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poor Mrs. Bradford took it. "Don't you be too much worried. The Lord will provide."

      "I am afraid we shall all starve," thought Mrs. Bradford mournfully.

      She opened the shed door, and said: "Ben, is it true that you've lost your place at the mill?"

      "Yes, aunt," answered Ben. "Who told you?"

      "Old Mrs. Perkins. Why didn't you tell me before?"

      "There's no hurry about bad news, aunt."

      "I am afraid we'll all have to go to the poorhouse," said Aunt Jane, sighing.

      "Perhaps we may, but we'll see what else we can do first. Wait and

      Hope, aunt – that's my motto."

      Mrs. Bradford shook her heard mournfully.

      "I don't mind it so much for myself," she said; "but I can't help thinking of you and Tony."

      "Tony and I are coming out all right. There's lots of ways of making money, aunt. Just do as I do – 'Wait and Hope.'"

      Chapter II

Three Situations

      Before going further it may be as well to explain exactly how the Bradfords were situated. To begin with, they had no rent to pay. The small house in which they lived belonged to an old bachelor uncle of Mrs. Bradford, living in Montreal, and all they were required to do was to pay the taxes, which amounted to very little, not more than twelve dollars a year. Ben had earned at the factory five dollars a week, and his aunt averaged two. To some readers it may seem remarkable that three persons could live and clothe themselves on seven dollars a week; but Mrs. Bradford was a good manager, and had not found the problem a difficult one.

      Now, however, the question promised to become more difficult. If Ben found nothing to do, the family would be reduced to two dollars a week, and to live comfortably on that small sum might well appal the most skilful financier.

      Ben woke up early, and immediately began to consider the situation. His motto was "Wait and Hope"; but he knew very well that he must work while he was waiting and hoping, otherwise he would differ very little from the hopeful Micawber, who was always waiting for something to turn up.

      "Aunt Jane," he said, after a frugal breakfast, over which Mrs. Bradford presided with an uncommonly long face, "how much money have you got on hand? I want to know just how we stand."

      Mrs. Bradford opened her pocketbook with a sigh, and produced two one-dollar bills and thirty-seven cents in change.

      "There's only that between us and starvation," she said mournfully.

      "Well, that's something," said Ben cheerfully. "Isn't it, Tony?"

      "It's a lot of money," said the inexperienced Tony. "I never had so much in all my life."

      "There, somebody thinks you are rich, Aunt Jane," laughed Ben.

      "What should the poor child know of household expenses?" said

      Mrs. Bradford.

      "To be sure. Only we may get some money before that is used up.

      They owe me at the factory for half a week – two dollars and a half.

      I shall get it Saturday night. We won't starve for a week, you see."

      "Where are you going, Ben?" asked Tony; "won't you stay and play with me?"

      "I can't, Tony. I must go out, and see if I can find something to do."

      Milltown was something more than a village. In fact, it had been incorporated two years before as a city, having the requisite number of inhabitants. The main street was quite city-like, being lined with stores.

      "I wonder if I can't get a change in a store," thought Ben. So he made his way to the principal street, and entered the first store he came to – a large dry-goods store.

      Entering, he addressed himself to a small, thin man, with an aquiline nose, who seemed to have a keen scent for money.

      "What can I do for you, young man?" he asked, taking Ben for a customer.

      "Can you give me a place in your store?" asked Ben.

      The small man's expression changed instantly.

      "What do you know of the dry-goods trade?" he inquired.

      "Nothing at present, but I could learn," answered our hero.

      "Then, I'll make you an offer."

      Ben brightened up.

      "If you come into the store for nothing the first year, I'll give you two dollars a week the second."

      "Do you take me for a man of property?" asked Ben, disgusted.

      The small man replied with a shrill, creaking laugh, sounding like the grating of a rusty hinge.

      "Isn't that fair?" he asked. "You didn't expect to come in as partner first thing, did you?"

      "No, but I can't work for nothing."

      "Then – lemme see – I'll give you fifty cents a week for the first year, and you can take it out in goods."

      "No, thank you," answered Ben. "I couldn't afford it."

      As he went out of the store, he heard another grating laugh, and the remark: "That's the way to bluff 'em off. I offered him a place, and he wouldn't take it."

      Ben was at first indignant, but then his sense of humor got the better of his anger, and he said to himself: "Well, I've been offered a position, anyway, and that's something. Perhaps I shall have better luck at the next place."

      The next place happened to be a druggist's. The druggist, a tall man, with scanty black locks, was compounding some pills behind the counter.

      Ben was not bashful, and he advanced at once, and announced his business.

      "Don't you want a boy?" he asked.

      The druggist smiled.

      "I've got three at home," he answered. "I really don't think I should like to adopt another."

      "I'm not in the market for adoption," said Ben, smiling. "I want to get into some store to learn the business."

      "Have you any particular fancy for the druggist's business?" asked the apothecary.

      "No, sir, I can't say that I have."

      "I never took much, but enough to know that I don't like it."

      "Then I am afraid you wouldn't do for experiment clerk."

      "What's that?"

      "Oh, it his duty to try all the medicines, to make sure there are no wrong ingredients in them – poison, for instance."

      "I am afraid I shouldn't like that," said Ben.

      "You don't know till you've tried. Here's a pill now. Suppose you take that, and tell me how you like it."

      The druggist extended to Ben a nauseous-looking pill, nearly as large as a bullet. He had made it extra large, for Ben's special case.

      "No, I thank you," said Ben, with a contortion of the face; "I know I wouldn't do for experiment clerk. Don't you need any other clerk? Couldn't I learn to mix medicines?"

      "Well, you see, there would be danger at first – to the customers, I mean. You might poison somebody, and then I would be liable for damages. If you will get somebody to sign a bond, forfeiting ten thousand dollars in any such case, I might consider your application."

      "I don't think I could find any such person," said Ben.

      "Then I am afraid I can't employ you. You are quite sure you don't want to be experiment clerk?"

      "And swallow your medicines? I guess not. Good morning."

      "Good morning. If you want any pills, you will know where to come."

      "I would rather go where they make 'em smaller," said Ben.

      Ben and the druggist both laughed, and the former left the shop.

      "That's the second situation I have been offered today," soliloquized our hero. "They were not very

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