The host cut off a liberal slice for Carl, and passed the plate to Hannah, who supplied potatoes, peas and squash. Carl's mouth fairly watered as he watched the hospitable preparations for his refreshment.
"I never trouble myself about what we are to have on the table," said Mr. Jennings.
"Hannah always sees to that. She's knows just what I want. She is a capital cook, too, Hannah is."
Hannah looked pleased at this compliment.
"You are easily pleased, master," she said.
"I should be hard to suit if I were not pleased with your cooking. You don't know so well Carl's taste, but if there is anything he likes particularly he can tell you."
"You are very kind, sir," said Carl.
"There are not many men who would treat a poor boy so considerately," he thought.
"He makes me an honored guest."
When dinner was over, Mr. Jennings invited Carl to accompany him on a walk. They passed along the principal street, nearly every person they met giving the little man a cordial greeting.
"He seems to be very popular," thought Carl.
At length they reached the manufactory. Mr. Jennings went into the office, followed by Carl.
A slender, dark-complexioned man, about thirty-five years of age, sat on a stool at a high desk. He was evidently the bookkeeper.
"Any letters, Mr. Gibbon?" asked Mr. Jennings.
"Yes, sir; here are four."
"Where are they from?"
"From New York, Chicago, Pittsburg and New Haven."
"What do they relate to?"
"Orders. I have handed them to Mr. Potter."
Potter, as Carl afterwards learned, was superintendent of the manufactory, and had full charge of practical details.
"Is there anything requiring my personal attention?"
"No, sir; I don't think so."
"By the way, Mr. Gibbon, let me introduce you to a young friend of mine--Carl Crawford."
The bookkeeper rapidly scanned Carl's face and figure. It seemed to Carl that the scrutiny was not a friendly one.
"I am glad to see you," said Mr. Gibbon, coldly.
"Thank you, sir."
"By the way, Mr. Jennings," said the bookkeeper, "I have a favor to ask of you."
"Go on, Mr. Gibbon," rejoined his employer, in a cordial tone.
"Two months since you gave my nephew, Leonard Craig, a place in the factory."
"Yes; I remember."
"I don't think the work agrees with him."
"He seemed a strong, healthy boy."
"He has never been used to confinement, and it affects him unpleasantly."
"Does he wish to resign his place?"
"I have been wondering whether you would not be willing to transfer him to the office.
I could send him on errands, to the post office, and make him useful in various ways."
"I had not supposed an office boy was needed.
Still, if you desire it, I will try your nephew in the place."
"Thank you, sir."
"I am bound to tell you, however, that his present place is a better one. He is learning a good trade, which, if he masters it, will always give him a livelihood. I learned a trade, and owe all I have to that."
"True, Mr. Jennings, but there are other ways of earning a living."
"Certainly."
"And I thought of giving Leonard evening instruction in bookkeeping."
"That alters the case. Good bookkeepers are always in demand. I have no objection to your trying the experiment."
"Thank you, sir."
"Have you mentioned the matter to your nephew?"
"I just suggested that I would ask you, but could not say what answer you would give."
"It would have been better not to mention the matter at all till you could tell him definitely that he could change his place."
"I don't know but you are right, sir.
However, it is all right now."
"Now, Carl," said Mr. Jennings, "I will take you into the workroom."
