“Yes, he graduated very high at college, and is widely respected by his fellow ministers, but he has no aptitude for business.”

“You have, mother.  If you had been a man, you would have done better than he.  Without your good management we should have been a good deal worse off than we are.  It is the only thing that has kept our heads above water.”

“I am glad you think so, Grant.  I have done the best I could, but no management will pay bills without money.”

It was quite true that the minister’s wife was a woman of excellent practical sense, who had known how to make his small salary go very far.  In this respect she differed widely from her learned husband, who in matters of business was scarcely more than a child.  But, as she intimated with truth, there was something better than management, and that was ready cash.

“To support a family on six hundred dollars a year is very hard, Grant, when there are three children,” resumed his mother.

“I can’t understand why a man like father can’t command a better salary,” said Grant.  “There’s Rev. Mr. Stentor, in Waverley, gets fifteen hundred dollars salary, and I am sure he can’t compare with father in ability.”

“True, Grant, but your father is modest, and not given to blowing his own trumpet, while Mr. Stentor, from all I can hear, has a very high opinion of himself.”

“He has a loud voice, and thrashes round in his pulpit, as if he were a—­prophet,” said Grant, not quite knowing how to finish his sentence.

“Your father never was a man to push himself forward.  He is very modest.”

“I suppose that is not the only bill that we owe,” said Grant.

“No; our unpaid bills must amount to at least two hundred dollars more,” answered his mother.

Grant whistled.

Two hundred and sixty-seven dollars seemed to him an immense sum, and so it was, to a poor minister with a family of three children and a salary of only six hundred dollars.  Where to obtain so large a sum neither Grant nor his mother could possibly imagine.  Even if there were anyone to borrow it from, there seemed no chance to pay back so considerable a sum.

Mother and son looked at each other in perplexity.  Finally, Grant broke the silence.

“Mother,” he said, “one thing seems pretty clear.  I must go to work.  I am fifteen, well and strong, and I ought to be earning my own living.”

“But your father has set his heart upon your going to college, Grant.”

“And I should like to go, too; but if I did it would be years before I could be anything but an expense and a burden, and that would make me unhappy.”

“You are almost ready for college, Grant, are you not?”

“Very nearly.  I could get ready for the September examination.  I have only to review Homer, and brush up my Latin.”

“And your uncle Godfrey is ready to help you through.”