n.

"Well, Bog," said Mr. Minford, kindly, but condescendingly, "you are
just in time to hear good news. This gentleman has taken a partnership
in my invention (Mr. Minford thought it best to state the case that
way), and, with his assistance, I shall be able to complete it and bring
it before the public immediately."

"Glad to hear it, sir," answered the boy Bog, blushing hard, lifting his
eyes from the floor long enough to glance at Mr. Minford and his
daughter, and all the while slapping his knees vigorously.

"He is in the bill-posting business," said Mr. Minford to Marcus. "You
may have seen him at the head of his company of walking advertisers.
Ha! ha!"

Marcus remembered having seen that honest face, that thick head of hair,
and that identical cap, sticking out of the top of a portable wooden
frame covered with placards, setting forth the virtues of quack
medicines, the excellencies of dry goods, or the unequalled attractions
of concert saloons. He also remembered that this wooden frame was much
taller than any of the long procession of frames which followed it, and
that, from a hole in the right side thereof, protruded a fist about the
size of the boy Bog's, clutching a broomstick, with which the inmate
kept a semblance of order among the wilful and eccentric occupants of
the frames behind him. "Oh, yes; I have seen you very often, Bog. How
do you like the business?" said Marcus, pleasantly.

"Very well, sir, thank you," replied Bog, with his eyes still on the
floor, "'cept when the boys poke fun at us; 'cos we can't run after 'em
in them boxes, and wollop 'em. 'S rather hard, that." Bog caught Miss
Minford's eye as he concluded these remarks, and blushed till he
perspired, to think that he should have dropped such a brutal
observation in presence of that young lady.

Mr. Minford noticed the confusion of his young friend, and
unintentionally added to it, by saying:

"Bog is a good boy. By his industry, he earns eight or ten dollars a
week, not only supporting himself, but his aunt."

"Not this week, nor last week neither, Mr. Minford," said Bog, mopping
the modest sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his coat. "The
adv'tisin' line a'n't as good as't used to be. I only got three jobs
with my company the last fortnight, and nary cent of pay from any of
'em. Of course, all my boys had to be paid just the same."

"And you paid them?" asked Marcus.

"Certainly," said Bog.

"Then be good enough to acce