“I suppose you've noticed that I can sling some rather big words,” he remarked, presently. “Well, I always carry a pocket dictionary, an' when I hear a word I like I look it up an' chalk it down in my note-book; helps my conversation. I study it a good deal while I'm travelling. Ye see, I never had a chance to go to school much--just learnt how to read an' write an' cipher a little. My knowledge ain't very superior. Now, that's quite a word--superior. How does it sound?” “All right,” I answered. “Never used it before--found it in the book to-day. I've got about forty dollars saved, an' I've learnt thirty new words so 't I can use 'em. When I go home by-an'-by they've got to look up to me.” The oddness of it all was not lost upon me, young as I was. I think often of the frankness of that young son of America, just beginning to feel his way upward from the plane of lowly poverty and of his kindly heart. I dreamed not then of what he was to do in the world. “Come into this house with me,” said Mr. McCarthy. “I'll give ye an exposition--ahem! that's one o' my new ones. Pretty fair kind of a farm-house. Wouldn't wonder if there was some old silver in it.” He led me to the front door of a big, square, old country mansion. A maid opened the door and asked to know our business. Mr. McCarthy removed his hat and bowed. “Will you please communicate with the lady of the house,” said he, “an' tell her that I am selling Sal? Kindly inform her that Sal cleans silverware, glassware, gold, brass, and pewter; removes dirt from woodwork, and makes the home bright and beautiful. If you've any old silver I'd like to show ye what it 'll do.” The maid brought him a tarnished tea-pot, and McCarthy went to work and soon made it glow like a drop of dew in the sunlight. The maid took it to her mistress, and returned presently with fifty cents to be invested in Sal. “I just wanted to show ye what Sal can do,” said Mr. McCarthy, as we went away. “Ye got to believe what ye say or ye can't sell anything. Make yourself believe in it, an' you'll succeed.” We came presently to four corners in the road, where my new friend bade me sit down with him. He consulted his note-book. “Here,” said he, “are Jehoshaphat Corners. The straight road goes to Canaan, Waterville, and Van Kleek's Huddle; the left to Putney, Porridgeville, and Lawrence. You take one road an' I'll take the other, an' four weeks from now we could meet an' settle up at Graham's Hotel in Buffalo. It's only a dollar a day there. Here, I'll lend ye fifty cents; it 'll help some till ye get a-going.” “You're very kind, and I thank you for it.” “Don't mention it,” said he. “It's no more than any gentleman would do.” So we parted there, and I took the straight road and he turned to the left. ADVENTURE VI.--IN WHICH CRICKET HAS SUNDRY EXPERIENCES [Illustration: 9075]