The sweeping done, Pat waited for the little dust that was flying to settle. Then he walked to the front end of the store and began to unhook the dust curtains. Very gingerly he took hold of them, being careful to disturb them as little as possible. Mr. Farnham and the girl clerk watched him. Every other boy had jerked them down and chucked them under the counter in a jiffy. Out went Pat with them to the rear door, gave them a vigorous shaking, brought them back, folded them quickly and neatly, and then, turning to Mr. Farnham said, "Where will you have 'em, sir?" In silence Mr. Farnham pointed out a place, and then handed him a feather duster, showing him, at the same time, how to fleck the dust off the edges of the bolts of goods along the shelves, and also off the counter. "This thing's no good for the glass show cases, sir. I'd ought to have a soft cloth. Something to take the dust up with, sir." The merchant turned to the girl clerk. "Cut him off a square of cheesecloth, Miss Emlin, please," he said. [Illustration: "The merchant turned to the girl clerk."] "Ordinary boy!" exclaimed Mr. Farnham to himself and thinking of the General. "I should say he wasn't. But cleaning up a store and selling goods are two different things." It was a very small place that was given to Pat in the store that day--just the calicoes, ginghams, and muslins. And Pat was dissatisfied. "'Tisn't much of a chance I've got," he murmured to himself. "Gingham--that's for aprons, and calico--that's for dresses, and muslin--that's for a lot of things. Maybe I'll sell something. But it looks as if I'd be doin' nothin', that's what it does." He thought of the home folks and how his mother's mind would be ever upon him during this his first important day. "Maybe I'm a bit like little Jim--wantin' to do what I can't do. Maybe geese are my size," and he smiled. "Well, then I'll tend to my geese and tend 'em good, so I will." He began emptying his calico tables upon the counter. Mr. Farnham saw him from the desk, and walked that way at once. "What's the matter, Pat?" he inquired. "Sure I'm just gettin' acquainted with the goods, sir. I was thinkin' I could sell better, if I knew what I'd got. I'll put 'em back, sir, when I've looked 'em over." And entirely satisfied with his newest clerk, though Pat did not suspect it, Mr. Farnham returned to his writing. Pat had often noticed and admired the way in which the dry goods clerks ran off a length of goods, gathered it in folds, and held it up before the customer. "If I thought nobody was lookin', I'd try it, so I would," he said to himself.