He handed them to the right and left for passengers to examine, and after an interval¹ passed back again, to receive pay for any that might be selected, and gather up the rest.

"Here's the latest magazines!" he cried, in a pleasant voice. "Harpers, Scribner's, Lippincott's!"

As he is to be our hero, I will pause a moment to sketch² Paul Palmer.

He was a boy of sixteen, of medium height for a boy of that age, with dark brown hair, bright, sparkling[Pg 10] eyes, not without a suggestion of mirthfulness, and round cheeks, with a healthful color. It would be hard to find a more attractive-looking boy than Paul.

The first passenger he came to on his return round was an old lady, bordering upon seventy, who was quite unaccustomed to traveling, and knew very little of railways and their customs.

When the magazine had been put in her hands she received it with glad complacency, supposing it to be a gift from the railroad corporation.

She hunted up her spectacles, and was looking at the pictures with considerable interest when Paul touched her on the arm.

"Want my ticket a'ready?" she asked, thinking it to be the conductor.

"No, ma'am," answered Paul, smiling. "Please give me the magazine."

"Why, you give it to me yourself," said the old lady in surprise.

"No, I only handed it to you to examine," said Paul.

"I thought, to be sure, you give it to me, and I was goin' to carry it to my darter Sarah Ann as a present. I'm goin' to spend a week with Sarah Ann."

Paul smiled.

He had met before unsophisticated travelers ready[Pg 11] to impart their family affairs to any one sufficiently³ interested to listen to them.

"You can do it now," he said, "if you will buy the magazine. Every body likes to read Harper's."

"How much do you ax for it?" asked the old lady, cautiously.

"Thirty-five cents."

"Lands sake!" exclaimed the old lady, in dismay. "Thirty-five cents for a picture-book!"

"There's some very nice reading in it, ma'am," said Paul, patiently.

"Maybe there is, but there ain't any covers."

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