"Then I'm afraid we can't make a bargain, deacon. Here is the store,
and I'll bid you good morning."

"If you think better of my offer, you can let me know, Benjamin. You
can talk it over with your uncle."

"All right, sir. If you think better of mine, just let me know
within a week, or I may be gone from Hampton."

"That's a cur'us boy," said the deacon meditatively. "He's got the
most conceited idea of his vally to work of any boy I ever came
across. A hundred and fifty dollars and board! What'll Mrs. Pitkin
say when I tell her? She ain't much sot on the boy's comin' anyway.
She thinks he's too hearty; but I don't mind that, so much. He's
strong and good to work, an' he's the only boy in town that would
suit me."

"I wonder what the deacon thinks of me," soliloquized Ben. "I
thought I should scare him a little when I named my price. If I'd
thought he would take me at that figure, I'd have said more. It
wouldn't suit me to work for him at all."

In the evening Deacon Pitkin came over to see Job Stanton, and
renewed his offer for Ben's services.

"The boy's got wild idees about pay," he said; "but boys haven't
much jedgment. You're a sensible man, Mr. Stanton, and you and me
can make a fair bargain."