"Mr. Fells? Who is he?"
"He is an old man who has a shop over on Main Street, he puts up electric door-bells, burglar alarms, and other electrical appliances."
"I might have known you would desire that kind of work," replied Mrs. Bell, with a faint smile. "All your ideas seem to run upon electricity."
"I admit they do, aunt. I don't seem to care a rap for anything else. I would rather be a second Edison than the President of the United States!"
And Franklin's face glowed with enthusiasm as he spoke.
"In that case it is certainly the work you should go at. I don't believe in trying to put a boy at some occupation he doesn't care for, because he will never get very far along in it."
"I know I could get along in electricity," returned Franklin, with a decided shake of his head. "All I want is the start."
"Do you think Mr. Fells needs help?"
"I think so. A fellow named Gresson worked for him, but he used to be so irregular Mr. Fells discharged him."
Mrs. Bell was silent for a moment.
"Well, Franklin, do as you think best." she said. "It won't do to worry your poor uncle about it, and I know very little about such things."
So the following day, after Doctor Noble had called and reported favorably upon Mr. Bell's con-
