Herbert could not conceal the pleasure that he felt.
“I will be delighted to accept,” he said. “When do you want me to begin, and what may my duties be?”
“You can begin to-morrow morning at eight o’clock,” was the response; “and your duties at first will consist of sweeping out the office, serving the Banner every week, working the printing press, and making yourself generally useful. That does not sound very poetic, does it? But you will find that it will prove a very useful discipline and may be valuable to you later in life.”
Herbert began his work the following morning and did everything in his power to give satisfaction to his employer. If he swept out the office, he did it so carefully as to win the praise of the journeyman printer. When he served the papers, he did it with such accuracy as to merit the approval of the editor. This continued for several weeks, and at the end of that time he began to contribute little local items to the paper, much to the satisfaction of Mr. Brooks. In the meantime Mr. Anderson had opened a night school in the town, and Herbert resolved to attend the sessions of this school in order to perfect his education as much as possible.
Towards the close of the winter Mr. Brooks complimented Herbert by authorizing him to write the Irvington letter for the Banner. Irvington was the adjoining town, and by this new arrangement Herbert had to go there for the items regularly every week. He walked there and back in mid-winter in order to obtain this copy, and although the weather was sometimes very severe, he never complained. Under his arrangement with Mr. Brooks, he was to remain at the office of the Cleverly Banner until he was twenty years of age. Incidentally he was initiated into the mystery of typesetting, for the Banner, although progressive in some ways, had not yet reached the dignity of typesetting machines. The printing press gave him more trouble than any other part of his work. On the days that he had to assist in working the press his hands were blistered and his back lamed by constant stooping. Yet he was always kindly treated by those in authority, and in return merited their confidence and good will.
Late one afternoon on his way home he met Mary Black, who was as sweet and kind and tender as ever. Her first thought was about his new position.
“Herbert, I hear that you are connected with the Banner.”
“Yes,” he said modestly, “that is true.”
“Are you the editor?”
“Not exactly.”