"Oh, they'll slip by before you know it. Besides, I'll raise your wages
just as soon as you are worth it," said Mr. Barrows.

"I'll see about it," was all the boy could answer.

"Two dollars a week would not go far towards supporting a family of
five," sighed Richard, as he walked away. "And then to be a house
painter all one's life! I must strike something else."

But "striking something else" was no easy matter, as the boy soon
learned. A visit to the two stores, the blacksmith shop and to several
people whom he thought might give him employment, brought forth no
results of value. Either they had nothing for him to do, or else the
pay offered was altogether too small.

Richard returned home late in the afternoon. Grace met him at the end
of the lane.

"Any luck, Dick?" she asked eagerly.

"No," he replied, and related his experience.

"Never mind," returned his sister. "Maybe it isn't so bad after all.
The minister is here."

"Mr. Cook?"

"Yes, he's in the parlor talking to mamma, and I heard them mention
your name, and say something about New York."