"My name is Fred Worthington." "Fred Worthington, d'ye say?" "Yes, sir." "I s'pose yer father's the cobbler?" "He has a shoe shop, sir." "Be you the chap I heerd them men speakin' of as stole some money?" said Hanks, with a fiendish grin, which revealed two upper front teeth that seemed long because they alone guarded that portion of his mouth. They had been in use so many years, or had been so poorly treated, that they were loose, and rattled together. "Perhaps they referred to me, sir," retorted Fred with dignity, "but they had no right to accuse me of stealing." "Yis, yis; that's how such allers talks. But I guess thar ain't nothin' here fer yer to git yer hands on to, 'ceptin' work--I'll see't yer ain't sufferin' fer that." "Very well, sir; I came here to work." "I s'pose ye're perty strong, ain't yer?" "I'm strong enough for a boy." "Glad yer are, fer yer can do the liftin' work an' help Carl there. He ain't good for much, any way. Tim Short used ter shirk on him 'ceptin' when I knowed it, an'---- Hey! here she goes!" (as the machinery suddenly started). "Set this 'ere flocker again, Carl, and then show this feller how to run t'other. I'll start up the grinder, an' go up to the drier." Accordingly Christopher Hanks departed, while Fred put on a gingham frock which his mother had made him as a working blouse, and, at the hands of Carl, received his first lesson. XIV. A "flocker" is a large, clumsy looking wooden machine, four or five feet in length, and just wide enough to take on the cloth, which at that mill was all made double width. It consists chiefly of heavy rollers, so arranged that the cloth passes between them. There is a deep pit at the bottom of the machine, which will hold several bushels of "flocks," in addition to the bulk of a large web of cloth, from forty to fifty yards in length. "Your name is Carl, I believe," said Fred, by way of introducing himself. "Yes, Carl; that's it." "My name is Fred Worthington. I think we shall get along together." "I hope so," returned Carl sincerely, and continued: "The first thing to do is to put the cloth into the machine and set it running." Then, showing how to do this, he added: "Now we start it up by switching this belt so" (moving the belt from the loose to the stationary pulley). "What's the object in running cloth through here?" inquired Fred; for though he had always lived in Mapleton, yet in truth his knowledge of a woolen factory was very limited, and in this respect he did not differ much from the majority of the villagers. "It is to make it weigh more, and to give it a body, so it can be finished," replied the boy, while he turned a basketful of flocks upon the revolving rollers between which the beaver cloth was now swiftly passing. "But why do you call that stuff 'flocks'?" inquired Fred. "It looks like the fine dust that we find at the end of our pants and coats, where it settles down against the hems." "Well, that's just what it is."