It was the first real letter he had ever written, and it seemed a great thing to do—ten times more important than writing a composition, and almost equal to editing the Eagle.
"I'll just put in everything," he thought, "just as it came along, and they'll know what I've been doing."
It took a long time to write the letter, but it was done at last, and when he put down his pen he exclaimed:
"Hard work always makes me hungry! I wonder if it isn't dinner-time? They said it was always dinner-time here after twelve o'clock. I'll go see." It was long after twelve when he went down to the office to stamp and mail his letter.
"Mr. Ogden," said the clerk, giving Jack an envelope, "here's a note from Mr. Magruder. He left—"
"Ogden," said a deep, full voice just behind him, "didn't you stay there too long? I am told you sat in the Speaker's chair."
Jack wheeled about, blushing crimson. The Governor was not standing still, but was walking steadily through the office, surrounded by a group of dignified men. It was necessary to walk with them in order to reply to the question, and Jack did so.
"I sat there half a minute," he answered. "I hope it didn't hurt me."
"I'm glad you got out so soon, Jack," replied the Governor approvingly.
"But I heard also that you think of learning the Governor business," went on the great man. "Now, don't you do it. It is not large pay, and you'd be out of work most of the time. Be a blacksmith, or a carpenter, or a tailor, or a printer."