THE STEAM-SHOVEL MAN
out throwing any bouquets at myself, I think I ought to be worth more than that to somebody. You see, I couldn't pay for my board and washing, much less give the family income a boost."
"Did my letters help you?"
"Yes, I had an offer of four per from the hardware man. I told him I should have to think it over. Wolverton is as dead as a door-nail, but I can do better than that as a day laborer."
"I hate to think of your quitting school," sighed his father; "but perhaps you can graduate next year." He tried to hide his anxiety by adding quite briskly: "We have a great deal to be thankful for, and this—er—this period of business depression is only temporary, I am sure."
"I seem to be so perfectly useless," pensively murmured Eleanor. "Poetry doesn't pay at all well, even if you are a genius, and then you are supposed to starve to death in a garret."
Walter grinned and pulled her flaxen braid as a token of his high esteem.
"You are mother's little bunch of sunshine,"
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