Glen's real father could
be, provided he were alive; and if, by any strange chance, he and his
son would ever meet and know each other. Mr. Hobart did not think it at
all likely they ever would. From this the boy was led to tell of his
dislike for study, and into what trouble it had led him. He even told of
the decision reached by his adopted father and himself the evening
before, and the undesirable choice of work that had been presented to
him.

"And so you don't think you would fancy either the mill or the store?"
asked Mr. Hobart.

"No, sir, I do not. Each one, when I think of it, seems worse than the
other, and they both seem worse than most anything else."

"Worse than studying?"

"Just as bad, because either of them means being shut up, and I hate to
stay in the house. I should like some business that would keep me
out-of-doors all the time."

"Ploughing, for instance, or driving a horse-car, or digging clams, or
civil-engineering, or something nice and easy, like any of those?"
suggested Mr. Hobart, gravely.

"Civil-engineering is what I think I should like better than anything
else in the world!" exclaimed the boy, eagerly. "That's what you are,
isn't it, sir?"

"That is what I am trying to be," answered Mr. Hobart, smiling; "and if,
by years of hard work, hard study, and unceasing effort, I can reach a
generally recognized position as an engineer, I shall be satisfied with
my life's work."

"Do you have to study?" asked Glen, in amazement.

"Indeed I do," was the answer. "I have to study continually, and fully
as hard as any schoolboy of your acquaintance."

Glen looked incredulous. It is hard for a boy to realize that his school
is only the place where he is taught how to study, and that his most
important lessons will have to be learned after he leaves it.

"I think I should like to be a civil-engineer, anyhow," he remarked,
after a thoughtful pause, "because it is an out-of-door business."

"Yes," admitted the other, "it is to a great extent."

Then they found that Glen's clothing was dry enough to be worn, and also
that it was dinnertime. So, after Mr. Hobart had shaken hands with the
boy, and said he hoped to see him again before long, they separated.

That afternoon Glen, still wearing a perplexed expression on his usually
merry face, walked down to the mill and looked in at its open door. It
was so hot and dusty and noisy that he did not care to stay there very
long. He had been famil