now that vacation had fairly commenced, ben thought he had better make application for employment at the mills. it was generally understood that business had improved and that new hands were to be taken on.

on the morning succeeding the award of prizes, ben presented himself at the office of the superintendent.

after awhile the great man arrived. he nodded patronizingly to the applicants for employment. he saw ben in the number and his small soul was rejoiced, for he meant to humiliate him.

he summoned one and another to a conference, engaging such as were old hands.

ben began to look hopeful. he, too, had experience.

at last mr. archer beckoned to him to approach.

"what do you wish?" he demanded.

"i should like employment at the mills," said ben.

"have you been in my employ before?"

"yes, sir."

mr. archer opened a thick folio volume which lay upon the desk, and appeared to be looking for something, which he found at last.

"i can't employ you," he said coldly.

"why not, sir?"

"because your record is not good."

ben's eyes flashed with proper indignation.

"i don't understand, sir," he said, in a dignified tone.

"it strikes me that my language is plain."

"what complaints were made of me? i should like to know in what respect i failed to do my duty."

"probably you know as well as i can tell you," said the superintendent. "at any rate, i have no time to waste in examining into the matter. i prefer to take a boy who has nothing against him. next."

ben left the office, smarting not so much at the failure to obtain employment, as at the unfounded charges trumped up against him.

just outside the office he met sam archer.

"good morning, bradford," said sam, eyeing our hero curiously. "are you going to work in the mill?"

"no," said ben shortly.

"perhaps old taylor will give you employment."

"no doubt he would if he had occasion to employ any one. mr. taylor is a gentleman."

"do you mean to say father isn't a gentleman?"

"you can draw your own conclusions."

ben was not quite an angel, though he was a manly boy, and he felt pugnacious.

"i've a great mind to knock you down," said sam.

"you may have the mind, but you haven't got the strength to do it," said ben.

"i won't dirty my hands with touching you."

"that's prudent, at any rate," retorted ben.

"you'd better go home and read your prize."

"that's good advice, though it comes from a bad source," returned ben. "it isn't needed, however, for i have been reading it. i can quote two lines—

"'be not like dumb, driven cattle,

be like heroes in the strife.'"

"what do you mean by that?"

"i mean that you will find it hard to drive me."

"perhaps so, but i've done one thing," boasted sam.

"what's that?"

"i told father not to take you if you applied; and that's why you are going away with a flea in your ear."

"i am not surprised to hear this," he answered. "indeed, i am very glad to hear it."

"you are glad to hear it?" repeated sam, puzzled.

"yes."

"i don't understand why you should be."

"i suppose not. i am glad you know just why i was refused."

"well, i hope you are satisfied."

"i am entirely so."

"i wonder what the fellow means," thought sam.