"Do you know him?" asked Clapp, in some surprise.

"Yes.  I know him as well as I want to."

"What sort of a fellow is he?"

"Oh, he's a sneak--one of your pious chaps, that 'wants to be an
angel, and with the angels stand.'"

"Then he's made a mistake in turning 'devil,'" said Clapp.

"Good for you!" said Luke, laughing.  "You're unusually brilliant
to-night, Clapp."

"So he's a saint, is he?"

"He set up for one; but I don't like his style myself.  He's as mean
as dirt.  Why I knew him several months, and he never offered to
treat in all that time.  He's as much afraid of spending a cent as if
it were a dollar."

"He won't have many dollars to spend just at present.  He's working
for his board."

"Oh, he's got money saved up," said Luke.  "Fellows like him hang on
to a cent when they get it.  I once asked him to lend me a few
dollars, just for a day or two, but he wouldn't do it.  I hate such
mean fellows."

"So do I.  Will you have a cigar?"

"I'll treat this time," said Luke, who thought it polite to take his
turn in treating once to his companion's four or five times.

"Thank you.  From what you say, I am sorry Anderson has taken the
fellow into the office."

"You needn't have much to say to him."

"I shan't trouble myself much about him.  I didn't like his looks
when I first set eyes on him.  I suppose old Mother Anderson will
like him.  She couldn't abide my smoking, and he won't trouble her
that way."

"So; he's too mean to buy the cigars."

"He said he couldn't afford it."

"That's what it comes to.  By the way, Clapp, when shall we take
another ride?"

"I can get away nest Monday afternoon, at three."

"All right.  I'll manage to get off at the same time.  We'll go to
Whiston and take supper at the hotel.  It does a fellow good to get
off now and then.  It won't cost more than five dollars apiece
altogether."

"We'll get the carriage charged.  The fact is, I'm little low on
funds."

"So am I, but it won't matter.  Griffin will wait for his pay."

While Harry's character waa being so unfavorably discussed, he was
taking a walk by himself, observing with interest the main features
of his new home.  He had been here before with Professor Henderson,
but had been too much occupied at that time to get a very clear idea
of Centreville, nor had it then the interest for him which it had
acquired since.  He went upon a hill overlooking the village, and
obtained an excellent view from its summit.  It was a pleasant,
well-built village of perhaps three thousand inhabitants, with
outlying farms and farm-houses.  Along the principal streets the
dwellings and stores were closely built, so as to make it seem quite
city-like.  It was the shire town of the county, and being the
largest place in the neighborhood, country people for miles around
traded at its stores.  Farmers' wives came to Centreville to make
purchases, just as ladies living within a radius of thirty miles
visit New York and Boston, for a similar purpose.  Altogether,
therefore, Centreville was quite a lively place, and a town of
considerable local importance.  The fact that it had a weekly paper
of its own, contributed to bring it into notice.  Nor was that all.
Situated on a little hillock was a building with a belfry, which
might have been taken for a church but for a play-ground near by,
which indicated that it had a different character.  It was in fact
the Prescott Academy, so called from the name of its founder, who had
endowed it with a fund of ten thousand dollars, besides erecting the
building at his own expense on land bought for the purpose.  This
academy also had a local reputation, and its benefits were not
confined to the children of Centreville.  There were about twenty
pupils from other towns who boarded with the Principal or elsewhere
in the town, and made up the whole number of students in
attendance--about eighty on an average.

Standing on the eminence referred to, Harry's attention was drawn to
the Academy, and he could not help forming the wish that he, too,
might share in its advantages.

"There is so much to learn, and I know so little," he thought.

But he did not brood over the poverty which prevented him from
gratifying his desire.  He knew it would do no good, and he also
reflected that knowledge may be acquired in a printing office as well
as within the walls of an academy or college.

"As soon as I get well settled," he said to himself, "I mean to get
some books and study a little every day.  That is the way Franklin
did.  I never can be an editor, that's certain, without knowing more
than I do now.  Before I am qualified to teach others, I must know
something myself."

Looking at the village which lay below him, Harry was disposed to
congratulate himself on his new residence.

"It looks like a pleasant place," he said to himself, "and when I get
a little acquainted, I shall enjoy myself very well, I am sure.  Of
course I shall feel rather lonely just at first."

