are
on the back of the cloth."

"They are the worst things there are, for if one of them gets in by
accident it is sure to make a hole through the cloth when it runs
through the shears."

Thus, with work and talk, the day flew by almost before Fred was aware
of it. In fact, the hours seemed shorter to him than any he had passed
for weeks. Now there was something new to occupy his attention, and work
enough to keep his hands busy. The many curious machines before him, of
which Carl had told him a little, interested him much--so much, indeed,
that even at the end of the first day he felt no small desire to know
more of them.

XVIII.

In the evening, after Fred's second day in the factory, as he sat with
his parents in their pleasant home, and the thought of Carl and of his
sad deformity and still sadder story recurred to him, he could not help
contrasting the circumstances of the little humpback with his own.

Two mornings before, as he entered the mill, he had felt that his burden
was almost greater than he could bear. He was disgraced and thrown out
of his position, and was about entering upon a cheerless life, where
there was but little opportunity for advancement.

But now, as he reflected upon his surroundings, he saw that he was much
better off than many others. He had both father and mother, who loved
and cared for him, who provided for him a cheerful home, and who would
at any time sacrifice their own pleasures and comforts for his.
Moreover, he was well and strong, and had the advantage of attending
school, while Carl had been obliged to go into the mill at a little more
than ten years of age, in order to earn something toward the support of
his mother and invalid father. It was while thus employed that he met
with the terrible accident that so deformed him and blighted his young
life.

"No wonder he looks so sad," said Fred to himself. "Perhaps he may be as
ambitious to make a success in the world as I am, and yet he is thrown
into the factory, and is probably glad of even such a place, and maybe
he works hard at times when he is really unable to do anything. Poor
boy! I don't see what prospects he can see ahead to cheer him on. He has
neither friends, education, nor health, and with so small a chance as
there is in the factory for advancement, I should think he might as well
give up first as last; but as he has no home, I suppose he must earn a
living somehow or starve. If he only had friends