“I must devote myself to business,” said Mr. McCarthy, when he had closed the book. “I will visit the leading villages in the county, and return as expeditiously as possible.” He glanced at me as if to note the effect of this impressive declaration. “Good luck; and remember here is always a good welcome,” my mother said to him, as he took the road to Heartsdale. BOOK TWO--IN WHICH CRICKET TAKES THE ROAD TO MANHOOD AND MEETS WITH SUNDRY MISHAPS STAGE I.--IN WHICH CRICKET COMES TO A QUEER STOPPING-PLACE ON THE ROAD TO MANHOOD [Illustration: 9157] R. PEARL had opened a little shop in Heartsdale. It was up an alley next to a large mill, where he could connect his shaft with river-power. A smooth board, lettered with his own brush and nailed above his door, contained the words: PEARL & COMPANY One bright, still morning in the early summer I walked to Heartsdale to begin my career anew. My mother wished me to be near home, and I was on my way to the shop of B. Crocket & Son, marble-cutters, who were making a monument for my father. They were going to teach me their trade. Heartsdale had always made me believe it very large and myself very little. Its buildings and its people had seemed to look down upon me from a great height. Now that I had been to Buffalo, that old feeling of awe and littleness had gone out of me and must be now, I believed, in the breast of Heartsdale itself, and I carried my head high. From the eminence of my conceit I got a full view of its languor and littleness. Even the river slowed its pace half a mile above and came on like a spent horse. Near the Mill House half a mile below it began to hurry, and always I had the stir of the rapids in me. Feet accustomed to the pace of the plow were going into town. The clink of an anvil broke the silence. I had often watched the great blacksmith as he worked. That clinking indicated the flow of his thought and the strength of his convictions. Words fell between hammer-strokes, and were often as hot as the beaten metal.