Chester Rand | Page 5

him, but I have some writing to
do, and you will do just as well."
"I shall be very happy to go with Mr. Conrad," said Chester, politely.
"And I shall be very glad to have you," said the young man, with a
pleasant smile.
"Come back to supper, Chester," said the minister; "that is, if your
mother can spare you."
"Thank you, sir. I suppose you will be able to carry back the empty

basket, Abel," added Chester, as his successor emerged from the side
door, relieved of his burden.
"I guess so," answered Abel, with a grin.
"I was never in Wyncombe before," began Mr. Conrad, "though I am a
second cousin of your minister, Mr. Morris. I have to go away
to-morrow morning, and wish to see a little of the town while I am
here."
"Where do you live, Mr. Conrad?"
"In the city of New York."
"Are you a minister, too?"
"Oh, no!" laughed the young man. "I am in a very different business. I
am an artist--in a small way. I make sketches for books and
magazines."
"And does that pay?"
"Fairly well. I earn a comfortable living."
"I didn't know one could get money for making pictures. I like to draw,
myself."
"I will see what you can do this evening; that is, if you accept my
cousin's invitation."
Before the walk was over Chester had become much interested in his
new friend. He listened eagerly to his stories of the great city, and felt
that life must be much better worth living there than in Wyncombe.
CHAPTER III.
A NOTEWORTHY EVENING.
Chester enjoyed his supper. Mr. Morris, though a minister, had none of

the starched dignity that many of his profession think it necessary to
assume. He was kindly and genial, with a pleasant humor that made
him agreeable company for the young as well as the old. Mr. Conrad
spoke much of New York and his experiences there, and Chester
listened to him eagerly.
"You have never been to New York, Chester?" said the young artist.
"No, sir, but I have read about it--and dreamed about it. Sometime I
hope to go there."
"I think that is the dream of every country boy. Well, it is the country
boys that make the most successful men."
"How do you account for that, Herbert?" asked the minister.
"Generally they have been brought up to work, and work more
earnestly than the city boys."
When the supper table was cleared, Mr. Conrad took from his valise
two or three of the latest issues of Puck, Judge and Life. He handed
them to Chester, who looked over them eagerly.
"Do you ever contribute to these papers, Mr. Conrad?" he asked.
"Yes; here is a sketch in Judge, and another in Life, which I furnished."
"And do you get good pay for them?"
"I received ten dollars for each."
Chester's eyes opened with surprise.
"Why," he said, "they are small. It couldn't have taken you long to draw
them."
"Probably half an hour for each one."
"And you received ten dollars each?"

"Yes, but don't gauge such work by the time it takes. It is the idea that
is of value. The execution is a minor matter."
Chester looked thoughtful.
"I should like to be an artist," he said, after a pause.
"Won't you give me a specimen of your work? You have seen mine."
"I have not done any comic work, but I think I could."
"Here is a piece of drawing paper. Now, let me see what you can do."
Chester leaned his head on his hand and began to think. He was in
search of an idea. The young artist watched him with interest. At last
his face brightened up. He seized the pencil, and began to draw rapidly.
In twenty minutes he handed the paper to Mr. Conrad.
The latter looked at it in amazement.
"Why, you are an artist," he said. "I had no idea you were capable of
such work."
"I am glad you like it," said Chester, much pleased.
"How long have you been drawing?"
"Ever since I can remember. I used to make pictures in school on my
slate. Some of them got me into trouble with the teacher."
"I can imagine it, if you caricatured him. Did you ever take lessons?"
"No; there was no one in Wyncombe to teach me. But I got hold of a
drawing book once, and that helped me."
"Do you know what I am going to do with this sketch of yours?"
Chester looked an inquiry.

"I will take it to New York with me, and see if I can dispose of it."
"I am afraid it won't be of much use, Mr. Conrad. I am only a boy."
"If a sketch is good, it