"He turned up his nose at the idea. He thinks he ought to become a merchant or a professional man like me. He is too proud to be a blacksmith." "Then he must put his pride in his pocket. It will be all I can do to pay the expenses of your education. I can't provide for two boys." "When Kit is off your hands won't you increase my allowance, father?" asked Ralph, insinuatingly. "Suppose we postpone that matter," replied Mr. Watson, in a tone of voice that was not encouraging. "I have lost some money lately, and I can't do anything more for you just at present." Ralph looked disappointed, but did not venture to press the subject. "Where have you been, Kit?" he asked, as he saw his cousin entering the gate, and coming up the path to the front door. "I have been taking a walk," answered Kit, cheerfully. "It's a good idea to rise early." "Why?" "Because you will probably be required to do so in your new place." "What new place?" "At the blacksmith's." Kit smiled. To Ralph's surprise he did not appear to be annoyed. "I see you are getting reconciled to the idea. Last evening you seemed to dislike it." "Your father has not said anything about it to me." "He will very soon." "Won't you come round and see me occasionally, Ralph?" asked Kit, with a curious smile. "Yes; I may call on Saturday. I should like to see how you look." Kit smiled again. He thought it extremely doubtful whether Ralph would see him at the blacksmith's forge. Half an hour after breakfast, while Ralph and Kit were in the stable, the sound of wheels was heard, and a stout, broad-shouldered man, with a bronzed complexion, drove up in a farm wagon. Throwing his reins over the horse's neck, he descended from the wagon, and turned in at the gate. Mr. Watson, who had been sitting at the front window, opened the door for him. "Glad to see you, Mr. Bickford," he said. "Is the boy ready?" asked the blacksmith. "I can take him right over with me this morning." "Come into the house, I will send for him." Mr. Bickford noticed the handsome appearance of the hall, and the front room, the door of which was partly open, and said: "If the boy's been used to livin' here, he must be kind of high strung. I can't give him no such home as this." "Of course not, Mr. Bickford. He can't expect it. He's a poor boy, and will have to make his own way in the world. Beggars can't be choosers, you know." A servant was sent to the stable to summon Kit. Ralph, who thought he should enjoy the scene, accompanied him. Kit regarded the blacksmith with some curiosity. "This is Mr. Aaron Bickford, of Oakford, Kit," began his uncle. "I hope you are well, Mr. Bickford," said Kit, politely. The blacksmith gazed at Kit with earnest scrutiny. "Humph!" said he; "are you strong and muscular?" "Pretty fair," answered Kit, with a smile.