Your affectionate uncle, JACOB MARLOWE. "I am to go to New York!" thought Bert joyfully. "Perhaps Uncle Jacob will find me a place there. I shall enjoy that ever so much. Let me see, I am to go next week, Thursday, and it is now Saturday. I wish the time had come!" Of course, Bert carried the letter home and showed it to his mother. "How kind Uncle Jacob is!" she murmured. "But I am afraid he is too generous. He is a poor man. He cannot afford to be giving us money all the time." "He is earning a good salary, you know, mother." "Only twelve dollars a week, Bert." "But that is a good deal. If I were earning twelve dollars a week I should feel rich." "It doesn't go very far in a large and expensive city like New York." "I could save half of it, if I had it. Would you mind much, mother, if I should take a place in New York?" "It would be terribly lonely for me, Bert," sighed Mrs. Barton. "But you would not oppose it?" "Not if your Uncle Jacob thought it best. He seems to be our only friend just now." "Yes; I don't know what we should have done without him." On Monday morning, considerably to his surprise, Bert received an offer of employment. About a mile from his mother's cottage lived Silas Wilson, an old farmer about sixty years of age, who had the reputation of being one of the meanest men in Lakeville. Even his horses and cows had a hungry look, and it was easy to see that they were not pampered or injured by over-feeding. This was the man who stopped his farm wagon in front of Mrs. Barton's dwelling, and spoke to Bert, who was just coming out of the front door. "Here, you, Bert Barton!" "Good-morning, Mr. Wilson," replied Bert. "Squire Marlowe tells me you are out of a job." "Yes, sir." "And I've been thinkin' I could give you work on my farm." Bert was not overjoyed at this announcement, but he felt that he ought to take into consideration any offer that might be made to him. "Would you expect me to board at your house?" he asked. "Sartin! All my boys board with me." "How much wages would you be willing to pay?" "Fifty cents a week and board. I calculate that would be about right." "Fifty cents a week and board?" repeated Bert, by no means dazzled by the tempting offer. "Yes. What do you say?" "I shouldn't be willing to work for that." "You wouldn't, hey? What did you get in the shoe shop?" "Four dollars a week." "Board's worth that, so I give you what's equal to four dollars and a half." Bert had heard something of the kind of board supplied by the farmer, and he was hardly prepared to rate it so high. "It wouldn't be worth that to me," he said. "I would rather work for three dollars and a half in cash, and board at home." "I've got to have my boy in the house," said Silas Wilson decidedly. "Come, now, what do you say?"