dollar in his pocket.

"Well, Dan," said the father on their return, "what did you do with your
money?"

"Spent it," answered the boy.

"And what did you do with yours, Zeke?"

"Lent it to Dan," was the answer. The fact was that Dan had spent both
quarters.

Young Webster was very industrious in his studies, as we have seen, and
he was physically strong and active as his fondness for sport proved;
but he could never endure farm-work. One day his father wanted him to
help him in cutting hay with a scythe; but very soon the boy complained
that the scythe was not "hung" to suit him; that is to say, it was not
set at a proper angle upon its handle. The old gentleman, adjusted it,
but still it did not suit the boy. After repeated attempts to arrange it
to Dan's liking, the father said, impatiently, "Well, hang it to suit
yourself." And young Dan immediately "hung" it over a branch of an
apple-tree and left it there. That was the hanging which pleased him.

[Illustration: "'TO THE END OF THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE AENEID,' ANSWERED
THE 'IDLE' BOY, IN TRIUMPH."]

After finishing his college course Webster began studying law, but
having no money, and being unwilling to tax his father for further
support, he went into Northern Maine, and taught school there for a
time. While teaching he devoted his evenings to the work of copying
deeds and other legal documents, and by close economy managed to live
upon the money thus earned, thus saving the whole of his salary as a
teacher. With this money to live on, he went to Boston, studied law, and
soon distinguished himself. The story of his life as a public man, in
the senate, in the cabinet, and at the bar, is well known, and does not
belong to this sketch of his boyhood.

THE SCULLION WHO BECAME A SCULPTOR.

In the little Italian village of Possagno there lived a jolly
stone-cutter named Pisano. He was poor, of course, or he would not have
been a stone-cutter; but he was full of good humor, and everybody liked
him.

There was one little boy, especially, who loved old Pisano, and whom old
Pisano loved more than anybody else in the world. This was Antonio
Canova, Pisano's grandson, who had come to live with him, because his
father was dead, and his mother had married a harsh man, who treated the
little Antonio roughly.

Antonio was a frail little fellow, and his grandfather liked to have him
near him during his working hours.

While Pisano worked at stone-cutting, li