this is where your uncle Robert lives," and Mr.
Hardy pointed to the house on the steps of which Dan had been sitting.

To his great surprise Dan learned that he had followed the policeman's
directions exactly; but, not knowing it, had neglected to look on the
house-doors for his uncle's name.

In a few moments more he and his father were in the house, while Crippy
was in the kitchen actually gorging himself with food.

When Mr. Hardy found the note Dan had left, he was not at all worried
about his son's safety; but when, later in the day, he had leisure, he
started to the city for the travellers, and, driving directly to his
brother's house, found them as has been seen.

It is easy to understand that after all this labor on Dan's part to save
his pet, Mr. Hardy readily promised that Crippy should be allowed to die
of old age, instead of being killed and roasted, and Dan, with Crippy
hugged very close to him, started for home with his father, sure that no
boy in all the wide world would spend a merrier Thanksgiving than he.

Crippy was also happy on that day, if food could make him so, and it is
safe to say that, if he survives the wonderfully big dinner Dan proposes
to give him this year, he will live to a green old age.

HIS THREE TRIALS.

I.

AS CARPENTER AND CHEMIST.

For three years Hal had been trying to decide what should be his
business in life; and now at the age of fifteen, and in his last school
year, he was as far as ever from any fixed plan. A profession, he
argued, required too much study; a trade meant ten hours a day of hard
labor; he was too old for an office-boy; and he had no capital to put
into business. Well, if he could only even find out now for what he was
fitted, it would save time in the end.

"How do people ever sit still and think!" he exclaimed aloud. "I'll go
over and consult Ned."

Ned was two years his senior. He had started in life with the idea of
being a doctor, and had kept to it. Consequently he had little sympathy
with Hal's vagaries, and often chided him for his lack of definite
purpose. But as Hal's well-known war-whoop sounded under the window, he
came out on his steps.

"What's up?" he asked. "You look as black as a thunder cloud."

"Father says I've got to make up my mind what to do, and that if I don't
he'll do it for me," answered Hal laconically, "and that might not suit,
you know."

"I told you it would come to that if you did not look sharp," answ