The exterior of the Census Bureau building was a disappointment to Hamilton, by reason of its unimposing appearance.  Indeed, it was altogether too small for the purposes of the census, and during the rush of the decennial work, there were departments of the census scattered through various other buildings, adding no little inconvenience to the work.  Accustomed to the New York structures, towering tens of stories into the air, the two-story red brick building of the census looked small to Hamilton, though comfortable and pleasant to work in.  It was deceiving in its size, however, for the floor space was big and not much broken, and there seemed to be plenty of room.  But it was not until the boy returned after his population work some months later, that he saw this building as the center of unparalleled activity.

[Illustration:  The census building.  Where Hamilton learned the immense importance of this great function of the government. (Walden Fawcett.)]

“I understand,” said the chief of the manufacturing division to him, “that you are desirous of coming to the Census Bureau as one of the permanent force, not just for the decennial period only?”

“Yes, Mr. Clan,” was the boy’s reply, “that is, if the Bureau is willing.”

“That will depend entirely on the work you do.  I didn’t see your papers personally, but I understand you received a high rating, and that you have had a good deal to do with figures.—­That is, for a youngster,” he added, noting the youthfulness of the lad standing before him.

“Yes, sir, I have,” answered Hamilton.

“What made you think of taking this work up?” was the next question.

“Because I like it, sir.”

The divisional chief leaned back in his chair, put his fingers together in characteristic attitude, and smiled.

“Eh,” he said, “you are sure you will like the work?”

“Quite, sir,” said Hamilton in his decided way.  “I looked it all over, and I know.”

“You will be less sure of the future when you are older,” the Scotchman said, “but if you ‘know,’ there’s nothing more to be said.  I’m going to put you under the care of Mr. Burns, and he will instruct you further in the work.”

“But, Mr. Clan—­” began the boy.

“Well?”

“Where am I going, sir?”

“New Haven, Connecticut—­a good town, and one that will give you plenty of work.  You’d better start for there to-night.  I hope you will like it as much as you expect.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hamilton replied, seeing that his superior deemed the interview at an end.  “I’ll do the very best I can.”

On arriving in New Haven the following day, Hamilton made his way to the local Census Office opened by his new leader.  He found Mr. Burns to be a typical statistician, to whom figures had a meaning beyond themselves, but to whom little was of value unless it could be expressed in figures.  Hamilton introduced himself briefly.