He was not much astonished when Bobby opened his ambitious scheme of going into business for himself.  But he had full faith in his ability to work out a useful and profitable, if not a brilliant life.  He often said that Bobby was worth his weight in gold, and that he would trust him with any thing he had.  Perhaps he did not suspect that the time was at hand when he would be called upon to verify his words practically; for it was only that morning, when one of the neighbors told him about Bobby’s stopping the horse, that he had repeated the expression for the twentieth time.

It was not an idle remark.  Sixty dollars was hardly worth mentioning with a man of his wealth and liberal views, though so careful a man as he was would not have been likely to throw away that amount.  But as a matter of investment,—­Bobby had made the note read “with interest,”—­he would as readily have let him have it, as the next richest man in the place, so much confidence had he in our hero’s integrity, and so sure was he that he would soon have the means of paying him.

Bobby was overjoyed at the fortunate issue of his mission, and he walked into the room where his mother was closing shoes, with a dignity worthy a banker or a great merchant.  Mrs. Bright was very sad.  Perhaps she felt a little grieved that her son, whom she loved so much, had so thoughtlessly plunged her into a new difficulty.

“Come, cheer up, mother; it is all right,” said Bobby in his usual elastic and gay tones; and at the same time he took the sixty dollars from his pocket and handed it to her.  “There is the money, and you will be forever quit of Mr. Hardhand to-morrow.”

“What, Bobby!  Why, where did you get all this money?” asked Mrs. Bright, utterly astonished.

In a few words the ambitious boy told his story, and then informed his mother that he was going to Boston the next Monday morning, to commence business for himself.

“Why, what can you do, Bobby?”

“Do?  I can do a great many things;” and he unfolded his scheme of becoming a little book merchant.

“You are a courageous fellow!  Who would have thought of such a thing?”

“I should, and did.”

“But you are not old enough.”

“O, yes, I am.”

“You had better wait a while.”

“Now or never, mother!  You see I have given my note, and my paper will be dishonored, if I am not up and doing.”

“Your paper!” said Mrs. Bright, with a smile.

“That is what Mr. Wing, the boot manufacturer, calls it.”

“You needn’t go away to earn this money; I can pay it myself.”

“This note is my affair, and I mean to pay it myself with my own earnings.  No objections, mother.”

Like a sensible woman as she was, she did not make any objections.  She was conscious of Bobby’s talents; she knew that he had a strong mind of his own, and could take care of himself.  It is true, she feared the influence of the great world, and especially of the great city, upon the tender mind of her son; but if he was never tempted, he would never be a conqueror over the foes that beset him.