"A cent apiece."
"I'll take two."
Thus for four cents Harry made quite a substantial addition to his meal. As he left the store, and walked up the road, with the roll in his hand, eating an apple, he called to mind Benjamin Franklin's entrance of Philadelphia with a roll under each arm.
"I hope I shall have as good luck as Franklin had," he thought.
Walking slowly, he saw, on a small building which he I had just reached, the sign, "Post Office."
"Perhaps the postmaster will know if anybody about here wants a boy," Harry said to himself. "At any rate, it won't do any harm to inquire."
He entered, finding himself in a small room, with one part partitioned off as a repository for mail matter. He stepped up to a little window, and presently the postmaster, an elderly man, presented himself.
"What name," he asked.
"I haven't come for a letter," said Harry.
"What do you want, then?" asked the official, but not roughly.