be slovenly. So the eldest brother, meaning to turn Alner's weakness
to account, offered a prize of a twenty-five-cent necktie of the
winner's own choice to the one who did his chores best for a month.
For the first week Alner and Yan kept even, then Alner wearied, in
spite of the dazzling prize. The pace was too hot. Yan kept on his
usual way and was duly awarded the twenty-five cents to be spent on a
necktie. But in the store a bright thought came tempting him. Fifteen
cents was as much as any one should spend on a necktie--that's sure;
the other ten would get the book. And thus the last dime was added to
the pile. Then, bursting with joy and with the pride of a capitalist,
he went to the book-shop and asked for the coveted volume.

He was tense with long-pent feeling. He expected to have the
bookseller say that the price had gone up to one thousand dollars, and
that all were sold. But he did not. He turned silently, drew the book
out of a pile of them, hesitated and said, "Green or red cover?"

"Green," said Yan, not yet believing. The book-man looked inside, then
laid it down, saying in a cold, business tone, "Ninety cents."

"Ninety cents," gasped Yan. Oh! if only he had known the ways of
booksellers or the workings of cash discounts. For six weeks had
he been barred this happy land--had suffered starvation; he had
misappropriated funds, he had fractured his conscience and all to
raise that ten cents--that unnecessary dime.

He read that book reverentially all the way home. It did not give him
what he wanted, but that doubtless was his own fault. He pored over
it, studied it, loved it, never doubting that now he had the key to
all the wonders and mysteries of Nature. It was five years before