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diff --git a/293-h/293-h.htm b/293-h/293-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..08bb444 --- /dev/null +++ b/293-h/293-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11679 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Paul Prescott's Charge, by Horatio Alger, Jr. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Paul Prescott's Charge, by Horatio Alger + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Paul Prescott's Charge + +Author: Horatio Alger + +Release Date: March 14, 2006 [EBook #293] +Last Updated: January 9, 2019 + + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE. + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Horatio Alger, Jr. + </h2> + <h5> + Alger Series For Boys. {About 50 Titles} Uniform With This Volume. + </h5> + <h4> + TO <br /> The Boys <br /> Whose Memory Goes Back With Me <br /> To The + Boarding School <br /> At Potowome <br /> This Volume Is Affectionately + Dedicated <br /> By <br /> The Author. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a><br /> <br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE</b> </a> <br /> <br /> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I. -- SQUIRE NEWCOME. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II. -- PAUL PRESCOTT'S HOME. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> III. -- PAUL'S BRILLIANT PROSPECTS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV. -- LIFE IN A NEW PHASE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V. -- A CRISIS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI. -- PAUL'S DETERMINATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII. -- PAUL BEGINS HIS JOURNEY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII. -- A FRIEND IN NEED. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX. -- A CLOUD IN THE MUDGE HORIZON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X. -- MR. MUDGE MEETS HIS MATCH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI. -- WAYSIDE GOSSIP. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII. -- ON THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII. -- PAUL REACHES THE CITY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. -- A STRANGE BED-CHAMBER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. -- A TURN OF FORTUNE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVI. -- YOUNG STUPID. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVII. -- BEN'S PRACTICAL JOKE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XVIII. -- MORE ABOUT BEN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XIX. -- MRS. MUDGE'S DISCOMFITURE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XX. -- PAUL OBTAINS A SITUATION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXI. -- SMITH AND THOMPSON'S YOUNG MAN. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXII. -- MR. BENTON'S ADVENTURE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIII. -- PAUL LOSES HIS SITUATION AND GAINS A FRIEND. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXIV. -- PAUL CALLS ON MRS. DANFORTH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXV. -- AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVI. -- A VULGAR RELATION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXVII. -- MR. MUDGE'S FRIGHT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXVIII. -- HOW BEN GOT HOME. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXIX. -- DAWKINS IN DIFFICULTIES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXX. -- A TRAP IS LAID FOR PAUL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXXI. -- CONVICTED OF THEFT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> XXXII. -- RIGHT TRIUMPHANT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> XXXIII. -- PAUL REDEEMS HIS PLEDGE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> XXXIV. -- HOW PAUL GOES BACK TO WRENVILLE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> XXXV. -- CONCLUSION. </a> + </p> + + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + “PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE” is presented to the public as the second volume + of the Campaign Series. Though wholly unlike the first volume, it is + written in furtherance of the same main idea, that every boy's life is a + campaign, more or less difficult, in which success depends upon integrity + and a steadfast adherence to duty. + </p> + <p> + How Paul Prescott gained strength by battling with adverse circumstances, + and, under all discouragements, kept steadily before him the charge which + he received from his dying father, is fully told; and the author will be + glad if the record shall prove an incentive and an encouragement to those + boys who may have a similar campaign before them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <h3> + SQUIRE NEWCOME. + </h3> + <p> + “HANNAH!” + </p> + <p> + The speaker was a tall, pompous-looking man, whose age appeared to verge + close upon fifty. He was sitting bolt upright in a high-backed chair, and + looked as if it would be quite impossible to deviate from his position of + unbending rigidity. + </p> + <p> + Squire Benjamin Newcome, as he was called, in the right of his position as + Justice of the Peace, Chairman of the Selectmen, and wealthiest resident + of Wrenville, was a man of rule and measure. He was measured in his walk, + measured in his utterance, and measured in all his transactions. He might + be called a dignified machine. He had a very exalted conception of his own + position, and the respect which he felt to be his due, not only from his + own household, but from all who approached him. If the President of the + United States had called upon him, Squire Newcome would very probably have + felt that he himself was the party who conferred distinction, and not + received it. + </p> + <p> + Squire Newcome was a widower. His wife, who was as different from himself + as could well be conceived, did not live long after marriage. She was + chilled to death, as it was thought, by the dignified iceberg of whose + establishment she had become a part. She had left, however, a child, who + had now grown to be a boy of twelve. This boy was a thorn in the side of + his father, who had endeavored in vain to mould him according to his idea + of propriety. But Ben was gifted with a spirit of fun, sometimes running + into mischief, which was constantly bursting out in new directions, in + spite of his father's numerous and rather prosy lectures. + </p> + <p> + “Han-nah!” again called Squire Newcome, separating the two syllables by a + pause of deliberation, and strongly accenting the last syllable,—a + habit of his with all proper names. + </p> + <p> + Hannah was the Irish servant of all work, who was just then engaged in + mixing up bread in the room adjoining, which was the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + Feeling a natural reluctance to appear before her employer with her hands + covered with dough, she hastily washed them. All this, however, took time, + and before she responded to the first summons, the second “Han-nah!” + delivered with a little sharp emphasis, had been uttered. + </p> + <p> + At length she appeared at the door of the sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Han-nah!” said Squire Newcome, fixing his cold gray eye upon her, “when + you hear my voice a calling you, it is your duty to answer the summons + IMMEJIATELY.” + </p> + <p> + I have endeavored to represent the Squire's pronunciation of the last + word. + </p> + <p> + “So I would have come IMMEJOUSLY,” said Hannah, displaying a most + reprehensible ignorance, “but me hands were all covered with flour.” + </p> + <p> + “That makes no difference,” interrupted the Squire. “Flour is an + accidental circumstance.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” thought Hannah, opening her eyes in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “And should not be allowed to interpose an obstacle to an IMMEJIATE answer + to my summons.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Hannah, who guessed at the meaning though she did not + understand the words, “you wouldn't have me dirty the door-handle with me + doughy hands?” + </p> + <p> + “That could easily be remedied by ablution.” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any ablution in the house,” said the mystified Hannah. + </p> + <p> + “I mean,” Squire Newcome condescended to explain, “the application of + water—in short, washing.” + </p> + <p> + “Shure,” said Hannah, as light broke in upon her mind, “I never knew that + was what they called it before.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Ben-ja-min at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. He was out playin' in the yard a minute ago. I guess you can + see him from the winder.” + </p> + <p> + So saying she stepped forward, and looking out, all at once gave a shrill + scream, and rushed from the room, leaving her employer in his bolt-upright + attitude gazing after her with as much astonishment as he was capable of. + </p> + <p> + The cause of her sudden exit was revealed on looking out of the window. + </p> + <p> + Master Benjamin, or Ben, as he was called everywhere except in his own + family, had got possession of the black kitten, and appeared to be + submerging her in the hogshead of rainwater. + </p> + <p> + “O, you wicked, cruel boy, to drown poor Kitty!” exclaimed the indignant + Hannah, rushing into the yard and endeavoring to snatch her feline + favorite—an attempt which Ben stoutly resisted. + </p> + <p> + Doubtless the poor kitten would have fared badly between the two, had not + the window opened, and the deliberate voice of his father, called out in + tones which Ben saw fit to heed. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Come into my presence immejiately, and learn to answer me with more + respect.” + </p> + <p> + Ben came in looking half defiant. + </p> + <p> + His father, whose perpendicularity made him look like a sitting grenadier, + commenced the examination thus:— + </p> + <p> + “I wish you to inform me what you was a doing of when I spoke to you.” + </p> + <p> + It will be observed that the Squire's dignified utterances were sometimes + a little at variance with the rule of the best modern grammarians. + </p> + <p> + “I was trying to prevent Hannah from taking the kitten,” said Ben. + </p> + <p> + “What was you a doing of before Hannah went out?” + </p> + <p> + “Playing with Kitty.” + </p> + <p> + “Why were you standing near the hogshead, Benjamin?” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Ben, ingenuously, “the hogshead happened to be near me—that + was all.” + </p> + <p> + “Were you not trying to drown the kitten?” + </p> + <p> + “O, I wouldn't drown her for anything,” said Ben with an injured + expression, mentally adding, “short of a three-cent piece.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, to repeat my interrogatory, what was you a doing of with the kitten + in the hogshead?” + </p> + <p> + “I was teaching her to swim,” said Ben, looking out of the corner of his + eye at his father, to see what impression this explanation made upon him. + </p> + <p> + “And what advantageous result do you think would be brought about by + teaching of the kitten to swim, Benjamin?” persisted his father. + </p> + <p> + “Advantageous result!” repeated Ben, demurely, pretending not to + understand. + </p> + <p> + “Certingly.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not study your dictionary at school, Benjamin?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I don't like it much.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very much in error. You will never learn to employ your tongue + with elegance and precision, unless you engage in this beneficial study.” + </p> + <p> + “I can use my tongue well enough, without studying grammar,” said Ben. He + proceeded to illustrate the truth of this assertion by twisting his tongue + about in a comical manner. + </p> + <p> + “Tongue,” exclaimed his father, “is but another name for language I mean + your native language.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Ben was about to leave the room to avoid further questions of an + embarrassing nature, when his father interrupted his exit by saying— + </p> + <p> + “Stay, Benjamin, do not withdraw till I have made all the inquiries which + I intend.” + </p> + <p> + The boy unwillingly returned. + </p> + <p> + “You have not answered my question.” + </p> + <p> + “I've forgotten what it was.” + </p> + <p> + “What good would it do?” asked the Squire, simplifying his speech to reach + Ben's comprehension, “what good would it do to teach the kitten to swim?” + </p> + <p> + “O, I thought,” said Ben, hesitating, “that some time or other she might + happen to fall into the water, and might not be able to get out unless she + knew how.” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said his father with an unusual display of sagacity, “that she + will be in much greater hazard of drowning while learning to swim under + your direction than by any other chance likely to befall her.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't wonder,” was Ben's mental comment, “Pretty cute for you, dad.” + </p> + <p> + Fortunately, Ben did not express his thoughts aloud. They would have + implied such an utter lack of respect that the Squire would have been + quite overwhelmed by the reflection that his impressive manners had + produced no greater effect on one who had so excellent a chance of being + impressed by them. + </p> + <p> + “Benjamin,” concluded his father, “I have an errand for you to execute. + You may go to Mr. Prescott's and see if he is yet living. I hear that he + is a lying on the brink of the grave.” + </p> + <p> + An expression of sadness stole over the usually merry face of Ben, as he + started on his errand. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Paul!” he thought, “what will he do when his father dies? He's such + a capital fellow, too. I just wish I had a wagon load of money, I do, and + I'd give him half. That's so!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL PRESCOTT'S HOME. + </h3> + <p> + We will precede Ben on his visit to the house of Mr. Prescott. + </p> + <p> + It was an old weather-beaten house, of one story, about half a mile + distant from 'Squire Newcome's residence. The Prescott family had lived + here for five years, or ever since they had removed to Wrenville. Until + within a year they had lived comfortably, when two blows came in quick + succession. The first was the death of Mrs. Prescott, an excellent woman, + whose loss was deeply felt by her husband and son. Soon afterwards Mr. + Prescott, a carpenter by trade, while at work upon the roof of a high + building, fell off, and not only broke his leg badly, but suffered some + internal injury of a still more serious nature. He had not been able to do + a stroke of work since. After some months it became evident that he would + never recover. A year had now passed. During this time his expenses had + swallowed up the small amount which he had succeeded in laying up previous + to his sickness. It was clear that at his death there would be nothing + left. At thirteen years of age Paul would have to begin the world without + a penny. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Prescott lay upon a bed in a small bedroom adjoining the kitchen. + Paul, a thoughtful-looking boy sat beside it, ready to answer his call. + </p> + <p> + There had been silence for some time, when Mr. Prescott called feebly— + </p> + <p> + “Paul!” + </p> + <p> + “I am here, father,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I am almost gone, Paul, I don't think I shall last through the day.” + </p> + <p> + “O, father,” said Paul, sorrowfully, “Don't leave me.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the only grief I have in dying—I must leave you to struggle + for yourself, Paul. I shall be able to leave you absolutely nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't think of that, father. I am young and strong—I can earn my + living in some way.” + </p> + <p> + “I hoped to live long enough to give you an education. I wanted you to + have a fairer start in the world than I had.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, father,” said Paul, soothingly, “Don't be uneasy about me. + God will provide for me.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was a silence, broken only by the difficult breathing of the + sick man. + </p> + <p> + He spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “There is one thing, Paul, that I want to tell you before I die.” + </p> + <p> + Paul drew closer to the bedside. + </p> + <p> + “It is something which has troubled me as I lay here. I shall feel easier + for speaking of it. You remember that we lived at Cedarville before we + came here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father.” + </p> + <p> + “About two years before we left there, a promising speculation was brought + to my notice. An agent of a Lake Superior mine visited our village and + represented the mine in so favorable a light that many of my neighbors + bought shares, fully expecting to double their money in a year. Among the + rest I was attacked with the fever of speculation. I had always been + obliged to work hard for a moderate compensation, and had not been able to + do much more than support my family. This it seemed to me, afforded an + excellent opportunity of laying up a little something which might render + me secure in the event of a sudden attack of sickness. I had but about two + hundred dollars, however, and from so scanty an investment I could not, of + course, expect a large return; accordingly I went to Squire Conant; you + remember him, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father.” + </p> + <p> + 'I went to him and asked a loan of five hundred dollars. After some + hesitation he agreed to lend it to me. He was fond of his money and not + much given to lending, but it so happened that he had invested in the same + speculation, and had a high opinion of it, so he felt pretty safe in + advancing me the money. Well, this loan gave me seven hundred dollars, + with which I purchased seven shares in the Lake Superior Grand Combination + Mining Company. For some months afterwards, I felt like a rich man. I + carefully put away my certificate of stock, looking upon it as the + beginning of a competence. But at the end of six months the bubble burst—the + stock proved to be utterly worthless,—Squire Conant lost five + thousand dollars. I lost seven hundred, five hundred being borrowed money. + The Squire's loss was much larger, but mine was the more serious, since I + lost everything and was plunged into debt, while he had at least forty + thousand dollars left. + </p> + <p> + “Two days after the explosion, Squire Conant came into my shop and asked + abruptly when I could pay him the amount I had borrowed. I told him that I + could not fix a time. I said that I had been overwhelmed by a result so + contrary to my anticipations, but I told him I would not rest till I had + done something to satisfy his claim. He was always an unreasonable man, + and reproached me bitterly for sinking his money in a useless speculation, + as if I could foresee how it would end any better than he.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you ever been able to pay back any part of the five hundred dollars, + father?” + </p> + <p> + “I have paid the interest regularly, and a year ago, just before I met + with my accident, I had laid up a hundred and fifty dollars which I had + intended to pay the Squire, but when my sickness came I felt obliged to + retain it to defray our expenses, being cut off from earning anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose you have not been able to pay interest for the last year.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard from the Squire lately?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I had a letter only last week. You remember bringing me one + postmarked Cedarville?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I wondered at the time who it could be from.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find it on the mantelpiece. I should like to have you get it and + read it.” + </p> + <p> + Paul readily found the letter. It was enclosed in a brown envelope, + directed in a bold hand to “Mr. John Prescott, Wrenville.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was as follows:— + </p> + <p> + CEDARVILLE, APRIL 15, 18—, MR. JOHN PRESCOTT:— + </p> + <p> + SIR: I have been waiting impatiently to hear something about the five + hundred dollars in which sum you are indebted to me, on account of a loan + which I was fool enough to make you seven years since. I thought you an + honest man, but I have found, to my cost, that I was mistaken. For the + last year you have even failed to pay interest as stipulated between us. + Your intention is evident. I quite understand that you have made up your + mind to defraud me of what is rightfully mine. I don't know how you may + regard this, but I consider it as bad as highway robbery. I do not + hesitate to say that if you had your deserts you would be in the + Penitentiary. Let me advise you, if you wish to avoid further trouble, to + make no delay in paying a portion of this debt. Yours, etc. EZEKIEL + CONANT. + </p> + <p> + Paul's face flushed with indignation as he read this bitter and cruel + letter. + </p> + <p> + “Does Squire Conant know that you are sick, father?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I wrote him about my accident, telling him at the same time that I + regretted it in part on account of the interruption which it must occasion + in my payments.” + </p> + <p> + “And knowing this, he wrote such a letter as that,” said Paul, + indignantly, “what a hard, unfeeling wretch he must be!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is vexatious to him to be kept out of his money.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has plenty more. He would never miss it if he had given it to you + outright.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not the way to look at it, Paul. The money is justly his, and it + is a great sorrow to me that I must die without paying it.” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Paul, after a pause, “will it be any relief to you, if I + promise to pay it,—that is, if I am ever able?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Prescott's face brightened. + </p> + <p> + “That was what I wanted to ask you, Paul. It will be a comfort to me to + feel that there is some hope of the debt being paid at some future day.” + </p> + <p> + “Then don't let it trouble you any longer, father. The debt shall be mine, + and I will pay it.” + </p> + <p> + Again a shadow passed over the sick man's face, “Poor boy,” he said, “why + should I burden your young life with such a load? You will have to + struggle hard enough as it is. No, Paul, recall your promise. I don't want + to purchase comfort at such a price.” + </p> + <p> + “No, father,” said Paul sturdily, “it is too late now. I have made the + promise and I mean to stick to it. Besides, it will give me something to + live for. I am young—I may have a great many years before me. For + thirteen years you have supported me. It is only right that I should make + what return I can. I'll keep my promise, father.” + </p> + <p> + “May God help and prosper you, my boy,” said Mr. Prescott, solemnly. + “You've been a good son; I pray that you may grow up to be a good man. + But, my dear, I feel tired. I think I will try to go to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Paul smoothed the comforter, adjusting it carefully about his father's + neck, and going to the door went out in search of some wood to place upon + the fire. Their scanty stock of firewood was exhausted, and Paul was + obliged to go into the woods near by, to obtain such loose fagots as he + might find upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + He was coming back with his load when his attention was drawn by a + whistle. Looking up he discovered Ben Newcome approaching him. + </p> + <p> + “How are you, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty well, Ben.” + </p> + <p> + “How precious lonesome you must be, mewed up in the house all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is lonesome, but I wouldn't mind that if I thought father would + ever get any better.” + </p> + <p> + “How is he this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty low; I expect he is asleep. He said he was tired just before I + went out.” + </p> + <p> + “I brought over something for you,” said Ben, tugging away at his pocket. + </p> + <p> + Opening a paper he displayed a couple of apple turnovers fried brown. + </p> + <p> + “I found 'em in the closet,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Won't Hannah make a precious row when she finds 'em gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I don't know as I ought to take them,” said Paul, though, to tell + the truth, they looked tempting to him. + </p> + <p> + “O, nonsense,” said Ben; “they don't belong to Hannah. She only likes to + scold a little; it does her good.” + </p> + <p> + The two boys sat on the doorstep and talked while Paul ate the turnovers. + Ben watched the process with much satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't they prime?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “First rate,” said Paul; “won't you have one?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Ben; “you see I thought while I was about it I might as well + take four, so I ate two coming along.” + </p> + <p> + In about fifteen minutes Paul went into the house to look at his father. + He was lying very quietly upon the bed. Paul drew near and looked at him + more closely. There was something in the expression of his father's face + which terrified him. + </p> + <p> + Ben heard his sudden cry of dismay, and hurriedly entered. + </p> + <p> + Paul pointed to the bed, and said briefly, “Father's dead!” + </p> + <p> + Ben, who in spite of his mischievous propensities was gifted with a warm + heart, sat down beside Paul, and passing his arm round his neck, gave him + that silent sympathy which is always so grateful to the grief-stricken + heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL'S BRILLIANT PROSPECTS. + </h3> + <p> + Two days later, the funeral of Mr. Prescott took place. + </p> + <p> + Poor Paul! It seemed to him a dream of inexpressible sorrow. His father + and mother both gone, he felt that he was indeed left alone in the world. + No thought of the future had yet entered his mind. He was wholly occupied + with his present sorrow. Desolate at heart he slipped away from the + graveyard after the funeral ceremony was over, and took his way back again + to the lonely dwelling which he had called home. + </p> + <p> + As he was sitting in the corner, plunged in sorrowful thought, there was a + scraping heard at the door, and a loud hem! + </p> + <p> + Looking up, Paul saw entering the cottage the stiff form of Squire + Benjamin Newcome, who, as has already been stated, was the owner. + </p> + <p> + “Paul,” said the Squire, with measured deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean me, sir?” asked Paul, vaguely conscious that his name had + been called. + </p> + <p> + “Did I not address you by your baptismal appellation?” demanded the + Squire, who thought the boy's question superfluous. + </p> + <p> + “Paul,” pursued Squire Newcome, “have you thought of your future + destination?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Paul, “I suppose I shall live here.” + </p> + <p> + “That arrangement would not be consistent with propriety. I suppose you + are aware that your deceased parent left little or no worldly goods.” + </p> + <p> + “I know he was poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Therefore it has been thought best that you should be placed in charge of + a worthy man, who I see is now approaching the house. You will therefore + accompany him without resistance. If you obey him and read the Bible + regularly, you will—ahem!—you will some time or other see the + advantage of it.” + </p> + <p> + With this consolatory remark Squire Newcome wheeled about and strode out + of the house. + </p> + <p> + Immediately afterwards there entered a rough-looking man arrayed in a + farmer's blue frock. + </p> + <p> + “You're to come with me, youngster,” said Mr. Nicholas Mudge, for that was + his name. + </p> + <p> + “With you?” said Paul, recoiling instinctively. + </p> + <p> + In fact there was nothing attractive in the appearance or manners of Mr. + Mudge. He had a coarse hard face, while his head was surmounted by a shock + of red hair, which to all appearance had suffered little interference from + the comb for a time which the observer would scarcely venture to compute. + There was such an utter absence of refinement about the man, that Paul, + who had been accustomed to the gentle manners of his father, was repelled + by the contrast which this man exhibited. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure you're to go with me,” said Mr. Mudge. “You did not calc'late + you was a goin' to stay here by yourself, did you? We've got a better + place for you than that. But the wagon's waitin' outside, so just be + lively and bundle in, and I'll carry you to where you're a goin' to live.” + </p> + <p> + “Where's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Wal, some folks call it the Poor House, but it ain't any the worse for + that, I expect. Anyhow, them as has no money may feel themselves lucky to + get so good a home. So jest be a movin', for I can't be a waitin' here all + day.” + </p> + <p> + Paul quietly submitted himself to the guidance of Mr. Mudge. He was so + occupied with the thought of his sad loss that he did not realize the + change that was about to take place in his circumstances. + </p> + <p> + About half a mile from the village in the bleakest and most desolate part + of the town, stood the Poor House. It was a crazy old building of extreme + antiquity, which, being no longer considered fit for an ordinary + dwelling-house, had been selected as a suitable residence for the town's + poor. It was bleak and comfortless to be sure, but on that very account + had been purchased at a trifling expense, and that was, of course, a + primary consideration. Connected with the house were some dozen acres of + rough-looking land, plentifully overspread with stones, which might have + filled with despair the most enterprising agriculturist. However, it had + this recommendation at least, that it was quite in character with the + buildings upon it, which in addition to the house already described, + consisted of a barn of equal antiquity and a pig pen. + </p> + <p> + This magnificent domain was under the superintendence of Mr. Nicholas + Mudge, who in consideration of taking charge of the town paupers had the + use of the farm and buildings, rent free, together with a stipulated + weekly sum for each of the inmates. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Paul,” said Mr. Mudge, as they approached the house, in a tone + which was meant to be encouraging, “this is goin' to be your home. How do + you like it?” + </p> + <p> + Thus addressed, Paul ventured a glance around him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said he, doubtfully; “it don't look very pleasant.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't look very pleasant!” repeated Mr. Mudge in a tone of mingled + amazement and indignation. “Well, there's gratitude for you. After the + town has been at the expense of providin' a nice, comfortable home for + you, because you haven't got any of your own, you must turn up your nose + at it.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to complain,” said Paul, feeling very little interest in + the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you expected to live in a marble palace,” pursued Mr. Mudge, in + an injured tone. “We don't have any marble palaces in this neighborhood, + we don't.” + </p> + <p> + Paul disclaimed any such anticipation. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge deigned to accept Paul's apology, and as they had now reached + the door, unceremoniously threw it open, and led the way into a room with + floor unpainted, which, to judge from its appearance, was used as a + kitchen. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <h3> + LIFE IN A NEW PHASE. + </h3> + <p> + Everything was “at sixes and sevens,” as the saying is, in the room Mr. + Mudge and Paul had just entered. In the midst of the scene was a large + stout woman, in a faded calico dress, and sleeves rolled up, working as if + her life or the world's destiny depended upon it. + </p> + <p> + It was evident from the first words of Mr. Mudge that this lady was his + helpmeet. + </p> + <p> + “Well, wife,” he said, “I've brought you another boarder. You must try to + make him as happy and contented as the rest of 'em are.” + </p> + <p> + From the tone of the speaker, the last words might be understood to be + jocular. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge, whose style of beauty was not improved by a decided squint, + fixed a scrutinizing gaze upon Paul, and he quite naturally returned it. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you ever seen anybody before, boy? I guess you'll know me next + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't wonder if he did,” chuckled Mr. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know where on earth we shall put him,” remarked the lady. “We're + full now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, put him anywhere. I suppose you won't be very particular about your + accommodations?” said Mr. Mudge turning to Paul. + </p> + <p> + Paul very innocently answered in the negative, thereby affording Mr. Mudge + not a little amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's lucky,” he said, “because our best front chamber's occupied + just now. We'd have got it ready for you if you'd only wrote a week ago to + tell us you were coming. You can just stay round here,” he said in a + different tone as he was about leaving the room, “Mrs. Mudge will maybe + want you to do something for her. You can sit down till she calls on you.” + </p> + <p> + It was washing day with Mrs. Mudge, and of course she was extremely busy. + The water was to be brought from a well in the yard, and to this office + Paul was at once delegated. It was no easy task, the full pails tugging + most unmercifully at his arms. However, this was soon over, and Mrs. Mudge + graciously gave him permission to go into the adjoining room, and make + acquaintance with his fellow-boarders. + </p> + <p> + There were nine of them in all, Paul, the newcomer making the tenth. They + were all advanced in years, except one young woman, who was prevented by + mental aberration from supporting herself outside the walls of the + Institution. + </p> + <p> + Of all present, Paul's attention was most strongly attracted towards one + who appeared more neatly and scrupulously attired than any of the rest. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy Lee, or plain Aunt Lucy, for in her present abode she had small + use for her last name, was a benevolent-looking old lady, who both in + dress and manners was distinguished from her companions. She rose from her + knitting, and kindly took Paul by the hand. Children are instinctive + readers of character, and Paul, after one glance at her benevolent face, + seated himself contentedly beside her. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said the old lady, socially, “you've come to live with us. We + must do all we can to make you comfortable. Your name is Paul Prescott, I + think Mrs. Mudge said.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am,” answered Paul, watching the rapid movement of the old lady's + fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Mine is Aunt Lucy,” she continued, “that is what everybody calls me. So + now we know each other, and shall soon be good friends, I hope. I suppose + you have hardly been here long enough to tell how you shall like it.” + </p> + <p> + Paul confessed that thus far he did not find it very pleasant. + </p> + <p> + “No, I dare say not,” said Aunt Lucy, “I can't say I think it looks very + attractive myself. However, it isn't wholly the fault of Mr. and Mrs. + Mudge. They can't afford to do much better, for the town allows them very + little.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy's remarks were here interrupted by the apparition of the worthy + landlady at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Dinner's ready, folks,” said that lady, with little ceremony, “and you + must come out quick if you want any, for I'm drove with work, and can't be + hindered long.” + </p> + <p> + The summons was obeyed with alacrity, and the company made all haste to + the dining-room, or rather the kitchen, for it was here that the meals + were eaten. + </p> + <p> + In the center of the room was set a table without a cloth, a table-cloth + being considered a luxury quite superfluous. Upon this were placed several + bowls of thin, watery liquid, intended for soup, but which, like city + milk, was diluted so as hardly to be distinguishable. Beside each bowl was + a slice of bread. + </p> + <p> + Such was the bill of fare. + </p> + <p> + “Now, folks, the sooner you fall to the better,” exclaimed the energetic + Mrs. Mudge, who was one of those driving characters, who consider any time + spent at the table beyond ten minutes as so much time wasted. + </p> + <p> + The present company appeared to need no second invitation. Their scanty + diet had the positive advantage of giving them a good appetite; otherwise + the quality of their food might have daunted them. + </p> + <p> + Paul took his place beside Aunt Lucy. Mechanically he did as the rest, + carrying to his mouth a spoonful of the liquid. But his appetite was not + sufficiently accustomed to Poor House regime to enable him to relish its + standing dish, and he laid down his spoon with a disappointed look. + </p> + <p> + He next attacked the crust of bread, but found it too dry to be palatable. + </p> + <p> + “Please, ma'am,” said he to Mrs. Mudge, “I should like some butter.” + </p> + <p> + Paul's companions dropped their spoons in astonishment at his daring, and + Mrs. Mudge let fall a kettle she was removing from the fire, in sheer + amazement. + </p> + <p> + “What did you ask for?” she inquired, as if to make sure that her ears did + not deceive her. + </p> + <p> + “A little butter,” repeated Paul, unconscious of the great presumption of + which he had been guilty. + </p> + <p> + “You want butter, do you?” repeated Mr. Mudge. “Perhaps you'd like a slice + of beefsteak and a piece of plum-pudding too, wouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I should very much,” said Paul, resolved to tell the truth, although he + now began to perceive the sarcasm in his landlady's tone. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't anything more you would like, is there?” inquired the lady, + with mock politeness. + </p> + <p> + “No, ma'am,” returned Paul after a pause, “I believe not, to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Very moderate, upon my word,” exclaimed Mrs. Mudge, giving vent at length + to her pentup indignation. “You'll be contented with butter and roast beef + and plum-pudding! A mighty fine gentleman, to be sure. But you won't get + them here, I'll be bound.” + </p> + <p> + “So will I,” thought Aunt Lucy. + </p> + <p> + “If you ain't satisfied with what I give you,” pursued Mrs. Mudge, “you'd + better go somewhere else. You can put up at some of the great hotels. + Butter, forsooth!” + </p> + <p> + Having thus given expression to her feelings, she left the room, and Paul + was left to finish his dinner with the best appetite he could command. He + was conscious that he had offended Mrs. Mudge, but the thoughts of his + recent great sorrow swallowed up all minor annoyances, so that the words + of his estimable landlady were forgotten almost as soon as they were + uttered. He felt that he must henceforth look for far different treatment + from that to which he had been accustomed during his father's lifetime. + </p> + <p> + His thoughts were interrupted in a manner somewhat ludicrous, by the crazy + girl who sat next to him coolly appropriating to herself his bowl of soup, + having already disposed of her own. + </p> + <p> + “Look,” said Aunt Lucy, quickly, calling Paul's attention, “you are losing + your dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said Paul, amused in spite of his sadness, “she is quite + welcome to it if she likes it; I can't eat it.” + </p> + <p> + So the dinner began and ended. It was very brief and simple, occupying + less than ten minutes, and comprising only one course—unless the + soup was considered the first course, and the bread the second. Paul left + the table as hungry as he came to it. Aunt Lucy's appetite had become + accustomed to the Mudge diet, and she wisely ate what was set before her, + knowing that there was no hope of anything better. + </p> + <p> + About an hour after dinner Ben Newcome came to the door of the Poor House + and inquired for Paul. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was in one of her crusty moods. + </p> + <p> + “You can't see him,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” said Ben, resolutely. + </p> + <p> + “Because he's busy.” + </p> + <p> + “You'd better let me see him,” said Ben, sturdily. