And with this charitable observation, Joe resumed his labors. Harry finished his meal, washed it down with a draught of cold water at the pump, and was ready for business again. Unfortunately, there was no business ready for him. All day long he wandered about the streets in search of employment; but people did not appreciate his value. No one would hire him or have anything to do with him. The five patches on his clothes, he soon discovered, rendered it useless for him to apply at the stores. He was not in a condition to be tolerated about one of these; and he turned his attention to the market, the stables, and the teaming establishments, yet with no better success. It was in vain that he tried again; and at night, weary and dispirited, he returned to Major Phillips's stable. His commissariat was not yet exhausted; and he made a hearty supper from the basket. It became an interesting question for him to consider how he should pass the night. He could not afford to pay one of his quarters for a night's lodging at the tavern opposite. There was the stable, however, if he could get permission to sleep there. "May I sleep in the hay loft, Joe?" he asked, as the ostler passed him. "Major Phillips don't allow any one to sleep in the hay loft; but perhaps he will let you sleep there. He was asking about you to-day." "How should he know anything about me?" said Harry, not a little surprised to find his fame had gone before him. "He heard about the pocketbook, and wanted to see you. He said it was the meanest thing he ever heard of, that the man who lost it didn't give you anything; and them's my sentiments exactly. Here comes the major; I will speak to him about you." "Thank you, Joe." "Major Phillips, this boy wants to know if he may sleep in the hay loft to-night." "No," replied the stable keeper, short as pie crust. "This is the boy that found the pocketbook, and he hain't got no place to sleep." "O, is it? Then I will find a place for him to sleep. So, my boy, you are an honest fellow." "I try to be," replied Harry, modestly. "If you had kept the pocketbook you might have lodged at the Tremont House." "I had rather sleep in your stable, without it." "Squire Walker was mean not to give you a ten-dollar bill. What are you going to do with yourself?" "I want to get work; perhaps you have got something for me to do. I am used to horses." "Well, I don't know as I have." Major Phillips was a great fat man, rough, vulgar, and profane in his conversation; but he had a kind of sympathizing nature. Though he swore like a pirate sometimes, his heart was in the right place, so far as humanity was concerned. He took Harry into the counting room of the stable, and questioned him in regard to his past history and future prospects. The latter, however, were just now rather clouded. He told the major his experience in trying to get something to do, and was afraid he should not find a place.