Mr. Melville was right. Mr. Barton, the landlord, purchased the fish that Herbert had to sell, for sixty cents, which he promptly paid.
“Don't that pay you for your morning's work?” asked Melville.
“I don't know but the money ought to go to you, Mr. Melville,” said Herbert, “as I am now in your employ. Besides, you caught a part of them.”
“I waive all claim to compensation,” said the young man, “though it would be a novel sensation to receive money for services rendered. What will you say, Herbert, when I tell you that I never earned a dollar in my life?”
Herbert looked incredulous.
“It is really true,” said George Melville, “my life has been passed at school and college, and I have never had occasion to work for money.”
“You are in luck, then.”
“I don't know that; I think those who work for the money they receive are happy. Tell me, now, don't you feel more satisfaction in the sixty cents you have just been paid because you have earned it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought so. The happiest men are those who are usefully employed. Don't forget that, and never sigh for the opportunity to lead an idle life. But I suppose your dinner is ready. You may go home, and come back at three o'clock.”