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know what's going to happen if I don't,” said Mrs. + Mudge, with wrathful eyes, and arms akimbo. + </p> + <p> + “I shall go home and report to my father,” said Ben, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Who is your father?” asked Mrs. Mudge, for she did not recognize her + visitor. + </p> + <p> + “My father's name is Newcome—Squire Newcome, some call him.” + </p> + <p> + Now it so happened that Squire Newcome was Chairman of the Overseers of + the Poor, and in that capacity might remove Mr. Mudge from office if he + pleased. Accordingly Mrs. Mudge softened down at once, on learning that + Ben was his son. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said she, “I didn't know who it was. I thought it might be some idle + boy from the village who would only take Paul from his work, but if you + have a message from your father——” + </p> + <p> + This she said to ascertain whether he really had any message or not, but + Ben, who had in fact come without his father's knowledge, only bowed, and + said, in a patronizing manner, “I accept your apology, Mrs. Mudge. Will + you have the goodness to send Paul out?” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you step in?” asked Mrs. Mudge with unusual politeness. + </p> + <p> + “No, I believe not.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was accordingly sent out. + </p> + <p> + He was very glad to meet his schoolmate and playfellow, Ben, who by his + gayety, spiced though it was with roguery, had made himself a general + favorite in school. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Paul,” said Ben, “I'm sorry to find you in such a place.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't very pleasant,” said Paul, rather soberly. + </p> + <p> + “And that woman—Mrs. Mudge—she looks as if she might be a + regular spitfire, isn't she?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather so.” + </p> + <p> + “I only wish the old gentleman—meaning of course, the Squire—would + take you to live with me. I want a fellow to play with. But I say, Paul, + go and get your hat, and we'll go out for a walk.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what Mrs. Mudge will say,” said Paul, who had just come from + turning the handle of a churn. + </p> + <p> + “Just call Mrs. Mudge, and I'll manage it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge being summoned, made her appearance at the door. + </p> + <p> + “I presume, ma'am,” said Ben, confidently, “you will have no objection to + Paul's taking a walk with me while I deliver the message I am entrusted + with.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Mrs. Mudge, rather unwillingly, but not venturing to + refuse. + </p> + <p> + “It takes me to come it over the old lady,” said Ben, when they were out + of hearing. + </p> + <p> + “Now, we'll go a fishing.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <h3> + A CRISIS. + </h3> + <p> + Before sunrise the next morning Paul was awakened by a rude shake from Mr. + Mudge, with an intimation that he had better get up, as there was plenty + of work before him. + </p> + <p> + By the light of the lantern, for as yet it was too dark to dispense with + it, Paul dressed himself. Awakened from a sound sleep, he hardly had time + to collect his thoughts, and it was with a look of bewilderment that he + surveyed the scene about him. As Mrs. Mudge had said, they were pretty + full already, and accordingly a rude pallet had been spread for him in the + attic, of which, with the exception of nocturnal marauders, he was the + only occupant. Paul had not, to be sure, been used to very superior + accommodations, and if the bed had not been quite so hard, he would have + got along very well. As it was he was separated from slats only by a thin + straw bed which did not improve matters much. It was therefore with a + sense of weariness which slumber had not dissipated, that Paul arose at + the summons of Mr. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the kitchen, he found that gentleman waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know how to milk?” was his first salutation. + </p> + <p> + “I never learned,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Then you'll have to, in double-quick time,” was the reply, “for I don't + relish getting up so early, and you can take it off my hands.” + </p> + <p> + The two proceeded to the barn, where Paul received his first lesson in + this important branch of education. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge kept five cows. One might have thought he could have afforded a + moderate supply of milk to his boarders, but all, with the exception of a + single quart, was sold to the milkman who passed the door every morning. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast, which was on the same economical plan with the dinner of + the day previous, Paul was set to work planting potatoes, at which he was + kept steadily employed till the dinner-hour. + </p> + <p> + Poor Paul! his back ached dreadfully, for he had never before done any + harder work than trifling services for his father. But the inexorable Mr. + Mudge was in sight, and however much he wished, he did not dare to lay + aside his hoe even for a moment. + </p> + <p> + Twelve o'clock found him standing beside the dinner-table. He ate more + heartily than before, for his forenoon's labor made even poorhouse fare + palatable. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge observed the change, and remarked in a satisfied tone. “Well, + my fine gentleman, I see you are coming to your appetite. I thought you + wouldn't hold out long.” + </p> + <p> + Paul, who had worn off something of his diffidence, could not help feeling + indignant at this speech; unaccustomed to be addressed in this way, the + taunt jarred upon his feelings, but he only bit his lip and preserved + silence. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy, too, who had come to feel a strong interest in Paul, despite + her natural mildness, could not resist the temptation of saying with some + warmth, “what's the use of persecuting the child? He has sorrows enough of + his own without your adding to them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was not a little incensed at this remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to know, ma'am, who requested you to put in your oar!” she + said with arms akimbo. “Anybody wouldn't think from your lofty airs that + you lived in the poorhouse; I'll thank you to mind your own business in + the future, and not meddle with what don't concern you.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy was wise enough to abstain from provoking further the wrath of + her amiable landlady, and continued to eat her soup in silence. But Mrs. + Mudge neer forgot this interference, nor the cause of it, and henceforth + with the malignity of a narrow-minded and spiteful woman, did what she + could to make Paul uncomfortable. Her fertile ingenuity always found some + new taunt, or some new reproach, to assail him with. But Paul, though at + first he felt indignant, learned at last to treat them as they deserved, + with silent disdain. Assured of the sympathy of those around him, he did + not allow his appetite to be spoiled by any remark which Mrs. Mudge might + offer. + </p> + <p> + This, of course, only provoked her the more, and she strove to have his + daily tasks increased, in the amiable hope that his “proud spirit” might + be tamed thereby. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge, who was somewhat under petticoat government, readily acceded to + his wife's wishes, and henceforth Paul's strength was taxed to its utmost + limit. He was required to be up with the first gray tint of dawn and + attend to the cattle. From this time until night, except the brief time + devoted to his meals, he was incessantly occupied. Aunt Lucy's society, + his chief comfort, was thus taken from him; since, in order to rise early, + he was obliged to go to bed as soon as possible after day's work was + finished. + </p> + <p> + The effects of such incessant labor without a sufficient supply of + nourishing food, may easily be imagined. The dry bread and meagre soup + which constituted the chief articles of diet in Mrs. Mudge's economical + household, had but one recommendation,—they were effectual + preventives of gluttony. It was reported that on one occasion a beggar, + apparently famishing with hunger, not knowing the character of the house, + made application at the door for food. In an unusual fit of generosity, + Mrs. Mudge furnished him with a slice of bread and a bowl of soup, which, + however, proved so far from tempting that the beggar, hungry as he was, + left them almost untouched. + </p> + <p> + One day, as Paul was working in the field at a little distance from Mr. + Mudge, he became conscious of a peculiar feeling of giddiness which + compelled him to cling to the hoe for support,—otherwise he must + have fallen. + </p> + <p> + “No laziness there,” exclaimed Mr. Mudge, observing Paul's cessation from + labor, “We can't support you in idleness.” + </p> + <p> + But the boy paid no regard to this admonition, and Mr. Mudge, somewhat + surprised, advanced toward him to enforce the command. + </p> + <p> + Even he was startled at the unusual paleness of Paul's face, and inquired + in a less peremptory tone, “what's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “I feel sick,” gasped Paul. + </p> + <p> + Without another word, Mr. Mudge took Paul up in his arms and carried him + into the house. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, now?” asked his wife, meeting him at the door. + </p> + <p> + “The boy feels a little sick, but I guess he'll get over it by-and by. + Haven't you got a little soup that you can give him? I reckon he's faint, + and that'll brighten him up.” + </p> + <p> + Paul evidently did not think so, for he motioned away a bowl of the + delightful mixture, though it was proffered him by the fair hands of Mrs. + Mudge. The lady was somewhat surprised, and said, roughly, “I shouldn't + wonder if he was only trying to shirk.” + </p> + <p> + This was too much even for Mr. Mudge; “The boy's sick,” said he, “that's + plain enough; if he don't get better soon, I must send for the doctor, for + work drives, and I can't spare him.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no more danger of his being sick than mine,” said Mrs. Mudge, + emphatically; “however, if you're fool enough to go for a doctor, that's + none of my business. I've heard of feigning sickness before now, to get + rid of work. As to his being pale, I've been as pale as that myself + sometimes without your troubling yourself very much about me.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twon't be any expense to us,” alleged Mr. Mudge, in a tone of + justification, for he felt in some awe of his wife's temper, which was + none of the mildest when a little roused, “'Twon't be any expense to us; + the town has got to pay for it, and as long as it will get him ready for + work sooner, we might as well take advantage of it.” + </p> + <p> + This consideration somewhat reconciled Mrs. Mudge to the step proposed, + and as Paul, instead of getting better, grew rapidly worse, Mr. Mudge + thought it expedient to go immediately for the village physician. Luckily + Dr. Townsend was at home, and an hour afterwards found him standing beside + the sick boy. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know but you'll think it rather foolish, our sending for you, + doctor,” said Mrs. Mudge, “but Mudge would have it that the boy was sick + and so he went for you.” + </p> + <p> + “And he did quite right,” said Dr. Townsend, noticing the ghastly pallor + of Paul's face. “He is a very sick boy, and if I had not been called I + would not have answered for the consequences. How do you feel, my boy?” he + inquired of Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I feel very weak, and my head swims,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “How and when did this attack come on?” asked the doctor, turning to Mr. + Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “He was taken while hoeing in the field,” was the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Have you kept him at work much there lately?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, I've been drove by work, and he has worked there all day + latterly.” + </p> + <p> + “At what time has he gone to work in the morning?” + </p> + <p> + “He has got up to milk the cows about five o'clock. I used to do it, but + since he has learned, I have indulged myself a little.” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been well for him if he had enjoyed the same privilege. It + is my duty to speak plainly. The sickness of this boy lies at your door. + He has never been accustomed to hard labor, and yet you have obliged him + to rise earlier and work later than most men. No wonder he feels weak. Has + he a good appetite?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, rather middlin',” said Mrs. Mudge, “but it's mainly because he's + too dainty to eat what's set before him. Why, only the first day he was + here he turned up his nose at the bread and soup we had for dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this a specimen of the soup?” asked Dr. Townsend, taking from the + table the bowl which had been proffered to Paul and declined by him. + </p> + <p> + Without ceremony he raised to his lips a spoonful of the soup and tasted + it with a wry face. + </p> + <p> + “Do you often have this soup on the table?” he asked abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “We always have it once a day, and sometimes twice,” returned Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “And you call the boy dainty because he don't relish such stuff as this?” + said the doctor, with an indignation he did not attempt to conceal. “Why, + I wouldn't be hired to take the contents of that bowl. It is as bad as any + of my own medicines, and that's saying a good deal. How much nourishment + do you suppose such a mixture would afford? And yet with little else to + sustain him you have worked this boy like a beast of burden,—worse + even, for they at least have abundance of GOOD food.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Mudge both winced under this plain speaking, but they did not + dare to give expression to their anger, for they knew well that Dr. + Townsend was an influential man in town, and, by representing the affair + in the proper quarter, might render their hold upon their present post a + very precarious one. Mr. Mudge therefore contented himself with muttering + that he guessed he worked as hard as anybody, and he didn't complain of + his fare. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask you, Mr. Mudge,” said the doctor, fixing his penetrating eye + full upon him, “whether you confine yourself to the food upon which you + have kept this boy?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Mudge, in some confusion, moving uneasily in his seat, “I + can't say but now and then I eat something a little different.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you eat at the same table with the inmates of your house?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no,” said the embarrassed Mr. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me plainly,—how often do you partake of this soup?” + </p> + <p> + “I aint your patient,” said the man, sullenly, “Why should you want to + know what I eat?” + </p> + <p> + “I have an object in view. Are you afraid to answer?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know as there's anything to be afraid of. The fact is, I aint + partial to soup; it don't agree with me, and so I don't take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever consider that this might be the case with others as well as + yourself?” inquired the doctor with a glance expressive of his contempt + for Mr. Mudge's selfishness. Without waiting for a reply, Dr. Townsend + ordered Paul to be put to bed immediately, after which he would leave some + medicine for him to take. + </p> + <p> + Here was another embarrassment for the worthy couple. They hardly knew + where to put our hero. It would not do for them to carry him to his pallet + in the attic, for they felt sure that this would lead to some more plain + speaking on the part of Dr. Townsend. He was accordingly, though with some + reluctance, placed in a small bedroom upstairs, which, being more + comfortable than those appropriated to the paupers, had been reserved for + a son at work in a neighboring town, on his occasional visits home. + </p> + <p> + “Is there no one in the house who can sit in the chamber and attend to his + occasional wants?” asked Dr. Townsend. “He will need to take his medicine + at stated periods, and some one will be required to administer it.” + </p> + <p> + “There's Aunt Lucy Lee,” said Mrs. Mudge, “she's taken a fancy to the boy, + and I reckon she'll do as well as anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “No one better,” returned the doctor, who well knew Aunt Lucy's kindness + of disposition, and was satisfied that she would take all possible care of + his patient. + </p> + <p> + So it was arranged that Aunt Lucy should take her place at Paul's bedside + as his nurse. + </p> + <p> + Paul was sick for many days,—not dangerously so, but hard work and + scanty fare had weakened him to such a degree that exhausted nature + required time to recruit its wasted forces. But he was not unhappy or + restless. Hour after hour he would lie patiently, and listen to the + clicking of her knitting needles. Though not provided with luxurious food, + Dr. Townsend had spoken with so much plainness that Mrs. Mudge felt + compelled to modify her treatment, lest, through his influence, she with + her husband, might lose their situation. This forced forbearance, however, + was far from warming her heart towards its object. Mrs. Mudge was a hard, + practical woman, and her heart was so encrusted with worldliness and + self-interest that she might as well have been without one. + </p> + <p> + One day, as Paul lay quietly gazing at Aunt Lucy's benevolent face, and + mentally contrasting it with that of Mrs. Mudge, whose shrill voice could + be heard form below, he was seized with a sudden desire to learn something + of her past history. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here, Aunt Lucy?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + She looked up from her knitting, and sighed as she answered, “A long and + weary time to look back upon, Paul. I have been here ten years.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten years,” repeated Paul, thoughtfully, “and I am thirteen. So you have + been here nearly all my lifetime. Has Mr. Mudge been here all that time?” + </p> + <p> + “Only the last two years. Before that we had Mrs. Perkins.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she treat you any better than Mrs. Mudge?” + </p> + <p> + “Any better than Mrs. Mudge!” vociferated that lady, who had ascended the + stairs without being heard by Aunt Lucy of Paul, and had thus caught the + last sentence. “Any better than Mrs. Mudge!” she repeated, thoroughly + provoked. “So you've been talking about me, you trollop, have you? I'll + come up with you, you may depend upon that. That's to pay for my giving + you tea Sunday night, is it? Perhaps you'll get some more. It's pretty + well in paupers conspiring together because they aint treated like princes + and princesses. Perhaps you'd like to got boarded with Queen Victoria.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady sat very quiet during this tirade. She had been the subject + of similar invective before, and knew that it would do no good to oppose + Mrs. Mudge in her present excited state. + </p> + <p> + “I don't wonder you haven't anything to say,” said the infuriated dame. “I + should think you'd want to hide your face in shame, you trollop.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was not quite so patient as his attendant. Her kindness had produced + such an impression on him, that Mrs. Mudge, by her taunts, stirred up his + indignation. + </p> + <p> + “She's no more of a trollop than you are,” said he, with spirit. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge whirled round at this unexpected attack, and shook her fist + menacingly at Paul— + </p> + <p> + “So, you've put in your oar, you little jackanapes,” said she, “If you're + well enough to be impudent you're well enough to go to work. You aint a + goin' to lie here idle much longer, I can tell you. If you deceive Dr. + Townsend, and make him believe you're sick, you can't deceive me. No doubt + you feel mighty comfortable, lyin' here with nothing to do, while I'm a + slavin' myself to death down stairs, waitin' upon you; (this was a slight + exaggeration, as Aunt Lucy took the entire charge of Paul, including the + preparation of his food;) but you'd better make the most of it, for you + won't lie here much longer. You'll miss not bein' able to talk about me, + won't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge paused a moment as if expecting an answer to her highly + sarcastic question, but Paul felt that no advantage would be gained by + saying more.. He was not naturally a quick-tempered buy, and had only been + led to this little ebullition by the wanton attack by Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + This lady, after standing a moment as if defying the twain to a further + contest, went out, slamming the door violently after her. + </p> + <p> + “You did wrong to provoke her, Paul,” said Aunt Lucy, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “How could I help it?” asked Paul, earnestly. “If she had only abused ME, + I should not have cared so much, but when she spoke about you, who have + been so kind to me, I could not be silent.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Paul, for your kind feeling,” said the old lady, gently, + “but we must learn to bear and forbear. The best of us have our faults and + failings.” + </p> + <p> + “What are yours, Aunt Lucy?” + </p> + <p> + “O, a great many.” + </p> + <p> + “Such as what?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I am sometimes discontented with the station which God has + assigned me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you can be very much to blame for that. I should never + learn to be contented here if I lived to the age of Methuselah.” + </p> + <p> + Paul lay quite still for an hour or more. During that time he formed a + determination which will be announced in the next chapter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL'S DETERMINATION + </h3> + <p> + At the close of the last chapter it was stated that Paul had come to a + determination. + </p> + <p> + This was,—TO RUN AWAY. + </p> + <p> + That he had good reason for this we have already seen. + </p> + <p> + He was now improving rapidly, and only waited till he was well enough to + put his design into execution. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy,” said he one day, “I've got something to tell you.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady looked up inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “It's something I've been thinking of a long time,—at least most of + the time since I've been sick. It isn't pleasant for me to stay here, and + I've pretty much made up my mind that I sha'n't.” + </p> + <p> + “Where will you go?” asked the old lady, dropping her work in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know of any particular place, but I should be better off most + anywhere than here.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are so young, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “God will take care of me, Aunt Lucy,—mother used to tell me that. + Besides, here I have no hope of learning anything or improving my + condition. Then again, if I stay here, I can never do what father wished + me to do.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + Paul told the story of his father's indebtedness to Squire Conant, and the + cruel letter which the Squire had written. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to pay that debt,” he concluded firmly. “I won't let anybody say + that my father kept them out of their money. There is no chance here; + somewhere else I may find work and money.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a great undertaking for a boy like you, Paul,” said Aunt Lucy, + thoughtfully. “To whom is the money due?” + </p> + <p> + “Squire Conant of Cedarville.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy seemed surprised and agitated by the mention of this name. + </p> + <p> + “Paul,” said she, “Squire Conant is my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Your brother!” repeated he in great surprise. “Then why does he allow you + to live here? He is rich enough to take care of you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a long story,” said the old lady, sadly. “All that you will be + interested to know is that I married against the wishes of my family. My + husband died and I was left destitute. My brother has never noticed me + since.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a great shame,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “We won't judge him, Paul. Have you fixed upon any time to go?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall wait a few days till I get stronger. Can you tell me how far it + is to New York?” + </p> + <p> + “O, a great distance; a hundred miles at least. You can't think of going + so far as that?” + </p> + <p> + “I think it would be the best plan,” said Paul. “In a great city like New + York there must be a great many things to do which I can't do here. I + don't feel strong enough to work on a farm. Besides, I don't like it. O, + it must be a fine thing to live in a great city. Then too,” pursued Paul, + his face lighting up with the hopeful confidence of youth, “I may become + rich. If I do, Aunt Lucy, I will build a fine house, and you shall come + and live with me.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy had seen more of life than Paul, and was less sanguine. The + thought came to her that her life was already declining while his was but + just begun, and in the course of nature, even if his bright dreams should + be realized, she could hardly hope to live long enough to see it. But of + this she said nothing. She would not for the world have dimmed the + brightness of his anticipations by the expression of a single doubt. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you all success, Paul, and I thank you for wishing me to share in + your good fortune. God helps those who help themselves, and he will help + you if you only deserve it. I shall miss you very much when you are gone. + It will seem more lonely than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “If it were not for you, Aunt Lucy, I should not mind going at all, but I + shall be sorry to leave you behind.” + </p> + <p> + “God will care for both of us, my dear boy. I shall hope to hear from you + now and then, and if I learn that you are prosperous and happy, I shall be + better contented with my own lot. But have you thought of all the labor + and weariness that you will have to encounter? It is best to consider well + all this, before entering upon such an undertaking.” + </p> + <p> + “I have thought of all that, and if there were any prospect of my being + happy here, I might stay for the present. But you know how Mrs. Mudge has + treated me, and how she feels towards me now.” + </p> + <p> + “I acknowledge, Paul, that it has proved a hard apprenticeship, and + perhaps it might be made yet harder if you should stay longer. You must + let me know when you are going, I shall want to bid you good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “No fear that I shall forget that, Aunt Lucy. Next to my mother you have + been most kind to me, and I love you for it.” + </p> + <p> + Lightly pressing her lips to Paul's forehead Aunt Lucy left the room to + conceal the emotion called forth by his approaching departure. Of all the + inmates of the establishment she had felt most closely drawn to the orphan + boy, whose loneliness and bereavement had appealed to her woman's heart. + This feeling had been strengthened by the care she had been called to + bestow upon him in his illness, for it is natural to love those whom we + have benefited. But Aunt Lucy was the most unselfish of living creatures, + and the idea of dissuading Paul from a course which he felt was right + never occurred to her. She determined that she would do what she could to + further his plans, now that he had decided to go. Accordingly she + commenced knitting him a pair of stockings, knowing that this would prove + a useful present. This came near being the means of discovering Paul's + plan to Mrs. Mudge The latter, who notwithstanding her numerous duties, + managed to see everything that was going on, had her attention directed to + Aunt Lucy's work. + </p> + <p> + “Have you finished the stockings that I set you to knitting for Mr. + Mudge?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Aunt Lucy, in some confusion. + </p> + <p> + “Then whose are those, I should like to know? Somebody of more importance + than my husband, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “They are for Paul,” returned the old lady, in some uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + “Paul!” repeated Mrs. Mudge, in her haste putting a double quantity of + salaeratus into the bread she was mixing; “Paul's are they? And who asked + you to knit him a pair, I should like to be informed?” + </p> + <p> + “No one.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what are you doing it for?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought he might want them.” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty considerate, I declare. And I shouldn't be at all surprised if you + were knitting them with the yarn I gave you for Mr. Mudge's stockings.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken,” said Aunt Lucy, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're putting on your airs, are you? I'll tell you what, Madam, + you'd better put those stockings away in double-quick time, and finish my + husband's, or I'll throw them into the fire, and Paul Prescott may wait + till he goes barefoot before he gets them.” + </p> + <p> + There was no alternative. Aunt Lucy was obliged to obey, at least while + her persecutor was in the room. When alone for any length of time she took + out Paul's stockings from under her apron, and worked on them till the + approaching steps of Mrs. Mudge warned her to desist. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + Three days passed. The shadows of twilight were already upon the earth. + The paupers were collected in the common room appropriated to their use. + Aunt Lucy had suspended her work in consequence of the darkness, for in + this economical household a lamp was considered a useless piece of + extravagance. Paul crept quietly to her side, and whispered in tones + audible to her alone, “I AM GOING TO-MORROW.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow! so soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, “I am as ready now as I shall ever be. I wanted to tell + you, because I thought maybe you might like to know that this is the last + evening we shall spend together at present.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you go in the morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Aunt Lucy, early in the morning. Mr. Mudge usually calls me at five; + I must be gone an hour before that time. I suppose I must bid you good-by + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-night, Paul; I shall be up in the morning to see you go.” + </p> + <p> + “But if Mrs. Mudge finds it out she will abuse you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am used to that, Paul,” said Aunt Lucy, with a sorrowful smile. “I have + borne it many times, and I can again. But I can't lie quiet and let you go + without one word of parting. You are quite determined to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite, Aunt Lucy. I never could stay here. There is no pleasure in the + present, and no hope for the future. I want to see something of life,” and + Paul's boyish figure dilated with enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “God grant that you do not see too much!” said Aunt Lucy, half to herself. + </p> + <p> + “Is the world then, so very sad a place?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Both joy and sorrow are mingled in the cup of human life,” said Aunt + Lucy, solemnly: + </p> + <p> + “Which shall preponderate it is partly in our power to determine. He who + follows the path of duty steadfastly, cannot be wholly miserable, whatever + misfortunes may come upon him. He will be sustained by the conviction that + his own errors have not brought them upon him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try to do right,” said Paul, placing his hand in that of his + companion, “and if ever I am tempted to do wrong, I will think of you and + of my mother, and that thought shall restrain me.” + </p> + <p> + “It's time to go bed, folks,” proclaimed Mrs Mudge, appearing at the door. + “I can't have you sitting up all night, as I've no doubt you'd like to + do.” + </p> + <p> + It was only eight o'clock, but no one thought of interposing an objection. + The word of Mrs. Mudge was law in her household, as even her husband was + sometimes made aware. + </p> + <p> + All quietly rose from their seats and repaired to bed. It was an affecting + sight to watch the tottering gait of those on whose heads the snows of + many winters had drifted heavily, as they meekly obeyed the behest of one + whose coarse nature forbade her sympathizing with them in their clouded + age, and many infirmities. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said she, impatient of their slow movements, “move a little + quicker, if it's perfectly convenient. Anybody'd think you'd been hard at + work all day, as I have. You're about the laziest set I ever had anything + to do with. I've got to be up early in the morning, and can't stay here + dawdling.” + </p> + <p> + “She's got a sweet temper,” said Paul, in a whisper, to Aunt Lucy. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said the old lady. “She may hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that you're whispering about?” said Mrs. Mudge, suspiciously. + “Something you're ashamed to have heard, most likely.” + </p> + <p> + Paul thought it best to remain silent. + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow morning at four!” he whispered to Aunt Lucy, as he pressed her + hand in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL BEGINS HIS JOURNEY. + </h3> + <p> + Paul ascended the stairs to his hard pallet for the last time. For the + last time! There is sadness in the thought, even when the future which + lies before us glows with brighter colors than the past has ever worn. But + to Paul, whose future was veiled in uncertainty, and who was about to part + with the only friend who felt an interest in his welfare, this thought + brought increased sorrow. + </p> + <p> + He stood before the dirt-begrimed window through which alone the + struggling sunbeams found an inlet into the gloomy little attic, and + looked wistfully out upon the barren fields that surrounded the poorhouse. + Where would he be on the morrow at that time? He did not know. He knew + little or nothing of the great world without, yet his resolution did not + for an instant falter. If it had, the thought of Mrs. Mudge would have + been enough to remove all his hesitation. + </p> + <p> + He threw himself on his hard bed, and a few minutes brought him that + dreamless sleep which comes so easily to the young. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Aunt Lucy, whose thoughts were also occupied with Paul's + approaching departure, had taken from the pocket of her OTHER dress—for + she had but two—something wrapped in a piece of brown paper. One by + one she removed the many folds in which it was enveloped, and came at + length to the contents. + </p> + <p> + It was a coin. + </p> + <p> + “Paul will need some money, poor boy,” said she, softly to herself, “I + will give him this. It will never do me any good, and it may be of some + service to him.” + </p> + <p> + So saying she looked carefully at the coin in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + But what made her start, and utter a half exclamation? + </p> + <p> + Instead of the gold eagle, the accumulation of many years, which she had + been saving for some extraordinary occasion like the presents she held in + her hand—a copper cent. + </p> + <p> + “I have been robbed,” she exclaimed indignantly in the suddenness of her + surprise. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter now?” inquired Mrs Mudge, appearing at the door, “Why + are you not in bed, Aunt Lucy Lee? How dare you disobey my orders?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been robbed,” exclaimed the old lady in unwonted excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Of what, pray?” asked Mrs. Mudge, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + “I had a gold eagle wrapped up in that paper,” returned Aunt Lucy, + pointing to the fragments on the floor, “and now, to-night, when I come to + open it, I find but this cent.” + </p> + <p> + “A likely story,” retorted Mrs. Mudge, “very likely, indeed, that a common + pauper should have a gold eagle. If you found a cent in the paper, most + likely that's what you put there. You're growing old and forgetful, so + don't get foolish and flighty. You'd better go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “But I did have the gold, and it's been stolen,” persisted Aunt Lucy, + whose disappointment was the greater because she intended the money for + Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Again!” exclaimed Mrs. Mudge. “Will you never have done with this folly? + Even if you did have the gold, which I don't for an instant believe, you + couldn't keep it. A pauper has no right to hold property.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why did the one who stole the little I had leave me this?” said the + old lady, scornfully, holding up the cent which had been substituted for + the gold. + </p> + <p> + “How should I know?” exclaimed Mrs. Mudge, wrathfully. “You talk as if you + thought I had taken your trumpery money.” + </p> + <p> + “So you did!” chimed in an unexpected voice, which made Mrs. Mudge start + nervously. + </p> + <p> + It was the young woman already mentioned, who was bereft of reason, but + who at times, as often happens in such cases, seemed gifted with + preternatural acuteness. + </p> + <p> + “So you did. I saw you, I did; I saw you creep up when you thought nobody + was looking, and search her pocket. You opened that paper and took out the + bright yellow piece, and put in another. You didn't think I was looking at + you, ha! ha! How I laughed as I stood behind the door and saw you tremble + for fear some one would catch you thieving. You didn't think of me, dear, + did you?” + </p> + <p> + And the wild creature burst into an unmeaning laugh. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge stood for a moment mute, overwhelmed by this sudden revelation. + But for the darkness, Aunt Lucy could have seen the sudden flush which + overspread her face with the crimson hue of detected guilt. But this was + only for a moment. It was quickly succeeded by a feeling of intense anger + towards the unhappy creature who had been the means of exposing her. + </p> + <p> + “I'll teach you to slander your betters, you crazy fool,” she exclaimed, + in a voice almost inarticulate with passion, as she seized her rudely by + the arm, and dragged her violently from the room. + </p> + <p> + She returned immediately. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said she, abruptly, confronting Aunt Lucy, “that you are fool + enough to believe her ravings?” + </p> + <p> + “I bring no accusation,” said the old lady, calmly, “If your conscience + acquits you, it is not for me to accuse you.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you think?” persisted Mrs. Mudge, whose consciousness of + guilt did not leave her quite at ease. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot read the heart,” said Aunt Lucy, composedly. “I can only say, + that, pauper as I am, I would not exchange places with the one who has + done this deed.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean me?” demanded Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “You can tell best.” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you what, Aunt Lucy Lee,” said Mrs. Mudge, her eyes blazing with + anger, “If you dare insinuate to any living soul that I stole your paltry + money, which I don't believe you ever had, I will be bitterly revenged + upon you.” + </p> + <p> + She flaunted out of the room, and Aunt Lucy, the first bitterness of her + disappointment over, retired to bed, and slept more tranquilly than the + unscrupulous woman who had robbed her. + </p> + <p> + At a quarter before four Paul started from his humble couch, and hastily + dressed himself, took up a little bundle containing all his scanty stock + of clothing, and noiselessly descended the two flights of stairs which + separated him from the lower story. Here he paused a moment for Aunt Lucy + to appear. Her sharp ears had distinguished his stealthy steps as he + passed her door, and she came down to bid him good-by. She had in her + hands a pair of stockings which she slipped into his bundle. