“Mebbe,” said Bog; “but I didn’t consider it no objection.  I told him I was goin’ to be a bill poster, and wanted to study every branch o’ the business.”  At this point Bog hitched his chair nervously, uncrossed and recrossed his legs, as if he were conscious of trespassing on the patience of his auditors, and then went on:  “Well, I hurried home, and saw that aunt didn’t want for nothin’, and then I started on my travels.  I should ha’ called and seen you, Mr. Minford,” he added, casting a side glance at the inventor, “but I hadn’t time.”

“No excuse necessary, my good Bog,” returned Mr. Minford, kindly.  “Business before pleasure, you know.  But I am anxious to hear how you got along with the job.”

“Well, pooty hard,” said Bog, emphatically, “though I made out to go all through the State, and stick up six thousand bills, every one on ’em on a new house, shop, or fence.  Lemme see—­I was chased seven times by big dogs that was set on me, shot at three times”

“Why, poor Bog!” interrupted Pet; “you wern’t hurt, I hope?”

“No, Miss Minford; I wasn’t hurt,” answered Bog, looking her in the face for the first time since he entered the house, “though I got one through my old cap.”

“I’m so glad it was no worse, Bog.”

These words of sympathy from the young girl flustered the poor boy for a minute.  Then he rallied: 

“Besides that, I was took up four times by the perlice, and was carried afore justices of the peace.  When they asked what I had to say why I shouldn’t be fined, I told ’em the whole truth about it, and they all laughed except one, and said it was really funny, and they hadn’t no doubt the hair dye was a very good thing to take, but could tell better after they had tried some.  I told ’em that the hair-dye man would send ’em a dozen bottles apiece.  Mr. Fink had d’rected me to say this, if I was ’rested and brought afore a justice.  The justices—­that is, all of ’em but one—­then said they didn’t want to be hard on me; and as that was my first offence, they would let me go without any fine.  And they did, after givin’ me their names, and tellin’ me to be sure to have the bottles sent on jest as soon as could be.  Ye see, they were all as bald on the top o’ their heads as punkins.  But the fourth justice that I was took to, he wasn’t bald, but had a crop o’ hair like a picter; and when I offered to put down his name for a dozen bottles, he swore, and fined me five dollars for what he said was a insult to the dignity of justice, and five dollars for postin’ up bills in places where it was agin the law.  Mr. Fink had give me money from the hair-dye man to pay fines, as well as my board; so I didn’t care.  But—­but I am talking too much.”

Bog paused, because, on taking a stealthy observation around him, he suddenly become conscious that his three auditors were listening attentively to his story.

“Not at all, my dear Bog,” said Mr. Minford.  “I, for one, am curious to know how this ingenious plan of advertising, in defiance of the law, succeeded.”  Mr. Wilkeson expressed himself curious on the same point.  Bog, thus encouraged, continued: