Unlike Roswell, he set a very low
estimate upon his qualifications when compared with those of other
applicants. But his modest bearing, and quiet, gentlemanly manner,
entirely free from pretension, prepossessed the shop-keeper, who was
a sensible man, in his favor.
"Do you reside in the city?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," said Henry.
"What is your age?"
"Twelve."
"Have you ever been in any situation?"
"No, sir."
"I should like to see a specimen of your handwriting.
Here, take the pen and write your name."
Henry Fosdick had a very handsome handwriting for a boy of his age,
while Roswell, who had submitted to the same test, could do little
more than scrawl.
"Do you reside with your parents?"
"No, sir, they are dead."
"Where do you live, then?"
"In Mott Street."
Roswell curled his lip when this name was pronounced, for Mott
Street, as my New York readers know, is in the immediate
neighborhood of the Five-Points, and very far from a fashionable
locality.
"Have you any testimonials to present?" asked Mr. Henderson, for
that was his name.
Fosdick hesitated. This was the question which he had foreseen would
give him trouble.
But at this moment it happened most opportunely that Mr. Greyson
entered the shop with the intention of buying a hat.
"Yes," said Fosdick, promptly; "I will refer to this gentleman."
"How do you do, Fosdick?" asked Mr. Greyson, noticing him for the
first time.
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