“Don’t be disheartened mother,” he said, with animation.  “I can and will do something.  I can help you.  You have worked for me a great many years.  Now I will work for you.”

Where there is a will, there is a way.  But it is often the case, that the will lacks the kind of intelligence that enables it to find the right way at once.  So it proved in the case of Hiram Mayberry.  He had a strong enough will, but did not know how to bring it into activity.  Good, without its appropriate truth, is impotent.  Of this the poor lad soon became conscious.  To the question of his mother—­

“What can you do, child?” an answer came not so readily.

“Oh, I can do a great many things,” was easily said; but, even in saying so, a sense of inability followed the first thought of what he should do, that the declaration awakened.

The will impels, and then the understanding seeks for the means of effecting the purposes of the will.  In the case of young Hiram, thought followed affection.  He pondered for many days over the means by which he was to aid his mother.  But the more he thought, the more conscious did he become, that in the world, he was a weak boy.  That however strong might be his purpose, his means of action were limited.  His mother could aid him but little.  She had but one suggestion to make, and that was, that he should endeavor to get a situation in some store or counting-room.  This he attempted to do.  Following her direction, he called upon Mr. Easy, who promised to see about looking him up a situation.  It happened, the day after, that a neighbor spoke to him about a lad for his store—­(Mr. Easy had already forgotten his promise)—­Hiram was recommended, and the man called to see his mother.

“How much salary can you afford to give him?” asked Mrs. Mayberry, after learning all about the situation, and feeling satisfied that her son should accept of it.

“Salary, ma’am?” returned the storekeeper, in a tone of surprise.  “We never give a boy any salary for the first year.  The knowledge that is acquired of business is always considered a full compensation.  After the first year, if he likes us, and we like him, we may give him seventy-five or a hundred dollars.”

Poor Mrs. Mayberry’s countenance fell immediately.

“I wouldn’t think of his going out now, if it were not in the hope of his earning something,” she said, in a disappointed voice.

“How much did you expect him to earn?” was asked by the storekeeper.

“I didn’t know exactly what to expect.  But I supposed that he might earn four or five dollars a week.”

“Five dollars a week is all we pay our porter an abled-bodied, industrious man,” was returned.  “If you wish your son to become acquainted with mercantile business, you must not expect him to earn much for three or four years.  At a trade you may receive from him barely a sufficiency to board and clothe him, but nothing more.”