The boy had a vague feeling that he must shift for himself--that every body was busy--that play in this life had ended and work begun.

The thought tasted to him much more like smelts than cake.
And while he was wisely left by Thomas Tray to familiarize himself with the entire novelty of the situation his mind flashed back to Delafield with an aching longing, and the boy would willingly have put his face in his hands and wept.

But he sat quietly looking at his companions--until Mr.Tray said, "Gabriel, I want you to copy this invoice." And Gabriel was a school-boy no longer..