and growing still; I should look
almost a man. Then I would go round to every office in Edinburgh and ask
if they wanted a clerk. I wouldn't mind taking anything to begin with.
And I can write a decent hand, and I'm not bad at figures; as for my
Latin and Greek--"

Here Donald gulped down a sigh, for he was a capital classic, and it had
been suggested that he should go to Glasgow University and try for "the
Snell" which has sent so many clever young Scotsmen to Balliol College,
Oxford, and thence on to fame and prosperity. But alas! no college
career was now possible to Donald Boyd. The best he could hope for was
to earn a few shillings a week as a common clerk. He knew this, and so
did his mother. But they never complained. It was no fault of theirs,
nor of anybody's. It was just as they devoutly called it, "The will of
God."

"Your Latin and Greek may come in some day, my boy," said Mrs. Boyd
cheerfully. "Good work is never lost. In the meantime, your plan is a
good one, and you shall have your new clothes at once. Then, do as you
think best."

"All right; good-night, mother," said Donald, and in five minutes more
was fast asleep.

But, though he was much given to sleeping of nights--indeed, he never
remembered lying awake for a single hour in his life--during daytime
there never was a more "wide awake" boy than Donald Boyd. He kep