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had something else to give you, Paul,” she said, “but you know + that I am not very rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Aunt Lucy,” said Paul, kissing her, “you are my only friend on + earth. You have been very kind to me, and I never will forget you, NEVER! + By-and-by, when I am rich, I will build a fine house, and you will come + and live with me, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + Paul's bright anticipations, improbable as they were, had the effect of + turning his companion's thoughts into a more cheerful channel. + </p> + <p> + She bent down and kissed him, whispering softly, “Yes, I will, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it's a bargain,” said he, joyously, “Mind you don't forget it. I + shall come for you one of these days when you least expect it.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any money?” inquired Aunt Lucy. + </p> + <p> + Paul shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said she, drawing from her finger a gold ring which had held its + place for many long years, “here is something which will bring you a + little money if you are ever in distress.” + </p> + <p> + Paul hung back. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather not take it, indeed I would,” he said, earnestly, “I would + rather go hungry for two or three days than sell your ring. Besides, I + shall not need it; God will provide for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you need not sell it,” urged Aunt Lucy, “unless it is absolutely + necessary. You can take it and keep it in remembrance of me. Keep it till + you see me again, Paul. It will be a pledge to me that you will come back + again some day.” + </p> + <p> + “On that condition I will take it,” said Paul, “and some day I will bring + it back.” + </p> + <p> + A slight noise above, as of some one stirring in sleep, excited the + apprehensions of the two, and warned them that it was imprudent for them + to remain longer in conversation. + </p> + <p> + After a hurried good-by, Aunt Lucy quietly went upstairs again, and Paul, + shouldering his bundle, walked rapidly away. + </p> + <p> + The birds, awakening from their night's repose, were beginning to carol + forth their rich songs of thanksgiving for the blessing of a new day. From + the flowers beneath his feet and the blossom-laden branches above his + head, a delicious perfume floated out upon the morning air, and filled the + heart of the young wanderer with a sense of the joyousness of existence, + and inspired him with a hopeful confidence in the future. + </p> + <p> + For the first time he felt that he belonged to himself. At the age of + thirteen he had taken his fortune in his own hand, and was about to mold + it as best he might. + </p> + <p> + There were care, and toil, and privations before him, no doubt, but in + that bright morning hour he could harbor only cheerful and trusting + thoughts. Hopefully he looked forward to the time when he could fulfil his + father's dying injunction, and lift from his name the burden of a debt + unpaid. Then his mind reverting to another thought, he could not help + smiling at the surprise and anger of Mr. Mudge, when he should find that + his assistant had taken French leave. He thought he should like to be + concealed somewhere where he could witness the commotion excited by his + own departure. But as he could not be in two places at the same time, he + must lose that satisfaction. He had cut loose from the Mudge household, as + he trusted, forever. He felt that a new and brighter life was opening + before him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. + </h2> + <h3> + A FRIEND IN NEED. + </h3> + <p> + Our hero did not stop till he had put a good five miles between himself + and the poorhouse. He knew that it would not be long before Mr. Mudge + would discover his absence, and the thought of being carried back was + doubly distasteful to him now that he had, even for a short time, felt the + joy of being his own master. His hurried walk, taken in the fresh morning + air, gave him quite a sharp appetite. Luckily he had the means of + gratifying it. The night before he had secreted half his supper, knowing + that he should need it more the next morning. He thought he might now + venture to sit down and eat it. + </p> + <p> + At a little distance from the road was a spring, doubtless used for + cattle, since it was situated at the lower end of a pasture. Close beside + and bending over it was a broad, branching oak, which promised a cool and + comfortable shelter. + </p> + <p> + “That's just the place for me,” thought Paul, who felt thirsty as well as + hungry, “I think I will take breakfast here and rest awhile before I go + any farther.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he leaped lightly over the rail fence, and making his way to the + place indicated, sat down in the shadow of the tree. Scooping up some + water in the hollow of his hand, he drank a deep and refreshing draught. + He next proceeded to pull out of his pocket a small package, which proved + to contain two small pieces of bread. His long morning walk had given him + such an appetite that he was not long in despatching all he had. It is + said by some learned physicians, who no doubt understand the matter, that + we should always rise from the table with an appetite. Probably Paul had + never heard of this rule. Nevertheless, he seemed in a fair way of putting + it into practice, for the best of reasons, because he could not help it. + </p> + <p> + His breakfast, though not the most inviting, being simply unbuttered bread + and rather dry at that, seemed more delicious than ever before, but + unfortunately there was not enough of it. However, as there seemed likely + to be no more forthcoming, he concluded in default of breakfast to lie + down under the tree for a few minutes before resuming his walk. Though he + could not help wondering vaguely where his dinner was to come from, as + that time was several hours distant, he wisely decided not to anticipate + trouble till it came. + </p> + <p> + Lying down under the tree, Paul began to consider what Mr. Mudge would say + when he discovered that he had run away. + </p> + <p> + “He'll have to milk the cows himself,” thought Paul. “He won't fancy that + much. Won't Mrs. Mudge scold, thought? I'm glad I shan't be within + hearing.” + </p> + <p> + “Holloa!” + </p> + <p> + It was a boy's voice that Paul heard. + </p> + <p> + Looking up he saw a sedate company of cows entering the pasture single + file through an aperture made by letting down the bars. Behind them walked + a boy of about his own size, flourishing a stout hickory stick. The cows + went directly to the spring from which Paul had already drunk. The young + driver looked at our hero with some curiosity, wondering, doubtless, what + brought him there so early in the morning. After a little hesitation he + said, remarking Paul's bundle, “Where are you traveling?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know exactly,” said Paul, who was not quite sure whether it would + be politic to avow his destination. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know?” returned the other, evidently surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly; I may go to New York.” + </p> + <p> + “New York! That's a great ways off. Do you know the way there?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I can find it.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going all alone?” asked his new acquaintance, who evidently + thought Paul had undertaken a very formidable journey. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to walk all the way?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, unless somebody offers me a ride now and then.” + </p> + <p> + “But why don't you ride in the stage, or in the cars? You would get there + a good deal quicker.” + </p> + <p> + “One reason,” said Paul, hesitating a little, “is because I have no money + to pay for riding.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how do you expect to live? Have you had any breakfast, this + morning?” + </p> + <p> + “I brought some with me, and just got through eating it when you came + along.” + </p> + <p> + “And where do you expect to get any dinner?” pursued his questioner, who + was evidently not a little puzzled by the answers he received. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” returned Paul. + </p> + <p> + His companion looked not a little confounded at this view of the matter, + but presently a bright thought struck him. + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder,” he said, shrewdly, “if you were running away.” + </p> + <p> + Paul hesitated a moment. He knew that his case must look a little + suspicious, thus unexplained, and after a brief pause for reflection + determined to take the questioner into his confidence. He did this the + more readily because his new acquaintance looked very pleasant. + </p> + <p> + “You've guessed right,” he said; “if you'll promise not to tell anybody, + I'll tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + This was readily promised, and the boy who gave his name as John Burgess, + sat down beside Paul, while he, with the frankness of boyhood, gave a + circumstantial account of his father's death, and the ill-treatment he had + met with subsequently. + </p> + <p> + “Do you come from Wrenville?” asked John, interested. “Why, I've got + relations there. Perhaps you know my cousin, Ben Newcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Ben Newcome your cousin? O yes, I know him very well; he's a + first-rate fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “He isn't much like his father.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. If he was”— + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't like him so well. Uncle talks a little too much out of the + dictionary, and walks so straight that he bends backward. But I say, Paul, + old Mudge deserves to be choked, and Mrs. Mudge should be obliged to + swallow a gallon of her own soup. I don't know but that would be worse + than choking. I wouldn't have stayed so long if I had been in your place.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't,” said Paul, “if it hadn't been for Aunt Lucy.” + </p> + <p> + “Was she an aunt of yours?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but we used to call her so, She's the best friend I've got, and I + don't know but the only one,” said Paul, a little sadly. + </p> + <p> + “No, she isn't,” said John, quickly; “I'll be your friend, Paul. Sometime, + perhaps, I shall go to New York, myself, and then I will come and see you. + Where do you expect to be?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know anything about the city,” said Paul, “but if you come, I + shall be sure to see you somewhere. I wish you were going now.” + </p> + <p> + Neither Paul nor his companion had much idea of the extent of the great + metropolis, or they would not have taken it so much as a matter of course + that, being in the same place, they should meet each other. + </p> + <p> + Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of a bell from a + farmhouse within sight. + </p> + <p> + “That's our breakfast-bell,” said John rising from the grass. “It is meant + for me. I suppose they wonder what keeps me so long. Won't you come and + take breakfast with me, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess not,” said Paul, who would have been glad to do so had he + followed the promptings of his appetite. “I'm afraid your folks would ask + me questions, and then it would be found out that I am running away.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't think of that,” returned John, after a pause. “You haven't got + any dinner with you?” he said a moment after. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you what I'll do. Come with me as far as the fence, and + lie down there till I've finished breakfast. Then I'll bring something out + for you, and maybe I'll walk along a little way with you.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind,” said Paul, gratefully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense,” said John, “that's nothing. Besides, you know we are going + to be friends.” + </p> + <p> + “John! breakfast's ready.” + </p> + <p> + “There's Nelson calling me,” said John, hurriedly. “I must leave you; + there's the fence; lie down there, and I'll be back in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + “John, I say, why don't you come?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm coming. You mustn't think everybody's got such a thundering great + appetite as you, Nelson.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you've got enough to keep you from pining away,” said Nelson, + good-naturedly, “you're twice as fat as I am.” + </p> + <p> + “That's because I work harder,” said John, rather illogically. + </p> + <p> + The brothers went in to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + But a few minutes elapsed before John reappeared, bearing under his arm a + parcel wrapped up in an old newspaper. He came up panting with the haste + he had made. + </p> + <p> + “It didn't take you long to eat breakfast,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “No, I hurried through it; I thought you would get tired of waiting. And + now I'll walk along with you a little ways. But wait here's something for + you.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he unrolled the newspaper and displayed a loaf of bread, fresh + and warm, which looked particularly inviting to Paul, whose scanty + breakfast had by no means satisfied his appetite. Besides this, there was + a loaf of molasses ginger-bread, with which all who were born in the + country, or know anything of New England housekeeping, are familiar. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said John, “I guess that'll be enough for your dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you get it without having any questions asked?” inquired our + hero. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said John, “I asked mother for them, and when she asked what I + wanted of them, I told her that I'd answer that question to-morrow. You + see I wanted to give you a chance to get off out of the way, though mother + wouldn't tell, even if she knew.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Paul, with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + He could not help looking wistfully at the bread, which looked very + inviting to one accustomed to poorhouse fare. + </p> + <p> + “If you wouldn't mind,” he said hesitating, “I would like to eat a little + of the bread now.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind, of course not,” said John, breaking off a liberal slice. “Why + didn't I think of that before? Walking must have given you a famous + appetite.” + </p> + <p> + John looked on with evident approbation, while Paul ate with great + apparent appetite. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he with a sigh of gratification, as he swallowed the last + morsel, “I haven't tasted anything so good for a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it as good as Mrs. Mudge's soup?” asked John, mischievously. + </p> + <p> + “Almost,” returned Paul, smiling. + </p> + <p> + We must now leave the boys to pursue their way, and return to the dwelling + from which our hero had so unceremoniously taken his departure, and from + which danger now threatened him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. + </h2> + <h3> + A CLOUD IN THE MUDGE HORIZON. + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Mudge was accustomed to call Paul at five o'clock, to milk the cows + and perform other chores. He himself did not rise till an hour later. + During Paul's sickness, he was obliged to take his place,—a thing he + did not relish overmuch. Now that our hero had recovered, he gladly + prepared to indulge himself in an extra nap. + </p> + <p> + “Paul!” called Mr. Mudge from the bottom of the staircase leading up into + the attic, “it's five o'clock; time you were downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge waited for an answer, but none came. + </p> + <p> + “Paul!” repeated Mr. Mudge in a louder tone, “it's time to get up; tumble + out there.” + </p> + <p> + Again there was no answer. + </p> + <p> + At first, Mr. Mudge thought it might be in consequence of Paul's sleeping + so soundly, but on listening attentively, he could not distinguish the + deep and regular breathing which usually accompanies such slumber. + </p> + <p> + “He must be sullen,” he concluded, with a feeling of irritation. “If he + is, I'll teach him——” + </p> + <p> + Without taking time to finish the sentence, he bounded up the rickety + staircase, and turned towards the bed with the intention of giving our + hero a smart shaking. + </p> + <p> + He looked with astonishment at the empty bed. “Is it possible,” he + thought, “that Paul has already got up? He isn't apt to do so before he is + called.” + </p> + <p> + At this juncture, Mrs. Mudge, surprised at her husband's prolonged + absence, called from below, “Mr. Mudge!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, wife?” + </p> + <p> + “What in the name of wonder keeps you up there so long?” + </p> + <p> + “Just come up and see.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge did come up. Her husband pointed to the empty bed. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “What about it?” she inquired, not quite comprehending. + </p> + <p> + “About that boy, Paul. When I called him I got no answer, so I came up, + and behold he is among the missing.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't think he's run away, do you?” asked Mrs. Mudge startled. + </p> + <p> + “That is more than I know.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll see if his clothes are here,” said his wife, now fully aroused. + </p> + <p> + Her search was unavailing. Paul's clothes had disappeared as mysteriously + as their owner. + </p> + <p> + “It's a clear case,” said Mr. Mudge, shaking his head; “he's gone. I + wouldn't have lost him for considerable. He was only a boy, but I managed + to get as much work out of him as a man. The question is now, what shall + we do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “He must be pursued,” said Mrs. Mudge, with vehemence, “I'll have him back + if it costs me twenty dollars. I'll tell you what, husband,” she + exclaimed, with a sudden light breaking in upon her, “if there's anybody + in this house knows where he's gone, it is Aunt Lucy Lee. Only last week I + caught her knitting him a pair of stockings. I might have known what it + meant if I hadn't been a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! So you might, if you hadn't been a fool!” echoed a mocking voice. + </p> + <p> + Turning with sudden anger, Mrs. Mudge beheld the face of the crazy girl + peering up at her from below. + </p> + <p> + This turned her thoughts into a different channel. + </p> + <p> + “I'll teach you what I am,” she exclaimed, wrathfully descending the + stairs more rapidly than she had mounted them, “and if you know anything + about the little scamp, I'll have it out of you.” + </p> + <p> + The girl narrowly succeeded in eluding the grasp of her pursuer. But, + alas! for Mrs. Mudge. In her impetuosity she lost her footing, and fell + backward into a pail of water which had been brought up the night before + and set in the entry for purposes of ablution. More wrathful than ever, + Mrs. Mudge bounced into her room and sat down in her dripping garments in + a very uncomfortable frame of mind. As for Paul, she felt a personal + dislike for him, and was not sorry on some accounts to have him out of the + house. The knowledge, however, that he had in a manner defied her + authority by running away, filled her with an earnest desire to get him + back, if only to prove that it was not to be defied with impunity. + </p> + <p> + Hoping to elicit some information from Aunt Lucy, who, she felt sure, was + in Paul's confidence, she paid her a visit. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here's a pretty goings on,” she commenced, abruptly. Finding that + Aunt Lucy manifested no curiosity on the subject, she continued, in a + significant tone, “Of course, YOU don't know anything about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I can tell better when I know what you refer to,” said the old lady + calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are very ignorant all at once. I suppose you didn't know Paul + Prescott had run away?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not surprised,” said the old lady, in the same quiet manner. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge had expected a show of astonishment, and this calmness + disconcerted her. + </p> + <p> + “You are not surprised!” she retorted. “I presume not, since you knew all + about it beforehand. That's why you were knitting him some stockings. Deny + it, if you dare.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no disposition to deny it.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't!” exclaimed the questioner, almost struck dumb with this + audacity. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Aunt Lucy. “Why should I? There was no particular inducement + for him to stay here. Wherever he goes, I hope he will meet with good + friends and good treatment.” + </p> + <p> + “As much as to say he didn't find them here. Is that what you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no charges to bring.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have,” said Mrs. Mudge, her eyes lighting with malicious + satisfaction. “Last night you missed a ten-dollar gold piece, which you + saw was stolen from you. This morning it appears that Paul Prescott has + run away. I charge him with the theft.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not, can not believe this,” said the old lady, uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do,” returned Mrs. Mudge, triumphantly, perceiving her + advantage. “I have no doubt of it, and when we get the boy back, he shall + be made to confess it.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy looked troubled, much to the gratification of Mrs. Mudge. It was + but for a short time, however. Rising from her seat, she stood confronting + Mrs. Mudge, and said quietly, but firmly, “I have no doubt, Mrs. Mudge, + you are capable of doing what you say. I would advise you, however, to + pause. You know, as well as I do, that Paul is incapable of this theft. + Even if he were wicked enough to form the idea, he would have no need, + since it was my intention to GIVE him this money. Who did actually steal + the gold, you PERHAPS know better than I. Should it be necessary, I shall + not hesitate to say so. I advise you not to render it necessary.” + </p> + <p> + The threat which lay in these words was understood. It came with the force + of a sudden blow to Mrs. Mudge, who had supposed it would be no difficult + task to frighten and silence Aunt Lucy. The latter had always been so + yielding in all matters relating to herself, that this intrepid + championship of Paul's interests was unlooked for. The tables were + completely turned. Pale with rage, and a mortified sense of having been + foiled with her own weapons, Mrs. Mudge left the room. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile her husband milked the cows, and was now occupied in performing + certain other duties that could not be postponed, being resolved, + immediately after breakfast was over, to harness up and pursue the + runaway. + </p> + <p> + “Well, did you get anything out of the old lady?” he inquired, as he came + from the barn with the full milk-pails. + </p> + <p> + “She said she knew beforehand that he was going.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh!” said Mr. Mudge, pricking up his ears, “did she say where?” + </p> + <p> + “No, and she won't. She knit him a pair of stockings to help him off, and + doesn't pretend to deny it. She's taken a wonderful fancy to the young + scamp, and has been as obstinate as could be ever since he has been here.” + </p> + <p> + “If I get him back,” said Mr. Mudge, “he shall have a good flogging, if I + am able to give him one, and she shall be present to see it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” said Mrs. Mudge, approvingly, “when are you going to set + out after him?” + </p> + <p> + “Right after breakfast. So be spry, and get it ready as soon as you can.” + </p> + <p> + Under the stimulus of this inspiring motive, Mrs. Mudge bustled about with + new energy, and before many minutes the meal was in readiness. It did not + take long to dispatch it. Immediately afterwards, Mr. Mudge harnessed up, + as he had determined, and started off in pursuit of our hero. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the two boys had walked leisurely along, conversing on + various subjects. + </p> + <p> + “When you get to the city, Paul,” said John, “I shall want to hear from + you. Will you write to me?” + </p> + <p> + Paul promised readily. + </p> + <p> + “You can direct to John Burges, Burrville. The postmaster knows me, and I + shall be sure to get it.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you were going with me,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes when I think that I am all alone it discourages me. It would be + so much pleasanter to have some one with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall come sometime,” said John, “when I am a little older. I heard + father say something the other day about my going into a store in the + city. So we may meet again.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope we shall.” + </p> + <p> + They were just turning a bend of the road, when Paul chanced to look + backward. About a quarter of a mile back he descried a horse and wagon + wearing a familiar look. Fixing his eyes anxiously upon them, he was soon + made aware that his suspicions were only too well founded. It was Mr. + Mudge, doubtless in quest of him. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do?” he asked, hurriedly of his companion. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + This was quickly explained. + </p> + <p> + John was quickwitted, and he instantly decided upon the course proper to + be pursued. On either side of the road was a growth of underbrush so thick + as to be almost impenetrable. + </p> + <p> + “Creep in behind there, and be quick about it,” directed John, “there is + no time to lose.” + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he, after Paul had followed his advice, “if he can see you + now he must have sharp eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come in too?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I,” said John, “I am anxious to see this Mr. Mudge, since you have + told me so much about him. I hope he will ask me some questions.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you tell him?” + </p> + <p> + “Trust me for that. Don't say any more. He's close by.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. + </h2> + <h3> + MR. MUDGE MEETS HIS MATCH. + </h3> + <p> + John lounged along, appearing to be very busily engaged in making a + whistle from a slip of willow which he had a short time before cut from + the tree. He purposely kept in the middle of the road, apparently quite + unaware of the approach of the vehicle, until he was aroused by the sound + of a voice behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Be a little more careful, if you don't want to get run over.” + </p> + <p> + John assumed a look of surprise, and with comic terror ran to the side of + the road. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge checked his horse, and came to a sudden halt. + </p> + <p> + “I say, youngster, haven't you seen a boy of about your own size walking + along, with a bundle in his hand?” + </p> + <p> + “Tied up in a red cotton handkerchief?” inquired John. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I believe so,” said Mr. Mudge, eagerly, “where did you——” + </p> + <p> + “With a blue cloth cap?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, where——” + </p> + <p> + “Gray jacket and pants?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Where?” + </p> + <p> + “With a patch on one knee?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the very one. When did you see him?” said Mr. Mudge, getting ready + to start his horse. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it isn't the one you mean,” continued John, who took a + mischievous delight in playing with the evident impatience of Mr. Mudge; + “the boy that I saw looked thin, as if he hadn't had enough to eat.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge winced slightly, and looked at John with some suspicion. But + John put on so innocent and artless a look that Mr. Mudge at once + dismissed the idea that there was any covert meaning in what he said. + Meanwhile Paul, from his hiding-place in the bushes, had listened with + anxiety to the foregoing colloquy. When John described his appearance so + minutely, he was seized with a sudden apprehension that the boy meant to + betray him. But he dismissed it instantly. In his own singleness of heart + he could not believe such duplicity possible. Still, it was not without + anxiety that he waited to hear what would be said next. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Mudge, slowly, “I don't know but he is a little PEAKED. + He's been sick lately, and that's took off his flesh.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he your son?” asked John, in a sympathizing tone; “you must feel + quite troubled about him.” + </p> + <p> + He looked askance at Mr. Mudge, enjoying that gentleman's growing + irritation. + </p> + <p> + “My son? No. Where——” + </p> + <p> + “Nephews perhaps?” suggested the imperturbable John, leisurely continuing + the manufacture of a whistle. + </p> + <p> + “No, I tell you, nothing of the kind. But I can't sit waiting here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I hope you'll excuse me,” said John, apologetically. “I hope you + won't stop on my account. I didn't know you were in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you know it now,” said Mr. Mudge, crossly. “When and where did you + see the boy you have described? I am in pursuit of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he run away?” inquired John in assumed surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to answer my question or not?” demanded Mr. Mudge, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have asked so many questions, only I + thought he was a nice-looking boy, and I felt interested in him.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a young scamp,” said Mr. Mudge, impetuously, “and it's my belief + that you're another. Now answer my question. When and where did you see + this boy?” + </p> + <p> + This time Mr. Mudge's menacing look warned John that he had gone far + enough. Accordingly he answered promptly, “He passed by our farm this + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “How far back is that?” + </p> + <p> + “About three miles.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he stop there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he stopped a while to rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you seen him since?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I saw him about half a mile back.” + </p> + <p> + “On this road?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he turned up the road that branches off there.” + </p> + <p> + “Just what I wanted to find out,” said Mr. Mudge, in a tone of + satisfaction, “I'm sure to catch him.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he turned about and put his horse to its utmost speed, + determined to make up for lost time. When he was fairly out of sight, Paul + came forth from his hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + “How could you do so!” he asked in a reproachful tone. + </p> + <p> + “Could I do what?” asked John, turning a laughing face towards Paul. + “Didn't I tell old Mudge the exact truth? You know you did turn up that + road. To be sure you didn't go two rods before turning back. But he didn't + stop to ask about that. If he hadn't been in such a hurry, perhaps I + should have told him. Success to him!” + </p> + <p> + “You can't think how I trembled when you described me so particularly.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't think I would betray you?” said John, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “No, but I was afraid you would venture too far, and get us both into + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Trust me for that, Paul; I've got my eyes wide open, and ain't easily + caught. But wasn't it fun to see old Mudge fuming while I kept him + waiting. What would he have said if he had known the bird was so near at + hand? He looked foolish enough when I asked him if you were his son.” + </p> + <p> + John sat down and gave vent to his pent-up laughter which he had felt + obliged to restrain in the presence of Mr. Mudge. He laughed so heartily + that Paul, notwithstanding his recent fright and anxiety, could not resist + the infection. Together they laughed, till the very air seemed vocal with + merriment. + </p> + <p> + John was the first to recover his gravity. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry, Paul,” he said, “but I must bid you good-by. They will miss + me from the house. I am glad I have got acquainted with you, and I hope I + shall see you again some time before very long. Good-by, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, John.” + </p> + <p> + The two boys shook hands and parted. One went in one direction, the other + in the opposite. Each looked back repeatedly till the other was out of + sight. Then came over Paul once more a feeling of sadness and desolation, + which the high spirits of his companion had for the time kept off. + Occasionally he cast a glance backwards, to make sure that Mr. Mudge was + not following him. But Paul had no cause to fear on that score. The object + of his dread was already some miles distant in a different direction. + </p> + <p> + For an hour longer, Paul trudged on. He met few persons, the road not + being very much frequented. He was now at least twelve miles from his + starting-place, and began to feel very sensibly the effects of heat and + fatigue combined. He threw himself down upon the grass under the + overhanging branches of an appletree to rest. After his long walk repose + seemed delicious, and with a feeling of exquisite enjoyment he stretched + himself out at full length upon the soft turf, and closed his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Insensibly he fell asleep. How long he slept he could not tell. He was + finally roused from his slumber by something cold touching his cheek. + Starting up he rubbed his eyes in bewilderment, and gradually became aware + that this something was the nose of a Newfoundland dog, whose keen scent + had enabled him to discover the whereabouts of the small stock of + provisions with which Paul had been supplied by his late companion. + Fortunately he awoke in time to save its becoming the prey of its canine + visitor. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you came nigh losing your dinner,” fell upon his ears in a rough + but hearty tone. + </p> + <p> + At the same time he heard the noise of wheels, and looking up, beheld a + specimen of a class well known throughout New England—a tin pedler. + He was seated on a cart liberally stocked with articles of tin ware. From + the rear depended two immense bags, one of which served as a receptacle + for white rags, the other for bits of calico and whatever else may fall + under the designation of “colored.” His shop, for such it was, was drawn + at a brisk pace by a stout horse, who in this respect presented a contrast + to his master, who was long and lank. The pedler himself was a man of + perhaps forty, with a face in which shrewdness and good humor seemed alike + indicated. Take him for all in all, you might travel some distance without + falling in with a more complete specimen of the Yankee. + </p> + <p> + “So you came nigh losing your dinner,” he repeated, in a pleasant tone. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, “I got tired and fell asleep, and I don't know when I + should have waked up but for your dog.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Boney's got a keen scent for provisions,” laughed the pedler. “He's + a little graspin', like his namesake. You see his real name is Bonaparte; + we only call him Boney, for short.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile he had stopped his horse. He was about to start afresh, when a + thought struck him. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you're goin' my way,” said he, turning to Paul; “if you are, you're + welcome to a ride.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was very glad to accept the invitation. He clambered into the cart, + and took a seat behind the pedler, while Boney, who took his recent + disappointment very good-naturedly, jogged on contentedly behind. + </p> + <p> + “How far are you goin'?” asked Paul's new acquaintance, as he whipped up + his horse. + </p> + <p> + Paul felt a little embarrassed. If he had been acquainted with the names + of any of the villages on the route he might easily have answered. As it + was, only one name occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said he, with some hesitation, “that I shall go to New York.” + </p> + <p> + “New York!” repeated the pedler, with a whistle expressive of his + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you've a journey before you. Got any relations there?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “No uncles, aunts, cousins, nor nothing?” + </p> + <p> + Paul shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Then what makes you go? Haven't run away from your father and mother, + hey?” asked the pedler, with a knowing look. + </p> + <p> + “I have no father nor mother,” said Paul, sadly enough. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you had somebody to take care of you, I calculate. Where did you + live?” + </p> + <p> + “If I tell you, you won't carry me back?” said Paul, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. I've got too much business on hand for that.” + </p> + <p> + Relieved by this assurance, Paul told his story, encouraged thereto by + frequent questions from his companion, who seemed to take a lively + interest in the adventures of his young companion. + </p> + <p> + “That's a capital trick you played on old Mudge,” he said with a hearty + laugh which almost made the tins rattle. “I don't blame you a bit for + running away. I've got a story to tell you about Mrs. Mudge. She's a + regular skinflint.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. + </h2> + <h3> + WAYSIDE GOSSIP. + </h3> + <p> + This was the pedler's promised story about Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “The last time I was round that way, I stopped, thinking maybe they might + have some rags to dispose of for tin-ware. The old lady seemed glad to see + me, and pretty soon she brought down a lot of white rags. I thought they + seemed quite heavy for their bulk,—howsomever, I wasn't looking for + any tricks, and I let it go. By-and-by, when I happened to be ransacking + one of the bags, I came across half a dozen pounds or more of old iron + tied up in a white cloth. That let the cat out of the bag. I knew why they + were so heavy, then, I reckon I shan't call on Mrs. Mudge next time I go + by.” + </p> + <p> + “So you've run off,” he continued, after a pause, “I like your spunk,—just + what I should have done myself. But tell me how you managed to get off + without the old chap's finding it out.” + </p> + <p> + Paul related such of his adventures as he had not before told, his + companion listening with marked approval. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I'd been there,” he said. “I'd have given fifty cents, right out, + to see how old Mudge looked, I calc'late he's pretty well tired with his + wild-goose chase by this time.” + </p> + <p> + It was now twelve o'clock, and both the travelers began to feel the pangs + of hunger. + </p> + <p> + “It's about time to bait, I calc'late,” remarked the pedler. + </p> + <p> + The unsophisticated reader is informed that the word “bait,” in New + England phraseology, is applied to taking lunch or dining. + </p> + <p> + At this point a green lane opened out of the public road, skirted on + either side by a row of trees. Carpeted with green, it made a very + pleasant dining-room. A red-and-white heifer browsing at a little distance + looked up from her meal and surveyed the intruders with mild attention, + but apparently satisfied that they contemplated no invasion of her rights, + resumed her agreeable employment. Over an irregular stone wall our + travelers looked into a thrifty apple-orchard laden with fruit. They + halted beneath a spreading chestnut-tree which towered above its + neighbors, and offered them a grateful shelter from the noonday sun. + </p> + <p> + From the box underneath the seat, the pedler took out a loaf of bread, a + slice of butter, and a tin pail full of doughnuts. Paul, on his side, + brought out his bread and gingerbread. + </p> + <p> + “I most generally carry round my own provisions,” remarked the pedler, + between two mouthfuls. “It's a good deal cheaper and more convenient, too. + Help yourself to the doughnuts. I always calc'late to have some with me. + I'd give more for 'em any day than for rich cake that ain't fit for + anybody. My mother used to beat everybody in the neighborhood on making + doughnuts. She made 'em so good that we never knew when to stop eating. + You wouldn't hardly believe it, but, when I was a little shaver, I + remember eating twenty-three doughnuts at one time. Pretty nigh killed + me.