de many a boy so smart that you couldn't touch him with a ten foot
pole. It starches them up so stiff that sometimes they don't know
their own mothers, and deem it a piece of condescension to speak a word
to the patriarch in a blue frock who had the honor of supporting them
in childhood.

Bobby was none of this sort. We lament that he had a habit of talking
big--that is, of talking about business affairs in a style a little
beyond his years. But he was modest to a fault, paradoxical as it may
seem. He was always blushing when any body spoke a pretty thing about
him. Probably the circumstances of his position elevated him above the
sphere of the mere boy; he had spent but little time in play, and his
attention had been directed at all times to the wants of his mother.
He had thought a great deal about business, especially since the visit
of the boy who sold books to the little black house.

Some boys are born merchants, and from their earliest youth have a
genius for trade. They think of little else. They "play shop" before
they wear jackets, and drive a barter trade in jackknives, whistles,
tops, and fishing lines long before they get into their teens. They
are shrewd even then, and obtain a taste for commerce before they are
old enough to know the meaning of the word.

We saw a boy in school, not long since, give the value of eighteen
cents for a little stunted quince--boys have a taste for raw quinces,
strange as it may seem. Undoubtedly he had no talent for trade, and
would make a very indifferent tin pedler. Our hero was shrewd. He
always got the best end of the bargain; though, I am happy to say, his
integrity was too unyielding to let him cheat his fellows.

We have made this digression so that my young readers may know why
Bobby was so much given to big talk. The desire to do something worthy
of a good son turned his attention to matters above his sphere; and
thinking of great things, he had come to talk great things. It was not
a bad fault, after all. Boys need not necessarily be frivolous. Play
is a good thing, an excellent thing, in its place, and is as much a
part of the boy's education as his grammar and arithmetic. It not only
develops his muscles, but enlarges his mental capacity; it not only
fills with excitement the idle hours of the long day, but it sharpens
the judgment, and helps to fit the boy for the active duties of life.

It need not be supposed, because Bobby had to turn his a