Ben stooped and picked it up, and, to his surprise, discovered that it was a ten-dollar bill.

“That’s a correspondent worth having,” said Mr. Brown jocosely.  “Can’t you give me a letter of introduction?”

Ben didn’t answer, for he was by this time deep the letter.  We will look over his shoulder and read it with him.  It ran thus: 

                             “No. ——­ Madison Avenue,
                                   New York, October 5.

“My Dear Young Friend: 

“Will you come to New York and call upon me?  I have a very pleasant remembrance of you and the service you did me recently, and think I can employ you in other ways, to our mutual advantage.  I am willing to pay you a higher salary than you are receiving in your country home, besides providing you with a home in my own house.  I inclose ten dollars for expenses.  Yours, with best wishes,

“Helen Hamilton”

Ben’s heart beat with joyful excitement as he read this letter.  It could not have come at a better time, for, as we know, he was out of employment, and, of course, earning nothing.

“Well, Ben,” said the postmaster, whose curiosity was excited, is it good news?”

“I should say it was,” said Ben emphatically.  “I am offered a good situation in New York.”

“You don’t say so!  How much are offered?”

“I am to get more than Mr. Crawford paid me and board in a fine house besides—­a brownstone house on Madison Avenue.”

“Well, I declare!  You are in luck,” ejaculated Mr. Brown.  “What are you to do?”

“That’s more than I know.  Here is the letter, if you like to read it.”

“It reads well.  She must be a generous lady.  But what will your mother say?”

“That’s what I want to know,” said Ben, looking suddenly sober.  “I hate to leave her, but it is for my good.”

“Mothers are self-sacrificing when the interests of their children are concerned.”

“I know that,” said Ben promptly; “and I’ve got one of the best mothers going.”

“So you have.  Every one likes and respects Mrs. Barclay.”

Any boy, who is worth anything, likes to hear his mother praised, and Ben liked Mr. Brown better for this tribute to the one whom he loved best on earth.  He was not slow in making his way home.  He went at once to the kitchen, where his mother was engaged in mixing bread.

“What’s the matter, Ben?  You look excited,” said Mrs. Barkley.

“So I am, mother.  I am offered a position.”

“Not in the store?”

“No; it is in New York.”

“In New York!” repeated his mother, in a troubled voice.  “It would cost you all you could make to pay your board in some cheap boarding house.  If it were really going to be for your own good, I might consent to part with you, but—­”

“Read that letter, mother,” said Ben.  “You will see that I shall have an elegant home and a salary besides.  It is a chance in a thousand.”