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think it might,” said Paul, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Mother got so scared that she vowed she wouldn't fry another for three + months, but I guess she kinder lost the run of the almanac, for in less + than a week she turned out about a bushel more.” + </p> + <p> + All this time the pedler was engaged in practically refuting the saying, + that a man cannot do two things at once. With a little assistance from + Paul, the stock of doughnuts on which he had been lavishing encomiums, + diminished rapidly. It was evident that his attachment to this homely + article of diet was quite as strong as ever. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be afraid of them,” said he, seeing that Paul desisted from his + efforts, “I've got plenty more in the box.” + </p> + <p> + Paul signified that his appetite was already appeased. + </p> + <p> + “Then we might as well be jogging on. Hey, Goliah,” said he, addressing + the horse, who with an air of great content, had been browsing while his + master was engaged in a similar manner. “Queer name for a horse, isn't it? + I wanted something out of the common way, so I asked mother for a name, + and she gave me that. She's great on scripture names, mother is. She gave + one to every one of her children. It didn't make much difference to her + what they were as long as they were in the Bible. I believe she used to + open the Bible at random, and take the first name she happened to come + across. There are eight of us, and nary a decent name in the lot. My + oldest brother's name is Abimelech. Then there's Pharaoh, and Ishmael, and + Jonadab, for the boys, and Leah and Naomi, for the girls; but my name + beats all. You couldn't guess it?” + </p> + <p> + Paul shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you could,” said the pedler, shaking his head in comic + indignation. “It's Jehoshaphat. Ain't that a respectable name for the son + of Christian parents?” + </p> + <p> + Paul laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't be so bad,” continued the pedler, “if my other name was + longer; but Jehoshaphat seems rather a long handle to put before Stubbs. I + can't say I feel particularly proud of the name, though for use it'll do + as well as any other. At any rate, it ain't quite so bad as the name + mother pitched on for my youngest sister, who was lucky enough to die + before she needed a name.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it?” inquired Paul, really curious to know what name could be + considered less desirable than Jehoshaphat. + </p> + <p> + “It was Jezebel,” responded the pedler. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody told mother 'twould never do; but she was kind of superstitious + about it, because that was the first name she came to in the Bible, and so + she thought it was the Lord's will that that name should be given to the + child.” + </p> + <p> + As Mr. Stubbs finished his disquisition upon names, there came in sight a + small house, dark and discolored with age and neglect. He pointed this out + to Paul with his whip-handle. + </p> + <p> + “That,” said he, “is where old Keziah Onthank lives. Ever heard of him?” + </p> + <p> + Paul had not. + </p> + <p> + “He's the oldest man in these parts,” pursued his loquacious companion. + “There's some folks that seem a dyin' all the time, and for all that + manage to outlive half the young folks in the neighborhood. Old Keziah + Onthank is a complete case in p'int. As long ago as when I was cutting my + teeth he was so old that nobody know'd how old he was. He was so bowed + over that he couldn't see himself in the looking-glass unless you put it + on the floor, and I guess even then what he saw wouldn't pay him for his + trouble. He was always ailin' some way or other. Now it was rheumatism, + now the palsy, and then again the asthma. He had THAT awful. + </p> + <p> + “He lived in the same tumble-down old shanty we have just passed,—so + poor that nobody'd take the gift of it. People said that he'd orter go to + the poorhouse, so that when he was sick—which was pretty much all + the time—he'd have somebody to take care of him. But he'd got kinder + attached to the old place, seein' he was born there, and never lived + anywhere else, and go he wouldn't. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody expected he was near his end, and nobody'd have been surprised + to hear of his death at any minute. But it's strange how some folks are + determined to live on, as I said before. So Keziah, though he looked so + old when I was a boy that it didn't seem as if he could look any older, + kept on livin,' and livin', and arter I got married to Betsy Sprague, he + was livin' still. + </p> + <p> + “One day, I remember I was passin' by the old man's shanty, when I heard a + dreadful groanin', and thinks I to myself, 'I shouldn't wonder if the old + man was on his last legs.' So in I bolted. There he was, to be sure, a + lyin', on the bed, all curled up into a heap, breathin' dreadful hard, and + lookin' as white and pale as any ghost. I didn't know exactly what to do, + so I went and got some water, but he motioned it away, and wouldn't drink + it, but kept on groanin'. + </p> + <p> + “'He mustn't be left here to die without any assistance,' thinks I, so I + ran off as fast I could to find the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “I found him eatin' dinner—— + </p> + <p> + “Come quick,” says I, “to old Keziah Onthank's. He's dyin', as sure as my + name is Jehoshaphat.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the doctor, “die or no die, I can't come till I've eaten my + dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “But he's dyin', doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense. Talk of old Keziah Onthank's dyin'. He'll live longer than + I shall.” + </p> + <p> + “I recollect I thought the doctor very unfeelin' to talk so of a fellow + creetur, just stepping into eternity, as a body may say. However, it's no + use drivin' a horse that's made up his mind he won't go, so although I did + think the doctor dreadful deliberate about eatin' his dinner (he always + would take half an hour for it), I didn't dare to say a word for fear he + wouldn't come at all. You see the doctor was dreadful independent, and was + bent on havin' his own way, pretty much, though for that matter I think + it's the case with most folks. However, to come back to my story, I didn't + feel particularly comfortable while I was waitin' his motions. + </p> + <p> + “After a long while the doctor got ready. I was in such a hurry that I + actilly pulled him along, he walked so slow; but he only laughed, and I + couldn't help thinkin' that doctorin' had a hardinin' effect on the heart. + I was determined if ever I fell sick I wouldn't send for him. + </p> + <p> + “At last we got there. I went in all of a tremble, and crept to the bed, + thinkin' I should see his dead body. But he wasn't there at all. I felt a + little bothered you'd better believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the doctor, turning to me with a smile, “what do you think + now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what to think,” said I. + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll help you,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “So sayin', he took me to the winder, and what do you think I see? As sure + as I'm alive, there was the old man in the back yard, a squattin' down and + pickin' up chips.” + </p> + <p> + “And is he still living?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, or he was when I come along last. The doctor's been dead these ten + years. He told me old Keziah would outlive him, but I didn't believe him. + I shouldn't be surprised if he lived forever.” + </p> + <p> + Paul listened with amused interest to this and other stories with which + his companion beguiled the way. They served to divert his mind from the + realities of his condition, and the uncertainty which hung over his + worldly prospects. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. + </h2> + <h3> + ON THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY. + </h3> + <p> + “If you're in no great hurry to go to New York,” said the pedler, “I + should like to have you stay with me for a day or two. I live about + twenty-five miles from here, straight ahead, so it will be on your way. I + always manage to get home by Saturday night if it is any way possible. It + doesn't seem comfortable to be away Sunday. As to-day is Friday, I shall + get there to-morrow. So you can lie over a day and rest yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Paul felt grateful for this unexpected invitation. It lifted quite a load + from his mind, since, as the day declined, certain anxious thoughts as to + where he should find shelter, had obtruded themselves. Even now, the same + trouble would be experienced on Monday night, but it is the characteristic + of youth to pay little regard to anticipated difficulties as long as the + present is provided for. + </p> + <p> + It must not be supposed that the pedler neglected his business on account + of his companion. On the road he had been traveling the houses were few + and far between. He had, therefore, but few calls to make. Paul remarked, + however, that when he did call he seldom failed to sell something. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Stubbs, on being interrogated, “I make it a p'int to sell + something, if it's no more than a tin dipper. I find some hard cases + sometimes, and sometimes I have to give it up altogether. I can't quite + come up to a friend of mine, Daniel Watson, who used to be in the same + line of business. I never knew him to stop at a place without selling + something. He had a good deal of judgment, Daniel had, and knew just when + to use 'soft sodder,' and when not to. On the road that he traveled there + lived a widow woman, who had the reputation of being as ugly, + cross-grained a critter as ever lived. People used to say that it was + enough to turn milk sour for her even to look at it. Well, it so happened + that Daniel had never called there. One night he was boasting that he + never called at a house without driving a bargain, when one of the company + asked him, with a laugh, if he had ever sold the widow anything. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” said Daniel, “I never called there; but I've no doubt I could.” + </p> + <p> + “What'll you bet of it?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a betting man,” said Daniel, “but I feel so sure of it that I + don't mind risking five dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed.” + </p> + <p> + “The next morning Daniel drove leisurely up to the widow's door and + knocked. She had a great aversion to pedlers, and declared they were + cheats, every one of them. She was busy sweeping when Daniel knocked. She + came to the door in a dreadful hurry, hoping it might be an old widower in + the neighborhood that she was trying to catch. When she saw how much she + was mistaken she looked as black as a thundercloud. + </p> + <p> + “Want any tin ware to-day, ma'am?” inquired Daniel, noways discomposed. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” snapped she. + </p> + <p> + “Got all kinds,—warranted the best in the market. Couldn't I sell + you something?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a single thing,” said she, preparing to shut the door; but Daniel, + knowing all would then be lost, stepped in before she could shut it quite + to, and began to name over some of the articles he had in his wagon. + </p> + <p> + “You may talk till doomsday,” said the widow, as mad as could be, “and it + won't do a particle of good. Now, you've got your answer, and you'd better + leave the house before you are driven out.” + </p> + <p> + “Brooms, brushes, lamps——” + </p> + <p> + “Here the widow, who had been trying to keep in her anger, couldn't hold + out any longer. She seized the broom she had been sweeping with, and + brought it down with a tremendous whack upon Daniel's back. You can + imagine how hard it was, when I tell you that the force of the blow + snapped the broom in the middle. You might have thought Daniel would + resent it, but he didn't appear to notice it, though it must have hurt him + awful. He picked up the pieces, and handing them, with a polite bow, to + the widow, said, 'Now, ma'am, I'm sure you need a new broom. I've got some + capital ones out in the cart.'” + </p> + <p> + “The widow seemed kind of overpowered by his coolness. She hardly knew + what to say or what to think. However, she had broken her old broom, that + was certain, and must have a new one; so when Daniel ran out and brought + in a bundle of them, she picked out one and paid for it without saying a + word; only, when Daniel asked if he might have the pleasure of calling + again, she looked a little queer, and told him that if he considered it a + pleasure, she had no objection.” + </p> + <p> + “And did he call again?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, whenever he went that way. The widow was always very polite to him + after that, and, though she had a mortal dislike to pedlers in general, + she was always ready to trade with him. Daniel used to say that he gained + his bet and the widow's custom at ONE BLOW.” + </p> + <p> + They were now descending a little hill at the foot of which stood a + country tavern. Here Mr. Stubbs declared his intention of spending the + night. He drove into the barn, the large door of which stood invitingly + open, and unharnessed his horse, taking especial care to rub him down and + set before him an ample supply of provender. + </p> + <p> + “I always take care of Goliah myself,” said he. “He's a good friend to me, + and it's no more than right that I should take good care of him. Now, + we'll go into the house, and see what we can get for supper.” + </p> + <p> + He was surprised to see that Paul hung back, and seemed disinclined to + follow. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” asked Mr. Stubbs, in surprise. “Why don't you come?” + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said Paul, looking embarrassed, “I've got no money.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I have,” said Mr. Stubbs, “and that will answer just as well, so + come along, and don't be bashful. I'm about as hungry as a bear, and I + guess you are too.” + </p> + <p> + Before many minutes, Paul sat down to a more bountiful repast than he had + partaken of for many a day. There were warm biscuits and fresh butter, + such as might please the palate of an epicure, while at the other end of + the table was a plate of cake, flanked on one side by an apple-pie, on the + other by one of pumpkin, with its rich golden hue, such as is to be found + in its perfection, only in New England. It will scarcely be doubted that + our hungry travellers did full justice to the fare set before them. + </p> + <p> + When they had finished, they went into the public room, where were engaged + some of the village worthies, intent on discussing the news and the + political questions of the day. It was a time of considerable political + excitement, and this naturally supplied the topic of conversation. In this + the pedler joined, for his frequent travel on this route had made him + familiarly acquainted with many of those present. + </p> + <p> + Paul sat in a corner, trying to feel interested in the conversation; but + the day had been a long one, and he had undergone an unusual amount of + fatigue. Gradually, his drowsiness increased. The many voices fell upon + his ears like a lullaby, and in a few minutes he was fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + Early next morning they were up and on their way. It was the second + morning since Paul's departure. Already a sense of freedom gave his + spirits unwonted elasticity, and encouraged him to hope for the best. Had + his knowledge of the future been greater, his confidence might have been + less. But would he have been any happier? + </p> + <p> + So many miles separated him from his late home, that he supposed himself + quite safe from detection. A slight circumstance warned him that he must + still be watchful and cautious. + </p> + <p> + As they were jogging easily along, they heard the noise of wheels at a + little distance. Paul looked up. To his great alarms he recognized in the + driver of the approaching vehicle, one of the selectmen of Wrenville. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” asked his companion, noticing his sudden look of + apprehension. + </p> + <p> + Paul quickly communicated the ground of his alarm. + </p> + <p> + “And you are afraid he will want to carry you back, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. We'll circumvent the old fellow, unless he's sharper + than I think he is. You've only got to do as I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + To this Paul quickly agreed. + </p> + <p> + The selectman was already within a hundred rods. He had not yet apparently + noticed the pedler's cart, so that this was in our hero's favor. Mr. + Stubbs had already arranged his plan of operations. + </p> + <p> + “This is what you are to do, Paul,” said he, quickly. “Cock your hat on + the side of your head, considerably forward, so that he can't see much of + your face. Then here's a cigar to stick in your mouth. You can make + believe that you are smoking. If you are the sort of boy I reckon you are, + he'll never think it's you.” + </p> + <p> + Paul instantly adopted this suggestion. + </p> + <p> + Slipping his hat to one side in the jaunty manner characteristic of young + America, he began to puff very gravely at a cigar the pedler handed him, + frequently taking it from his mouth, as he had seen older persons do, to + knock away the ashes. Nothwithstanding his alarm, his love of fun made him + enjoy this little stratagem, in which he bore his part successfully. + </p> + <p> + The selectman eyed him intently. Paul began to tremble from fear of + discovery, but his apprehensions were speedily dissipated by a remark of + the new-comer, “My boy, you are forming a very bad habit.” + </p> + <p> + Paul did not dare to answer lest his voice should betray him. To his + relief, the pedler spoke—— + </p> + <p> + “Just what I tell him, sir, but I suppose he thinks he must do as his + father does.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the vehicles had passed each other, and the immediate peril + was over. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Paul,” said his companion, laughing, “I'll trouble you for that + cigar, if you have done with it. The old gentleman's advice was good. If + I'd never learned to smoke, I wouldn't begin now.” + </p> + <p> + Our hero was glad to take the cigar from his mouth. The brief time he had + held it was sufficient to make him slightly dizzy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL REACHES THE CITY. + </h3> + <p> + Towards evening they drew up before a small house with a neat yard in + front. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we'll get out here,” said Mr. Stubbs. “There's a gentleman lives + here that I feel pretty well acquainted with. Shouldn't wonder if he'd let + us stop over Sunday. Whoa, Goliah, glad to get home, hey?” as the horse + pricked up his ears and showed manifest signs of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Now, youngster, follow me, and I guess I can promise you some supper, if + Mrs. Stubbs hasn't forgotten her old tricks.” + </p> + <p> + They passed through the entry into the kitchen, where Mrs. Stubbs was + discovered before the fire toasting slices of bread. + </p> + <p> + “Lor, Jehoshaphat,” said she, “I didn't expect you so soon,” and she + looked inquiringly at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “A young friend who is going to stay with us till Monday,” explained the + pedler. “His name is Paul Prescott.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to see you, Paul,” said Mrs. Stubbs with a friendly smile. “You + must be tired if you've been traveling far. Take a seat. Here's a + rocking-chair for you.” + </p> + <p> + This friendly greeting made Paul feel quite at home. Having no children, + the pedler and his wife exerted themselves to make the time pass + pleasantly to their young acquaintance. Paul could not help contrasting + them with Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, not very much to the advantage of the + latter. On Sunday he went to church with them, and the peculiar + circumstances in which he was placed, made him listen to the sermon with + unusual attention. It was an exposition of the text, “My help cometh from + the Lord,” and Paul could not help feeling that it was particularly + applicable to his own case. It encouraged him to hope, that, however + uncertain his prospects appeared, God would help him if he put his trust + in Him. + </p> + <p> + On Monday morning Paul resumed his journey, with an ample stock of + provisions supplied by Mrs. Stubbs, in the list of which doughnuts + occupied a prominent place; this being at the particular suggestion of Mr. + Stubbs. + </p> + <p> + Forty or fifty miles remained to be traversed before his destination would + be reached. The road was not a difficult one to find, and he made it out + without much questioning. The first night, he sought permission to sleep + in a barn. + </p> + <p> + He met with a decided refusal. + </p> + <p> + He was about to turn away in disappointment, when he was called back. + </p> + <p> + “You are a little too fast, youngster. I said I wouldn't let you sleep in + my barn, and I won't; but I've got a spare bed in the house, and if you + choose you shall occupy it.” + </p> + <p> + Under the guise of roughness, this man had a kind heart. He inquired into + the particulars of Paul's story, and at the conclusion terrified him by + saying that he had been very foolish and ought to be sent back. + Nevertheless, when Paul took leave of him the next morning, he did not go + away empty-handed. + </p> + <p> + “If you must be so foolish as to set up for yourself, take this,” said the + farmer, placing half a dollar in his hand. “You may reach the city after + the banks are closed for the day, you know,” he added, jocularly. + </p> + <p> + But it was in the morning that Paul came in sight of the city. He climbed + up into a high tree, which, having the benefit of an elevated situation, + afforded him an extensive prospect. Before him lay the great city of which + he had so often heard, teeming with life and activity. + </p> + <p> + Half in eager anticipation, half in awe and wonder at its vastness, our + young pilgrim stood upon the threshold of this great Babel. + </p> + <p> + Everything looked new and strange. It had never entered Paul's mind, that + there could be so many houses in the whole State as now rose up before + him. He got into Broadway, and walked on and on thinking that the street + must end somewhere. But the farther he walked the thicker the houses + seemed crowded together. Every few rods, too, he came to a cross street, + which seemed quite as densely peopled as the one on which he was walking. + One part of the city was the same as another to Paul, since he was equally + a stranger to all. He wandered listlessly along, whither fancy led. His + mind was constantly excited by the new and strange objects which met him + at every step. + </p> + <p> + As he was looking in at a shop window, a boy of about his own age, stopped + and inquired confidentially, “when did you come from the country?” + </p> + <p> + “This morning,” said Paul, wondering how a stranger should know that he + was a country boy. + </p> + <p> + “Could you tell me what is the price of potatoes up your way?” asked the + other boy, with perfect gravity. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Paul, innocently. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry for that,” said the other, “as I have got to buy some for my + wife and family.” + </p> + <p> + Paul stared in surprise for a moment, and then realizing that he was being + made game of, began to grow angry. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better go home to your wife and family,” he said with spirit, “or + you may get hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Bully for you, country!” answered the other with a laugh. “You're not as + green as you look.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Paul, “I wish I could say as much for you.” + </p> + <p> + Tired with walking, Paul at length sat down in a doorway, and watched with + interest the hurrying crowds that passed before him. Everybody seemed to + be in a hurry, pressing forward as if life and death depended on his + haste. There were lawyers with their sharp, keen glances; merchants with + calculating faces; speculators pondering on the chances of a rise or fall + in stocks; errand boys with bundles under their arms; business men + hurrying to the slip to take the boat for Brooklyn or Jersey City,—all + seemed intent on business of some kind, even to the ragged newsboys who + had just obtained their supply of evening papers, and were now crying them + at the top of their voices,—and very discordant ones at that, so + Paul thought. Of the hundreds passing and repassing before him, every one + had something to do. Every one had a home to go to. Perhaps it was not + altogether strange that a feeling of desolation should come over Paul as + he recollected that he stood alone, homeless, friendless, and, it might + be, shelterless for the coming night. + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” thought he with something of hopefulness, “there must be something + for me to do as well as the rest.” + </p> + <p> + Just then a boy some two years older than Paul paced slowly by, and in + passing, chanced to fix his eyes upon our hero. He probably saw something + in Paul which attracted him, for he stepped up and extending his hand, + said, “why, Tom, how came you here?” + </p> + <p> + “My name isn't Tom,” said Paul, feeling a little puzzled by this address. + </p> + <p> + “Why, so it isn't. But you look just like my friend, Tom Crocker.” + </p> + <p> + To this succeeded a few inquiries, which Paul unsuspiciously answered. + </p> + <p> + “Do you like oysters?” inquired the new-comer, after a while. + </p> + <p> + “Very much.” + </p> + <p> + “Because I know of a tip top place to get some, just round the corner. + Wouldn't you like some?” + </p> + <p> + Paul thanked his new acquaintance, and said he would. + </p> + <p> + Without more ado, his companion ushered him into a basement room near by. + He led the way into a curtained recess, and both boys took seats one on + each side of a small table. + </p> + <p> + “Just pull the bell, will you, and tell the waiter we'll have two stews.” + </p> + <p> + Paul did so. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” continued the other, “the governor wouldn't like it much if + he knew where I was.” + </p> + <p> + “The governor!” repeated Paul. “Why, it isn't against the laws, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” laughed the other. “I mean my father. How jolly queer you are!” He + meant to say green, but had a purpose in not offending Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the Governor's son?” asked Paul in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” carelessly replied the other. + </p> + <p> + Paul's wonder had been excited many times in the course of the day, but + this was more surprising than anything which had yet befallen him. That he + should have the luck to fall in with the son of the Governor, on his first + arrival in the city, and that the latter should prove so affable and + condescending, was indeed surprising. Paul inwardly determined to mention + it in his first letter to Aunt Lucy. He could imagine her astonishment. + </p> + <p> + While he was busy with these thoughts, his companion had finished his + oysters. + </p> + <p> + “Most through?” he inquired nonchalantly. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to step out a minute; wait till I come back.” + </p> + <p> + Paul unsuspectingly assented. + </p> + <p> + He heard his companion say a word to the barkeeper, and then go out. + </p> + <p> + He waited patiently for fifteen minutes and he did not return; another + quarter of an hour, and he was still absent. Thinking he might have been + unexpectedly detained, he rose to go, but was called back by the + barkeeper. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, youngster! are you going off without paying?” + </p> + <p> + “For what?” inquired Paul, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “For the oysters, of course. You don't suppose I give 'em away, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought,” hesitated Paul, “that the one who was with me paid,—the + Governor's son,” he added, conscious of a certain pride in his intimacy + with one so nearly related to the chief magistrate of the Commonwealth. + </p> + <p> + “The Governor's son,” laughed the barkeeper. “Why the Governor lives a + hundred miles off and more. That wasn't the Governor's son any more than I + am.” + </p> + <p> + “He called his father governor,” said Paul, beginning to be afraid that he + had made some ridiculous blunder. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wouldn't advise you to trust him again, even if he's the + President's son. He only got you in here to pay for his oysters. He told + me when he went out that you would pay for them.” + </p> + <p> + “And didn't he say he was coming back?” asked Paul, quite dumbfounded. + </p> + <p> + “He said you hadn't quite finished, but would pay for both when you came + out. It's two shillings.” + </p> + <p> + Paul rather ruefully took out the half dollar which constituted his entire + stock of money, and tendered it to the barkeeper who returned him the + change. + </p> + <p> + So Paul went out into the streets, with his confidence in human nature + somewhat lessened. + </p> + <p> + Here, then, is our hero with twenty-five cents in his pocket, and his + fortune to make. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. + </h2> + <h3> + A STRANGE BED-CHAMBER. + </h3> + <p> + Although Paul could not help being vexed at having been so cleverly taken + in by his late companion, he felt the better for having eaten the oysters. + Carefully depositing his only remaining coin in his pocket, he resumed his + wanderings. It is said that a hearty meal is a good promoter of + cheerfulness. It was so in Paul's case, and although he had as yet had no + idea where he should find shelter for the night he did not allow that + consideration to trouble him. + </p> + <p> + So the day passed, and the evening came on. Paul's appetite returned to + him once more. He invested one-half of his money at an old woman's stall + for cakes and apples, and then he ate leisurely while leaning against the + iron railing which encircles the park. + </p> + <p> + He began to watch with interest the movements of those about him. Already + the lamplighter had started on his accustomed round, and with ladder in + hand was making his way from one lamp-post to another. Paul quite + marvelled at the celerity with which the lamps were lighted, never before + having witnessed the use of gas. He was so much interested in the process + that he sauntered along behind the lamplighter for some time. At length + his eye fell upon a group common enough in our cities, but new to him. + </p> + <p> + An Italian, short and dark-featured, with a velvet cap, was grinding out + music from a hand-organ, while a woman with a complexion equally dark, and + black sorrowful-looking eyes, accompanied her husband on the tambourine. + They were playing a lively tune as Paul came up, but quickly glided into + “Home, Sweet Home.” + </p> + <p> + Paul listened with pleased, yet sad interest, for him “home” was only a + sad remembrance. + </p> + <p> + He wandered on, pausing now and then to look into one of the brilliantly + illuminated shop windows, or catching a glimpse through the open doors of + the gay scene within, and as one after another of these lively scenes + passed before him, he began to think that all the strange and wonderful + things in the world must be collected in these rich stores. + </p> + <p> + Next, he came to a place of public amusement. Crowds were entering + constantly, and Paul, from curiosity, entered too. He passed on to a + little wicket, when a man stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “Where's your ticket?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't got any,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Then what business have you here?” said the man, roughly. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't this a meeting-house?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + This remark seemed to amuse two boys who were standing by. Looking up with + some indignation, Paul recognized in one of them the boy who had cheated + him out of the oysters. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” said Paul, “what made you go off and leave me to pay for the + oysters this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Which of us do you mean?” inquired the 'governor's son,' carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean you.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, I don't understand your meaning. Perhaps you mistake me for + somebody else.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” said Paul, in great astonishment. “Don't you remember me, and how + you told me you were the Governor's son?” + </p> + <p> + Both boys laughed. + </p> + <p> + “You must be mistaken. I haven't the honor of being related to the + distinguished gentleman you name.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker made a mocking bow to Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” said Paul, with spirit, “but you said you were, for all + that.” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been some other good-looking boy, that you are mistaking me + for. What are you going to do about it? I hope, by the way, that the + oysters agreed with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they did,” said Paul, “for I came honestly by them.” + </p> + <p> + “He's got you there, Gerald,” said the other boy. + </p> + <p> + Paul made his way out of the theater. As his funds were reduced to twelve + cents, he could not have purchased a ticket if he had desired it. + </p> + <p> + Still he moved on. + </p> + <p> + Soon he came to another building, which was in like manner lighted up, but + not so brilliantly as the theater. This time, from the appearance of the + building, and from the tall steeple,—so tall that his eye could + scarcely reach the tapering spire,—he knew that it must be a church. + There was not such a crowd gathered about the door as at the place he had + just left, but he saw a few persons entering, and he joined them. The + interior of the church was far more gorgeous than the plain village + meeting-house which he had been accustomed to attend with his mother. He + gazed about him with a feeling of awe, and sank quietly into a back pew. + As it was a week-day evening, and nothing of unusual interest was + anticipated, there were but few present, here and there one, scattered + through the capacious edifice. + </p> + <p> + By-and-by the organist commenced playing, and a flood of music, grander + and more solemn than he had ever heard, filled the whole edifice. He + listened with rapt attention and suspended breath till the last note died + away, and then sank back upon the richly cushioned seat with a feeling of + enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + In the services which followed he was not so much interested. The + officiating clergyman delivered a long homily in a dull unimpassioned + manner, which failed to awaken his interest. Already disposed to be + drowsy, it acted upon him like a gentle soporific. He tried to pay + attention as he had always been used to do, but owing to his occupying a + back seat, and the low voice of the preacher, but few words reached him, + and those for the most part were above his comprehension. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the feeling of fatigue—for he had been walking the streets + all day—became so powerful that his struggles to keep awake became + harder and harder. In vain he sat erect, resolved not to yield. The moment + afterwards his head inclined to one side; the lights began to swim before + his eyes; the voice of the preacher subsided into a low and + undistinguishable hum. Paul's head sank upon the cushion, his bundle, + which had been his constant companion during the day, fell softly to the + floor, and he fell into a deep sleep. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the sermon came to a close, and another hymn was sung, but even + the music was insufficient to wake our hero now. So the benediction was + pronounced, and the people opened the doors of their pews and left the + church. + </p> + <p> + Last of all the sexton walked up and down the aisles, closing such of the + pew doors as were open. Then he shut off the gas, and after looking around + to see that nothing was forgotten, went out, apparently satisfied, and + locked the outer door behind him. + </p> + <p> + Paul, meanwhile, wholly unconscious of his situation, slept on as + tranquilly as if there were nothing unusual in the circumstances in which + he was placed. Through the stained windows the softened light fell upon + his tranquil countenance, on which a smile played, as if his dreams were + pleasant. What would Aunt Lucy have thought if she could have seen her + young friend at this moment? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. + </h2> + <h3> + A TURN OF FORTUNE. + </h3> + <p> + Notwithstanding his singular bedchamber, Paul had a refreshing night's + sleep from which he did not awake till the sun had fairly risen, and its + rays colored by the medium through which they were reflected, streamed in + at the windows and rested in many fantastic lines on the richly carved + pulpit and luxurious pews. + </p> + <p> + Paul sprang to his feet and looked around him in bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” he exclaimed in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + In the momentary confusion of ideas which is apt to follow a sudden + awakening, he could not remember where he was, or how he chanced to be + there. But in a moment memory came to his aid, and he recalled the events + of the preceding day, and saw that he must have been locked up in the + church. + </p> + <p> + “How am I going to get out?” Paul asked himself in dismay. + </p> + <p> + This was the important question just now. He remembered that the village + meeting-house which he had been accustomed to attend was rarely opened + except on Sundays. What if this should be the case here? It was Thursday + morning, and three days must elapse before his release. This would never + do. He must seek some earlier mode of deliverance. + </p> + <p> + He went first to the windows, but found them so secured that it was + impossible for him to get them open. He tried the doors, but found, as he + had anticipated, that they were fast. His last resource failing, he was at + liberty to follow the dictates of his curiosity. + </p> + <p> + Finding a small door partly open, he peeped within, and found a flight of + steep stairs rising before him. They wound round and round, and seemed + almost interminable. At length, after he had become almost weary of + ascending, he came to a small window, out of which he looked. At his feet + lay the numberless roofs of the city, while not far away his eye rested on + thousands of masts. The river sparkled in the sun, and Paul, in spite of + his concern, could not help enjoying the scene. The sound of horses and + carriages moving along the great thoroughfare below came confusedly to his + ears. He leaned forward to look down, but the distance was so much greater + than he had thought, that he drew back in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do?” Paul asked himself, rather frightened. “I wonder if I + can stand going without food for three days? I suppose nobody would hear + me if I should scream as loud as I could.” + </p> + <p> + Paul shouted, but there was so much noise in the streets that nobody + probably heard him. + </p> + <p> + He descended the staircase, and once more found himself in the body of the + church. He went up into the pulpit, but there seemed no hope of escape in + that direction. There was a door leading out on one side, but this only + led to a little room into which the minister retired before service. + </p> + <p> + It seemed rather odd to Paul to find himself the sole occupant of so large + a building. He began to wonder whether it would not have been better for + him to stay in the poorhouse, than come to New York to die of starvation. + </p> + <p> + Just at this moment Paul heard a key rattle in the outer door. Filled with + new hope, he ran down the pulpit stairs and out into the porch, just in + time to see the entrance of the sexton. + </p> + <p> + The sexton started in surprise as his eye fell upon Paul standing before + him, with his bundle under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you come from, and how came you here?” he asked with some + suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “I came in last night, and fell asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “So you passed the night here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What made you come in at all?” inquired the sexton, who knew enough of + boys to be curious upon this point. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know where else to go,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + Paul answered with perfect truth, “I don't live anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Have you no home?” asked the sexton in surprise. + </p> + <p> + Paul shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Where should you have slept if you hadn't come in here?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose you don't know where you shall sleep to-night?” + </p> + <p> + Paul signified that he did not. + </p> + <p> + “I knew there were plenty of such cases,” said the sexton, meditatively; + “but I never seemed to realize it before.” + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been in New York?” was his next inquiry. + </p> + <p> + “Not very long,” said Paul. “I only got here yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't know anybody in the city?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you come here, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I wanted to go somewhere where I could earn a living, and I + thought I might find something to do here.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose you shouldn't find anything to do?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Paul, slowly. “I haven't thought much about that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my lad,” said the sexton, not unkindly, “I can't say your prospects + look very bright. You should have good reasons for entering on such an + undertaking. I—I don't think you are a bad boy. You don't look like + a bad one,” he added, half to himself. + </p> + <p> + “I hope not, sir,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I hope not, too. I was going to say that I wish I could help you to some + kind of work. If you will come home with me, you shall be welcome to a + dinner, and perhaps I may be able to think of something for you.” + </p> + <p> + Paul gladly prepared to follow his new acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” inquired the sexton. + </p> + <p> + “Paul Prescott.” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds like a good name. I suppose you haven't got much money?” + </p> + <p> + “Only twelve cents.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! only twelve cents. Poor boy! you are indeed poor.” + </p> + <p> + “But I can work,” said Paul, spiritedly. “I ought to be able to earn my + living.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, that's the way to feel. Heaven helps those who help + themselves.” + </p> + <p> + When they were fairly out of the church, Paul had an opportunity of + observing his companion's external appearance. He was an elderly man, with + harsh features, which would have been forbidding, but for a certain air of + benevolence which softened their expression. + </p> + <p> + As Paul walked along, he related, with less of detail, the story which is + already known to the reader. The sexton said little except in the way of + questions designed to elicit further particulars, till, at the conclusion + he said, “Must tell Hester.” + </p> + <p> + At length they came to a small house, in a respectable but not fashionable + quarter of the city. One-half of this was occupied by the sexton. He + opened the door and led the way into the sitting-room. It was plainly but + neatly furnished, the only ornament being one or two engravings cheaply + framed and hung over the mantel-piece. They were by no means gems of art, + but then, the sexton did not claim to be a connoisseur, and would probably + not have understood the meaning of the word. + </p> + <p> + “Sit here a moment,” said the sexton, pointing to a chair, “I'll go and + speak to Hester.” + </p> + <p> + Paul whiled away the time in looking at the pictures in a copy of “The + Pilgrim's Progress,” which lay on the table. + </p> + <p> + In the next room sat a woman of perhaps fifty engaged in knitting. It was + very easy to see that she could never have possessed the perishable gift + of beauty. Hers was one of the faces on which nature has written PLAIN, in + unmistakable characters. Yet if the outward features had been a reflex of + the soul within, few faces would have been more attractive than that of + Hester Cameron. At the feet of the sexton's wife, for such she was, + reposed a maltese cat, purring softly by way of showing her contentment. + Indeed, she had good reason to be satisfied. In default of children, puss + had become a privileged pet, being well fed and carefully shielded from + all the perils that beset cat-hood. + </p> + <p> + “Home so soon?” said Hester inquiringly, as her husband opened the door. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Hester, and I have brought company with me,” said the sexton. + </p> + <p> + “Company!” repeated his wife. “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a poor boy, who was accidentally locked up in the church last + night.” + </p> + <p> + “And he had to stay there all night?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but perhaps it was lucky for him, for he had no other place to + sleep, and not money enough to pay for one.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor child!” said Hester, compassionately. “Is it not terrible to think + that any human creature should be without the comforts of a home which + even our tabby possesses. It ought to make you thankful that you are so + well cared for, Tab.” + </p> + <p> + The cat opened her eyes and winked drowsily at her mistress. + </p> + <p> + “So you brought the poor boy home, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Hester,—I thought we ought not to begrudge a meal to one less + favored by fortune than ourselves. You know we should consider ourselves + the almoners of God's bounties.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew you would feel so, Hester. And suppose we have the chicken for + dinner that I sent in the morning. I begin to have a famous appetite. I + think I should enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + Hester knew perfectly well that it was for Paul's sake, and not for his + own, that her husband spoke. But she so far entered into his feelings, + that she determined to expend her utmost skill as cook upon the dinner, + that Paul might have at least one good meal. + </p> + <p> + “Now I will bring the boy in,” said he. “I am obliged to go to work, but + you will find some way to entertain him, I dare say.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will come out (this he said to Paul), I will introduce you to a + new friend.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was kindly welcomed by the sexton's wife, who questioned him in a + sympathizing tone about his enforced stay in the church. To all her + questions Paul answered in a modest yet manly fashion, so as to produce a + decidedly favorable impression upon his entertainer. + </p> + <p> + Our hero was a handsome boy. Just at present he was somewhat thin, not + having entirely recovered from the effects of his sickness and poor fare + while a member of Mr. Mudge's family; but he was well made, and bade fair + to become a stout boy. His manner was free and unembarrassed, and he + carried a letter of recommendation in his face. It must be admitted, + however that there were two points in which his appearance might have been + improved. Both his hands and face had suffered from the dust of travel. + His clothes, too, were full of dust. + </p> + <p> + A single glance told Hester all this, and she resolved to remedy it. + </p> + <p> + She quietly got some water and a towel, and requested Paul to pull off his + jacket, which she dusted while he was performing his ablutions. Then, with + the help of a comb to arrange his disordered hair, he seemed quite like a + new boy, and felt quite refreshed by the operation. + </p> + <p> + “Really, it improves him very much,” said Hester to herself. + </p> + <p> + She couldn't help recalling a boy of her own,—the only child she + ever had,—who had been accidentally drowned when about the age of + Paul. + </p> + <p> + “If he had only lived,” she thought, “how different might have been our + lives.” + </p> + <p> + A thought came into her mind, and she looked earnestly at Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I—yes I will speak to Hugh about it,” she said, speaking aloud, + unconsciously. + </p> + <p> + “Did you speak to me?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “No,—I was thinking of something.” + </p> + <p> + She observed that Paul was looking rather wistfully at a loaf of bread on + the table. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you feel hungry?” she asked, kindly. + </p> + <p> + “I dare say you have had no breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “I have eaten nothing since yesterday afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless my soul! How hungry you must be!” said the good woman, as she + bustled about to get a plate of butter and a knife. + </p> + <p> + She must have been convinced of it by the rapid manner in which the slices + of bread and butter disappeared. + </p> + <p> + At one o'clock the sexton came home. Dinner was laid, and Paul partook of + it with an appetite little affected by his lunch of the morning. As he + rose from the table, he took his cap, and saying, “Good-by, I thank you + very much for your kindness!” he was about to depart. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” asked the sexton, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” answered Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Stop a minute. Hester, I want to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + They went into the sitting-room together. + </p> + <p> + “This boy, Hester,” he commenced with hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hugh?” + </p> + <p> + “He has no home.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a hard lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think we should be the worse off if we offered to share our home + with him?” + </p> + <p> + “It is like your kind heart, Hugh. Let us go and tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “We have been talking of you, Paul,” said the sexton. “We have thought, + Hester and myself, that as you had no home and we no child, we should all + be the gainers by your staying with us. Do you consent?” + </p> + <p> + “Consent!” echoed Paul in joyful surprise. “How can I ever repay your + kindness?” + </p> + <p> + “If you are the boy we take you for, we shall feel abundantly repaid. + Hester, we can give Paul the little bedroom where—where John used to + sleep.” + </p> + <p> + His voice faltered a little, for John was the name of his boy, who had + been drowned. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. + </h2> + <h3> + YOUNG STUPID. + </h3> + <p> + Paul found the sexton's dwelling very different from his last home, if the + Poorhouse under the charge of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge deserved such a name. His + present home was an humble one, but he was provided with every needful + comfort, and the atmosphere of kindness which surrounded him, gave him a + feeling of peace and happiness which he had not enjoyed for a long time. + </p> + <p> + Paul supposed that he would be at once set to work, and even then would + have accounted himself fortunate in possessing such a home. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Cameron had other views for him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you fond of studying?” asked the sexton, as they were all three + gathered in the little sitting room, an evening or two after Paul first + came. + </p> + <p> + “Very much!” replied our hero. + </p> + <p> + “And would you like to go to school?” + </p> + <p> + “What, here in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very much indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear you say so, my lad. There is nothing like a good + education. If I had a son of my own, I would rather leave him that than + money, for while the last may be lost, the first never can be. And though + you are not my son, Paul, Providence has in a manner conducted you to me, + and I feel responsible for your future. So you shall go to school next + Monday morning, and I hope you will do yourself much credit there.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you very much,” said Paul. “I feel very grateful, but——” + </p> + <p> + “You surely are not going to object?” said the sexton. + </p> + <p> + “No, but——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Paul, go on,” seeing that the boy hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said our hero, with a sense of delicacy which did him credit, “If I + go to school, I shall not be able to earn my board, and shall be living at + your expense, though I have no claim upon you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that all?” said the sexton cheerfully, “I was afraid that it was + something more serious. As to that, I am not rich, and never expect to be. + But what little expense you will be will not ruin me. Besides, when you + are grown up and doing well, you can repay me, if I ever need it.” + </p> + <p> + “That I will,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Mind, if I ever need it,—not otherwise. There, now, it's a bargain + on that condition. You haven't any other objection,” seeing that Paul + still hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “No, or at least I should like to ask your advice,” said Paul. “Just + before my father died, he told me of a debt of five hundred dollars which + he had not been able to pay. I saw that it troubled him, and I promised to + pay it whenever I was able. I don't know but I ought to go to work so as + to keep my promise.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the sexton after a moment's reflection, “the best course will + be to go to school, at present. Knowledge is power, and a good education + will help you to make money by and by. I approve your resolution, my lad, + and if you keep it resolutely in mind I have no doubt you will accomplish + your object. But the quickest road to success is through the schoolroom. + At present you are not able to earn much. Two or three years hence will be + time enough.” + </p> + <p> + Paul's face brightened as the sexton said this. He instinctively felt that + Mr. Cameron was right. He had never forgotten his father's dying + injunction, and this was one reason that impelled him to run away from the + Almshouse, because he felt that while he remained he never would be in a + situation to carry out his father's wishes. Now his duty was reconciled + with his pleasure, and he gratefully accepted the sexton's suggestions. + </p> + <p> + The next Monday morning, in accordance with the arrangement which had just + been agreed upon, Paul repaired to school. He was at once placed in a + class, and lessons were assigned him. + </p> + <p> + At first his progress was not rapid. While living in Wrenville he had an + opportunity only of attending a country school, kept less than six months + in the year, and then not affording advantages to be compared with those + of a city school. During his father's sickness, besides, he had been kept + from school altogether. Of course all this lost time could not be made up + in a moment. Therefore it was that Paul lagged behind his class. + </p> + <p> + There are generally some in every school, who are disposed to take unfair + advantage of their schoolmates, or to ridicule those whom they consider + inferior to themselves. + </p> + <p> + There was one such in Paul's class. His name was George Dawkins. + </p> + <p> + He was rather a showy boy, and learned easily. He might have stood a class + above where he was, if he had not been lazy, and depended too much on his + natural talent. As it was, he maintained the foremost rank in his class. + </p> + <p> + “Better be the first man in a village than the second man in Rome,” he + used to say; and as his present position not only gave him the + pre-eminence which he desired, but cost him very little exertion to + maintain, he was quite well satisfied with it. + </p> + <p> + This boy stood first in his class, while Paul entered at the foot. + </p> + <p> + He laughed unmercifully at the frequent mistakes of our hero, and + jeeringly dubbed him, “Young Stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what Dawkins calls you?” asked one of the boys. + </p> + <p> + “No. What does he call me?” asked Paul, seriously. + </p> + <p> + “He calls you 'Young Stupid.'” + </p> + <p> + Paul's face flushed painfully. Ridicule was as painful to him as it is to + most boys, and he felt the insult deeply. + </p> + <p> + “I'd fight him if I were you,” was the volunteered advice of his + informant. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Paul. “That wouldn't mend the matter. Besides, I don't know but + he has some reason for thinking so.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't call yourself stupid, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I am not as far advanced as most boys of my age. That isn't my + fault, though. I never had a chance to go to school much. If I had been to + school all my life, as Dawkins has, it would be time to find out whether I + am stupid or not.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you ain't going to do anything about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am.” + </p> + <p> + “You said you wasn't going to fight him.” + </p> + <p> + “That wouldn't do any good. But I'm going to study up and see if I can't + get ahead of him. Don't you think that will be the best way of showing him + that he is mistaken?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, capital, but——” + </p> + <p> + “But you think I can't do it, I suppose,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “You know he is at the head of the class, and you are at the foot.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” said Paul, resolutely. “But wait awhile and see.” + </p> + <p> + In some way George Dawkins learned that Paul had expressed the + determination to dispute his place. It occasioned him considerable + amusement. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa, Young Stupid,” he called out, at recess. + </p> + <p> + Paul did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you answer when you are spoken to?” he asked angrily. + </p> + <p> + “When you call me by my right name,” said Paul, quietly, “I will answer, + and not before.” + </p> + <p> + “You're mighty independent,” sneered Dawkins. “I don't know but I may have + to teach you manners.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better wait till you are qualified,” said Paul, coolly. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins approached our hero menacingly, but Paul did not look in the least + alarmed, and he concluded to attack him with words only. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you have set yourself up as my rival!” he said, mockingly. + </p> + <p> + “Not just yet,” said Paul, “but in time I expect to be.” + </p> + <p> + “So you expect my place,” said Dawkins, glancing about him. + </p> + <p> + “We'll talk about that three months hence,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Don't hurt yourself studying,” sneered Dawkins, scornfully. + </p> + <p> + To this Paul did not deign a reply, but the same day he rose one in his + class. + </p> + <p> + Our hero had a large stock of energy and determination. When he had once + set his mind upon a thing, he kept steadily at work till he accomplished + it. This is the great secret of success. It sometimes happens that a man + who has done nothing will at once accomplish a brilliant success by one + spasmodic effort, but such cases are extremely rare. + </p> + <p> + “Slow and sure wins the race,” is an old proverb that has a great deal of + truth in it. + </p> + <p> + Paul worked industriously. + </p> + <p> + The kind sexton and his wife, who noticed his assiduity, strove to + dissuade him from working so steadily. + </p> + <p> + “You are working too hard, Paul,” they said. + </p> + <p> + “Do I look pale?” asked Paul, pointing with a smile to his red cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “No, but you will before long.” + </p> + <p> + “When I am, I will study less. But you know, Uncle Hugh,” so the sexton + instructed him to call him, “I want to make the most of my present + advantages. Besides, there's a particular boy who thinks I am stupid. I + want to convince him that he is mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a little ambitious, then, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it isn't that alone. I know the value of knowledge, and I want + to secure as much as I can.” + </p> + <p> + “That is an excellent motive, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't make me study less?” + </p> + <p> + “Not unless I see you are getting sick.” + </p> + <p> + Paul took good care of this. He knew how to play as well as to study, and + his laugh on the playground was as merry as any. His cheerful, obliging + disposition made him a favorite with his companions. Only George Dawkins + held out; he had, for some reason, imbibed a dislike for Paul. + </p> + <p> + Paul's industry was not without effect. He gradually gained position in + his class. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, Dawkins,” said one of his companions—the same one who + had before spoken to Paul—“Paul Prescott will be disputing your + place with you. He has come up seventeen places in a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Much good it'll do him,” said Dawkins, contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “For all that, you will have to be careful; I can tell you that.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not in the least afraid. I'm a little too firm in my position to be + ousted by Young Stupid.” + </p> + <p> + “Just wait and see.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins really entertained no apprehension. He had unbounded confidence in + himself, and felt a sense of power in the rapidity with which he could + master a lesson. He therefore did not study much, and though he could not + but see that Paul was rapidly advancing, he rejected with scorn the idea + that Young Stupid could displace him. + </p> + <p> + This, however, was the object at which Paul was aiming. He had not + forgotten the nickname which Dawkins had given him, and this was the + revenge which he sought,—a strictly honorable one. + </p> + <p> + At length the day of his triumph came. At the end of the month the master + read off the class-list, and, much to his disgust, George Dawkins found + himself playing second fiddle to Young Stupid. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. + </h2> + <h3> + BEN'S PRACTICAL JOKE. + </h3> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was in the back room, bending over a tub. It was washing-day, + and she was particularly busy. She was a driving, bustling woman, and, + whatever might be her faults of temper, she was at least industrious and + energetic. Had Mr. Mudge been equally so, they would have been better off + in a worldly point of view. But her husband was constitutionally lazy, and + was never disposed to do more than was needful. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was in a bad humor that morning. One of the cows had got into + the garden through a gap in the fence, and made sad havoc among the + cabbages. Now if Mrs. Mudge had a weakness, it was for cabbages. She was + excessively fond of them, and had persuaded her husband to set out a large + number of plants from which she expected a large crop. They were planted + in one corner of the garden, adjoining a piece of land, which, since + mowing, had been used for pasturing the cows. There was a weak place in + the fence separating the two inclosures, and this Mrs. Mudge had requested + her husband to attend to. He readily promised this, and Mrs. Mudge + supposed it done, until that same morning, her sharp eyes had detected old + Brindle munching the treasured cabbages with a provoking air of enjoyment. + The angry lady seized a broom, and repaired quickly to the scene of + devastation. Brindle scented the danger from afar, and beat a disorderly + retreat, trampling down the cabbages which she had hitherto spared. + Leaping over the broken fence, she had just cleared the gap as the + broom-handle, missing her, came forcibly down upon the rail, and was + snapped in sunder by the blow. + </p> + <p> + Here was a new vexation. Brindle had not only escaped scot-free, but the + broom, a new one, bought only the week before, was broken. + </p> + <p> + “It's a plaguy shame,” said Mrs. Mudge, angrily. “There's my best broom + broken; cost forty-two cents only last week.” + </p> + <p> + She turned and contemplated the scene of devastation. This yielded her + little consolation. + </p> + <p> + “At least thirty cabbages destroyed by that scamp of a cow,” she exclaimed + in a tone bordering on despair. “I wish I'd a hit her. If I'd broken my + broom over her back I wouldn't a cared so much. And it's all Mudge's + fault. He's the most shiftless man I ever see. I'll give him a dressing + down, see if I don't.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge's eyes snapped viciously, and she clutched the relics of the + broom with a degree of energy which rendered it uncertain what sort of a + dressing down she intended for her husband. + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes after she had re-entered the kitchen, the luckless man made + his appearance. He wore his usual look, little dreaming of the storm that + awaited him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you've come,” said Mrs. Mudge, grimly. + </p> + <p> + “What's amiss, now?” inquired Mudge, for he understood her look. + </p> + <p> + “What's amiss?” blazed Mrs. Mudge. “I'll let you know. Do you see this?” + </p> + <p> + She seized the broken broom and flourished it in his face. + </p> + <p> + “Broken your broom, have you? You must have been careless.” + </p> + <p> + “Careless, was I?” demanded Mrs. Mudge, sarcastically. “Yes, of course, + it's always I that am in fault.” + </p> + <p> + “You haven't broken it over the back of any of the paupers, have you?” + asked her husband, who, knowing his helpmeet's infirmity of temper, + thought it possible she might have indulged in such an amusement. + </p> + <p> + “If I had broken it over anybody's back it would have been yours,” said + the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Mine! what have I been doing?” + </p> + <p> + “It's what you haven't done,” said Mrs. Mudge. “You're about the laziest + and most shiftless man I ever came across.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, what does all this mean?” demanded Mr. Mudge, who was getting a + little angry in his turn. + </p> + <p> + “I'll let you know. Just look out of that window, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Mudge, innocently, “I don't see anything in particular.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't!” said Mrs. Mudge with withering sarcasm. “Then you'd better + put on your glasses. If you'd been here quarter of an hour ago, you'd have + seen Brindle among the cabbages.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she do any harm?” asked Mr. Mudge, hastily. + </p> + <p> + “There's scarcely a cabbage left,” returned Mrs. Mudge, purposely + exaggerating the mischief done. + </p> + <p> + “If you had mended that fence, as I told you to do, time and again, it + wouldn't have happened.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't tell me but once,” said Mr. Mudge, trying to get up a feeble + defence. + </p> + <p> + “Once should have been enough, and more than enough. You expect me to + slave myself to death in the house, and see to all your work besides. If + I'd known what a lazy, shiftless man you were, at the time I married you, + I'd have cut off my right hand first.” + </p> + <p> + By this time Mr. Mudge had become angry. + </p> + <p> + “If you hadn't married me, you'd a died an old maid,” he retorted. + </p> + <p> + This was too much for Mrs. Mudge to bear. She snatched the larger half of + the broom, and fetched it down with considerable emphasis upon the back of + her liege lord, who, perceiving that her temper was up, retreated hastily + from the kitchen; as he got into the yard he descried Brindle, whose + appetite had been whetted by her previous raid, re-entering the garden + through the gap. + </p> + <p> + It was an unfortunate attempt on the part of Brindle. Mr. Mudge, angry + with his wife, and smarting with the blow from the broomstick, determined + to avenge himself upon the original cause of all the trouble. Revenge + suggested craft. He seized a hoe, and crept stealthily to the + cabbage-plot. Brindle, whose back was turned, did not perceive his + approach, until she felt a shower of blows upon her back. Confused at the + unexpected attack she darted wildly away, forgetting the gap in the fence, + and raced at random over beds of vegetables, uprooting beets, parsnips, + and turnips, while Mr. Mudge, mad with rage, followed close in her tracks, + hitting her with the hoe whenever he got a chance. + </p> + <p> + Brindle galloped through the yard, and out at the open gate. Thence she + ran up the road at the top of her speed, with Mr. Mudge still pursuing + her. + </p> + <p> + It may be mentioned here that Mr. Mudge was compelled to chase the + terrified cow over two miles before he succeeded with the help of a + neighbor in capturing her. All this took time. Meanwhile Mrs. Mudge at + home was subjected to yet another trial of her temper. + </p> + <p> + It has already been mentioned that Squire Newcome was Chairman of the + Overseers of the Poor. In virtue of his office, he was expected to + exercise a general supervision over the Almshouse and its management. It + was his custom to call about once a month to look after matters, and + ascertain whether any official action or interference was needed. + </p> + <p> + Ben saw his father take his gold-headed cane from behind the door, and + start down the road. He understood his destination, and instantly the plan + of a stupendous practical joke dawned upon him. + </p> + <p> + “It'll be jolly fun,” he said to himself, his eyes dancing with fun. “I'll + try it, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + He took his way across the fields, so as to reach the Almshouse before his + father. He then commenced his plan of operations. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge had returned to her tub, and was washing away with bitter + energy, thinking over her grievances in the matter of Mr. Mudge, when a + knock was heard at the front door. + </p> + <p> + Taking her hands from the tub, she wiped them on her apron. + </p> + <p> + “I wish folks wouldn't come on washing day!” she said in a tone of + vexation. + </p> + <p> + She went to the door and opened it. + </p> + <p> + There was nobody there. + </p> + <p> + “I thought somebody knocked,” thought she, a little mystified. “Perhaps I + was mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + She went back to her tub, and had no sooner got her hands in the suds than + another knock was heard, this time on the back door. + </p> + <p> + “I declare!” said she, in increased vexation, “There's another knock. I + shan't get through my washing to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Mudge wiped her hands on her apron, and went to the door. + </p> + <p> + There was nobody there. + </p> + <p> + I need hardly say that it was Ben, who had knocked both times, and + instantly dodged round the corner of the house. + </p> + <p> + “It's some plaguy boy,” said Mrs. Mudge, her eyes blazing with anger. “Oh, + if I could only get hold of him!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you wish you could?” chuckled Ben to himself, as he caught a sly + glimpse of the indignant woman. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Squire Newcome had walked along in his usual slow and dignified + manner, until he had reached the front door of the Poorhouse, and knocked. + </p> + <p> + “It's that plaguy boy again,” said Mrs. Mudge, furiously. “I won't go this + time, but if he knocks again, I'll fix him.” + </p> + <p> + She took a dipper of hot suds from the tub in which she had been washing, + and crept carefully into the entry, taking up a station close to the front + door. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if Mrs. Mudge heard me knock,” thought Squire Newcome. “I should + think she might. I believe I will knock again.” + </p> + <p> + This time he knocked with his cane. + </p> + <p> + Rat-tat-tat sounded on the door. + </p> + <p> + The echo had not died away, when the door was pulled suddenly open, and a + dipper full of hot suds was dashed into the face of the astonished Squire, + accompanied with, “Take that, you young scamp!” + </p> + <p> + “Wh—what does all this mean?” gasped Squire Newcome, nearly + strangled with the suds, a part of which had found its way into his mouth. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Squire Newcome,” said the horrified Mrs. Mudge. “I + didn't mean it.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you mean, then?” demanded Squire Newcome, sternly. “I think you + addressed me,—ahem!—as a scamp.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I didn't mean you,” said Mrs. Mudge, almost out of her wits with + perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, sir, and let me give you a towel. You've no idea how I've been + tried this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust,” said the Squire, in his stateliest tone, “you will be able to + give a satisfactory explanation of this, ahem—extraordinary + proceeding.” + </p> + <p> + While Mrs. Mudge was endeavoring to sooth the ruffled dignity of the + aggrieved Squire, the “young scamp,” who had caused all the mischief, made + his escape through the fields. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wasn't it bully!” he exclaimed. “I believe I shall die of laughing. I + wish Paul had been here to see it. Mrs. Mudge has got herself into a + scrape, now, I'm thinking.” + </p> + <p> + Having attained a safe distance from the Poorhouse, Ben doubled himself up + and rolled over and over upon the grass, convulsed with laughter. + </p> + <p> + “I'd give five dollars to see it all over again,” he said to himself. “I + never had such splendid fun in my life.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the Squire emerged, his tall dicky looking decidedly limp and + drooping, his face expressing annoyance and outraged dignity. Mrs. Mudge + attended him to the door with an expression of anxious concern. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'd better make tracks,” said Ben to himself, “it won't do for + the old gentleman to see me here, or he may smell a rat.” + </p> + <p> + He accordingly scrambled over a stone wall and lay quietly hidden behind + it till he judged it would be safe to make his appearance. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. + </h2> + <h3> + MORE ABOUT BEN. + </h3> + <p> + “Benjamin,” said Squire Newcome, two days after the occurrence mentioned + in the last chapter, “what made the dog howl so this morning? Was you a + doing anything to him?” + </p> + <p> + “I gave him his breakfast,” said Ben, innocently. “Perhaps he was hungry, + and howling for that.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not refer to that,” said the Squire. “He howled as if in pain or + terror. I repeat; was you a doing anything to him?” + </p> + <p> + Ben shifted from one foot to the other, and looked out of the window. + </p> + <p> + “I desire a categorical answer,” said Squire Newcome. + </p> + <p> + “Don't know what categorical means,” said Ben, assuming a perplexed look. + </p> + <p> + “I desire you to answer me IMMEGIATELY,” explained the Squire. “What was + you a doing to Watch?” + </p> + <p> + “I was tying a tin-kettle to his tail,” said Ben, a little reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “And what was you a doing that for?” pursued the Squire. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to see how he would look,” said Ben, glancing demurely at his + father, out of the corner of his eye. + </p> + <p> + “Did it ever occur to you that it must be disagreeable to Watch to have + such an appendage to his tail?” queried the Squire. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Ben. + </p> + <p> + “How should you like to have a tin pail suspended to your—ahem! your + coat tail?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't got any coat tail,” said Ben, “I wear jackets. But I think I am + old enough to wear coats. Can't I have one made, father?” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem!” said the Squire, blowing his nose, “we will speak of that at some + future period.” + </p> + <p> + “Fred Newell wears a coat, and he isn't any older than I am,” persisted + Ben, who was desirous of interrupting his father's inquiries. + </p> + <p> + “I apprehend that we are wandering from the question,” said the Squire. + “Would you like to be treated as you treated Watch?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Ben, slowly, “I don't know as I should.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take care not to repeat your conduct of this morning,” said his + father. “Stay a moment,” as Ben was about to leave the room hastily. “I + desire that you should go to the post-office and inquire for letters.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Ben left the room and sauntered out in the direction of the post-office. + </p> + <p> + A chaise, driven by a stranger, stopped as it came up with him. + </p> + <p> + The driver looked towards Ben, and inquired, “Boy, is this the way to + Sparta?” + </p> + <p> + Ben, who was walking leisurely along the path, whistling as he went, never + turned his head. + </p> + <p> + “Are you deaf, boy?” said the driver, impatiently. “I want to know if this + is the road to Sparta?” + </p> + <p> + Ben turned round. + </p> + <p> + “Fine morning, sir,” he said politely. + </p> + <p> + “I know that well enough without your telling me. Will you tell me whether + this is the road to Sparta?” + </p> + <p> + Ben put his hand to his ear, and seemed to listen attentively. Then he + slowly shook his head, and said, “Would you be kind enough to speak a + little louder, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “The boy is deaf, after all,” said the driver to himself. “IS THIS THE + ROAD TO SPARTA?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, this is Wrenville,” said Ben, politely. + </p> + <p> + “Plague take it! he don't hear me yet. IS THIS THE ROAD TO SPARTA?” + </p> + <p> + “Just a little louder, if you please,” said Ben, keeping his hand to his + ear, and appearing anxious to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Deaf as a post!” muttered the driver. “I couldn't scream any louder, if I + should try. Go along.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor man! I hope he hasn't injured his voice,” thought Ben, his eyes + dancing with fun. “By gracious!” he continued a moment later, bursting + into a laugh, “if he isn't going to ask the way of old Tom Haven. He's as + deaf as I pretended to be.” + </p> + <p> + The driver had reined up again, and inquired the way to Sparta. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” said the old man, putting his hand to his ear. “I'm + rather hard of hearing.” + </p> + <p> + The traveller repeated his question in a louder voice. + </p> + <p> + The old man shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you'd better ask that boy,” he said, pointing to Ben, who by this + time had nearly come up with the chaise. + </p> + <p> + “I have had enough of him,” said the traveller, disgusted. “I believe + you're all deaf in this town. I'll get out of it as soon as possible.” + </p> + <p> + He whipped up his horse, somewhat to the old man's surprise, and drove + rapidly away. + </p> + <p> + I desire my young readers to understand that I am describing Ben as he + was, and not as he ought to be. There is no doubt that he carried his love + of fun too far. We will hope that as he grows older, he will grow wiser. + </p> + <p> + Ben pursued the remainder of his way to the Post-office without any + further adventure. + </p> + <p> + Entering a small building appropriated to this purpose, he inquired for + letters. + </p> + <p> + “There's nothing for your father to-day,” said the post-master. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps there's something for me,—Benjamin Newcome, Esq.,” said + Ben. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see,” said the post-master, putting on his spectacles; “yes, I + believe there is. Post-marked at New York, too. I didn't know you had any + correspondents there.” + </p> + <p> + “It's probably from the Mayor of New York,” said Ben, in a tone of comical + importance, “asking my advice about laying out Central Park.