Carl reported for duty the next morning,
and, though a novice, soon showed that he was
not without mechanical skill.
At twelve o'clock all the factory hands had
an hour off for dinner. As Carl passed into
the street he found himself walking beside the
boy whom he had succeeded--Leonard Craig.
"Good-morning, Leonard," said Carl, pleasantly.
"Good-morning. Have you taken my place
in the factory?"
"Yes."
"Do you think you shall like it?"
"I think I shall, though, of course, it is
rather early to form an opinion."
"I didn't like it."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to grow up a workman. I
think I am fit for something better."
"Mr. Jennings began as a factory hand."
"I suppose he had a taste for it. I haven't."
"Then you like your present position better?"
"Oh, yes; it's more genteel. How much does
Jennings pay you?"
"Two dollars a week and board."
"How is that? Where do you board?"
"With him."
"Oh!" said Leonard, his countenance changing.
"So you are a favorite with the boss, are you?"
"I don't know. He gave me warning that
he should be just as strict with me as if we
were strangers."
"How long have you known him?"
Carl smiled.
"I met him for the first time yesterday," he answered.
"That's very queer."
"Well, perhaps it is a little singular."
"Are you a poor boy?"
"I have to earn my own living."
"I see. You will grow up a common workman."
"I shall try to rise above it. I am not ashamed
of the position, but I am ambitious to rise.
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