“Coming on finely, isn't it?” asked Mr. Nicholas Benton, complacently. “Yes,” said Paul, rather doubtfully. “I don't mind letting you into a secret,” said Benton, affably, “if you won't mention it. I've been using some of the six weeks' stuff.” “The what?” asked Paul, opening his eyes. “Haven't you heard of it?” inquired Benton, a little contemptuously. “Where have you been living all your life? Haven't you seen it advertised,--warranted to produce a full set of whiskers or moustaches upon the smoothest face, etc. I got some a week ago, only a dollar. Five weeks from now you'll see something that'll astonish you.” Paul was not a little amused by his new companion, and would have laughed, but that he feared to offend him. “You'd better get some,” said Mr. Benton. “I'll let you just try mine once, if you want to.” “Thank you,” said Paul; “I don't think I want to have a moustache just yet.” “Well, perhaps you're right. Being a boy, perhaps it wouldn't be advisable.” “When does Mr. Smith come in?” “Not till nine.” “And the other clerks?” “About eight o'clock. I shan't come till eight, to-morrow morning.” “There's one thing I should like to ask you,” said Paul. “Of course you won't answer unless you like.” “Out with it.” “How much does Mr. Smith pay you?” “Ahem!” said Benton, “what does he pay you?” “A dollar and a quarter a week.” “He paid me a dollar and a half to begin with.” “Did he? He wanted me to come first at a dollar.” “Just like him. Didn't I tell you he was an out and outer? He'll be sure to take you in if you will let him.” “But,” said Paul, anxiously, “he said he'd raise it in a month or two.” “He won't offer to; you'll have to tease him. And then how much'll he raise it? Not more than a quarter. How much do you think I get now?” “How long have you been here?” “A year and a half.” “Five dollars a week,” guessed Paul. “Five! he only gives me two and a half. That is, he hasn't been paying me but that. Now, of course, he'll raise, as I've been promoted.” “How much do you expect to get now?” “Maybe four dollars, and I'm worth ten any day. He's a mean old skinflint, Smith is.” This glimpse at his own prospects did not tend to make Paul feel very comfortable. He could not repress a sigh of disappointment when he thought of this mortifying termination of all his brilliant prospects. He had long nourished the hope of being able to repay the good sexton for his outlay in his behalf, besides discharging the debt which his father had left behind him. Now there seemed to be little prospect of either. He had half a mind to resign his place immediately upon the entrance of Mr. Smith, but two considerations dissuaded him; one, that the sum which he was to receive, though small, would at least buy his clothes, and besides, he was not at all certain of obtaining another situation. With a sigh, therefore, he went about his duties.