The clerk's hands trembled as he went on tying up the groceries; and when the last article the order-book called for had been weighed out, and all the bundles had been placed on one end of the counter and marked with the owner's name, so that the man who drove the delivery wagon would know where to take them, he called all his courage to his aid and walked into the office, the door of which was open.
As he entered, a gray-headed, hard-featured man, who was sitting on a high stool in front of the desk, turned and looked at him over his spectacles.
"Mr. Anderson says you want to see me, sir," said the clerk.
"Yes; I sent for you," replied the gray-headed man. "There is the money we owe you—fifteen dollars. We shall not need your services any longer."
"Am I discharged, sir?" asked the boy, as he took the bills that were handed him.
"Yes. Times are hard and trade dull, as you know, and we must begin to cut down our expenses. You are the youngest clerk in the store, and so you must go first."
"May I ask you for a letter of recommendation, to assist me in obtaining another situation?" asked the clerk.
"I am sorry you ask me for it, Oscar, for I can't consistently give it to you," replied Mr. Smith.
The boy seemed to be utterly confounded. His face grew pale and red by turns, and as soon as he could speak, he said, with more spirit than his employer had ever seen him exhibit before: