“Sure enough,” said Mrs. Preston, “that boy has put on handcuffs,—handcuffs of ignorance! If he tells the truth, he has had some opportunities of getting an education; but it is very plain that he did not profit by them. He has put the handcuffs on, and he will have to wear them, now.”
The children insisted upon seeing the letters of the other applicants, and they were accordingly handed around, read, and criticised, affording much amusement to the company. None of them were quite so faulty as John Morrow’s, though several of them did not do much credit to the writers. Two or three, however, were very well expressed, and neatly written. One of the best read as follows:
“Boston, Sept. 15, 185-.
“Dear Sir: I read your advertisement for a boy, and think I might answer your purpose. I was fourteen years old last June, and have just left school, and come to Boston to earn my living. My parents live in Dracut; but I have two grown-up brothers in Boston, with whom I live, and who will look after me. I have the recommendation of my school teacher, and several other gentlemen, which I will show you if you wish. If you will try me, I will endeavor to give satisfaction. You can find me at No. —, —— Street.
“Yours, respectfully,
“Henry E. Hoyt.”
“Why, Mr. Preston, I know that boy!” exclaimed Clinton, as soon as his eye rested upon the above signature; “and I think he’s a good boy, too.”
“Ah!” said Mr. Preston; “what do you know about him?”
“I don’t really know much about him,” replied Clinton; “but I liked his appearance. I got acquainted with him on the Common, a week or two ago, and I went up to the top of the State House with him. He told me he came from Dracut, and lived with his brothers, and was trying to get a place. This must be the same boy.”
“Is that all you know about him?” inquired Mr. Preston, with a smile.