He was so engrossed by his thoughts that he did not take heed to his
steps, and was only reminded of his abstraction by his foot suddenly
coming in contact with a boy who was lying under a tree, and pitching
headfirst over him.

"Holloa!" exclaimed the latter, "what are you about?  You didn't take
me for a foot-ball, did you?"

"I beg your pardon," said Harry, jumping up in some confusion.  "I
was so busy thinking that I didn't see you.  I hope I didn't hurt
you."

"Nothing serious.  Didn't you hurt yourself?"

"I bumped my head a little, but it only struck the earth.  If it had
been a stone, it might have been different.  I had no idea there was
any one up here except myself."

"It was very kind of you to bow so low to a perfect stranger," said
the other, his eyes twinkling humorously.  "I suppose it would only
be polite for me to follow your example."

"I'll excuse you," said Harry laughing.

"Thank you.  That takes a great burden off my mind.  I don't like to
be outdone in politeness, but really I shouldn't like to tumble over
you.  My head may be softer than yours.  There's one thing clear.  We
ought to know each other.  As you've taken the trouble to come up
here, and stumble over me, I really feel as if we ought to strike up
a friendship.  What do you say?"

"With all my heart," said our hero.




CHAPTER IV.

OSCAR VINCENT.

"Allow me to introduce myself," said the stranger boy.  "My name is
Oscar Vincent, from Boston, at present a student at the Prescott
Academy, at your service."

As he spoke, he doffed his hat and bowed, showing a profusion of
chestnut hair, a broad, open brow, and an attractive face, lighted up
by a pleasant smile.

Harry felt drawn to him by a feeling which was not long in ripening
into friendship.

Imitating the other's frankness, he also took off his hat and
replied,--

"Let me introduce myself, in turn, as Harry Walton, junior apprentice
in the office of the 'Centreville Gazette,' sometimes profanely
called 'printer's devil.'"

"Good!" said Oscar, laughing.  "How do you like the business?"

"I think I shall like it, but I have only just started in it.  I went
into the office for the first time to-day."

"I have an uncle who started as you are doing," said Oscar.  "He is
now chief editor of a daily paper in Boston."

"Is he?" said Harry, with interest.  "Did he find it hard to rise?"

"He is a hard worker.  I have heard him say that he used to sit up
late of nights during his apprenticeship, studying and improving
himself."

"That is what I mean to do," said Harry.

"I don't think he was as lazy as his nephew," said Oscar.  "I am
afraid if I had been in his place I should have remained in it."

"Are you lazy?" asked Harry, smiling at the other's frankness.

"A little so; that is, I don't improve my opportunities as I might.
Father wants to make a lawyer of me so he has put me here, and I am
preparing for Harvard."

"I envy you," said Harry.  "There is nothing I should like so much as
entering college."

"I daresay I shall like it tolerably well," said Oscar; "but I don't
_hanker_ after it, as the boy said after swallowing a dose of castor
oil.  I'll tell you what I should like better--"

"What?" asked Harry, as the other paused.

"I should like to enter the Naval Academy, and qualify myself for the
naval service.  I always liked the sea."

"Doesn't your father approve of your doing this?"

"He wouldn't mind my entering the navy as an officer, but he is not
willing to have me enter the merchant service."

"Then why doesn't he send you to the Naval Academy?"

"Because I can't enter without receiving the appointment from a
member of Congress.  Our member can only appoint one, and there is no
vacancy.  So, as I can't go where I want to, I am preparing for
Harvard."

"Are you studying Latin and Greek?"

"Yes."

"Have you studied them long?"

"About two years.  I was looking over my Greek lesson when you
playfully tumbled over me."

"Will you let me look at your book?  I never saw a Greek book."

"I sometimes wish I never had," said Oscar; "but that's when I am
lazy."

Harry opened the book--a Greek reader--in the middle of an extract
from Xenophon, and looked with some awe at the unintelligible letters.

"Can you read it?  Can you understand what it means?" he asked,
looking up from the book.

"So-so."

"You must know a great deal."

Oscar laughed.

"I wonder what Dr. Burton would say if he heard you," he said.

"Who is he?"

"Principal of our Academy.   He gave me a blowing up for my ignorance
to-day, because I missed an irregular Greek verb.  I'm not exactly a
dunce, but I don't think I shall ever be a Greek professor."

