“‘Hired servant!’ I can rise above that, I know, and I will. I’ll not stay in this place another day, let what will happen. I’ll leave to-morrow. The trollope shall see whether I’m a ‘hired servant’ or not. I’ll hire servants yet.”

The fact was, that unexpected appellation proved to James just what the kick in the stomach which the schoolmate gave to Newton did. The kick made a scholar out of Newton; the girl’s remark aroused latent aspirations in James’s heart to be somebody. Years afterwards, when James had become a man, and was battling with the stern realities of life, he said, “That girl’s cutting remark proved a great blessing to me. I was too much annoyed by it to sleep that night; I lay awake under the rafters of that old farm- house, and vowed, again and again, that I would be somebody; that the time should come when that girl would not call me a ‘hired servant.”’

The bad books, however, very nearly turned the aspirations awakened into the way to ruin instead of honour.

James arose early in the morning, dressed himself, and tied up his few possessions in a bundle, and presented himself to Mr. Barton for settlement.

“I’m going to leave to-day,” he said.

If he had fired off a pistol at his employer the latter would not have been more astounded.

“Goin’ ter leave!” he exclaimed.

“Yes; I’m done working at this business.”

“Hi, Jim, yer can’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” answered James; and he adhered to his purpose against the entreaties and good promises of his employer, and that, too, without saying a word to him about the “hired servant.” The upshot was that Mr. Barton paid him off, and James was at home before noon.