“Yes, sir,” said Henry.
“What is your age?”
“Twelve.”
“Have you ever been in any situation?”
“No, sir.”
“I should like to see a specimen of your handwriting. Here, take the pen and write your name.”
Henry Fosdick had a very handsome handwriting for a boy of his age, while Roswell, who had submitted to the same test, could do little more than scrawl.
“Do you reside with your parents?”
“No, sir, they are dead.”
“Where do you live, then?”