"Now, gentlemen," said General Smith, "before the ballots are opened and counted, I wish to ask: Is this vote to be considered regular and formal? Shall we stand by the result?" "Certainly, certainly," said the trustees in chorus. "Count the ballots!" said the Elder. The hat was lifted and the count began. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven--for Mary Ogden," said Elder Holloway calmly. "I declare!" said General Smith. "Unanimous? Why, gentlemen, we were agreed! There really was no difference of opinion whatever." "I'm glad she is such a favorite," said Judge Edwards; "but we can't raise the salary on that account. It'll have to remain at forty dollars a month." "I'm glad she's got it!" said Mr. Murdoch. "And a unanimous vote is a high testimonial!" And so Mary was elected. Each of them had other business to attend to, and it was not until Judge Edwards went home, at noon, that the news was known to Mary, for the Judge carried the pleasant tidings to Mary Ogden at the dinner-table. "Oh, Judge Edwards!" exclaimed Mary, turning pale. "I? At my age--to be assistant principal of the academy?" "There's only the Primary Department to teach," said the Judge encouragingly. "Not half so hard as that big, overgrown Sunday-school class. Only it never had a good teacher yet, and you'll have hard work to get it into order." "What will they say in Crofield!" said Mary uneasily. "They'll say I'm not fit for it." "I'm sure Miss Glidden will not," said Mrs. Edwards, proudly. "I'm glad it was unanimous. It shows what they all thought of you." Perhaps it did; but perhaps it was as well for Mary Ogden's temper that she could not hear all that was said when the other trustees went home to announce their action. It was a great hour for Mary, but her brother Jack was at that same time beginning to think that New York City was united against him,--a million and a half to one. He had been fairly turned out of the last store he had entered. CHAPTER XVI. JACK'S FAMINE. At Crofield, the morning mail brought a letter from Mary, telling of her election. There was not so very much comment, but Mrs. Ogden cried a little, and said: "I feel as if we were beginning to lose the children." "I must go to work," said the tall blacksmith after a time; "but I don't feel like it. So Mary's to teach, is she? She seems very young. I wish I knew about Jack." Meanwhile, poor Jack was half hopelessly inquiring, of man after man, whether or not another boy was wanted in his store. It was only one long, flat, monotony of "No, sir," and at last he once more turned his weary footsteps up-town, and hardly had he done so before he waked up a little and stood still, and looked around him. "Hullo!" he exclaimed, "I never was here before. This must be Chatham Square and the Bowery. I've read about them in the guide-book. I can go home this way. It's not much like Broadway."