We took the first who applied, and all the other letters were chucked into the fire as soon as we saw what they were about." Frank returned to the street greatly disheartened.
"Four hundred and thirty letters!" he said.

"Four hundred and thirty other fellows on the lookout, just as I am, for a place as a boy clerk, and lots of them, no doubt, with friends and relations to recommend them! The lookout seems to be a bad one." Two days later, when Frank was walking along the strand he noticed the placards in front of a theater.
"Gallery one shilling!" he said to himself; "I will go.

I have never seen a theater yet." The play was The Merchant of Venice, and Frank sat in rapt attention and interest through it.

When the performance was over he walked briskly homewards.

When he had proceeded some distance he saw a glare in the sky ahead, and presently a steam engine dashed past him at full speed.
"That must be a house on fire," he said.