was that his conscience did not suffer him to take kindly to the "tricks
of the trade," in which his employer was a "passed master" and his
fellow-clerks very promising pupils. He could not find it in his heart to
depreciate the quality of Widow Perkins's butter, or to cajole unwary Sam
Struthers, from the backlands, into taking a shop-worn remnant for the
new dress his wife had so carefully commissioned him to buy. His idea of
trade was that you should deal with others as fairly as you would have
them deal with you; and while, of course, according to the squire's
philosophy, you could never make a full purse that way, still you could
at least have a clear conscience, which surely was the more desirable
after all.

The squire had noticed Frank's "pernickety nonsense," as he was pleased
to call it, and at first gave him several broad hints as to the better
mode of doing business; but finding that the lad was firm, and would no
doubt give up his place rather than learn these "business ways," he had
the good sense to let him alone, finding in his quickness, fidelity, and
attention to his work sufficient compensation for this deficiency in
bargaining acumen.

"You'll be content to stay at the shop now, won't you, Frank?" said his
mother as they talked over the welcome and much-needed rise of salary.

"It does seem to make it easier to stay, mother," answered Frank.
"But--" And he gave a big sigh, and stopped.

"But what, dear?" asked Mrs. Kingston, tenderly.

Frank was slow in answering. He evidently felt reluctant to bring up the
matter again, and yet his mind was full of it.