“Very well, sir.”

Herbert felt rather proud to have so much confidence reposed in him, for to him a hundred and fifty dollars seemed a large sum of money, and he felt that George Melville was a rich man to draw so much at one time.

“Had I better go to the bank at once?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so; of course, I need not caution you to take good care of the money.”

“I’ll be sure to do that, sir.”

They walked together to Tremont Street, and Mr. Melville paused at a doorway opposite the Common.

“My doctor’s office is upstairs,” he said.  “We will part here and meet at the hotel.  If you are late, I may go into the dining room; so if you don’t see me in the reading room, go to the door of the dining room and look in.”

“Very well, sir; but I think I shall be on time.”

“The bank is open now, and you can cash the check if you go down there.”

Left to himself, Herbert walked slowly along, looking into shop windows and observing with interested attention the people whom he met.

“It must be very pleasant to live in the city,” he thought; “there is so much going on all the time.”

It is no wonder that country boys are drawn toward the city, and feel that their cup of happiness would be full if they could get a position in some city store.  They do not always find the reality equal to their anticipations.  The long hours and strict discipline of a city office or mercantile establishment are not much like the freedom they pictured to themselves, and after they have paid their board bill in some shabby boarding house they seldom find much left over, either for amusement or needful expenses.  The majority of boys would do better to remain in their country homes, where at least they can live comfortably and at small expense, and take such employment as may fall in their way.  They will stand a much better chance of reaching a competence in middle life than if they helped to crowd the ranks of city clerks and salesmen.  There is many a hard-working clerk of middle age, living poorly, and with nothing laid by, in the city, who, had he remained in his native village, might have reached a modest independence.  It was hardly to be expected, however, that Herbert would feel thus.  Upon him the show and glitter of the city shops and streets produced their natural effect, and he walked on buoyantly, seeing three times as much as a city boy would have done.

He turned down School Street, passing the Parker House, where he was to meet Mr. Melville.  Just before he reached it he saw Eben Graham emerge from the hotel and walk towards Washington Street.  Eben did not look behind him, and therefore did not see Herbert.

“I wonder where he is going?” thought our hero, as he followed a few steps behind Eben.

CHAPTER XV.

An obliging guide.