“You’re poorer than I thought, if seventy-five dollars will cripple you,” said Eben, who knew his father’s circumstances too well to be moved by this representation.

“I shall be in the poorhouse before many years if I undertake to pay all your bills, Eben.”

After all, this was not, perhaps, an exaggeration, for a spendthrift son can get through a great deal of money.

“I can’t get along without money, father,” said Eben, decidedly.  “How can I buy cigars, let alone other things?”

“I don’t want you to smoke cigars.  You’ll be a great deal better off without them,” said his father, sharply.

“I understand; it’s necessary to my health,” said Eben, rather absurdly.

“You won’t smoke at my expense,” said Ebenezer, decidedly.  “I don’t smoke myself, and I never knew any good come of it.”

“All the same, I must have some money.  What will people say about a young man of my age not having a cent in his pocket?  They think my father is very mean.”

“I’ll allow you fifty cents a week,” said Mr. Graham, after a pause.

“That won’t do!  You seem to think I am only six or seven years old!”

Finally, after considerable haggling, Mr. Graham agreed to pay his son a dollar and a half a week, in cash, besides board and clothes.  He reflected that he should be obliged to board and clothe his son at any rate, and should save a dollar and a half from Herbert’s wages.

“Well,” he said, “when will you be ready to go to work?”

“I must have a few days to loaf, father.  I have been hard at work for a long time, and need some rest.”

“Then you can begin next Monday morning.  I’ll get Herbert to show you how to prepare the mail, so that you won’t have any trouble about the post-office work.”

“By the way, father, how do you happen to have the post office?  I thought Mrs. Carr was to carry it on.”

“So she did, for a time, but a woman ain’t fit for a public position of that kind.  So I applied for the position, and got it.”

“What’s Mrs. Carr going to do?”

“She’s got her pension,” said Ebenezer, shortly.

“Eight dollars a month, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“That ain’t much to support a family.”

“She’ll have to do something else, then, I suppose.”

“There isn’t much to do in Wayneboro.”

“That isn’t my lookout.  She can take in sewing, or washing,” suggested Ebenezer, who did not trouble himself much about the care of his neighbors.  “Besides there’s Herbert—­he can earn something.”

“But I’m to take his place.”

“Oh well, I ain’t under any obligations to provide them a livin’.  I’ve got enough to take care of myself and my family.”

“You’d better have let her keep the post office,” said Eben.  He was not less selfish than his father, but then his own interests were not concerned.  He would not have scrupled, in his father’s case, to do precisely the same.