Now this was all very pleasant, but it was not long before our hero found himself overburdened with work.
"What is the matter Harry?
You look pale," said Ferguson, one morning.
"I have a bad headache, and am feeling out of sorts." "I don't wonder at it.

You are working too hard." "I don't know about that." "I do.

You do nearly as much as I, as a compositor.

Then you do all the editorial work, besides writing sketches for the Boston papers." "How can I get along with less?
The paper must be edited, and I shouldn't like giving up writing for the Boston papers." "I'll tell you what to do.

Take a boy and train him up as a printer.
After a while he will relieve you almost wholly, while, by the time he commands good wages, we shall be able to pay them." "It is a good idea, Ferguson.