At fifteen minutes before the hour of seven "Ninety-four's kid," as some of the clerks at headquarters had already designated Seth, entered the gymnasium with a bustling air as if the hardest tasks would be no more than a pleasure.
"Had your breakfast?" Mr. Fernald asked gruffly.
"Yes, sir."
"How long since you turned out?"
"It wasn't quite light when I left the house, sir."
"Have you been here all that time?"
"Oh no, sir. You see, I go over to Ninety-four's quarters to shine the company, an' it stands me in hand to be out of bed pretty early."
"What do you do to the company?" Mr. Fernald asked, as an expression of bewilderment came over his face.
"I shine for all hands—black their boots, you know."
"Yes, I understand now. Isn't the work here enough to satisfy you, but that you must needs look around for more?"