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably it is,” said the postmaster. “It's a pretty thick letter,—looks + like an official document.” + </p> + <p> + By this time, Ben, who was really surprised by the reception of the + letter, had opened it. It proved to be from our hero, Paul Prescott, and + inclosed one for Aunt Lucy. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Crosby,” said Ben, suddenly, addressing the postmaster, “you remember + about Paul Prescott's running away from the Poorhouse?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I didn't blame the poor boy a bit. I never liked Mudge, and they say + his wife is worse than he.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose the town should find out where he is, could they get him + back again?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you! no. They ain't so fond of supporting paupers. If he's able to + earn his own living, they won't want to interfere with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this letter is from him,” said Ben. “He's found a pleasant family + in New York, who have adopted him.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad of it,” said Mr. Crosby, heartily. “I always liked him. He was a + fine fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just what I think. I'll read his letter to you, if you would like + to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “I should, very much. Come in behind here, and sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Ben went inside the office, and sitting down on a stool, read Paul's + letter. As our reader may be interested in the contents, we will take the + liberty of looking over Ben's shoulder while he reads. + </p> + <p> + New York, Oct. 10, 18—. + </p> + <p> + DEAR BEN:— + </p> + <p> + I have been intending to write to you before, knowing the kind interest + which you take in me. I got safely to New York a few days after I left + Wrenville. I didn't have so hard a time as I expected, having fallen in + with a pedler, who was very kind to me, with whom I rode thirty or forty + miles. I wish I had time to tell all the adventures I met with on the way, + but I must wait till I see you. + </p> + <p> + When I got to the city, I was astonished to find how large it was. The + first day I got pretty tired wandering about, and strayed into a church in + the evening, not knowing where else to go. I was so tired I fell asleep + there, and didn't wake up till morning. When I found myself locked up in a + great church, I was frightened, I can tell you. It was only Thursday + morning, and I was afraid I should have to stay there till Sunday. If I + had, I am afraid I should have starved to death. But, fortunately for me, + the sexton came in the morning, and let me out. That wasn't all. He very + kindly took me home with him, and then told me I might live with him and + go to school. I like him very much, and his wife too. I call them Uncle + Hugh and Aunt Hester. When you write to me, you must direct to the care of + Mr. Hugh Cameron, 10 R—— Street. Then it will be sure to reach + me. + </p> + <p> + I am going to one of the city schools. At first, I was a good deal + troubled because I was so far behind boys of my age. You know I hadn't + been to school for a long time before I left Wrenville, on account of + father's sickness. But I studied pretty hard, and now I stand very well. I + sometimes think, Ben, that you don't care quite so much about study as you + ought to. I wish you would come to feel the importance of it. You must + excuse me saying this, as we have always been such good friends. + </p> + <p> + I sometimes think of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, and wonder whether they miss me + much. I am sure Mr. Mudge misses me, for now he is obliged to get up early + and milk, unless he has found another boy to do it. If he has, I pity the + boy. Write me what they said about my going away. + </p> + <p> + I inclose a letter for Aunt Lucy Lee, which I should like to have you give + her with your own hands. Don't trust it to Mrs. Mudge, for she doesn't + like Aunt Lucy, and I don't think she would give it to her. + </p> + <p> + Write soon, Ben, and I will answer without delay, Your affectionate + friend, PAUL PRESCOTT. + </p> + <p> + “That's a very good letter,” said Mr. Crosby; “I am glad Paul is doing so + well. I should like to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “So should I,” said Ben; “he was a prime fellow,—twice as good as I + am. That's true, what he said about my not liking study. I guess I'll try + to do better.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll make a smart boy if you only try,” said the postmaster, with whom + Ben was rather a favorite, in spite of his mischievous propensities. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Ben, laughing, “that's what my friend, the mayor of New + York, often writes me. But honestly, I know I can do a good deal better + than I am doing now. I don't know but I shall turn over a new leaf. I + suppose I like fun a little too well. Such jolly sport as I had coming to + the office this morning.” + </p> + <p> + Ben related the story of the traveller who inquired the way to Sparta, + much to the amusement of the postmaster, who, in his enjoyment of the + joke, forgot to tell Ben that his conduct was hardly justifiable. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Ben, “as soon as I have been home, I must go and see my + particular friend, Mrs. Mudge. I'm a great favorite of hers,” he added, + with a sly wink. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. + </h2> + <h3> + MRS. MUDGE'S DISCOMFITURE. + </h3> + <p> + Ben knocked at the door of the Poorhouse. In due time Mrs. Mudge appeared. + She was a little alarmed on seeing Ben, not knowing how Squire Newcome + might be affected by the reception she had given him on his last visit. + Accordingly she received him with unusual politeness. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Master Newcome?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + “As well as could be expected,” said Ben, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, is there anything the matter with you?” inquired Mrs. Mudge, her + curiosity excited by his manner of speaking. + </p> + <p> + “No one can tell what I suffer from rheumatism,” said Ben, sadly. + </p> + <p> + This was very true, since not even Ben himself could have told. + </p> + <p> + “You are very young to be troubled in that way,” said Mrs. Mudge, “and how + is your respected father, to-day?” she inquired, with some anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “I was just going to ask you, Mrs. Mudge,” said Ben, “whether anything + happened to disturb him when he called here day before yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said Mrs. Mudge, turning a little pale, “Nothing of any + consequence,—that is, not much. What makes you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought it might be so from his manner,” said Ben, enjoying Mrs. + Mudge's evident alarm. + </p> + <p> + “There was a little accident,” said Mrs. Mudge, reluctantly. “Some + mischievous boy had been knocking and running away; so, when your father + knocked, I thought it might be he, and—and I believe I threw some + water on him. But I hope he has forgiven it, as it wasn't intentional. I + should like to get hold of that boy,” said Mrs. Mudge, wrathfully, “I + should like to shake him up.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any idea who it was?” asked Ben, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Mrs. Mudge, “I haven't, but I shall try to find out. Whoever it + is, he's a scamp.” + </p> + <p> + “Very complimentary old lady,” thought Ben. He said in a sober tone, which + would have imposed upon any one, “There are a good many mischievous boys + around here.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge grimly assented. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Mudge,” asked Ben, suddenly, “have you ever heard + anything of Paul Prescott since he left you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” snapped Mrs. Mudge, her countenance growing dark, “I haven't. But I + can tell pretty well where he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “In the penitentiary. At any rate, if he isn't, he ought to be. But what + was you wanting?” + </p> + <p> + “I want to see Mrs. Lee.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Lucy Lee?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I've got a letter for her.” + </p> + <p> + “If you'll give me the letter I'll carry it to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Ben, “but I would like to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” thought Mrs. Mudge, “I'll get hold of it yet. I shouldn't + wonder at all if it was from that rascal, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Paul! It was fortunate that he had some better friends than Mr. and + Mrs. Mudge, otherwise he would have been pretty poorly off. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy came to the door. Ben placed the letter in her hands. + </p> + <p> + “Is it from Paul?” she asked, hopefully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Ben. + </p> + <p> + She opened it eagerly. “Is he well?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, well and happy,” said Ben, who treated the old lady, for whom he had + much respect, very differently from Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “I'm truly thankful for that,” said Aunt Lucy; “I've laid awake more than + one night thinking of him.” + </p> + <p> + “So has Mrs. Mudge, I'm thinking,” said Ben, slyly. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy laughed. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't much love lost between them,” said Aunt Lucy, smiling. “He + was very badly treated here, poor boy.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he, though?” repeated Mrs. Mudge? who had been listening at the + keyhole, but not in an audible voice. “Perhaps he will be again, if I get + him back. I thought that letter was from Paul. I must get hold of it some + time to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe I must go,” said Ben. “If you answer the letter, I will put it + into the office for you. I shall be passing here to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind,” said Aunt Lucy. “I am very much obliged to you for + bringing me this letter to-day. You can't tell how happy it makes me. I + have been so afraid the dear boy might be suffering.” + </p> + <p> + “It's no trouble at all,” said Ben. + </p> + <p> + “She's a pretty good woman,” thought he, as he left the house. “I wouldn't + play a trick on her for a good deal. But that Mrs. Mudge is a hard case. I + wonder what she would have said if she had known that I was the 'scamp' + that troubled her so much Monday. If I had such a mother as that, by + jingo, I'd run away to sea.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was bent upon reading Aunt Lucy's letter. Knowing it to be from + Paul, she had a strong curiosity to know what had become of him. If she + could only get him back! Her heart bounded with delight as she thought of + the annoyances to which, in that case, she could subject him. It would be + a double triumph over him and Aunt Lucy, against whom she felt that mean + spite with which a superior nature is often regarded by one of a lower + order. + </p> + <p> + After some reflection, Mrs. Mudge concluded that Aunt Lucy would probably + leave the letter in the little chest which was appropriated to her use, + and which was kept in the room where she slept. The key of this chest had + been lost, and although Aunt Lucy had repeatedly requested that a new one + should be obtained, Mrs. Mudge had seen fit to pay no attention to her + request, as it would interfere with purposes of her own, the character of + which may easily be guessed. + </p> + <p> + As she suspected, Paul's letter had been deposited in this chest. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, the same afternoon, she left her work in the kitchen in order + to institute a search for it. As a prudent precaution, however, she just + opened the door of the common room, to make sure that Aunt Lucy was at + work therein. + </p> + <p> + She made her way upstairs, and entering the room in which the old lady + lodged, together with two others, she at once went to the chest and opened + it. + </p> + <p> + She began to rummage round among the old lady's scanty treasures, and at + length, much to her joy, happened upon the letter, laid carefully away in + one corner of the chest. She knew it was the one she sought, from the + recent postmark, and the address, which was in the unformed handwriting of + a boy. To make absolutely certain, she drew the letter from the envelope + and looked at the signature. + </p> + <p> + She was right, as she saw at a glance. It was from Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Now I'll see what the little rascal has to say for himself,” she + muttered, “I hope he's in distress; oh, how I'd like to get hold of him.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge began eagerly to read the letter, not dreaming of interruption. + But she was destined to be disappointed. To account for this we must + explain that, shortly after Mrs. Mudge looked into the common room, Aunt + Lucy was reminded of something essential, which she had left upstairs. She + accordingly laid down her work upon the chair in which she had been + sitting, and went up to her chamber. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was too much preoccupied to hear the advancing steps. + </p> + <p> + As the old lady entered the chamber, what was her mingled indignation and + dismay at seeing Mrs. Mudge on her knees before <i>her</i> chest, with the + precious letter, whose arrival had gladdened her so much, in her hands. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing there, Mrs. Mudge?” she said, sternly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge rose from her knees in confusion. Even she had the grace to be + ashamed of her conduct. + </p> + <p> + “Put down that letter,” said the old lady in an authoritative voice quite + new to her. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge, who had not yet collected her scattered senses, did as she was + requested. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy walked hastily to the chest, and closed it, first securing the + letter, which she put in her pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I hope it will be safe, now,” she said, rather contemptuously. “Ain't you + ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Mudge?” + </p> + <p> + “Ashamed of myself!” shrieked that amiable lady, indignant with herself + for having quailed for a moment before the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean—you—you pauper?” + </p> + <p> + “I may be a pauper,” said Aunt Lucy, calmly, “But I am thankful to say + that I mind my own business, and don't meddle with other people's chests.” + </p> + <p> + A red spot glowed on either cheek of Mrs. Mudge. She was trying hard to + find some vantage-ground over the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that I don't mind my business?” she blustered, folding + her arms defiantly. + </p> + <p> + “What were you at my trunk for?” said the old lady, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Because it was my duty,” was the brazen reply. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge had rapidly determined upon her line of defense, and thought it + best to carry the war into the enemy's country. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I felt sure that your letter was from Paul Prescott, and as he ran + away from my husband and me, who were his lawful guardians, it was my duty + to take that means of finding out where he is. I knew that you were in + league with him, and would do all you could to screen him. This is why I + went to your chest, and I would do it again, if necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you have been before,” said Aunt Lucy, scornfully. “I think I + understand, now, why you were unwilling to give me another key. + Fortunately there has been nothing there until now to reward your search.” + </p> + <p> + “You impudent trollop!” shrieked Mrs. Mudge, furiously. + </p> + <p> + Her anger was the greater, because Aunt Lucy was entirely correct in her + supposition that this was not the first visit her landlady had made to the + little green chest. + </p> + <p> + “I'll give Paul the worst whipping he ever had, when I get him back,” said + Mrs. Mudge, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “He is beyond your reach, thank Providence,” said Aunt Lucy, whose + equanimity was not disturbed by this menace, which she knew to be an idle + one. “That is enough for you to know. I will take care that you never have + another chance to see this letter. And if you ever go to my chest again”— + </p> + <p> + “Well, ma'am, what then?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall appeal for protection to 'Squire Newcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Hoity, toity,” said Mrs. Mudge, but she was a little alarmed, + nevertheless, as such an appeal would probably be prejudicial to her + interest. + </p> + <p> + So from time to time Aunt Lucy received, through Ben, letters from Paul, + which kept her acquainted with his progress at school. These letters were + very precious to the old lady, and she read them over many times. They + formed a bright link of interest which bound her to the outside world, and + enabled her to bear up with greater cheerfulness against the tyranny of + Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL OBTAINS A SITUATION. + </h3> + <p> + The month after Paul Prescott succeeded in reaching the head of his class, + George Dawkins exerted himself to rise above him. He studied better than + usual, and proved in truth a formidable rival. But Paul's spirit was + roused. He resolved to maintain his position if possible. He had now + become accustomed to study, and it cost him less effort. When the end of + the month came, there was considerable speculation in the minds of the + boys as to the result of the rivalry. The majority had faith in Paul, but + there were some who, remembering how long Dawkins had been at the head of + the class, thought he would easily regain his lost rank. + </p> + <p> + The eventful day, the first of the month, at length came, and the + class-list was read. + </p> + <p> + Paul Prescott ranked first. + </p> + <p> + George Dawkins ranked second. + </p> + <p> + A flush spread over the pale face of Dawkins, and he darted a malignant + glance at Paul, who was naturally pleased at having retained his rank. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins had his satellites. One of these came to him at recess, and + expressed his regret that Dawkins had failed of success. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins repelled the sympathy with cold disdain. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose I care for the head of the class?” he demanded, + haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you had been studying for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you thought wrong. Let the sexton's son have it, if he wants it. It + would be of no use to me, as I leave this school at the end of the week.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave school!” + </p> + <p> + The boys gathered about Dawkins, curiously. + </p> + <p> + “Is it really so, Dawkins?” they inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Dawkins, with an air of importance; “I shall go to a private + school, where the advantages are greater than here. My father does not + wish me to attend a public school any longer.” + </p> + <p> + This statement was made on the spur of the moment, to cover the + mortification which his defeat had occasioned him. It proved true, + however. On his return home, Dawkins succeeded in persuading his father to + transfer him to a private school, and he took away his books at the end of + the week. Had he recovered his lost rank there is no doubt that he would + have remained. + </p> + <p> + Truth to tell, there were few who mourned much for the departure of George + Dawkins. He had never been a favorite. His imperious temper and arrogance + rendered this impossible. + </p> + <p> + After he left school, Paul saw little of him for two or three years. At + their first encounter Paul bowed and spoke pleasantly, but Dawkins looked + superciliously at him without appearing to know him. + </p> + <p> + Paul's face flushed proudly, and afterwards he abstained from making + advances which were likely to be repulsed. He had too much self-respect to + submit voluntarily to such slights. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Paul's school life fled rapidly. It was a happy time,—happy + in its freedom from care, and happy for him, though all school boys do not + appreciate that consideration, in the opportunities for improvement which + it afforded. These opportunities, it is only just to Paul to say, were + fully improved. He left school with an enviable reputation, and with the + good wishes of his schoolmates and teachers. + </p> + <p> + Paul was now sixteen years old, a stout, handsome boy, with a frank, open + countenance, and a general air of health which formed quite a contrast to + the appearance he presented when he left the hospitable mansion which Mr. + Nicholas Mudge kept open at the public expense. + </p> + <p> + Paul was now very desirous of procuring a situation. He felt that it was + time he was doing something for himself. He was ambitious to relieve the + kind sexton and his wife of some portion, at least, of the burden of his + support. + </p> + <p> + Besides, there was the legacy of debt which his father had bequeathed him. + Never for a moment had Paul forgotten it. Never for a moment had he + faltered in his determination to liquidate it at whatever sacrifice to + himself. + </p> + <p> + “My father's name shall be cleared,” he said to himself, proudly. “Neither + Squire Conant nor any one else shall have it in his power to cast reproach + upon his memory.” + </p> + <p> + The sexton applauded his purpose. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, Paul,” he said. “But you need not feel in haste. + Obtain your education first, and the money will come by-and-by. As long as + you repay the amount, principal and interest, you will have done all that + you are in honor bound to do. Squire Conant, as I understand from you, is + a rich man, so that he will experience no hardship in waiting.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was now solicitous about a place. The sexton had little influence, so + that he must depend mainly upon his own inquiries. + </p> + <p> + He went into the reading-room of the Astor House every day to look over + the advertised wants in the daily papers. Every day he noted down some + addresses, and presented himself as an applicant for a position. + Generally, however, he found that some one else had been before him. + </p> + <p> + One day his attention was drawn to the following advertisement. + </p> + <p> + “WANTED. A smart, active, wide-awake boy, of sixteen or seventeen, in a + retail dry-goods store. Apply immediately at—Broadway.” + </p> + <p> + Paul walked up to the address mentioned. Over the door he read, “Smith + & Thompson.” This, then, was the firm that had advertised. + </p> + <p> + The store ran back some distance. There appeared to be six or eight clerks + in attendance upon quite a respectable number of customers. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Smith in?” inquired Paul, of the nearest clerk. + </p> + <p> + “You'll find him at the lower end of the store. How many yards, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + This last was of course addressed to a customer. + </p> + <p> + Paul made his way, as directed, to the lower end of the store. + </p> + <p> + A short, wiry, nervous man was writing at a desk. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mr. Smith in?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “My name; what can I do for you?” said the short man, crisply. + </p> + <p> + “I saw an advertisement in the Tribune for a boy.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have applied for the situation?” said Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “How old are you?” with a rapid glance at our hero. + </p> + <p> + “Sixteen—nearly seventeen.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that means that you will be seventeen in eleven months and a + half.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Paul, “I shall be seventeen in three months.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Most boys call themselves a year older. What's your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Paul Prescott.” + </p> + <p> + “P. P. Any relation to Fanny Fern?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Paul, rather astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't know but you might be. P. P. and F. F. Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + Paul mentioned the street and number. + </p> + <p> + “That's well, you are near by,” said Mr. Smith. “Now, are you afraid of + work?” + </p> + <p> + “No sir,” said Paul, smiling, “not much.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's important; how much wages do you expect?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Paul, hesitating, “I couldn't expect very much at + first.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not; green, you know. What do you say to a dollar a week?” + </p> + <p> + “A dollar a week!” exclaimed Paul, in dismay, “I hoped to get enough to + pay for my board.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense. There are plenty of boys glad enough to come for a dollar a + week. At first, you know. But I'll stretch a point with you, and offer you + a dollar and a quarter. What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “How soon could I expect to have my wages advanced?” inquired our hero, + with considerable anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Smith, “at the end of a month or two.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go home and speak to my uncle about it,” said Paul, feeling + undecided. + </p> + <p> + “Can't keep the place open for you. Ah, there's another boy at the door.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll accept,” said Paul, jumping to a decision. He had applied in so many + different quarters without success, that he could not make up his mind to + throw away this chance, poor as it seemed. + </p> + <p> + “When shall I come?” + </p> + <p> + “Come to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “At what time, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “At seven o'clock.” + </p> + <p> + This seemed rather early. However, Paul was prepared to expect some + discomforts, and signified that he would come. + </p> + <p> + As he turned to go away, another boy passed him, probably bent on the same + errand with himself. + </p> + <p> + Paul hardly knew whether to feel glad or sorry. He had expected at least + three dollars a week, and the descent to a dollar and a quarter was rather + disheartening. Still, he was encouraged by the promise of a rise at the + end of a month or two,—so on the whole he went home cheerful. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Paul, what luck to-day?” asked Mr. Cameron, who had just got home + as Paul entered. + </p> + <p> + “I've got a place, Uncle Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + “You have,—where?” + </p> + <p> + “With Smith & Thompson, No.—Broadway.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a store? I don't remember the name.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a retail dry-goods store.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you like the looks of your future employer?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Paul, hesitating, “He looked as if he might be a + pretty sharp man in business, but I have seen others that I would rather + work for. However, beggars mustn't be choosers. But there was one thing I + was disappointed about.” + </p> + <p> + “What was that, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “About the wages.” + </p> + <p> + “How much will they give you?” + </p> + <p> + “Only a dollar and a quarter a week, at first.” + </p> + <p> + “That is small, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “The most I think of, Uncle Hugh, is, that I shall still be an expense to + you. I hoped to get enough to be able to pay my board from the first.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy,” said the sexton, kindly, “don't trouble yourself on that + score. It costs little more for three than for two, and the little I + expend on your account is richly made up by the satisfaction we feel in + your society, and your good conduct.” + </p> + <p> + “You say that to encourage me, Uncle Hugh,” said Paul. “You have done all + for me. I have done nothing for you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Paul, I spoke the truth. Hester and I have both been happier since + you came to us. We hope you will long remain with us. You are already as + dear to us as the son that we lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Uncle Hugh,” said Paul, in a voice tremulous with feeling. “I + will do all I can to deserve your kindness.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXI. + </h2> + <h3> + SMITH AND THOMPSON'S YOUNG MAN. + </h3> + <p> + At seven o'clock the next morning Paul stood before Smith & Thompson's + store. + </p> + <p> + As he came up on one side, another boy came down on the other, and crossed + the street. + </p> + <p> + “Are you the new boy?” he asked, surveying Paul attentively. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Paul. “I've engaged to work for Smith & + Thompson.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. I'm glad to see you,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + This looked kind, and Paul thanked him for his welcome. + </p> + <p> + “O.” said the other, bursting into a laugh, “you needn't trouble yourself + about thanking me. I'm glad you've come, because now I shan't have to open + the store and sweep out. Just lend a hand there; I'll help you about + taking down the shutters this morning, and to-morrow you'll have to get + along alone.” + </p> + <p> + The two boys opened the store. + </p> + <p> + “What's your name?” asked Paul's new acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “Paul Prescott. What is yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Nicholas Benton. You may call me MR. Benton.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Benton?” repeated Paul in some astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I'm a young man now. I've been Smith & Thompson's boy till now. + Now I'm promoted.” + </p> + <p> + Paul looked at MR. Benton with some amusement. That young man was somewhat + shorter than himself, and sole proprietor of a stock of pale yellow hair + which required an abundant stock of bear's grease to keep it in order. His + face was freckled and expressionless. His eyebrows and eyelashes were of + the same faded color. He was dressed, however, with some pretensions to + smartness. He wore a blue necktie, of large dimensions, fastened by an + enormous breast-pin, which, in its already tarnished splendor, suggested + strong doubts as to the apparent gold being genuine. + </p> + <p> + “There's the broom, Paul,” said Mr. Benton, assuming a graceful position + on the counter. + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to sweep out; only look sharp about raising a dust, or + Smith'll be into your wool.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a man is Mr. Smith?” asked Paul, with some curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “O, he's an out and outer. Sharp as a steel trap. He'll make you toe the + mark.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you like him?” asked Paul, not quite sure whether he understood his + employer's character from the description. + </p> + <p> + “I don't like him well enough to advise any of my folks to trade with + him,” said Mr. Benton. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “He'd cheat 'em out of their eye teeth if they happened to have any,” said + the young man coolly, beginning to pick his teeth with a knife. + </p> + <p> + Paul began to doubt whether he should like Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” said Mr. Benton after a pause, “have you begun to shave yet?” + </p> + <p> + Paul looked up to see if his companion were in earnest. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said he; “I haven't got along as far as that. Have you?” + </p> + <p> + “I,” repeated the young man, a little contemptuously, “of course I have. + I've shaved for a year and a half.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you find it hard shaving?” asked Paul, a little slyly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my beard is rather stiff,” said the late BOY, with an important + air, “but I've got used to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you rather young to shave, Nicholas?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Benton, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean, Mr. Benton.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I was when I begun. But now I am nineteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Nineteen?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is to say, I'm within a few months of being nineteen. What do + you think of my moustache?” + </p> + <p> + “I hadn't noticed it.” + </p> + <p> + “The store's rather dark,” muttered Mr. Benton, who seemed a little + annoyed by this answer. “If you'll come a little nearer you can see it.” + </p> + <p> + Drawing near, Paul, after some trouble, descried a few scattering hairs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, wanting to laugh, “I see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Coming on finely, isn't it?” asked Mr. Nicholas Benton, complacently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, rather doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mind letting you into a secret,” said Benton, affably, “if you + won't mention it. I've been using some of the six weeks' stuff.” + </p> + <p> + “The what?” asked Paul, opening his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't you heard of it?” inquired Benton, a little contemptuously. + “Where have you been living all your life? Haven't you seen it advertised,—warranted + to produce a full set of whiskers or moustaches upon the smoothest face, + etc. I got some a week ago, only a dollar. Five weeks from now you'll see + something that'll astonish you.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was not a little amused by his new companion, and would have laughed, + but that he feared to offend him. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better get some,” said Mr. Benton. “I'll let you just try mine + once, if you want to.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Paul; “I don't think I want to have a moustache just + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps you're right. Being a boy, perhaps it wouldn't be + advisable.” + </p> + <p> + “When does Mr. Smith come in?” + </p> + <p> + “Not till nine.” + </p> + <p> + “And the other clerks?” + </p> + <p> + “About eight o'clock. I shan't come till eight, to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “There's one thing I should like to ask you,” said Paul. “Of course you + won't answer unless you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Out with it.” + </p> + <p> + “How much does Mr. Smith pay you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ahem!” said Benton, “what does he pay you?” + </p> + <p> + “A dollar and a quarter a week.” + </p> + <p> + “He paid me a dollar and a half to begin with.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he? He wanted me to come first at a dollar.” + </p> + <p> + “Just like him. Didn't I tell you he was an out and outer? He'll be sure + to take you in if you will let him.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Paul, anxiously, “he said he'd raise it in a month or two.” + </p> + <p> + “He won't offer to; you'll have to tease him. And then how much'll he + raise it? Not more than a quarter. How much do you think I get now?” + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here?” + </p> + <p> + “A year and a half.” + </p> + <p> + “Five dollars a week,” guessed Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Five! he only gives me two and a half. That is, he hasn't been paying me + but that. Now, of course, he'll raise, as I've been promoted.” + </p> + <p> + “How much do you expect to get now?” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe four dollars, and I'm worth ten any day. He's a mean old skinflint, + Smith is.” + </p> + <p> + This glimpse at his own prospects did not tend to make Paul feel very + comfortable. He could not repress a sigh of disappointment when he thought + of this mortifying termination of all his brilliant prospects. He had long + nourished the hope of being able to repay the good sexton for his outlay + in his behalf, besides discharging the debt which his father had left + behind him. Now there seemed to be little prospect of either. He had half + a mind to resign his place immediately upon the entrance of Mr. Smith, but + two considerations dissuaded him; one, that the sum which he was to + receive, though small, would at least buy his clothes, and besides, he was + not at all certain of obtaining another situation. + </p> + <p> + With a sigh, therefore, he went about his duties. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely got the store ready when some of the clerks entered, and + the business of the day commenced. At nine Mr. Smith appeared. + </p> + <p> + “So you're here, Peter,” remarked he, as he caught sight of our hero. + </p> + <p> + “Paul,” corrected the owner of that name. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Peter or Paul, don't make much difference. Both were + apostles, if I remember right. All ready for work, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Paul, neither very briskly nor cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Smith, after a pause, “I guess I'll put you into the + calico department. Williams, you may take him under your wing. And now + Peter,—all the same, Paul,—I've got a word or two to say to + you, as I always do to every boy who comes into my store. Don't forget + what you're here for? It's to sell goods. Take care to sell something to + every man, woman, and child, that comes in your way. That's the way to do + business. Follow it up, and you'll be a rich man some day.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose they don't want anything?” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Make 'em want something,” returned Smith, “Don't let 'em off without + buying. That's my motto. However, you'll learn.” + </p> + <p> + Smith bustled off, and began in his nervous way to exercise a general + supervision over all that was going on in the store. He seemed to be all + eyes. While apparently entirely occupied in waiting upon a customer, he + took notice of all the customers in the store, and could tell what they + bought, and how much they paid. + </p> + <p> + Paul listened attentively to the clerk under whom he was placed for + instruction. + </p> + <p> + “What's the price of this calico?” inquired a common-looking woman. + </p> + <p> + “A shilling a yard, ma'am,” (this was not in war times.) + </p> + <p> + “It looks rather coarse.” + </p> + <p> + “Coarse, ma'am! What can you be thinking of? It is a superfine piece of + goods. We sell more of it than of any other figure. The mayor's wife was + in here yesterday, and bought two dress patterns off of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Did she?” asked the woman, who appeared favorably impressed by this + circumstance. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and she promised to send her friends here after some of it. You'd + better take it while you can get it.” + </p> + <p> + “Will it wash?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure it will.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I guess you may cut me off ten yards.” + </p> + <p> + This was quickly done, and the woman departed with her purchase. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later, another woman entered with a bundle of the same + figured calico. + </p> + <p> + Seeing her coming, Williams hastily slipped the remnant of the piece out + of sight. + </p> + <p> + “I got this calico here,” said the newcomer, “one day last week. You + warranted it to wash, but I find it won't. Here's a piece I've tried.” + </p> + <p> + She showed a pattern, which had a faded look. + </p> + <p> + “You've come to the wrong store,” said Williams, coolly. “You must have + got the calico somewhere else.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm sure I got it here. I remember particularly buying it of you.