he would like to see a performance.
"We are billed to play in Duncan to-morrow evening, or rather this evening, for it's morning now."
"Duncan is only five miles away."
"If you want to attend I'll give you a pass. It's the least I can do to pay for turning you out of your bed."
"I could walk the five miles," said Jed.
"Then come. I'll see you at the door and pass you in. Ask for Harry Bertram."
"Thank you, Mr. Bertram."
"Old Fogson won't make a fuss about your going, will he?"
"Yes, he will; but I've made up my mind to leave the poorhouse, and I might as well leave it to-day as any time."
"Good! I admire your pluck."
"I wish I knew what I could do to make a living."
"Leave that to me. I'll arrange to have you travel with the show for two or three days and bunk with me. Have you got any—any better clothes than those?" and Bertram pointed to the dilapidated garments lying on a chair near by.
"Yes, I am promised a good suit by a friend of mine in the village. I'll go there and put them on before starting."
"Do; the actors sometimes look pretty tough, but I never saw one dressed like that."
"Jed!" screamed Mrs. Fogson from the bottom of the stairs. "You get right up and come down stairs!"
"They're calling me," said Jed, starting up.
"Will I have to get up too?"
"No; Mr. and Mrs. Fogson don't breakfast till seven. They'll send me up to call you."
"All right! We'll soon be travelling together where there are no Fogsons."
"I hope so," and Jed went down stairs with new life in his step.
CHAPTER IX.
JED LEAVES THE POORHOUSE
At eight o'clock Harry Bertram was summoned to breakfast in the private sitting-room of Mr. and Mrs. Fogson. In spite of the poor fare of which the paupers complained the Fogsons took care themselves to have appetizing meals, and the well-spread table looked really attractive.
"Sit down here, Mr. Bertram," said Mrs. Fogson, pointing to a seat. The place opposite was vacant, as the heads of the table were occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Fogson.
"Mrs. Fogson," said the actor, "I am going to ask a favor."
"What is it?" returned the lady, wreathing her features into a frosty smile.
"I see the seat opposite me is unoccupied. Will you oblige me by letting the boy Jed take it?"
Mrs. Fogson's face changed.
"I should prefer not to have him here," she answered in a forbidding tone.
"Of course I propose to pay for his breakfast the same price that I pay for my own."
"The boy is insubordinate and disobedient," said the lady coldly.
"Still he gave me his bed last night. Some boys would have objected."
"My dear," said Fogson, whose weakness for money has already been mentioned, "I think, as the gentleman has agreed to pay for Jed's breakfast, we may give our consent, merely to gratify him."
"Very well," answered Mrs. Fogson, resolved to claim the twenty-five cents for herself.
She rose from her seat, went to the window, and opening it, called to Jed, who was at work in the yard.
He speedily made his appearance.
"Sit down to the table, Jedediah," said Mr. Fogson with dignity. "Mr. Bertram desires you to breakfast with him."
Jed was very much surprised, but as he noted the warm biscuit and beefsteak, which emitted an appetizing odor, he felt that it was an invitation not to be rejected.
"I am very much obliged to Mr. Bertram," he said, "and also to you and Mrs. Fogson."
This was a politic remark to make, and he was served as liberally as the guest.
"Do you find your position a pleasant one, Mr. Fogson?" asked Bertram politely.
"No, Mr. Bertram, far from it. The paupers are a thankless, ungrateful set, but I am sustained by a sense of duty."
"The paupers were spoiled by our predecessors, Mr. and Mrs. Avery," chimed in Mrs. Fogson. "Really, Mr. Bertram, you would be surprised to learn how unreasonable they are. They are always complaining of their meals."
"I am sure they must be unreasonable if they complain of meals like this, Mrs. Fogson," said the actor.
"Of course we can't afford to treat them like this. The town would object. But we give them as good fare as we can afford. Are you going to stay long in Scranton?"
"No; I am merely passing through. I shall sleep to-night at Duncan."
"At the poorhouse?" asked Jed with a comical smile.
"Yes, if I could be sure of as good fare as this," replied the actor with an answering smile. "But that would be very doubtful."
Mrs. Fogson, who, cross-grained as she was, was not above flattery, mentally pronounced Mr. Bertram a most agreeable young man—in fact, a perfect gentleman.
"I am really ashamed," continued Bertram, "to have entered your house in such a condition, but I was feeling a little internal disturbance, and fancied that whisky would relieve it. Unfortunately I took too much."
"It might have happened to anyone," said Fogson considerately. "I am myself a temperance man, but sometimes I find whisky beneficial to my health."
Bertram, noticing the ruddy hue of Mr. Fogson's nose, was quite ready to believe this statement.
"May I ask if you are a business man?" remarked Fogson.
"My business is acting. I belong to the Gold King Company, which is to play at Duncan to-night."
"Indeed!" said Mrs. Fogson, with a glance of curiosity. "I never saw an actor before."
"I am sorry you should see such an unworthy representative of the Thespian art. If we were to play in Scranton, it would give me pleasure to offer you and Mr. Fogson complimentary tickets."
"I wish you were to play here," said Mrs. Fogson in a tone of regret. "I haven't seen a play for five years."
"I suppose you couldn't come to Duncan?"
"No; we could not be spared. Besides, we have no horse and carriage," said Fogson. "We must wait till you perform in Scranton."
Jed was very much relieved to hear this remark, for it would have interfered with his own plans if Mr. and Mrs. Fogson had accepted an invitation to witness the play at Duncan.
"Is it a good paying business?" asked Mr. Fogson.
"Well, so so. My salary is fifty dollars a week."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Fogson in envious surprise. "You ought to lay up money."
"It seems so, but in the summer we generally have a long vacation. Besides, we have to pay our hotel bills; so that, after all, we don't have as much left as you would suppose. Besides, we have to buy our costumes, and some of them are quite expensive."
In spite of these drawbacks the Fogsons evidently looked upon Bertram as a wealthy young man.
At length they rose from the table. Jed had never before eaten such a meal since he entered the poorhouse, and he felt in a degree envious of Mr. and Mrs. Fogson, who probably fared thus every day. When he considered, however, how they nearly starved the poor people of whom they had charge he felt indignant, and could not help wishing that some time they might exchange places with the unfortunate paupers.
He went out to the yard again, and resumed his work at the woodpile. Harry Bertram strolled out and lazily watched him.
"I suppose you never did work of this kind, Mr. Bertram?" said Jed.
"Oh yes, I lived for nearly a year with an aunt who required me to prepare all