he glanced back at the squalid brick houses below him, the smoky
roofs, and the ugly factory chimneys.

"And I declare," he pursued, reflectively, "I don't believe
I can stand Old Dan Dwight much longer. Dan, Junior, is bad
enough--when he is around the store; but the boss would drive a
fellow to death."

He shook his head, now turning from the pleasanter prospect of
the farming land and staring down into the town.

"Maybe I'm not a success because I don't stick to one thing.
I've had six jobs in less'n two years. That's a bad record for a
boy, I believe. But there hasn't any of them suited me, nor have
I suited them.

"And Dwight's Emporium beats 'em all!" finished Hiram, shaking
his head.

He turned his back upon the town once more, as though to wipe his
failure out of his memory. Before him sloped a field of wheat
and clover.

It had kept as green under the snow as though winter was an
unknown season. Every cloverleaf sparkled and the leaves of
wheat bristled like tiny spears.

Spring was on the way. He could hear the call of it!

Two years before Hiram had left the farm. He had no immediate