"If you speak of yourself that way, what will you think of me?  I
don't know a word of Latin, of Greek, or any language except my own."

"Because you have had no chance to learn.  There's one language I
know more about than Latin or Greek."

"English?"

"I mean French; I spent a year at a French boarding-school, three
years since."

"What!  Have you been in France?"

"Yes; an uncle of mine--in fact, the editor--was going over, and
urged father to send me.  I learned considerable French, but not much
else.  I can speak and understand it pretty well."

"How I wish I had had your advantages," said Harry.  "How did you
like your French schoolmates?"

"They wouldn't come near me at first.  Because I was an American they
thought I carried a revolver and a dirk-knife, and was dangerous.
That is their idea of American boys.  When they found I was tame, and
carried no deadly weapons, they ventured to speak with me, and after
that we got along pretty well."

"How soon do you expect to go to college?"

"A year from next summer.  I suppose I shall be ready by that time.
You are going to stay in town, I suppose?"

"Yes, if I keep my place."

"Oh, you'll do that.  Then we can see something of each other.  You
must come up to my room, and see me.  Come almost any evening."

"I should like to.  Do you live in Dr. Barton's family?"

"No, I hope not."

"Why not?"

"Oh, the Doctor has a way of looking after the fellows that room in
the house, and of keeping them at work all the time.  That wouldn't
suit me.  I board at Mrs. Greyson's, at the south-east corner of the
church common.  Have you got anything to do this evening?"

"Nothing in particular."

"Then come round and take a look at my den, or sanctum I ought to
call it; as I am talking to a member of the editorial profession."

"Not quite yet," said Harry, smiling.

"Oh, well that'll come in due time.  Will you come?"

"Sha'n't I be disturbing you?"

"Not a bit.  My Greek lesson is about finished, and that's all I've
got to do this evening.  Come round, and we will sit over the fire,
and chat like old friends."

"Thank you, Oscar," said Harry, irresistibly attracted by his bright
and lively acquaintance, "I shall enjoy calling.  I have made no
acquaintances yet, and I feel lonely."

"I have got over that," said Oscar.  "I am used to being away from
home and don't mind it."

The two boys walked together to Oscar's boarding-place.  It was a
large house, of considerable pretension for a village, and Oscar's
room was large and handsomely furnished.  But what attracted Harry's
attention was not the furniture, but a collection of over a hundred
books, ranged on shelves at one end of the room.  In his father's
house it had always been so difficult to obtain the necessaries of
life that books had necessarily been regarded as superfluities, and
beyond a dozen volumes which Harry had read and re-read, he was
compelled to depend on such as he could borrow.  Here again his
privileges were scanty, for most of the neighbors were as poorly
supplied as his father.

"What a fine library you have, Oscar!" he exclaimed.

"I have a few books," said Oscar.  "My father filled a couple of
boxes, and sent me.  He has a large library."

"This seems a large library to me," said Harry.  "My father likes
reading, but he is poor, and cannot afford to buy books."

He said that in a matter-of-fact tone, without the least attempt to
conceal what many boys would have been tempted to hide.  Oscar noted
this, and liked his new friend the better for it.

"Yes," he said, "books cost money, and one hasn't always the money to
spare."

"Have you read all these books?"

"Not more than half of them.  I like reading better than studying, I
am afraid.  I am reading the Waverley novels now.  Have you read any
of them?"

"So; I never saw any of them before."

"If you see anything you would like to read, I will lend it to you
with pleasure," said Oscar, noticing the interest with which Harry
regarded the books.

"Will you?" said Harry, eagerly.  "I can't tell you how much obliged
I am.  I will take good care of it."

"Oh, I am sure of that.  Here, try Ivanhoe.  I've just read it, and
it's tip-top."

"Thank you; I will take it on your recommendation.  What a nice room
you have!"

"Yes, it's pretty comfortable.  Father told me to fix it up to suit
me.  He said he wouldn't mind the expense if I would only study."

"I should think anybody might study in such a room as this, and with
such a fine collection of books."

"I'm rather lazy sometimes," said Oscar, "but I shall turn over a new
leaf some of these days, and astonish everybody.  To-night, as I have
no studying to do, I'll tell you what we'll do.  Did you ever pop
corn?"

"Sometimes."

"I've got some corn here, and Ma'am Greyson has a popper.  Stay here
alone a minute, and I'll run down and get it."

