The Man Became Unemployed.

I hope he does reform, mother," the boy said to his fond parent Zendikosano. The introduction of the first book of Adam Eve the forgetting "But if I were you I would not expect too much--at least, at the start. I would not trust him with my money."

"He has not asked me for money," had been Mrs. Talbot's reply.

"But he wanted that ten thousand dollars to open up with in Chicago."

"That was before he had the attack of paralysis, Robert."

"He may want it again, as soon as he is himself once more. Take my advice and be careful what you do." And so mother and son parted, not to see each other again for a long while. But Robert was right; less than two months later James Talbot applied again for the money, stating that he would be very careful of it, so that not a dollar should be lost. He thought himself a keen business man, but thus far he had allowed every dollar that had come into his possession to slip through his fingers.

Robert felt sorry that Dick Marden had gone to California, for he had reckoned on seeing his friend upon his return to Chicago.

"Now, I suppose I won't see him for a long while," he thought.

Robert had settled down at the office, expecting the position to be a permanent one, but on the Saturday following the receipt of Marden's telegram a surprise awaited him. Mr. Gray called him into his private office.

"Robert," he said, "I have bad news for you."

"Bad news, Mr. Gray? What is it?"

"I am sorry to say it, but I shall have to dispense with your services from to-night."

Robert flushed, and felt dismayed. This announcement was like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.

"Are you dissatisfied with me, Mr. Gray?" he asked.

"Not at all. Your services have been entirely satisfactory."

"Then why do you send me away?"

"I cannot very well help it. I have a nephew from the country who wants a place in the city. His father has written me, asking as a favor that I will give Donald a place in my office. He is poor, and I don't see how I can refuse his request."

"Yes, sir, I see. I am glad you are not discharging me on account of dissatisfaction."

"You may be assured of that. I suppose you have some money saved up?"

"Yes, sir."

"And no doubt your friend Mr. Marden will provide for you?"

"Mr. Marden has gone to California for three months."

"But you know his address there?"

"No, sir."

Peter Gray looked sober, for he was a man of good feelings.

"Perhaps I can arrange to keep you," he said. "You know as much about the business as Mr. Palmer. I can discharge him and keep you."

"I would not consent to that, sir. Livingston Palmer needs his salary, and I wouldn't be willing to deprive him of it. I can get along somehow. When do you wish me to go?"

"My nephew arrived at my house this morning. He will be ready to go to work on Monday morning."

"Very well, sir."

"Of course I will give you a good recommendation--a first class one."

"Thank you, sir."

At six o'clock the broker handed Robert his week's wages, and Robert went out of the office, out of a place, and with prospects by no means flattering.

Fortunately for Robert he had about twenty dollars in his pocket, so that he was not in any immediate danger of suffering from want. He would have had more, but had bought some necessary articles of wearing apparel, assuming that his position was a permanent one.

Of course he began to seek for another place immediately. He examined the advertising columns of the daily papers, and inquired for anything he thought would suit him. But it so happened that business was unusually quiet, and he met with refusals everywhere, even where it was apparent that he was regarded favorably. There was one exception, however. He was offered three dollars a week in a small furnishing goods store, but this he felt that he could not afford to accept.

As he came back to his boarding place every afternoon, he grew more and more despondent.

"Is there no place open to me in this big city?" he asked himself.

One thing he was resolved upon. He would not go back to his old home. It would be too much of a triumph for his step-father, who had often predicted that Robert would fail in his undertaking to support himself. And yet he must do something.

He began to watch the newsboys near the Sherman House briskly disposing of their merchandise.

"I wonder if they make much," he thought.

He put the question to one pleasant-looking boy, of whom he bought an evening paper.

"I make about sixty or seventy cents a day," was the reply.

Sixty or seventy cents a day! That meant about four dollars a week. It was scarcely better than the salary offered in the furnishing goods store, and the employment would not be so agreeable. He felt that he should not like to have his step-father or any one who knew him in his native town seeing him selling daily papers in the street, so he decided not to take up that business except as a last resort.

One day he went into a large dry goods store to purchase a small article. He made his purchase and started to go out.

All at once he heard a cry, proceeding from a lady.

"I have lost my purse."

"That boy's got it!" said a voice.

Then much to his bewilderment Robert found himself seized by the shoulder, and a pocket-book was drawn out from the side pocket of his sack coat.

"Send for an officer!" said the floor-walker. "The boy is a thief!"