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where? The answer he found one afternoon when standing before the
shop-window of a baker in the neighborhood. The owner of the bakery,
who had just placed in the window a series of trays filled with buns,
tarts, and pies, came outside to look at the display. He found the
hungry boy wistfully regarding the tempting-looking wares.

"Look pretty good, don't they?" asked the baker.

"They would," answered the Dutch boy with his national passion for
cleanliness, "if your window were clean."

"That's so, too," mused the baker. "Perhaps you'll clean it."

"I will," was the laconic reply. And Edward Bok, there and then, got
his first job. He went in, found a step-ladder, and put so much Dutch
energy into the cleaning of the large show-window that the baker
immediately arranged with him to clean it every Tuesday and Friday
afternoon after school. The salary was to be fifty cents per week!

But one day, after he had finished cleaning the window, and the baker
was busy in the rear of the store, a customer came in, and Edward
ventured to wait on her. Dexterously he wrapped up for another the
fragrant currant-buns for which his young soul--and stomach--so
hungered! The baker watched him, saw how quickly and smilingly he
served the customer, and offered Edward an extra dollar per week if he
would come in afternoons and sell behind the counter. He immediately
entered into the bargain with the understanding that, in addition to
his salary of a dollar and a half per week, he should each afternoon
carry home from the good things unsold a moderate something as a
present to his mother. The baker agreed, and Edward promised to come
each afternoon except Saturday.

"Want to play ball, hey?" said the baker.

"Yes, I want to play ball," replied the boy, but he was not reserving
his Saturday afternoons for games, although, boy-like, that might be
his preference.

Edward now took on for each Saturday morning--when, of course, there
was no school--the delivery route of a weekly paper called the _South
Brooklyn Advocate_. He had offered to deliver the entire neighborhood
edition of the paper for one dollar, thus increasing his earning
capacity to two dollars and a half per week.

Transportation, in those days in Brooklyn, was by horse-cars, and the
car-line on Smith Street nearest Edward's home ran to Coney Island.
Just around the corner where Edward lived the cars stopped to water the
horses on their long haul. The boy n