Oscar ran down stairs, and speedily returned with a corn-popper.

"Now we'll have a jolly time," said he.  "Draw up that arm-chair, and
make yourself at home.  If Xenophon, or Virgil, or any of those Greek
and Latin chaps call, we'll tell 'em we are transacting important
business and can't be disturbed.  What do you say?"

"They won't be apt to call on me," said Harry.  I haven't the
pleasure of knowing them."

"It isn't always a pleasure, I can assure you, Harry.  Pass over the
corn-popper."




CHAPTER  V.

A YOUNG F. F. B.

As the two boys sat in front of the fire, popping and eating the
corn, and chatting of one thing and another, their acquaintance
improved rapidly.  Harry learned that Oscar's father was a Boston
merchant, in the Calcutta trade, with a counting-room on Long Wharf.
Oscar was a year older than himself, and the oldest child.  He had a
sister of thirteen, named Florence, and a younger brother, Charlie,
now ten.  They lived on Beacon Street, opposite the Common.  Though
Harry had never lived in Boston, be knew that this was a fashionable
street, and he had no difficulty in inferring that Mr. Vincent was a
rich man.  He felt what a wide gulf there was socially between
himself and Oscar; one the son of a very poor country farmer, the
other the son of a merchant prince.  But nothing in Oscar's manner
indicated the faintest feeling of superiority, and this pleased
Harry.  I may as well say, however, that our hero was not one to show
any foolish subserviency to a richer boy; he thought mainly of
Oscar's superiority in knowledge; and although the latter was far
ahead of Harry on this score, he was not one to boast of it.

Harry, in return for Oscar's confidence, acquainted him with his own
adventures since he had started out to earn his own living.  Oscar
was most interested in his apprenticeship to the ventriloquist.

"It must have been jolly fun," he said.   "I shouldn't mind
travelling round with him myself.  Can you perform any tricks?"

"A few," said Harry.

"Show me some, that's a good fellow."

"If you won't show others.  Professor Henderson wouldn't like to have
his tricks generally known.  I could show more if I had the articles
he uses.  But I can do some without."

"Go ahead, Professor.  I'm all attention."

Not having served an apprenticeship to a magician, as Harry did, I
will not undertake to describe the few simple tricks which he had
picked up, and now exhibited for the entertainment of his companion.
It is enough to say that they were quite satisfactory, and that Oscar
professed his intention to puzzle his Boston friends with them, when
his vacation arrived.

About half-past eight, a knock was heard at the door.

"Come in!" called out Oscar.

The door was opened, and a boy about his own age entered.   His name
was Fitzgerald Fletcher.  He was also a Boston boy, and the son of a
retail merchant, doing business on Washington street.  His father
lived handsomely, and was supposed to be rich.  At any rate
Fitzgerald supposed him to be so, and was very proud of the fact.  He
generally let any new acquaintances understand very speedily that his
father was a man of property, and that his family moved in the first
circles of Boston Society.  He cultivated the acquaintance of those
boys who belonged to rich families, and did not fail to show the
superiority which he felt to those of less abundant means.  For
example, he liked to be considered intimate with Oscar, as the social
position of Mr. Vincent was higher than that of his own family.  It
gave him an excuse also for calling on Oscar in Boston.  He had tried
to ingratiate himself also with Oscar's sister Florence, but had only
disgusted her with his airs, so that he could not flatter himself
with his success in this direction.  Oscar had very little liking for
him, but as school-fellows they often met, and Fitzgerald often
called upon him.  On such occasions he treated him politely enough,
for it was not in his nature to be rude without cause.

Fitz was elaborately dressed, feeling that handsome clothes would
help convey the impression of wealth, which he was anxious to
establish.  In particular he paid attention to his neckties, of which
he boasted a greater variety than any of his school-mates.  It was
not a lofty ambition, but, such as it was, he was able to gratify it.

"How are you, Fitz?" said Oscar, when he saw who was his visitor.
"Draw up a chair to the fire, and make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you, Oscar," said Fitzgerald, leisurely drawing off a pair of
kid gloves; "I thought I would drop in and see you."

"All right!  Will you have some popped corn?"

"No, thank you," answered Fitzgerald, shrugging his shoulders.  "I
don't fancy the article."

