Having been invited to speak to him, he determined to
do so.
"Good-morning, sir," said Paul, politely.
"Eh? Did you speak to me?" inquired the stout gentleman.
"Yes, sir; I bade you good-morning."
"Good-morning. I don't remember you, though. What's your name?"
"Paul Hoffman. Don't you remember my running against you a day
or two since?"
"Oho! you're the boy, then. You nearly knocked the breath out
of me."
"I am very sorry, sir."
"Of course you didn't mean to. Is this your stand?"
"No, sir; I am tending for the owner, who is sick."
"Does he pay you well?"
"He gives me half the profits."
"And does that pay you for your labor?"
"I can earn about a dollar a day."
"That is good. It is more than I earned when I was of your age."
"Indeed, sir!"
"Yes; I was a poor boy, but I kept steadily at work, and now I am
rich."
"I hope I shall be rich some time," said Paul.
"You have the same chance that I had."
"I don't care so much for myself as for my mother and my little
brother. I should like to become rich for their sake."
"So you have a mother and a brother. Where do they live?"
Paul told him.
"And you help support them?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's a good boy," said the gentleman, approvingly.
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