It's a good introduction
to a life of labor, which I have reason to
believe is before me. I wonder how I am coming
out--at the big or the little end of the horn?"
He paused, and his face grew grave, for he
understood well that for him life had become
a serious matter. In his absorption he did
not observe the rapid approach of a boy some-
what younger than himself, mounted on a bicycle.
The boy stopped short in surprise, and
leaped from his iron steed.
"Why, Carl Crawford, is this you? Where
in the world are you going with that gripsack?"
Carl looked up quickly.
"Going to seek my fortune," he answered, soberly.
"Well, I hope you'll find it. Don't chaff,
though, but tell the honest truth."
"I have told you the truth, Gilbert."
With a puzzled look, Gilbert, first leaning
his bicycle against the tree, seated himself on
the ground by Carl's side.
"Has your father lost his property?" he
asked, abruptly.
"No."
"Has he disinherited you?"
"Not exactly."
"Have you left home for good?"
"I have left home--I hope for good."
"Have you quarreled with the governor?"
"I hardly know what to say to that.
There is a difference between us."
"He doesn't seem like a Roman father--one
who rules his family with a rod of iron."
"No; he is quite the reverse. He hasn't
backbone enough."
"So it seemed to me when I saw him at the
exhibition of the academy. You ought to be
able to get along with a father like that, Carl."
"So I could but for one thing."
"What is that?"
"I have a stepmother!" said Carl, with a
significant glance at his companion.
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