"Don't you?  Then you don't know what's good."

"Fancy passing round popped corn at a party in Boston," said the
other.  "How people would stare!"

"Would they?  I don't know about that.  I think some would be more
sensible and eat.  But, I beg your pardon, I haven't introduced you
to my friend, Harry Walton.  Harry, this is a classmate of mine.
Fitzgerald Fletcher, Esq., of Boston."

Fitzgerald did not appear to perceive that the title Esq. was
sportively added to his name.  He took it seriously, and was pleased
with it, as a recognition of his social superiority.  He bowed
ceremoniously to our hero, and said, formally, "I am pleased to make
your acquaintance, Mr. Walton."

"Thank you, Mr. Fletcher," replied Harry, bowing in turn.

"I wonder who he is," thought Fitzgerald.

He had no idea of the true position of our young hero, or he would
not have wasted so much politeness upon him.  The fact was, that
Harry was well dressed, having on the suit which had been given him
by a friend from the city.  It was therefore fashionably cut, and had
been so well kept as still to be in very good condition.  It occurred
to Fitz--to give him the short name he received from his
school-fellows--that it might be a Boston friend of Oscar's, just
entering the Academy.  This might account for his not having met him
before.  Perhaps he was from an aristocratic Boston family.  His
intimacy with Oscar rendered it probable, and it might be well to
cultivate his acquaintance.  On this hint he spoke.

"Are you about to enter the Academy, Mr. Walton?"

"No; I should like to do so, but cannot."

"You are one of Oscar's friends from the city, I suppose, then?"

"Oh no; I am living in Centreville."

"Who can he be?" thought Fitz.  With considerable less cordiality in
his manner, he continued, impelled by curiosity,--

"I don't think I have met you before."

"No: I have only just come to the village."

Oscar understood thoroughly the bewilderment of his visitor, and
enjoyed it.  He knew the weakness of Fitz, and he could imagine how
his feelings would change when be ascertained the real position of
Harry.

"My friend," he explained, "is connected with the 'Centreville
Gazette.'"

"In what capacity?" asked Fitz, in surprise.

"He is profanely termed the 'printer's devil.' Isn't that so, Harry?"

"I believe you are right," said our hero, smiling.  He had a
suspicion that this relation would shock his new acquaintance.

"Indeed!" ejaculated Fitz, pursing up his lips, and, I was about to
say, turning up his nose, but nature had saved him the little trouble
of doing that.

"What in the world brings him here, then?" he thought; but there was
no need of saying it, for both Oscar and Harry read it in his manner.
"Strange that Oscar Vincent, from one of the first families of
Boston, should demean himself by keeping company with a low printer
boy!"

"Harry and I have had a jolly time popping corn this evening!" said
Oscar, choosing to ignore his school-mate's changed manner.

"Indeed!  I can't see what fun there is in it."

"Oh, you've got no taste.  Has he, Harry?"

"His taste differs from ours," said our hero, politely.

"I should think so," remarked Fitz, with significant emphasis.  "Was
that all you had to amuse yourself?"

In using the singular pronoun, he expressly ignored the presence of
the young printer.

"No, that wasn't all.  My friend Harry has been amusing me with some
tricks which he learned while he was travelling round with Professor
Henderson, the ventriloquist and magician."

"Really, he is quite accomplished," said Fitz, with a covert sneer.
"Pretty company Oscar has taken up with!" he thought.  "How long were
you in the circus business?" he asked, turning to Harry.

"I never was in the circus business."

"Excuse me.  I should say, travelling about with the ventriloquist."

"About three months.  I was with him when he performed here last
winter."

"Ah! indeed.  I didn't go.   My father doesn't approve of my
attending such common performances.  I only attend first-class
theatres, and the Italian opera."

"That's foolish," said Oscar.  "You miss a good deal of fun, then.  I
went to Professor Henderson's entertainment, and I now remember
seeing you there, Harry.  You took money at the door, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Now I understand what made your face seem so familiar to me, when I
saw it this afternoon.  By the way, I have never been into a printing
office.  If I come round to yours, will you show me round?"

"I should be very glad to, Oscar, but perhaps you had better wait
till I have been there a little while, and learned the ropes.  I know
very little about it yet."

"Won't you come too, Fitz?" asked Oscar.

"You must really excuse me," drawled Fitz.  "I have heard that a