Anxiously he waited for January the second. He started off early that morning, taking some lunch with him, as he found he could get scarcely anything to eat in a restaurant for the money he could afford to pay. He bought a paper, and turned to the column “Help Wanted.” “Let’s see what firm offers boys the highest wages,” he said. “That’s what I’m looking for.” He saw several advertisements that seemed to offer a good chance, but Tom was at this disadvantage--he had to walk to the places, for he could not afford car fare. In this way he arrived too late in a number of cases, the positions having been filled just before he presented himself. “I must pick out the places that are nearest by,” he decided, and he went over the list again. He selected an advertisement of a firm on Tremont Street, that wanted a boy to assist in packing. Tom found it was a big crockery store. “Have you had any experience in packing?” asked the manager, to whom, after inquiring of several clerks, he was referred. “We moved once, and I helped them,” said Tom, wondering what sort of packing was done in the place. “No, I’m afraid that would hardly do,” was the answer. “We want a boy who has had experience in packing dishes.” “I think I could learn,” spoke the boy eagerly. “I’m afraid we couldn’t risk it. Our dishes are very valuable, and if a boy broke one or two it would amount to more than his wages. We require experienced help.” “Couldn’t I learn by beginning to pack heavy dishes, that wouldn’t break so easily, if I happened to drop one?” asked Tom. “No, I’m afraid not.” Tom wondered how a boy was ever going to get experience packing fine dishes, if he never had any practice on heavy ones, but he did not think it would do any good to ask the manager, so he left. At the next place a boy was wanted to run errands, but as the wages were only two dollars a week, Tom knew he could not afford to take it, for he would hardly make his expenses. Then he saw an advertisement of a boy wanted in a machine shop. “That might do,” he mused. “I’m fond of machinery, and I often used to go to the shop where father worked.” “We want a boy to learn the trade,” said the foreman of the shop where Tom applied, and where the machinery made so much noise that every one had to shout to be heard. “It’s a good trade, and you can earn good wages at it.” “How much do you pay?” asked Tom. “Pay? We don’t pay anything the first year,” answered the foreman, in apparent surprise at the question. “I thought you wanted to learn the trade.” “I’d like to,” said Tom, “but I want to live while I’m learning it. A trade wouldn’t do me much good if I starved to death, and I’d do that if I didn’t get some money.” “I guess you won’t suit,” was the comment, as the foreman turned back to the lathe which he had stopped while he talked to Tom. “No, I guess not,” was our hero’s comment.