aph
announcing my arrival at the great city of the west; and I suppose it
was of no great consequence. However, I found enough to interest me,
till I was disturbed by the entrance of a young man about my own age.

"Good morning, sir," said he, briskly, as he glanced curiously at me.
"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," I replied.

"Didn't know but you had an order."

"No, I have no order."

He looked at me as though he thought I ought to tell him what I wanted.

"Can I sell you any lumber to-day?" he continued.

"I don't think you can. I'm waiting to see Mr. Whippleton," I answered,
in order to save him the trouble of any unnecessary questioning.

"If you are in a hurry you had better not wait, for he hardly ever gets
here till eight o'clock," said the young man, as he went to the desk
and opened an account book.

"I'm in no hurry. I'm going to work here."

"Is that so?"

"That's so."

"Who engaged you?"

"Mr. Whippleton--last evening."

"What are you going to do?"

"I am engaged as entry clerk."

"Good! I'm glad to hear it. I'm yours truly. Who are you?"

"I'm yours truly," I replied, laughing.

"You're a brick! My name is Land Limpedon. What's yours?"

"Philip Farringford."

"Capital! Philip Farringford, I'm deuced glad to see you if you are to
be the entry clerk. I've had to do some of that work, and I don't like
it. I don't think writing is my forte. I suppose you can write."

"I can make my mark."

"That's about all I can do. You have come at just the right time. We
are driven with business. By the way, you needn't wait for Mr.
Whippleton. I'll set you at work. I've just sold a bill, and want it
entered. Take your pen, old boy, and show us whether you can spatter
the ink or not. By the way, are you a hard brick or a soft brick?"

"I think you will find me a hard brick," I replied, at a venture, for I
had no idea of the technical significance of the terms he used.

"Capital! That's a Chicago brick. Did you come from the country?"

"I came from St. Louis."

"Capital, still! You don't smell of mullein and cornstalks. Here's a
good pen. Just enter these items, and give me a bill of them," he
rattled on, taking a memorandum book from his side pocket. "A Chicago
brick! That's the brick for me."

I took the pen, and stood at the desk.

"I can break you in before Whippleton gets here. Now, charge, F. P.
Moleuschott--got that down?"

"Yes."

"Capital! The point of your pen is greasy.