Bennett—No more of this, dear boy. I cannot talk of my present poverty, and of my native skies, without sad emotions. And now to business. Can you write a handsome hand?
John—I can write a plain hand.
Bennett—Can you spell well?
John—Tolerably well, for a poor boy.
Bennett—Do you understand figures?
John—Better than spelling or writing.
Bennett—How much do you want a week?
John—Enough to buy shoes and jacket and trowsers, and pay my father and mother something for my food and lodging.
Bennett—Well, if you prove active, and answer my purpose, I will reward you according to my success in my new enterprise.