"Yes, my boy," said a lady, who was near enough to hear him; "so they were. So were all the presidents, and some went barefoot and lived in log-cabins." "Well, I've often gone barefoot," said Jack, laughing. "Many boys go barefoot, but they can't all become governors," she said, pleasantly. She looked at Jack for a moment, and then said with a smile, "You look like a bright young man, though. Do you suppose you could ever be Governor?" "Perhaps I could," he said. "It can't be harder to learn than any other business." The lady laughed, and her friends laughed, and Jack arose from the Speaker's chair and walked away. He had seen enough of that vast State House. It wearied him, there was so much of it, and it was so fine. "To build this house cost twenty tons of gold!" he said, as he went out through the lofty doorway. "I wish I had some of it. I've kept my nine dollars yet, anyway. The Governor's right. I don't know what he meant, but I'll never be just the same fellow again." It was so. But it was not merely seeing the Capitol that had changed him. He was changing from a boy who had never seen anything outside of Crofield and Mertonville, into a boy who was walking right out into the world to learn what is in it. "I'll go to the hotel and write to father and mother," he said; "and I have something to tell them." It was the first real letter he had ever written, and it seemed a great thing to do--ten times more important than writing a composition, and almost equal to editing the _Eagle_. "I'll just put in everything," he thought, "just as it came along, and they'll know what I've been doing." It took a long time to write the letter, but it was done at last, and when he put down his pen he exclaimed: "Hard work always makes me hungry! I wonder if it isn't dinner-time? They said it was always dinner-time here after twelve o'clock. I'll go see." It was long after twelve when he went down to the office to stamp and mail his letter. "Mr. Ogden," said the clerk, giving Jack an envelope, "here's a note from Mr. Magruder. He left--" "Ogden," said a deep, full voice just behind him, "didn't you stay there too long? I am told you sat in the Speaker's chair." Jack wheeled about, blushing crimson. The Governor was not standing still, but was walking steadily through the office, surrounded by a group of dignified men. It was necessary to walk with them in order to reply to the question, and Jack did so. "I sat there half a minute," he answered. "I hope it didn't hurt me." "I'm glad you got out so soon, Jack," replied the Governor approvingly. "But I heard also that you think of learning the Governor business," went on the great man. "Now, don't you do it. It is not large pay, and you'd be out of work most of the time. Be a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or a tailor, or a printer."