For three years Hal had been trying to decide what should be his business in life; and now at the age of fifteen, and in his last school year, he was as far as ever from any fixed plan. A profession, he argued, required too much study; a trade meant ten hours a day of hard labor; he was too old for an office-boy; and he had no capital to put into business. Well, if he could only even find out now for what he was fitted, it would save time in the end. "How do people ever sit still and think!" he exclaimed aloud. "I'll go over and consult Ned." Ned was two years his senior. He had started in life with the idea of being a doctor, and had kept to it. Consequently he had little sympathy with Hal's vagaries, and often chided him for his lack of definite purpose. But as Hal's well-known war-whoop sounded under the window, he came out on his steps. "What's up?" he asked. "You look as black as a thunder cloud." "Father says I've got to make up my mind what to do, and that if I don't he'll do it for me," answered Hal laconically, "and that might not suit, you know." "I told you it would come to that if you did not look sharp," answered Ned. "Take my advice now. A boy like you better begin with a trade and work up to be boss mechanic; then when you are rich, buy a library and turn scholar. There's a swell carpenter's school just started down at the Institute, box and tools included in the tuition, so you'll have some property at the end of the term, if you haven't ideas." "I had thought of being a physicist, or chemist," replied Hal; "but carpentering is really more in my line; might try it at least. Suppose I talk it over at home." "You better," said Ned, "than keep me out here bareheaded; good-by!" "Much obliged and good-by," called out Hal, as he turned homewards. It did not take long to obtain his parents' consent, as they hoped they saw in this definite wish an earnest of practical ability which would help them and him to decide the question of what he had better do. He had owned one or two carpenter's chests and had broken several tools, so that he knew something about their use which would count in the beginning. Hal's pride suffered, however, when at the Institute he had to learn how to strike square blows, and to practise the wrist, elbow and shoulder movement, in striking with light tools. Then, too, he had to submit to be taught how to drive nails just so many inches apart, exactly as if he had never hammered before. He was as indignant, also, at being told to neither split nor cut towards himself, as if he had never hurt his jacket. At last he was permitted to begin to make a picture frame. Its four sides had to be glued and dovetailed together, and the fitting required careful measurements. As Hal was too anxious to go ahead to attend to details, it is not surprising that the sides would not meet. The more he planed and chiselled, the worse it grew, till in despair he took it home for kindling wood.