"I should like to hire out," continued Harry, with an earnestness that would have secured the attention of any man but an idiot.
"Do you? Your name is Joseph—isn't it?"
"No, sir; my name is Harry West."
"O, I thought it was Joseph. The Book says he had a coat of many colors, though I believe it don't say anything about the trousers," sneered the shopkeeper.
"Never mind the coat or the trousers. If you want to hire a boy, I will do the best I can for you," replied Harry, willing to appreciate the joke of the other, if he could get a place.
"You won't answer for us; you come from the country."
"I did."
"What did you come to Boston for?"
"After work."
"You had better go back, and let yourself to some farmer. You will make a good scarecrow to hang up in the field. No crow would ever come near you, I'll warrant."