is hat, and with
measured dignity, walked to the village post-office.

He met several of his neighbors there, and greeted them with affable
condescension. He was polite to those of all rank, as that was essential
to his retaining the town offices, which he would have been unwilling to
resign.

From the post-office the squire, as he remembered the conversation which
had taken place at the breakfast-table, went to make an official call on
the boy whose fate he had so summarily decided.

Before the call, it may be well to say a word about Philip Gray, our
hero, and the circumstances which had led to his present destitution.

His father had once been engaged in mercantile business, but his
health failed, his business suffered, and he found it best-indeed,
necessary--to settle up his affairs altogether and live in quiet
retirement in Norton.

The expenses of living there were small, but his resources were small,
also, and he lived just long enough to exhaust them.

It was this thought that gave him solicitude on his death-bed, for he
left a boy of fifteen wholly unprovided for.

Let us go back a week and record what passed at the last interview
between Philip and his father before the latter passed into the state of
unconsciousness which preceded death.

"Are you in pain, father?" asked Philip, with earnest sympathy, as his
father lay outstretched on the bed, his face overspread by the deathly
pallor which was the harbinger of dissolution.

"Not of the body, Philip," said Mr. Gray. "That is spared me, but I own
that my mind is ill at ease."

"Do you mind telling me why, father!"

"No; for it relates to you, my son, or, rather, to your future. When my
affairs are settled, I fear there will be nothing left for your support.
I shall leave you penniless."

"If that is all, father, don't let that trouble you."

"I am afraid, Philip, you don't realize what it is to be thrown upon the
cold charities of the world."

"I shall work for my living," said Philip confidently.

"You will have to do that, I'm afraid, Philip."

"But I am not afraid to work, father. Didn't you tell me one day that
many of our most successful men had to work their way up from early
poverty!"

"Yes, that is true; but a boy cannot always get the chance to earn his
living. Of one thing I am glad; you have a good education for a boy of
your age. That is always a help."

"Thanks to you, father."

"Yes; though an invalid, I have, at all even