"You're not going"—began Granny with a gasp.
"Yes, I'm going"—was the solemn rejoinder.
"Not to sea!" and there came a quick blur in Hal's eyes.
"Oh, bother, no! You're all splendid at guessing, and ought to have a prize leather medal. It's in Mr. Terry's store; and I shall have a dollar and a half a week! Good by, Mr. Fielder. Adieu, beloved grammar; and farewell, most fragrant extract of cube-root, as well as birch-oil. O Granny! I'm happy as a big sunflower. On the high road to fame and fortune,—think of it!"
"Is it really true?" asked Florence.
"Then, I won't need to go for any thing," appended Charlie.
"No; but you'll have to draw water, and split kindlings, and hunt up Mrs. Green's cows."
"In Mr. Terry's store! What wonderful luck, Joe!"
Granny's delight was overwhelming. All along she had experienced a sad misgiving, lest Joe should take a fancy to the sea in real earnest.
"Yes. It's just splendid. Steve Anthony's going to the city to learn a trade. He had a letter from his uncle to-day, saying that he might start right away. I thought a minute: then said I, 'Steve, who's coming here?' 'I don't know,' said he. 'Mr. Terry'll have to look round.' 'I'm your boy,' said I, 'and no mistake.' And with that I rushed in to Mr. Terry, and asked him. He gave me some columns of figures to add up, and questioned me a little, and finally told me that I might come on Monday, and we'd try for a week."