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got a better memory than I have, then. We haven't got a piece of + calico like that in the store.” + </p> + <p> + Paul listened to this assertion with unutterable surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite certain I bought it here,” said the woman, perplexed. + </p> + <p> + “Must have been the next store,—Blake & Hastings. Better go over + there.” + </p> + <p> + The woman went out. + </p> + <p> + “That's the way to do business,” said Williams, winking at Paul. + </p> + <p> + Paul said nothing, but he felt more than ever doubtful about retaining his + place. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. + </h2> + <h3> + MR. BENTON'S ADVENTURE. + </h3> + <p> + One evening, about a fortnight after his entrance into Smith & + Thompson's employment, Paul was putting up the shutters, the business of + the day being over. It devolved upon him to open and close the store, and + usually he was the last one to go home. + </p> + <p> + This evening, however, Mr. Nicholas Benton graciously remained behind and + assisted Paul in closing the store. This was unusual, and surprised Paul a + little. It was soon explained, however. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Nicholas,—I mean, Mr. Benton,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite yet. I want you to walk a little way with me this evening.” + </p> + <p> + Paul hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Come, no backing out. I want to confide to you a very important secret.” + </p> + <p> + He looked so mysterious that Paul's curiosity was aroused, and reflecting + that it was yet early, he took his companion's proffered arm, and + sauntered along by his side. + </p> + <p> + “What's the secret?” he asked at length, perceiving that Nicholas was + silent. + </p> + <p> + “Wait till we get to a more retired place.” + </p> + <p> + He turned out of Broadway into a side street, where the passers were less + numerous. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think you could guess,” said the young man, turning towards our + hero. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I could.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet,” continued Benton, meditatively, “it is possible that you may + have noticed something in my appearance just a little unusual, within the + last week. Haven't you, now?” + </p> + <p> + Paul could not say that he had. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Benton looked a little disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody can tell what has been the state of my feelings,” he resumed after + a pause. + </p> + <p> + “You ain't sick?” questioned Paul, hastily. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing of the sort, only my appetite has been a good deal affected. I + don't think I have eaten as much in a week as you would in a day,” he + added, complacently. + </p> + <p> + “If I felt that way I should think I was going to be sick,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I'll let you into the secret,” said Mr. Benton, lowering his voice, and + looking carefully about him, to make sure that no one was within hearing + distance—“I'M IN LOVE.” + </p> + <p> + This seemed so utterly ludicrous to Paul, that he came very near losing + Mr. Benton's friendship forever by bursting into a hearty laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't think of that,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “It's taken away my appetite, and I haven't been able to sleep nights,” + continued Mr. Benton, in a cheerful tone. “I feel just as Howard Courtenay + did in the great story that's coming out in the Weekly Budget. You've read + it, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I have,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Then you ought to. It's tiptop. It's rather curious too that the lady + looks just as Miranda does, in the same story.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, and I'll read the description.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Benton pulled a paper from his pocket,—the last copy of the + Weekly Budget,—and by the light of a street lamp read the following + extract to his amused auditor. + </p> + <p> + “Miranda was just eighteen. Her form was queenly and majestic. Tall and + stately, she moved among her handmaidens with a dignity which revealed her + superior rank. Her eyes were dark as night. Her luxuriant tresses,—there, + the rest is torn off,” said Mr. Benton, in a tone of vexation. + </p> + <p> + “She is tall, then?” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, just like Miranda.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said our hero, in some hesitation, “I should think she would not + be very well suited to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” asked Mr. Benton, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said Paul, “you're rather short, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm about the medium height,” said Mr. Benton, raising himself upon his + toes as he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Not quite,” said Paul, trying not to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I'm as tall as Mr. Smith,” resumed Mr. Benton, in a tone which warned + Paul that this was a forbidden subject. “But you don't ask me who she is.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know as you would be willing to tell.” + </p> + <p> + “I shan't tell any one but you. It's Miss Hawkins,—firm of Hawkins + & Brewer. That is, her father belongs to the firm, not she. And Paul,” + here he clutched our hero's arm convulsively, “I've made a declaration of + my love, and—and——” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “She has answered my letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she?” asked Paul with some curiosity, “What did she say?” + </p> + <p> + “She has written me to be under her window this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Why under her window? why didn't she write you to call?” + </p> + <p> + “Probably she will, but it's more romantic to say, 'be under my window.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps it is; only you know I don't know much about such things.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not, Paul,” said Mr. Benton; “you're only a boy, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to be under her window, Nich,—I mean Mr. Benton?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Do you think I would miss the appointment? No earthly power + could prevent my doing it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I had better leave you,” said Paul, making a movement to go. + </p> + <p> + “No, I want you to accompany me as far as the door. I feel—a little + agitated. I suppose everybody does when they are in love,” added Mr. + Benton, complacently. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Paul, “I will see you to the door, but I can't stay, for they + will wonder at home what has become of me.” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + “Are we anywhere near the house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's only in the next street,” said Mr. Benton, “O, Paul, how my + heart beats! You can't imagine how I feel!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Benton gasped for breath, and looked as if he had swallowed a fish + bone, which he had some difficulty in getting down. + </p> + <p> + “You'll know how to understand my feelings sometime, Paul,” said Mr. + Benton; “when your time comes, I will remember your service of to-night, + and I will stand by you.” + </p> + <p> + Paul inwardly hoped that he should never fall in love, if it was likely to + affect him in the same way as his companion, but he thought it best not to + say so. + </p> + <p> + By this time they had come in sight of a three-story brick house, with + Benjamin Hawkins on the door-plate. + </p> + <p> + “That's the house,” said Mr. Benton, in an agitated whisper. + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and that window on the left-hand side is the window of her chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “She told me in the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “And where are you to stand?” + </p> + <p> + “Just underneath, as the clock strikes nine. It must be about the time.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the city clock struck nine. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Benton left Paul, and crossing the street, took up his position + beneath the window of his charmer, beginning to sing, in a thin, piping + voice, as preconcerted between them— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ever of thee, + I'm fo-o-ondly dreaming.” + </pre> + <p> + The song was destined never to be finished. + </p> + <p> + From his post in a doorway opposite, Paul saw the window softly open. He + could distinguish a tall female figure, doubtless Miss Hawkins herself. + She held in her hand a pitcher of water, which she emptied with + well-directed aim full upon the small person of her luckless admirer. + </p> + <p> + The falling column struck upon his beaver, thence spreading on all sides. + His carefully starched collar became instantly as limp as a rag, while his + coat suffered severely from the shower. + </p> + <p> + His tuneful accents died away in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Ow!” he exclaimed, jumping at least a yard, and involuntarily shaking + himself like a dog, “who did that?” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer save a low, musical laugh from the window above, which + was involuntarily echoed by Paul. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by laughing at me?” demanded Mr. Benton, smarting with + mortification, as he strode across the street, trying to dry his hat with + the help of his handkerchief, “Is this what you call friendship?” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” gasped Paul, “but I really couldn't help it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see anything to laugh at,” continued Mr. Benton, in a resentful + tone; “because I have been subjected to unmanly persecution, you must + laugh at me, instead of extending to me the sympathy of a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you won't think of her any more,” said Paul, recovering + himself. + </p> + <p> + “Think of her!” exclaimed Mr. Benton, “would you have me tear her from my + heart, because her mercenary parent chooses to frown upon our love, and + follow me with base persecution.” + </p> + <p> + “Her parent!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was he who threw the water upon me. But it shall not avail,” the + young man continued, folding his arms, and speaking in a tone of + resolution, “bolts and bars shall not keep two loving hearts asunder.” + </p> + <p> + “But it wasn't her father,” urged Paul, perceiving that Mr. Benton was + under a mistake. + </p> + <p> + “Who was it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “It was the young lady herself.” + </p> + <p> + “Who threw the water upon me? It is a base slander.” + </p> + <p> + “But I saw her.” + </p> + <p> + “Saw who?” + </p> + <p> + “A tall young lady with black hair.” + </p> + <p> + “And was it she who threw the water?” asked Mr. Benton, aghast at this + unexpected revelation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she did it at the command of her proud parent.” + </p> + <p> + Paul did not dispute this, since it seemed to comfort Mr. Benton. It is + doubtful, however, whether the young man believed it himself, since he + straightway fell into a fit of gloomy abstraction, and made no response + when Paul bade him “good-night.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL LOSES HIS SITUATION AND GAINS A FRIEND. + </h3> + <p> + Paul had a presentiment that he should not long remain in the employ of + Smith & Thompson; it was not many weeks before this presentiment was + verified. + </p> + <p> + After having received such instruction as was necessary, the calico + department was left in Paul's charge. One day a customer in turning over + the patterns shown her took up a piece which Paul knew from complaints + made by purchasers would not wash. + </p> + <p> + “This is pretty,” said she, “it is just what I have been looking for. You + may cut me off twelve yards.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, though,” interposed the lady, “will it wash?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think it will,” said Paul, frankly, “there have been some + complaints made about that.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall not want it. Let me see what else you have got.” + </p> + <p> + The customer finally departed, having found nothing to suit her. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had she left the store than Mr. Smith called Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Well, did you sell that lady anything?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” demanded Smith, harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Because she did not like any of the pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't she have ordered a dress pattern if you had not told her the + calico would not wash?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I suppose so,” said Paul, preparing for a storm. + </p> + <p> + “Then why did you tell her?” demanded his employer, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “Because she asked me.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't you have told her that it would wash?” + </p> + <p> + “That would not have been the truth,” said Paul, sturdily. + </p> + <p> + “You're a mighty conscientious young man,” sneered Smith, “You're + altogether too pious to succeed in business. I discharge you from my + employment.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir,” said Paul, his heart sinking, but keeping up a brave + exterior, “then I have only to bid you good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, sir,” said his employer with mock deference, “I advise you + to study for the ministry, and no longer waste your talents in selling + calico.” + </p> + <p> + Paul made no reply, but putting on his cap walked out of the store. It was + the middle of the week, and Mr. Smith was, of course, owing him a small + sum for his services; but Paul was too proud to ask for his money, which + that gentleman did not see fit to volunteer. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I have done right,” thought Paul. “I had no right to + misrepresent the goods to that lady. I wonder what Uncle Hugh will say.” + </p> + <p> + “You did perfectly right,” said the sexton, after Paul had related the + circumstances of his dismissal. “I wouldn't have had you act differently + for twenty situations. I have no doubt you will get a better position + elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so,” said Paul. “Now that I have lost the situation, Uncle Hugh, I + don't mind saying that I never liked it.” + </p> + <p> + Now commenced a search for another place. Day after day Paul went out, and + day after day he returned with the same want of success. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Paul,” said the sexton encouragingly. “When you do succeed, + perhaps you'll get something worth waiting for.” + </p> + <p> + One morning Paul went out feeling that something was going to happen,—he + didn't exactly know what,—but he felt somehow that there was to be a + change in his luck. He went out, therefore, with more hopefulness than + usual; yet, when four o'clock came, and nothing had occurred except + failure and disappointment, which unhappily were not at all out of the + ordinary course, Paul began to think that he was very foolish to have + expected anything. + </p> + <p> + He was walking listlessly along a narrow street, when, on a sudden, he + heard an exclamation of terror, of which, on turning round, he easily + discovered the cause. + </p> + <p> + Two spirited horses, attached to an elegant carriage, had been terrified + in some way, and were now running at the top of their speed. + </p> + <p> + There was no coachman on the box; he had dismounted in order to ring at + some door, when the horses started. He was now doing his best to overtake + the horses, but in a race between man and horse, it is easy to predict + which will have the advantage. + </p> + <p> + There seemed to be but one person in the carriage. It was a lady,—whose + face, pale with terror, could be seen from the carriage window. Her loud + cries of alarm no doubt terrified the horses still more, and, by + accelerating their speed, tended to make matters worse. + </p> + <p> + Paul was roused from a train of despondent reflections by seeing the + horses coming up the street. He instantly comprehended the whole danger of + the lady's situation. + </p> + <p> + Most boys would have thought of nothing but getting out of the way, and + leaving the carriage and its inmate to their fate. What, indeed, could a + boy do against a pair of powerful horses, almost beside themselves with + fright? + </p> + <p> + But our hero, as we have already had occasion to see, was brave and + self-possessed, and felt an instant desire to rescue the lady, whose + glance of helpless terror, as she leaned her head from the window, he + could see. Naturally quickwitted, it flashed upon him that the only way to + relieve a horse from one terror, was to bring another to bear upon him. + </p> + <p> + With scarcely a moment's premeditation, he rushed out into the middle of + the street, full in the path of the furious horses, and with his cheeks + pale, for he knew his danger, but with determined air, he waved his arms + aloft, and cried “Whoa!” at the top of his voice. + </p> + <p> + The horses saw the sudden movement. They saw the boy standing directly in + front of them. They heard the word of command to which they had been used, + and by a sudden impulse, relieved from the blind terror which had urged + them on, they stopped suddenly, and stood still in the middle of the + street, still showing in their quivering limbs the agitation through which + they had passed. + </p> + <p> + Just then the coachman, panting with his hurried running, came up and + seized them by the head. + </p> + <p> + “Youngster,” said he, “you're a brave fellow. You've done us a good + service to-day. You're a pretty cool hand, you are. I don't know what + these foolish horses would have done with the carriage if it had not been + for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me get out,” exclaimed the lady, not yet recovered from her fright. + </p> + <p> + “I will open the door,” said Paul, observing that the coachman was fully + occupied in soothing the horses. + </p> + <p> + He sprang forward, and opening the door of the carriage assisted the lady + to descend. + </p> + <p> + She breathed quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I have been very much frightened,” she said; “and I believe I have been + in very great danger. Are you the brave boy who stopped the horses?” + </p> + <p> + Paul modestly answered in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “And how did you do it? I was so terrified that I was hardly conscious of + what was passing, till the horses stopped.” + </p> + <p> + Paul modestly related his agency in the matter. + </p> + <p> + The lady gazed at his flushed face admiringly. + </p> + <p> + “How could you have so much courage?” she asked. “You might have been + trampled to death under the hoofs of the horses.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't think of that. I only thought of stopping the horses.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a brave boy. I shudder when I think of your danger and mine. I + shall not dare to get into the carriage again this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to accompany you home?” said Paul, politely. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; I will trouble you to go with me as far as Broadway, and then + I can get into an omnibus.” + </p> + <p> + She turned and addressed some words to the coachman, directing him to + drive home as soon as the horses were quieted, adding that she would trust + herself to the escort of the young hero, who had rescued her from the late + peril. + </p> + <p> + “You're a lucky boy,” thought John, the coachman. “My mistress is one that + never does anything by halves. It won't be for nothing that you have + rescued her this afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + As they walked along, the lady, by delicate questioning, succeeded in + drawing from our hero his hopes and wishes for the future. Paul, who was + of a frank and open nature, found it very natural to tell her all he felt + and wished. + </p> + <p> + “He seems a remarkably fine boy,” thought the lady to herself. “I should + like to do something for him.” + </p> + <p> + They emerged into Broadway. + </p> + <p> + “I will detain you a little longer,” said the lady; “and perhaps trouble + you with a parcel.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be very glad to take it,” said Paul politely. + </p> + <p> + Appleton's bookstore was close at hand. Into this the lady went, followed + by her young companion. + </p> + <p> + A clerk advanced, and inquired her wishes. + </p> + <p> + “Will you show me some writing-desks?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to purchase a writing-desk for a young friend of mine,” she + explained to Paul; “as he is a boy, like yourself, perhaps you can guide + me in the selection.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Paul, unsuspiciously. + </p> + <p> + Several desks were shown. Paul expressed himself admiringly of one made of + rosewood inlaid with pearl. + </p> + <p> + “I think I will take it,” said the lady. + </p> + <p> + The price was paid, and the desk was wrapped up. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Mrs. Danforth, for this proved to be her name, “I will trouble + you, Paul, to take the desk for me, and accompany me in the omnibus, that + is, if you have no other occupation for your time.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite at leisure,” said Paul. “I shall be most happy to do so.” + </p> + <p> + Paul left the lady at the door of her residence in Fifth Avenue, and + promised to call on his new friend the next day. + </p> + <p> + He went home feeling that, though he had met with no success in obtaining + a place, he had been very fortunate in rendering so important a service to + a lady whose friendship might be of essential service to him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL CALLS ON MRS. DANFORTH. + </h3> + <p> + “Mrs. Edward Danforth,” repeated the sexton, on hearing the story of + Paul's exploit. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she attends our church.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know Mr. Danforth?” asked Paul, with interest. + </p> + <p> + “Only by sight. I know him by reputation, however.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is very rich.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I should judge so. At any rate, he is doing an extensive business.” + </p> + <p> + “What is his business?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a merchant.” + </p> + <p> + “A merchant,” thought Paul; “that is just what I should like to be, but I + don't see much prospect of it.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you like Mrs. Danforth?” inquired the sexton. + </p> + <p> + “Very much,” said Paul, warmly. “She was very kind, and made me feel quite + at home in her company.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope she may be disposed to assist you. She can easily do so, in her + position.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Paul did not as usual go out in search of a situation. His + mind was occupied with thoughts of his coming interview with Mrs. + Danforth, and he thought he would defer his business plans till the + succeeding day. + </p> + <p> + At an early hour in the evening, he paused before an imposing residence on + Fifth Avenue, which he had seen but not entered the day previous. + </p> + <p> + He mounted the steps and pulled the bell. + </p> + <p> + A smart-looking man-servant answered his ring. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. Danforth at home?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I believe so.” + </p> + <p> + “I have called to see her.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she expect you?” asked the servant, looking surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I come at her appointment,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose it's all right,” said the man. “Will you come in?” he + asked, a little doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + Paul followed him into the house, and was shown into the drawing-room, the + magnificence of which somewhat dazzled his eyes; accustomed only to the + plain sitting-room of Mr. Cameron. + </p> + <p> + The servant reappeared after a brief absence, and with rather more + politeness than he had before shown, invited Paul to follow him to a + private sitting-room upstairs, where he would see Mrs. Danforth. + </p> + <p> + Looking at Paul's plain, though neat clothes, the servant was a little + puzzled to understand what had obtained for Paul the honor of being on + visiting terms with Mrs. Danforth. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Paul,” said Mrs. Danforth, rising from her seat and + welcoming our hero with extended hand. “So you did not forget your + appointment.” + </p> + <p> + “There was no fear of that,” said Paul, with his usual frankness. “I have + been looking forward to coming all day.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you, indeed?” said the lady with a pleasant smile. + </p> + <p> + “Then I must endeavor to make your visit agreeable to you. Do you + recognize this desk?” + </p> + <p> + Upon a table close by, was the desk which had been purchased the day + previous, at Appleton's. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, “it is the one you bought yesterday. I think it is very + handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you think so. I think I told you that I intended it for a + present. I have had the new owner's name engraved upon it.” + </p> + <p> + Paul read the name upon the plate provided for the purpose. His face + flushed with surprise and pleasure. That name was his own. + </p> + <p> + “Do you really mean it for me,” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “If you will accept it,” said Mrs. Danforth, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I shall value it very much,” said Paul, gratefully. “And I feel very much + indebted to your kindness.” + </p> + <p> + “We won't talk of indebtedness, for you remember mine is much the greater. + If you will open the desk you will find that it is furnished with what + will, I hope, prove of use to you.” + </p> + <p> + The desk being opened, proved to contain a liberal supply of stationery, + sealing wax, postage stamps, and pens. + </p> + <p> + Paul was delighted with his new present, and Mrs. Danforth seemed to enjoy + the evident gratification with which it inspired him. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said she, “tell me a little about yourself. Have you always lived + in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “Only about three years,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “And where did you live before?” + </p> + <p> + “At Wrenville, in Connecticut.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard of the place. A small country town, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + Paul answered in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + “How did you happen to leave Wrenville, and come to New York?” + </p> + <p> + Paul blushed, and hesitated a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I ran away,” he said at length, determined to keep nothing back. + </p> + <p> + “Ran away! Not from home, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “I had no home,” said Paul, soberly. “I should never have left there, if + my father had not died. Then I was thrown upon the world. I was sent to + the Poorhouse. I did not want to go, for I thought I could support + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a very honorable feeling. I suppose you did not fare very well at + the Poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + In reply, Paul detailed some of the grievances to which he had been + subjected. Mrs. Danforth listened with sympathizing attention. + </p> + <p> + “You were entirely justified in running away,” she said, as he concluded. + “I can hardly imagine so great a lack of humanity as these people showed. + You are now, I hope, pleasantly situated?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron treat me with as great kindness as + if I were their own child.” + </p> + <p> + “Cameron! Is not that the name of the sexton of our church?” said Mrs. + Danforth, meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “It is with him that I have a pleasant home.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I am glad to hear it. You have been attending school, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is not more than two months since I left off school.” + </p> + <p> + “And now I suppose you are thinking of entering upon some business.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I have been trying to obtain a place in some merchant's + counting-room.” + </p> + <p> + “You think, then, that you would like the career of a merchant?” + </p> + <p> + “There is nothing that would suit me better.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not succeeded in obtaining a place yet, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “No. They are very difficult to get, and I have no influential friends to + assist me.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard Mr. Danforth say that he experienced equal difficulty when + he came to New York, a poor boy.” + </p> + <p> + Paul looked surprised. + </p> + <p> + “I see that you are surprised,” said Mrs. Danforth, smiling. “You think, + perhaps, judging from what you see, that my husband was always rich. But + he was the son of a poor farmer, and was obliged to make his own way in + the world. By the blessing of God, he has been prospered in business and + become rich. But he often speaks of his early discouragements and small + beginnings. I am sorry he is not here this evening. By the way, he left + word for you to call at his counting-room to-morrow, at eleven o'clock. I + will give you his address.” + </p> + <p> + She handed Paul a card containing the specified number, and soon after he + withdrew, bearing with him his handsome gift, and a cordial invitation to + repeat his call. + </p> + <p> + He looked back at the elegant mansion which he had just left, and could + not help feeling surprised that the owner of such a palace, should have + started in life with no greater advantages than himself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV. + </h2> + <h3> + AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. + </h3> + <p> + Paul slept late the next morning. He did not hear the breakfast-bell, and + when the sexton came up to awaken him he rubbed his eyes with such an + expression of bewilderment that Mr. Cameron could not forbear laughing. + </p> + <p> + “You must have had queer dreams, Paul,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Hugh,” said Paul, laughing, “I believe I have.” + </p> + <p> + “When you have collected your wits, which at present seem absent on a + wool-gathering expedition, perhaps you will tell what you have been + dreaming about.” + </p> + <p> + “So I will,” said Paul, “and perhaps you can interpret it for me. I + dreamed that I was back again at Mr. Mudge's, and that he sent me out into + the field to dig potatoes. I worked away at the first hill, but found no + potatoes. In place of them were several gold pieces. I picked them up in + great surprise, and instead of putting them into the basket, concluded to + put them in my pocket. But as all the hills turned out in the same way I + got my pockets full, and had to put the rest in the basket. I was just + wondering what they would do for potatoes, when all at once a great dog + came up and seized me by the arm——” + </p> + <p> + “And you opened your eyes and saw me,” said the sexton, finishing out his + narrative. + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, that's very complimentary to me. However, some of our + potatoes have escaped transformation into gold pieces, but I am afraid you + will find them rather cold if you don't get down to breakfast pretty + quick.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Uncle Hugh. I'll be down in a jiffy.” + </p> + <p> + About half-past ten Paul started on his way to Mr. Danforth's + counting-room. It was located on Wall Street, as he learned from the card + which had been given him by Mrs. Danforth. He felt a little awkward in + making this call. It seemed as if he were going to receive thanks for the + service which he had rendered, and he felt that he had already been + abundantly repaid. However, he was bound in courtesy to call, since he did + so at the request of Mrs. Danforth. + </p> + <p> + It was a large stone building, divided up into offices, to which Paul had + been directed. Mr. Danforth's office he found after a little search, upon + the second floor. + </p> + <p> + He opened the door with a little embarrassment, and looked about him. + </p> + <p> + In one corner was a small room, used as a more private office, the door of + which was closed. In the larger room the only one whom he saw, was a boy, + apparently about his own age, who was standing at a desk and writing. + </p> + <p> + This boy looked around as Paul entered, and he at once recognized in him + an old acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “George Dawkins!” he exclaimed in surprise. + </p> + <p> + The latter answered in a careless indifferent tone, not exhibiting any + very decided pleasure at meeting his old schoolmate. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's you, Prescott, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, “I haven't met you since you left our school.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I believe we have not met,” said Dawkins, in the same tone as before. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been in this office?” asked our hero. + </p> + <p> + “I really can't say,” said Dawkins, not looking up. + </p> + <p> + “You can't say!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm rather forgetful.” + </p> + <p> + Paul could not help feeling chilled at the indifferent manner in which his + advances were met. He had been really glad to see Dawkins, and had + addressed him with cordiality. He could not conceal from himself that + Dawkins did not seem inclined to respond to it. + </p> + <p> + “Still,” thought Paul, extenuatingly, “perhaps that is his way.” + </p> + <p> + As the conversation began to flag, Paul was reminded of his errand by + Dawkins saying, in a tone which was half a sneer, “Have you any business + with Mr. Danforth this morning, or did you merely come in out of + curiosity?” + </p> + <p> + “I have called to see Mr. Danforth,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “He is usually pretty busy in the morning,” said Dawkins. + </p> + <p> + “He directed me to call in the morning,” said Paul, sturdily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed!” said Dawkins, a little surprised. “I wonder,” he thought, + “what business this fellow can have with Mr. Danforth. Can he be fishing + for a place?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Danforth is engaged with a visitor just now,” he at length + condescended to say; “if your time is not too valuable to wait, you can + see him by-and-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Paul, rather nettled, “you are very polite.” + </p> + <p> + To this Dawkins made no reply, but resumed his pen, and for the next ten + minutes seemed entirely oblivious of Paul's presence. + </p> + <p> + Our hero took up the morning paper, and began, as he had so often done + before, to look over the list of wants, thinking it possible he might find + some opening for himself. + </p> + <p> + About ten minutes later the door of the inner office opened, and two + gentlemen came out. One was a gentleman of fifty, a business friend of Mr. + Danforth's, the other was Mr. Danforth himself. + </p> + <p> + The former remarked, on seeing Paul, “Is this your son, Danforth?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the merchant, nodding in a friendly manner to Paul. + </p> + <p> + “That's a good joke,” thought Dawkins, chuckling to himself; “Mr. Danforth + must be immensely flattered at having a sexton's adopted son taken for + his.” + </p> + <p> + After a final word or two on business matters, and arrangements for + another interview, the visitor departed, and Mr. Danforth, now at leisure, + turned to Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Now my lad,” he said kindly, “if you will follow me, we shall have a + chance to talk a little.” + </p> + <p> + Paul followed the merchant into his office, the door of which was closed, + much to the regret of Dawkins, who had a tolerably large share of + curiosity, and was very anxious to find out what business Paul could + possibly have with his employer. + </p> + <p> + “Take that seat, if you please;” said Mr. Danforth, motioning Paul to an + arm-chair, and sitting down himself, “Mrs. Danforth told me from how great + a peril you rescued her. You are a brave boy.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Paul, modestly, “I didn't think of the danger. If I + had, perhaps I should have hesitated.” + </p> + <p> + “If you had not been brave you would have thought of your own risk. My + wife and myself are under very great obligations to you.” + </p> + <p> + “That more than repays me for all I did,” said Paul, in a tone of mingled + modesty and manliness. + </p> + <p> + “I like the boy,” thought Mr. Danforth; “he is certainly quite superior to + the common run.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you left school?” he inquired, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Last term closed my school life.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have never been in a situation.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! Before you left school?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, since.” + </p> + <p> + “You did not like it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “And was that the reason of your leaving?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; my employer was not satisfied with me,” said Paul, frankly. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! I am surprised to hear this! If you have no objection, will you + tell me the circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + Paul related in a straightforward manner the difficulty he had had with + Smith & Thompson. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you don't think I did wrong,” he concluded. + </p> + <p> + “By no means,” said Mr. Danforth, warmly. “Your conduct was entirely + creditable. As for Smith, I know of him. He is a sharper. It would have + done you no good to remain in his employ.” + </p> + <p> + Paul was pleased with this commendation. He had thought it possible that + his dismissal from his former situation might operate against him with the + merchant. + </p> + <p> + “What are your present plans and wishes?” asked Mr. Danforth, after a + slight pause. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to enter a merchant's counting-room,” said Paul, “but as + such places are hard to get, I think I shall try to get into a store.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth reflected a moment, then placing a piece of paper before our + hero, he said, “Will you write your name and address on this piece of + paper, that I may know where to find you, in case I hear of a place?” + </p> + <p> + Paul did as directed. He had an excellent handwriting, a point on which + the merchant set a high value. + </p> + <p> + The latter surveyed the address with approval, and said, “I am glad you + write so excellent a hand. It will be of material assistance to you in + securing a place in a counting-room. Indeed, it has been already, for I + have just thought of a place which I can obtain for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you, sir?” said Paul, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “In my own counting-room,” said Mr. Danforth, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “I am very much obliged to you,” said Paul, hardly believing his ears. + </p> + <p> + “I was prepared to give it to you when you came in, in case I found you + qualified. The superiority of your handwriting decides me. When can you + come?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, if you like, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I like your promptness. As it is the middle of the week, however, you may + take a vacation till Monday. Your salary will begin to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give you five dollars per week at first, and more as your services + become more valuable. Will that be satisfactory?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall feel rich, sir. Mr. Smith only gave me a dollar and a quarter.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will find other differences between me and Mr. Smith,” said + the merchant, smiling. + </p> + <p> + These preliminaries over, Mr. Danforth opened the door, and glancing at + Dawkins, said, “Dawkins, I wish you to become acquainted with your fellow + clerk, Paul Prescott.