The net profit for this week was fourteen dollars, with which he was abundantly pleased.
Mr.Bayard again commended him in the warmest terms for his zeal and promptness.

Mr.Timmins was even more civil than the last time, and when Bobby asked the price of Moore's Poems, he actually offered to sell it to him for thirty-three per cent less than the retail price.

The little merchant was on the point of purchasing it, when Mr.Bayard inquired what he wanted.
"I am going to buy this book," replied Bobby.
"Moore's Poems ?" "Yes, sir." Mr.Bayard took from a glass case an elegantly bound copy of the same work--morocco, full gilt--and handed it to our hero.
"I shall make you a present of this.

Are you an admirer of Moore ?" "No, sir; not exactly--that is, I don't know much about it; but Annie Lee does, and I want to get the book for her." Bobby's cheeks reddened as he turned the leaves of the beautiful volume, putting his head down to the page to hide his confusion.
"Annie Lee ?" said Mr.Bayard with a quizzing smile.

"I see how it is.