" Pet was also by his side in an instant, and warmly shaking the
other hand. "You look real nice, Bog," said she. Mr. Wilkeson also came
forward, and said, "Don't you remember me, Bog?" and clasped him by the
right hand when the inventor had relinquished It.
Bog bowed and scraped and blushed, and murmured "Thank you, very well,"
several times, confusedly, and at last settled down into a chair which
was pushed under him by Pet. Having crossed his legs, he began to feel a
little more at ease.
"You've been very busy of late, haven't you, Bog?" asked Pet, charitably
anticipating an excuse for the boy's long absence.
"You'd better believe it," replied Bog, not looking at her, but studying
the pattern of his left boot. "The day after I called here last, Mr.
Fink he got a job to stick up bills for a new hair dye, all the way from
here to Dunkirk, on the Erie Railroad. Well, he couldn't go, cos he had
lots o' city posting, ye see; so he hires me to do it for ten dollars a
week and expenses. The pay was good, he said, because the work was
extry hard. The bills was to be posted on new whitewashed fences, new
houses, and places generally where there was signs up telling people not
to 'post no bills.
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