uit her eyes; it was well printed and
bound; and finally, it was cheap at one dollar.

"I'll take it," said the old lady.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Bobby's first victory was achieved

"Have you got a dollar?" asked the lady, as she handed him a two dollar
bill.

"Yes, ma'am;" and he gave her his only dollar, and put the two in its
place, prouder than a king who has conquered an empire. "Thank you,
ma'am."

Bidding the lady a polite good morning, he left the house, encouraged
by his success to go forward in his mission with undiminished hope.

CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH BOBBY IS A LITTLE TOO SMART.

The clouds were rolled back, and Bobby no longer had a doubt as to the
success of his undertaking. It requires but a little sunshine to
gladden the heart, and the influence of his first success scattered all
the misgivings he had cherished.

Two New England shillings is undoubtedly a very small sum of money; but
Bobby had made two shillings, and he would not have considered himself
more fortunate if some unknown relative had left him a fortune. It
gave him confidence in his powers, and as he walked away from the
house, he reviewed the circumstances of his first sale.

The old lady had told him at first she did not wish to buy a book, and,
moreover, had spoken rather contemptuously of the craft to which he had
now the honor to belong. He gave himself the credit of having
conquered the old lady's prejudices. He had sold her a book in spite
of her evident intention not to purchase. In short, he had, as we have
before said, won a glorious victory, and he congratulated himself
accordingly.

But it was of no use to waste time in useless self-glorification, and
Bobby turned from the past to the future. There were forty-nine more
books to be sold, so that the future was forty-nine-times as big as the
past.

He saw a shoemaker's shop ahead of him; and he was debating with
himself whether he should enter and offer his books for sale. It would
do no harm, though he had but slight expectations of doing any thing.

There were three men at work in the shop--one of them a middle-aged
man, the other two young men. They looked like persons of
intelligence, and as soon as Bobby saw them his hopes grew stronger.

"Can I sell you any books to-day?" asked the little merchant, as he
crossed the threshold.

"Well, I don't know; that depends upon how smart you are," replied the
eldest of the men. "It takes a pretty smart