to suit themselves, 'cause I have resigned. I have gone into business. Don't you smell anything that would lead you to surmise that I had gone into business? No drugstore this time,” and the boy got up and put his thumbs in the armholes of his vest, and looked proud. “O, I don't know as I smell anything except the faint odor of a horse blanket. What you gone into anyway?” and the grocery man put the wrapping paper under the counter, and put the red chalk in his pocket, so the boy couldn't write any sign to hang up outside. “You hit it the first time I have accepted a situation of teller in a livery stable,” said the boy, as he searched around for the barrel of cut sugar, which had been removed. “Teller in a livery stable! Well that is a new one on me. What is a teller in a livery stable?” and the grocery man looked pleased, and pointed the boy to a barrel of seven cent sugar. “Don't you know what a teller is in a livery stable? It is the same as a teller in a bank. I have to grease the harness, oil the buggies, and curry off the horses, and when a man comes in to hire a horse I have to go down to the saloon and tell the livery man. That's what a teller is. I like the teller part of it; but greasing harness is a little too rich for my blood, but the livery man says if I stick to it I will be governor some day, 'cause most all the great men have begun life taking care of horses. It all depends on my girl whether I stick or not. If she likes the smell of horses I shall be a statesman, but if she objects to it and sticks up her nose, I shall not yearn to be governor, at the expense of my girl. It beats all, don't it, that wimmen settle every great question. Everybody does everything to please wimmen, and if they kick on anything that settles it. But I must go and umpire that game between Pa, and the hired girl, and the goat. Say, can't you come over and see the baby? 'Taint bigger than a small satchel,” and the boy waited till the grocery man went to draw some vinegar, when he slipped out and put up a sign written on a shingle with white chalk: YELLOW SAND WANTED FOR MAPLE SUGAR. CHAPTER IX. A FUNERAL PROCESSION--THE BAD BOY ON CRUTCHES--“YOU OUGHT TO SEE THE MINISTER!”--AN ELEVEN DOLLAR FUNERAL--THE MINISTER TAKES THE LINES--AN EARTHQUAKE--AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE WAS OVER--THE POLICEMAN FANS THE MINISTER--A MINISTER SHOULD HAVE SENSE.