I went back to work happy. Pay day, three dollars of my own money. I would have a gray suit, gray hat, gloves, and a leather trunk in no time. I would soon be a tall, handsome, distinguished-looking gentleman, on Cy’s money. I jingled my three dollars loudly and could hardly wait for my father to come home so I could tell him about my working and ask him to mind my money for me.
The possession of three dollars changed me at once. I became independent, confident, secure. When father came in I went to him without a single misgiving, feeling sure he would approve. I had my money in my hand and my spirit was high. I told him I had been working for Mr. Near all week; that I had three dollars in wages and wanted him to take care of them for me. He took the money and put it in his pocket, saying: “All right. Let me know when you want it.”
“And you don’t mind my working for Cy?”
“No. I don’t mind. Cy told me all about it. You will have to learn to work some time. And you will have to learn lots of other things. So you may as well start at Cy’s.”
He turned to his paper, and I thought the thing was settled, but as I went out of the room I saw him twisting up the end of his long beard.
The school work was no trouble to me. I put in a year, and vacation time came along almost before I knew it. I was saving all the money I earned as assistant to Cy, and was looking forward to earning more during vacation. I brought home to my father a report from the school which seemed to show that I had made good progress. He glanced at the card and threw it to one side.
“I suppose you have the multiplication table this time, John?”
“Oh, yes, I learned it at last.”
“How many are eight times nine, John?”
“Seventy-two, sir.”