and making bright remarks to them.

"Well, who in the name of the seven wonders can he be?" mused Tom, walking
briskly homeward. "He must be some relative of the Warmores; but they
ought to be ashamed of such a specimen as that. He was the laughing-stock
of the boat. I was forming quite an exalted opinion of Miss Jennie; but if
she fancies that sort of thing, my respect for her has gone down to zero."

When Tom stepped upon the porch of Farmer Pitcairn's home, and shook hands
with him, and received a motherly kiss from his good wife, he went inside,
and, sitting down to their evening meal, asked Mr. Pitcairn whether he had
noticed the young man riding in the Warmore carriage with the mother and
daughter.

"Yes; I've seen him before. He is a son of an old friend of the family.
I've an idee that he and Miss Warmore are intended for each other."

"Do you know his name?"

"Yes--let me see. Ah, it is Catherwood--G. Field Catherwood. He parts his
name, like his hair, in the middle. He is quite a dude in his dress, but
when you come to know him pretty well he isn't such a bad sort of fellow."

"How is it _you_ know so much about him?" asked Tom in surprise.

"He has stopped here a good many times when out riding with the ladies.
He's fond of mother's buttermilk."

"I thought his kind preferred sweet milk," Tom could not help remarking,
with a laugh; "but I must not judge him too harshly. We all have our
peculiarities, and he is not likely to fancy me any more than I do him."

Tom returned to his work refreshed and renewed in strength and spirits.
The year passed pleasantly. That which followed saw him promoted another
step, so that when the fourth year opened it saw him in a situation where
the salary of but a single employee exceeded his; that was the bookkeeper.

He had every reason to expect that place when the vacancy should occur.
Mr. Warmore had given so many evidences of his regard that it was conceded
by all that he was his favorite clerk. He had never violated his
principles of honesty, truthfulness, and consideration for every one with
whom he came in contact. A young man who lives up to that rule of conduct
is as sure to succeed, if his life is spared, as the sun is to rise.

The bookkeeper was an elderly gentleman, so well-to-do that, at the
beginning of the fifth year, he resigned and gave up all active work. His
son was engaged in successful business in New York, and urged his father
to join him, where