“Larry,” said he, “I’m after havin’ great call from the mills above in Kensington, as ye know. Sure the bell av me telyphone’s jingling all the God’s blessed day, an’ I have the divil’s own job gittin’ me teams up there in time. Yesterday I bought six pair av the foinest jacks yez iver laid eyes on, an’ five trucks as good as new; I have rinted the back room av Kavanaugh’s on the Frankford road as an up-town branch; an’ it’s yezsilf I want till take charge av it. The work will be asey an’ genteel an’ I’ll pay yez twinty dollars a week.” After a moment’s sober thought Larry had replied: “The job’s a cinch, an’ the money’s good; but, say, Pat, how do youse t’ink I’ll size up to the work? I can’t write a’tall an’ on’y kin read a little.” “Now God forgi’mine for an ijit!” exclaimed Shannon. “Sure an I niver wanst thought av that. That puts an end till it, Larry; the work is beyant yez, b’y.” Larry understood this and felt it keenly. He endeavoured to convey an impression of carelessness; but Shannon was not deceived. “Common since’ll tell yez, Larry,” said he, kindly, “that the man that takes howld av me up-town branch must have a bit av larnin’. Give up runnin’ wid the gang, lad, an’ go till the night school.” Larry paid very little attention to what the boss was saying; he was wrestling with the bitterness within him. But that night, as he was crossing the railroad on his way to the club, he noticed that a broad shaft of light flowed from each window of the old Harrison School, and then Shannon’s words came back to him. A group of boys were skylarking in the entry where a single gas light flared redly in the gloom. “Night school?” inquired he of one of these. “Sure,” answered the boy. “Started last week.” His mind was made up in an instant, and he started up the stairs toward the principal’s room. But with his hand upon the door knob, he paused. What would the gang say when they heard? He pictured himself standing in the midst of them, an object of derision; he saw two of them meet upon the street and heard the laugh that greeted the words, “Larry Murphy’s goin’ to school, like a kid.” But he drove these visions from him, muttering: “If they kid me, there’ll be somethin’ broke, that’s all!” He half expected the principal to laugh when he stated his business; but, on the contrary, that gentleman seemed to regard the matter approvingly; this made Larry feel better, and he entered the schoolroom indicated with scarcely a tremor. A number of young men of his own age sat at the little desks, handling the spelling books with pathetic care. There were two teachers in the room, flitting helpfully from desk to desk; no one noticed Larry and he slid into a vacant seat, and awaited developments.