at a pleasant smile. "You've been brought up different. I've heard
you're a smart, capable boy, that isn't afraid of work."

"No, sir, I am not, if I am fairly paid for my work."

The new postmaster's jaw fell, and he looked uneasy, for he always
grudged the money he paid out, even the paltry dollar and a half
which went to poor Tom.

"I always calkerlate to pay fair wages," he said; "but I ain't rich,
and I can't afford to fling away money."

"How much do you pay Tom Tripp?" asked Herbert.

He knew, but he wanted to draw Mr. Graham out.

"I pay Thomas a dollar and fifty cents a week," answered the
storekeeper, in a tone which indicated that he regarded this, on the
whole, as rather a munificent sum.

"And he works from seven in the morning till nine o'clock at night,"
proceeded Herbert.

"Them are the hours," said Ebenezer, who knew better how to make
money than to speak grammatically.

"It makes a pretty long day," observed Mrs. Carr.

"So it does, ma'am, but it's no longer than I work myself."