Bayard Taylor was gone two years, and only spent five
hundred dollars."
"Oh, hang economy!" drawled Clapp. "It don't suit me. I should like
to know how a feller's going to economize on fifteen dollars a week."
"I could."
"Oh, no doubt," sneered Clapp, "but a man can't starve."
"Come round and take supper with me, some night," said Ferguson,
good-humoredly, "and you can judge for yourself whether I believe in
starving."
Clapp didn't reply to this invitation. He would not have enjoyed a
quiet evening with his fellow-workman. An evening at billiards or
cards, accompanied by bets on the games, would have been much more to
his mind.
"Who is Bayard Taylor, that made such a cheap tour in Europe?" asked
Harry, soon afterward.
"A young journalist who had a great desire to travel. He has lately
published an account of his tour. I don't buy many books, but I
bought that. Would you like to read it?"
"Very much."
"You can have it any time."
"Thank you."
On Monday, a very agreeable surprise awaited Harry.
"I am out of copy," he said, going up to Mr. Anderson's table.
"Here's a selection for the first page," said Mr. Anderson. "Cut it
in two, and give part of it to Clapp."
Could Harry believe his eyes! It was his own article on ambition,
and it was to be reproduced in the "Gazette." Next to the delight of
seeing one's self in print for the first time, is the delight of
seeing that first article copied.
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