st
desirous, on all accounts, to be his pupil; and all I ventured to ask at
present was, that he would keep a place for me in his office, till I
could write to New Hampshire for proper letters showing me worthy of
it."

Mr. Gore listened to this speech very kindly, and then bade Daniel be
seated while he should have a short talk with him.

When at last the young man rose to go, Mr. Gore said: "My young friend,
you look as if you might be trusted. You say you came to study and not
to waste time. I will take you at your word. You may as well hang up
your hat at once."

And this was the beginning of Daniel Webster's career in Boston.

He must have done well in Mr. Gore's office; for, in a few months, he
was admitted to the practice of law in the Court of Common Pleas in
Boston.

It was at some time during this same winter that Daniel was offered the
position of clerk in the County Court at home. His father, as you will
remember, was one of the judges in this court, and he was very much
delighted at the thought that his son would be with him.

The salary would be about fifteen hundred dollars a year--and that was a
great sum to Daniel as well as to his father. The mortgage on the farm
could be paid off; Ezekiel could finish his course in college; and life
would be made easier for them all.

At first Daniel was as highly pleased as his father. But after he had
talked with Mr. Gore, he decided not to accept the offered position.

"Your prospects as a lawyer," said Mr. Gore, "are good enough to
encourage you to go on. Go on, and finish your studies. You are poor
enough, but there are greater evils than poverty. Live on no man's
favor. Pursue your profession; make yourself useful to your friends and
a little formidable to your enemies, and you have nothing to fear."

A few days after that, Daniel paid a visit to his father. The judge
received him very kindly, but he was greatly disappointed when the young
man told him that he had made up his mind not to take the place.

With his deep-set, flashing eyes, he looked at his son for a moment as
though in anger. Then he said, very slowly:

"Well, my son, your mother has always said that you would come to
something or nothing--she was not sure which. I think you are now about
settling that doubt for her."

A few weeks after this, Daniel, as I have already told you, was admitted
to the bar in Boston. But he did not think it best to begin his practice
there.

He knew ho