Harry looked at his visitor with astonishment; he did not know what to make of him. Was he in earnest? Would a son of Joseph Flint go out to ride--on Sunday, too--while his mother and his brothers and sisters were on the very brink of starvation? Our hero had some strange, old-fashioned notions of his own. For instance, he considered it a son's duty to take care of his mother, even if he were obliged to forego the Sunday ride; that he ought to do all he could for his brothers and sisters, even if he had to go without stewed oysters, stay away from the theatre, and perhaps wear a little coarser cloth on his back. If Harry was unreasonable in his views, my young reader will remember that he was brought up in the country, where young America is not quite so "fast" as in the city. "I didn't ask you to pay me," continued Harry. "I know that; but, you see, I suppose I ought to pay you. The old man don't take much care of the family." Harry wanted to say that the young man did not appear to do much better; but he was disposed to be as civil as the circumstances would permit. "You needn't pay me." "Oh, yes, I shall pay you; but if you can wait till the first of next month, I should like it." "I can wait. Do you live out?" "Live out? What do you mean by that? I am a clerk in a store downtown," replied Edward, with offended dignity. "Oh, are you? Do they pay you well?" "Pretty fair; I get five dollars a week." "Five dollars a week! Thunder! I should think you did get paid pretty well!" exclaimed Harry, astonished at the vastness of the sum for a week's work. "Fair salary," added Edward, complacently. "What are you doing here?" "I work in the stable and about the house." "That's mean business," said Mr. Flint, turning up his nose. "It does very well." "How much do you get?" "Six dollars a month and perquisites." "How much are the perquisites?" "From one to two dollars a month." "Humph! I wonder you stay here." "It is as well as I can do." "No, it isn't; why don't you go into a store? We want a boy in our store." "Do you?" "We do." "How much do you pay?" "We pay from two to four dollars a week." "Can't you get me the place?" asked Harry, now much interested in his companion. "Well, yes; perhaps I can." "What should I have to do?" "Make the fires, sweep out in the morning, go on errands, and such work. Boys must begin at the foot of the ladder. I began at the foot of the ladder," answered Mr. Flint, with an immense self-sufficiency, which Harry, however, failed to notice. "I should like to get into a store." "You will have a good chance to rise." "I am willing to do anything, so that I can have a chance to get ahead." "We always give boys a good chance." Harry wanted that mysterious "we" defined. As it was, he was left to infer that Mr. Flint was a partner in the concern, unless the five dollars per week was an argument to the contrary; but he didn't like to ask strange questions, and desired to know whom "he worked for."