e
against the firm remained about the same. Mortified at my defeat, I
decided to show my statement to Mr. Whippleton, for I was deeply
interested to know where "the figures lied."

"What's that?" demanded the junior partner, as I laid my balance sheet
and statement before him.

"I have made out a trial balance and statement, sir," I replied.

"Who told you to do that?" he asked, with a glance at the sanctum of
Mr. Collingsby.

"No one, sir."

"What do you mean by wasting your time in that way?"

"You told me to look into the system of keeping the books, and I
thought I could not do it any better than by getting out a trial
balance for the last six months."

"We don't take a trial balance but once a year."

"I only did it for practice, so that I might understand it better when
I had to do the real thing."

"I don't care about your overhauling the books to that extent without
my knowledge," added Mr. Whippleton, looking very much displeased.

I began to think I had sailed my last sail in the Florina; but as I had
kept the books up square, I did not feel that I had done anything to
incur his displeasure.

[Illustration: THE TRIAL BALANCE. Page 108.]

"I only did it for practice, sir," I repeated, in excuse for my wicked
conduct.

"Did Mr. Collingsby tell you to do that?"

"No, sir; he never said a word to me about it."

"Have you shown it to him?"

"No sir; of course not. There is something wrong about it. You
understand these things so well that I suppose you can tell me at a
glance just what the matter is."

"Perhaps I can," he added, glancing at my sheets. "What's the matter
with it?"

"I make it out that the concern has lost about ten thousand dollars in
the last six months' business. Of course that can't be so."

"Certainly not; and that shows the folly of boys like you meddling with
what you don't understand," said he, sourly, and in a more crabbed tone
than he had ever before used to me.

I had expected to be commended for the zeal I had shown in my efforts
to master the details of the business, instead of which I found myself
sharply reproved. I had made a failure of my purpose to get out a
correct trial balance, and this was sufficiently mortifying without the
reproach the junior partner cast upon me. I hung my head with shame
while he glanced over the trial balance, which, according to my
father's system, included the balance sheet. I supposed his practised
eye would promptly detect my