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins looked surprised, and anything but gratified as he responded + stiffly, “I have the honor of being already acquainted with Mr. Prescott.” + </p> + <p> + “He is a little jealous of an interloper,” thought Mr. Danforth, noticing + the repellent manner of young Dawkins. “Never mind, they will get + acquainted after awhile.” + </p> + <p> + When George Dawkins went home to dinner, his father observed the + dissatisfied look he wore. + </p> + <p> + “Is anything amiss, my son?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “I should think there was,” grumbled his son. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “We've got a new clerk, and who do you think it is?” + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “The adopted son of old Cameron, the sexton.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said Mrs. Dawkins. “I really wonder at Mr. Danforth's bad taste. + There are many boys of genteel family, who would have been glad of the + chance. This boy is a low fellow of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said her son, though he was quite aware that this was not + true. + </p> + <p> + “What could have brought the boy to Danforth's notice?” asked Dawkins, + senior. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I'm sure. The boy has managed to get round him in some way. + He is very artful.” + </p> + <p> + “I really think, husband, that you ought to remonstrate with Mr. Danforth + about taking such a low fellow into his counting-room with our George.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh!” said Mr. Dawkins, who was a shade more sensible than his wife, + “he'd think me a meddler.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, George,” pursued his mother, “there's one thing that is due + to your family and bringing up,—not to associate with this low + fellow any more than business requires.” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly shall not,” said George, promptly. + </p> + <p> + He was the worthy son of such a mother. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. + </h2> + <h3> + A VULGAR RELATION. + </h3> + <p> + At the end of the first week, Paul received five dollars, the sum which + the merchant had agreed to pay him for his services. With this he felt + very rich. He hurried home, and displayed to the sexton the crisp bank + note which had been given him. + </p> + <p> + “You will soon be a rich man, Paul,” said Mr. Cameron, with a benevolent + smile, returning the bill. + </p> + <p> + “But I want you to keep it, Uncle Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I put it in the Savings Bank, for you, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean that. You have been supporting me—giving me board and + clothes—for three years. It is only right that you should have what + I earn.” + </p> + <p> + “The offer is an honorable one on your part, Paul,” said the sexton; “but + I don't need it. If it will please you, I will take two dollars a week for + your board, now, and out of the balance you may clothe yourself, and save + what you can.” + </p> + <p> + This arrangement seemed to be a fair one. Mr. Cameron deposited the five + dollar note in his pocket-book, and passed one of three dollars to Paul. + This sum our hero deposited the next Monday morning, in a savings bank. He + estimated that he could clothe himself comfortably for fifty dollars a + year. This would leave him one hundred towards the payment of the debt due + to Squire Conant. + </p> + <p> + “By-and-by my salary will be raised,” thought Paul. “Then I can save + more.” + </p> + <p> + He looked forward with eager anticipation to the time when he should be + able to redeem his father's name, and no one would be entitled to cast + reproach upon his memory. + </p> + <p> + He endeavored to perform his duties faithfully in the office, and to learn + as rapidly as he could the business upon which he had entered. He soon + found that he must depend mainly upon himself. George Dawkins seemed + disposed to afford him no assistance, but repelled scornfully the advances + which Paul made towards cordiality. He was by no means as faithful as + Paul, but whenever Mr. Danforth was absent from the office, spent his time + in lounging at the window, or reading a cheap novel, with one of which he + was usually provided. + </p> + <p> + When Paul became satisfied that Dawkins was not inclined to accept his + overtures, he ceased to court his acquaintance, and confined himself to + his own desk. + </p> + <p> + One day as he was returning from dinner, he was startled by an + unceremonious slap upon the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Looking up in some surprise, he found that this greeting had come from a + man just behind him, whose good-humored face and small, twinkling eyes, he + at once recognized. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Stubbs?” inquired Paul, his face lighting up with + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so's to be round. How be you?” returned the worthy pedler, seizing + our hero's hand and shaking it heartily. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Stubbs was attired in all the glory of a blue coat with brass buttons + and swallow tails. + </p> + <p> + “When did you come to New York?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Just arrived; that is, I got in this mornin'. But I say, how you've + grown. I shouldn't hardly have known you.” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't you, though?” said Paul, gratified as most boys are, on being + told that he had grown. “Have you come to the city on business?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, kinder on business, and kinder not. I thought I'd like to have a + vacation. Besides, the old lady wanted a silk dress, and she was sot on + havin' it bought in York. So I come to the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you stopping, Mr. Stubbs?” + </p> + <p> + “Over to the Astor House. Pretty big hotel, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see you are traveling in style.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose they charge considerable, but I guess I can stand it. I + hain't been drivin' a tin-cart for nothin' the last ten years. + </p> + <p> + “How have you been enjoying yourself since you arrived?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pretty well. I've been round seeing the lions, and came pretty near + seeing the elephant at one of them Peter Funk places.” + </p> + <p> + “You did! Tell me about it.” + </p> + <p> + “You see I was walkin' along when a fellow came out of one of them places, + and asked me if I wouldn't go in. I didn't want to refuse such a polite + invitation, and besides I had a curiosity to see what there was to be + seen, so I went in. They put up a silver watch, I could see that it was a + good one, and so I bid on it. It ran up to eight dollars and a quarter. I + thought it was a pity it should go off so cheap, so I bid eight and a + half.” + </p> + <p> + “'Eight and a half and sold,' said the man; 'shall I put it up for you?” + </p> + <p> + “'No, I thank you,' said I, 'I'll take it as it is.' + </p> + <p> + “'But I'll put it up in a nice box for you,' said he. + </p> + <p> + “I told him I didn't care for the box. He seemed very unwilling to let it + go, but I took it out of his hand and he couldn't help himself. Well, when + they made out the bill, what do you suppose they charged?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, eighteen and a half.” + </p> + <p> + “'Look here,' said I, 'I guess here's something of a mistake. You've got + ten dollars too much.' + </p> + <p> + “'I think you must be mistaken,' said he, smiling a foxy smile. + </p> + <p> + “'You know I am not,' said I, rather cross. + </p> + <p> + “We can't let that watch go for any thing shorter,' said he, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Just then a man that was present stepped up and said, 'the man is right; + don't attempt to impose upon him.' + </p> + <p> + “With that he calmed right down. It seems it was a policeman who was sent + to watch them, that spoke. So I paid the money, but as I went out I heard + the auctioneer say that the sale was closed for the day. I afterwards + learned that if I had allowed them to put the watch in a box, they would + have exchanged it for another that was only plated.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know anybody in the city?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I've got some relations, but I don't know where they live.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the name?” asked Paul, “we can look into the directory.” + </p> + <p> + “The name is Dawkins,” answered the pedler. + </p> + <p> + “Dawkins!” repeated Paul, in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, do you happen to know anybody of the name?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I believe it is a rich family.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, so are my relations,” said Jehoshaphat. “You didn't think + Jehoshaphat Stubbs had any rich relations, did you? These, as I've heard + tell, hold their heads as high as anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I may be mistaken,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “What is the name—the Christian name, I mean—of your + relation?” + </p> + <p> + “George.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be he, then. There is a boy of about my own age of that name. He + works in the same office.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't say so! Well, that is curious, I declare. To think that I + should have happened to hit upon you so by accident too.” + </p> + <p> + “How are you related to them?” inquired Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you see, I'm own cousin to Mr. Dawkins. His father and my mother + were brother and sister.” + </p> + <p> + “What was his father's business?” asked Paul. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what his regular business was, but he was a sexton in some + church.” + </p> + <p> + This tallied with the account Paul had received from Mr. Cameron, and he + could no longer doubt that, strange as it seemed, the wealthy Mr. Dawkins + was own cousin to the pedler. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you say the boy was in the same office with you, Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I've a great mind to go and see him, and find out where his father + lives. Perhaps I may get an invite to his house.” + </p> + <p> + “How shocked Dawkins will be!” thought Paul, not, it must be confessed, + without a feeling of amusement. He felt no compunction in being the + instrument of mortifying the false pride of his fellow clerk, and he + accordingly signified to Mr. Stubbs that he was on his way to the + counting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Are you, though? Well, I guess I'll go along with you. Is it far off?” + </p> + <p> + “Only in the next street.” + </p> + <p> + The pedler, it must be acknowledged, had a thoroughly countrified + appearance. He was a genuine specimen of the Yankee,—a long, gaunt + figure, somewhat stooping, and with a long aquiline nose. His dress has + already been described. + </p> + <p> + As Dawkins beheld him entering with Paul, he turned up his nose in disgust + at what he considered Paul's friend. + </p> + <p> + What was his consternation when the visitor, approaching him with a + benignant smile, extended his brown hand, and said, “How d'ye do, George? + How are ye all to hum?” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins drew back haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” he said, pale with passion. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Dawkins,” said Paul, with suppressed merriment, “allow me to + introduce your cousin, Mr. Stubbs.” + </p> + <p> + “Jehoshaphat Stubbs,” explained that individual. “Didn't your father never + mention my name to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Dawkins, darting a furious glance at Paul, “you are entirely + mistaken if you suppose that any relationship exists between me and that—person.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it's you that are mistaken,” said Mr. Stubbs, persevering, “My mother + was Roxana Jane Dawkins. She was own sister to your grandfather. That + makes me and your father cousins Don't you see?” + </p> + <p> + “I see that you are intending to insult me,” said Dawkins, the more + furiously, because he began to fear there might be some truth in the man's + claims. “Mr. Prescott, I leave you to entertain your company yourself.” + </p> + <p> + And he threw on his hat and dashed out of the counting-room. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the pedler, drawing a long breath, “that's cool,—denyin' + his own flesh and blood. Rather stuck up, ain't he?” + </p> + <p> + “He is, somewhat,” said Paul; “if I were you, I shouldn't be disposed to + own him as a relation.” + </p> + <p> + “Darned ef I will!” said Jehoshaphat sturdily; “I have some pride, ef I am + a pedler. Guess I'm as good as he, any day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVII. + </h2> + <h3> + MR. MUDGE'S FRIGHT. + </h3> + <p> + Squire Newcome sat in a high-backed chair before the fire with his heels + on the fender. He was engaged in solemnly perusing the leading editorial + in the evening paper, when all at once the table at his side gave a sudden + lurch, the lamp slid into his lap, setting the paper on fire, and, before + the Squire realized his situation, the flames singed his whiskers, and + made his face unpleasantly warm. + </p> + <p> + “Cre-a-tion!” he exclaimed, jumping briskly to his feet. + </p> + <p> + The lamp had gone out, so that the cause of the accident remained involved + in mystery. The Squire had little trouble in conjecturing, however, that + Ben was at the bottom of it. + </p> + <p> + Opening the door hastily, he saw, by the light in the next room, that + young gentleman rising from his knees in the immediate vicinity of the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Ben-ja-min,” said the Squire, sternly, + </p> + <p> + “What have you been a-doing?” + </p> + <p> + Ben looked sheepish, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I repeat, Benjamin, what have you been a-doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to,” said Ben. + </p> + <p> + “That does not answer my interrogatory. What have you been a-doing?” + </p> + <p> + “I was chasing the cat,” said Ben, “and she got under the table. I went + after her, and somehow it upset. Guess my head might have knocked against + the legs.” + </p> + <p> + “How old are you, Benjamin?” + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen.” + </p> + <p> + “A boy of fifteen is too old to play with cats. You may retire to your + dormitory.” + </p> + <p> + “It's only seven o'clock, father,” said Ben, in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Boys that play with cats are young enough to retire at seven,” remarked + the Squire, sagaciously. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing for Ben but to obey. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly with reluctant steps he went up to his chamber and went to + bed. His active mind, together with the early hour, prevented his + sleeping. Instead, his fertile imagination was employed in devising some + new scheme, in which, of course, fun was to be the object attained. While + he was thinking, one scheme flashed upon him which he at once pronounced + “bully.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could do it to-night,” he sighed. + </p> + <p> + “Why can't I?” he thought, after a moment's reflection. + </p> + <p> + The more he thought of it, the more feasible it seemed, and at length he + decided to attempt it. + </p> + <p> + Rising from his bed he quickly dressed himself, and then carefully took + the sheet, and folding it up in small compass put it under his arm. + </p> + <p> + Next, opening the window, he stepped out upon the sloping roof of the ell + part, and slid down to the end where he jumped off, the height not being + more than four feet from the ground. By some accident, a tub of suds was + standing under the eaves, and Ben, much to his disgust, jumped into it. + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” exclaimed he, “I've jumped into that plaguy tub. What possessed + Hannah to put it in a fellow's way?” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the back door opened, and Hannah called out, in a shrill + voice, “Who's there?” Ben hastily hid himself, and thought it best not to + answer. + </p> + <p> + “I guess 'twas the cat,” said Hannah, as she closed the door. + </p> + <p> + “A two-legged cat,” thought Ben, to himself; “thunder, what sopping wet + feet I've got. Well, it can't be helped.” + </p> + <p> + With the sheet still under his arm, Ben climbed a fence and running across + the fields reached the fork of the road. Here he concealed himself under a + hedge, and waited silently till the opportunity for playing his practical + joke arrived. + </p> + <p> + I regret to say that Mr. Mudge, with whom we have already had considerable + to do, was not a member of the temperance society. Latterly, influenced + perhaps by Mrs. Mudge's tongue, which made his home far from a happy one, + he had got into the habit of spending his evenings at the tavern in the + village, where he occasionally indulged in potations that were not good + for him. Generally, he kept within the bounds of moderation, but + occasionally he exceeded these, as he had done on the present occasion. + </p> + <p> + Some fifteen minutes after Ben had taken his station, he saw, in the + moonlight, Mr. Mudge coming up the road, on his way home. Judging from his + zigzag course, he was not quite himself. + </p> + <p> + Ben waited till Mr. Mudge was close at hand, when all at once he started + from his place of concealment completely enveloped in the sheet with which + he was provided. He stood motionless before the astounded Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” exclaimed Mudge, his knees knocking together in terror, + clinging to an overhanging branch for support. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” he again asked in affright. + </p> + <p> + “Sally Baker,” returned Ben, in as sepulchral a voice as he could command. + </p> + <p> + Sally Baker was an old pauper, who had recently died. The name occurred to + Ben on the spur of the moment. It was with some difficulty that he + succeeded in getting out the name, such was his amusement at Mr. Mudge's + evident terror. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want of me?” inquired Mudge, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “You half starved me when I was alive,” returned Ben, in a hollow voice, + “I must be revenged.” + </p> + <p> + So saying he took one step forward, spreading out his arms. This was too + much for Mr. Mudge. With a cry he started and ran towards home at the top + of his speed, with Ben in pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I shall die of laughing,” exclaimed Ben, pausing out of breath, + and sitting down on a stone, “what a donkey he is, to be sure, to think + there are such things as ghosts. I'd like to be by when he tells Mrs. + Mudge.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment's thought, Ben wrapped up the sheet, took it under his arm, + and once more ran in pursuit of Mr. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Mrs. Mudge was sitting in the kitchen of the Poorhouse, mending + stockings. She was not in the pleasantest humor, for one of the paupers + had managed to break a plate at tea-table (if that can be called tea where + no tea is provided), and trifles were sufficient to ruffle Mrs. Mudge's + temper. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Mudge, I wonder?” she said, sharply; “over to the tavern, I + s'pose, as usual. There never was such a shiftless, good-for-nothing man. + I'd better have stayed unmarried all the days of my life than have married + him. If he don't get in by ten, I'll lock the door, and it shall stay + locked. 'Twill serve him right to stay out doors all night.” + </p> + <p> + Minutes slipped away, and the decisive hour approached. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go to the door and look out,” thought Mrs. Mudge, “if he ain't + anywhere in sight I'll fasten the door.” + </p> + <p> + She laid down her work and went to the door. + </p> + <p> + She had not quite reached it when it was flung open violently, and Mr. + Mudge, with a wild, disordered look, rushed in, nearly overturning his + wife, who gazed at him with mingled anger and astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by this foolery, Mudge?” she demanded, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “What do I mean?” repeated her husband, vaguely. + </p> + <p> + “I needn't ask you,” said his wife, contemptuously. “I see how it is, well + enough. You're drunk!” + </p> + <p> + “Drunk!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, drunk; as drunk as a beast.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Mudge,” hiccoughed her husband, in what he endeavored to make + a dignified tone, “you'd be drunk too if you'd seen what I've seen.” + </p> + <p> + “And what have you seen, I should like to know?” said Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + Mudge rose with some difficulty, steadied himself on his feet, and + approaching his wife, whispered in a tragic tone, “Mrs. Mudge, I've seen a + sperrit.” + </p> + <p> + “It's plain enough that you've seen spirit,” retorted his wife. “'Tisn't + many nights that you don't, for that matter. You ought to be ashamed of + yourself, Mudge.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't that,” said her husband, shaking his hand, “it's a sperrit,—a + ghost, that I've seen.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Mrs. Mudge, sarcastically, “perhaps you can tell whose it + is.” + </p> + <p> + “It was the sperrit of Sally Baker,” said Mudge, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “What did she say?” demanded Mrs. Mudge, a little curiously. + </p> + <p> + “She said that I—that we, half starved her, and then she started to + run after me—and—oh, Lordy, there she is now!” + </p> + <p> + Mudge jumped trembling to his feet. Following the direction of his + outstretched finger, Mrs. Mudge caught a glimpse of a white figure just + before the window. I need hardly say that it was Ben, who had just arrived + upon the scene. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge was at first stupefied by what she saw, but being a woman of + courage she speedily recovered herself, and seizing the broom from behind + the door, darted out in search of the “spirit.” But Ben, perceiving that + he was discovered, had disappeared, and there was nothing to be seen. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell you so?” muttered Mudge, as his wife re-entered, baffled in + her attempt, “you'll believe it's a sperrit, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to bed, you fool!” retorted his wife. + </p> + <p> + This was all that passed between Mr. and Mrs. Mudge on the subject. Mr. + Mudge firmly believes, to this day, that the figure which appeared to him + was the spirit of Sally Baker. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVIII. + </h2> + <h3> + HOW BEN GOT HOME. + </h3> + <p> + Delighted with the complete success of his practical joke, Ben took his + way homeward with the sheet under his arm. By the time he reached his + father's house it was ten o'clock. The question for Ben to consider now + was, how to get in. If his father had not fastened the front door he might + steal in, and slip up stairs on tiptoe without being heard. This would be + the easiest way of overcoming the difficulty, and Ben, perceiving that the + light was still burning in the sitting-room, had some hopes that he would + be able to adopt it. But while he was only a couple of rods distant he saw + the lamp taken up by his father, who appeared to be moving from the room. + </p> + <p> + “He's going to lock the front door,” thought Ben, in disappointment; “if I + had only got along five minutes sooner.” + </p> + <p> + From his post outside he heard the key turn in the lock. + </p> + <p> + The 'Squire little dreamed that the son whom he imagined fast asleep in + his room was just outside the door he was locking. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I'll go round to the back part of the house,” thought Ben, + “perhaps I can get in the same way I came out.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly he went round and managed to clamber upon the roof, which was + only four feet from the ground. But a brief trial served to convince our + young adventurer that it is a good deal easier sliding down a roof than it + is climbing up. The shingles being old were slippery, and though the + ascent was not steep, Ben found the progress he made was very much like + that of a man at the bottom of a well, who is reported as falling back two + feet for every three that he ascended. What increased the difficulty of + his attempt was that the soles of his shoes were well worn, and slippery + as well as the shingles. + </p> + <p> + “I never can get up this way,” Ben concluded, after several fruitless + attempts; “I know what I'll do,” he decided, after a moment's perplexity; + “I'll pull off my shoes and stockings, and then I guess I can get along + better.” + </p> + <p> + Ben accordingly got down from the roof, and pulled off his shoes and + stockings. As he wanted to carry these with him, he was at first a little + puzzled by this new difficulty. He finally tied the shoes together by the + strings and hung them round his neck. He disposed of the stockings by + stuffing one in each pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” thought Ben, “I guess I can get along better. I don't know what to + do with the plaguy sheet, though.” + </p> + <p> + But necessity is the mother of invention, and Ben found that he could + throw the sheet over his shoulders, as a lady does with her shawl. Thus + accoutered he recommenced the ascent with considerable confidence. + </p> + <p> + He found that his bare feet clung to the roof more tenaciously than the + shoes had done, and success was already within his grasp, when an + unforeseen mishap frustrated his plans. He had accomplished about three + quarters of the ascent when all at once the string which united the shoes + which he had hung round his neck gave way, and both fell with a great + thump on the roof. Ben made a clutch for them in which he lost his own + hold, and made a hurried descent in their company, alighting with his bare + feet on some flinty gravel stones, which he found by no means agreeable. + </p> + <p> + “Ow!” ejaculated Ben, limping painfully, “them plaguy gravel stones hurt + like thunder. I'll move 'em away the first thing to-morrow. If that + confounded shoe-string hadn't broken I'd have been in bed by this time.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Hannah had been sitting over the kitchen fire enjoying a social + chat with a “cousin” of hers from Ireland, a young man whom she had never + seen or heard of three months before. In what way he had succeeded in + convincing her of the relationship I have never been able to learn, but he + had managed to place himself on familiar visiting terms with the inmate of + 'Squire Newcome's kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “It's only me cousin, sir,” Hannah explained to the 'Squire, when he had + questioned her on the subject; “he's just from Ireland, sir, and it seems + like home to see him.” + </p> + <p> + On the present occasion Tim Flaherty had outstayed his usual time, and was + still in the kitchen when Ben reached home. They did not at first hear + him, but when he made his last abortive attempt, and the shoes came + clattering down, they could not help hearing. + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” asked Hannah, listening attentively. + </p> + <p> + She went to the door to look out, her cousin following. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing to be seen. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you was dramin' Hannah,” said Tim, “more by token, it's time we + was both doin' that same, so I'll bid you good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Come again soon, Tim,” said Hannah, preparing to close the door. + </p> + <p> + A new plan of entrance flashed upon Ben. + </p> + <p> + He quickly put on his shoes and stockings, unfolded the sheet and prepared + to enact the part of a ghost once more,—this time for the special + benefit of Hannah. + </p> + <p> + After fully attiring himself he came to the back door which Hannah had + already locked, and tapped three times. + </p> + <p> + Hannah was engaged in raking out the kitchen fire. + </p> + <p> + “Sure it's Tim come back,” thought she, as she went to the door. “Perhaps + he's forgotten something.” + </p> + <p> + She opened the door unsuspiciously, fully expecting to see her Irish + cousin standing before her. + </p> + <p> + What was her terror on beholding a white-robed figure, with extended arms. + </p> + <p> + “Howly virgin, defend me!” she exclaimed, in paralyzing terror, which was + increased by a guttural sound which proceeded from the throat of the + ghost, who at the same time waved his arms aloft, and made a step towards + Hannah. + </p> + <p> + Hannah, with a wild howl dropped the lamp and fed towards the + sitting-room, where 'Squire Newcome was still sitting. + </p> + <p> + Ben sped upstairs at the top of his speed, dashed into his own chamber, + spread the sheet on the bed, and undressed so rapidly that he seemed only + to shake his clothes off, and jumped into bed. He closed his eyes and + appeared to be in a profound slumber. + </p> + <p> + Hannah's sudden appearance in the sitting-room in such a state naturally + astonished the 'Squire. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” he demanded of the affrighted servant. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” she gasped, “I'm almost kilt entirely.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you?” said the 'Squire, “you appear to be more frightened than hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, shure I am frightened, which indeed I couldn't help it, sir, + for I never saw a ghost before in all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “A ghost! What nonsense are you talking, Hannah?” + </p> + <p> + “Shure it's not nonsense, for it's just now that the ghost came to the + door, sir, and knocked, and I went to the door thinking it might be me + cousin, who's been passing the evening with me, when I saw a great white + ghost, ten foot tall, standing forninst me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten feet tall?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and he spread out his arms and spoke in a terrible voice, and + was going to carry me off wid him, but I dropped the lamp, and O sir, I'm + kilt entirely.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a strange story,” said 'Squire Newcome, rather suspiciously; “I + hope you have not been drinking.” + </p> + <p> + Hannah protested vehemently that not a drop of liquor had passed her lips, + which was true. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go out and hunt for the ghost,” said the 'Squire. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't sir. He'll carry you off,” said Hannah, terrified. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” exclaimed the 'Squire. “Follow me, or you may stay here if you + are frightened.” + </p> + <p> + This Hannah would by no means do, since the 'Squire had taken the lamp and + she would be left in the dark. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly she followed him with a trembling step, as he penetrated + through the kitchen into the back room, ready to run at the least alarm. + </p> + <p> + The back-door was wide open, but nothing was to be seen of the ghost. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps the ghost's up-stairs,” said Hannah, “I can't sleep up there this + night, shure.” + </p> + <p> + But something had attracted Squire Newcome's attention. It was quite muddy + out of doors, and Ben had tracked in considerable mud with him. The + footprints were very perceptible on the painted floor. + </p> + <p> + “The ghost seems to have had muddy shoes,” said the 'Squire dryly; “I + guess I can find him.” + </p> + <p> + He followed the tracks which witnessed so strongly against Ben, to whose + chamber they led. + </p> + <p> + Ben, though still awake, appeared to be in a profound slumber. + </p> + <p> + “Ben-ja-min!” said his father, stooping over the bed. + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Ben-ja-min!” repeated his father, giving him a shake, “what does all this + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” inquired Ben, opening his eyes, and looking very innocent. + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been, to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “You sent me to bed,” said Ben, “and I came.” + </p> + <p> + But the 'Squire was not to be deceived. He was already in possession of + too much information to be put off. So Ben, who with all his love of + mischief was a boy of truth, finally owned up everything. His father said + very little, but told him the next morning that he had made up his mind to + send him to a military boarding-school, where the discipline was very + strict. Ben hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry, but finally, as boys + like change and variety, came to look upon his new prospects with + considerable cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIX. + </h2> + <h3> + DAWKINS IN DIFFICULTIES. + </h3> + <p> + George Dawkins was standing at his desk one morning, when a man entered + the office, and stepping up to him, unceremoniously tapped him on the + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins turned. He looked extremely annoyed on perceiving his visitor, + whose outward appearance was certainly far from prepossessing. His face + exhibited unmistakable marks of dissipation, nor did the huge breast pin + and other cheap finery which he wore conceal the fact of his intense + vulgarity. His eyes were black and twinkling, his complexion very dark, + and his air that of a foreigner. He was, in fact, a Frenchman, though his + language would hardly have betrayed him, unless, as sometimes, he chose to + interlard his discourse with French phrases. + </p> + <p> + “How are you this morning, my friend?” said the newcomer. + </p> + <p> + “What are you here for?” asked Dawkins, roughly. + </p> + <p> + “That does not seem to me a very polite way of receiving your friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Friends!” retorted Dawkins, scornfully, “who authorized you to call + yourself my friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Creditor, then, if it will suit you better, mon ami.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” said Dawkins, in an alarmed whisper, “he will hear,” here he + indicated Paul with his finger. + </p> + <p> + “And why should I care? I have no secrets from the young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Duval,” exclaimed Dawkins, in an angry whisper, “Leave the office + at once. Your appearing here will injure me.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not your friend; why should I care?” sneered Duval. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to reason. Leave me now, and I will meet you when and where you + will.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, that sounds better.” + </p> + <p> + “Now go. I'm afraid Mr. Danforth will be in.” + </p> + <p> + “If he comes, introduce me.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins would like to have knocked the fellow over. + </p> + <p> + “Name your place and time, and be quick about it,” said he impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Eight o'clock this evening, you know where,” was the answer. + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Mind you bring some money.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” returned Dawkins, angrily. + </p> + <p> + At length, much to his relief, Duval left the office. Dawkins stole a side + glance at Paul, to see what impression the interview had made upon him, + but our hero, who had overheard some portions of the dialogue, perceiving + that Dawkins wished it to be private, took as little notice of the visitor + as possible. He could not help thinking, however, that Duval was a man + whose acquaintance was likely to be of little benefit to his fellow clerk. + </p> + <p> + Throughout the day Dawkins appeared unusually nervous, and made several + blunders which annoyed Mr. Danforth. Evidently he had something on his + mind. Not to keep the reader in suspense, George had fallen among bad + companions, where he had learned both to drink and to gamble. In this way + he had made the acquaintance of Duval, an unscrupulous sharper, who had + contrived to get away all his ready money, and persuading him to play + longer in the hope of making up his losses had run him into debt one + hundred and fifty dollars. Dawkins gave him an acknowledgment of + indebtedness to that amount. This of course placed him in Duval's power, + since he knew of no means of raising such a sum. He therefore kept out of + the Frenchman's way, avoiding the old haunts where he would have been + likely to meet him. Dawkins supposed Duval ignorant of the whereabouts of + his employer's counting-room. So he had been, but he made it his business + to ascertain where it was. He had no idea of losing sight of so valuable a + prize. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins would willingly have broken the appointment he had made with + Duval, but he did not dare to do so. He knew that the man was well able to + annoy him, and he would not on any account have had the affair disclosed + to his father or Mr. Danforth. + </p> + <p> + As Trinity clock struck eight, he entered a low bar-room in the + neighborhood of the docks. + </p> + <p> + A young man with pale, sandy hair stood behind the counter with his + sleeves rolled up. He was supplying the wants of a sailor who already + appeared to have taken more drink than was good for him. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Mr. Dawkins,” said he, “you're a stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “Is Duval in?” inquired Dawkins, coldly. His pride revolted at the place + and company. He had never been here but once before, having met Duval + elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + “He's up in his room. John show the young gentleman up to No. 9. Won't you + have a glass of something this evening?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Dawkins, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + The boy preceded him up a dark and dirty staircase. + </p> + <p> + “That's the room, sir,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Stop a minute,” said Dawkins, “he may not be in.” + </p> + <p> + He inwardly hoped he might not. But Duval answered his knock by coming to + the door himself. + </p> + <p> + “Delighted to see you, mon ami. John, may leave the lamp. That's all, + unless Mr. Dawkins wishes to order something.” + </p> + <p> + “I want nothing,” said Dawkins. + </p> + <p> + “They have some capital brandy.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not in the mood for drinking tonight.” + </p> + <p> + “As you please,” said the Frenchman, disappointed; “be seated.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins sat down in a wooden rocking-chair, minus an arm. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Duval, “how much money have you brought me?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman frowned and stroked his mustache, fiercely. + </p> + <p> + “What does all this mean? Are you going to put me off longer?” + </p> + <p> + “I would pay it if I could,” said Dawkins, “but I haven't got the money.” + </p> + <p> + “You could get it.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask your father.” + </p> + <p> + “My father would rave if he knew that I had lost money in such a way.” + </p> + <p> + “But you need not tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “If I ask for money, he will be sure to ask what I want it for.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him you want clothes, or a watch, or a hundred things.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins shook his head; “it won't do,” said he. “He wouldn't give me a + hundred and fifty dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Then ask seventy-five, and I will wait a month for the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Duval, you have no rightful claim to this money. You've got + enough out of me. Just tear up the paper.” + </p> + <p> + Duval laughed scornfully, “Aha, Mr. Dawkins,” he said, “that would be a + very pretty arrangement FOR YOU. But I don't see how it is going to + benefit me. No, no, I can't afford to throw away a hundred and fifty + dollars so easily. If I was a rich man like your father it would make a + difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't remit the debt,” said Dawkins, sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “You would think me a great ninny, if I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you may collect it the best way you can.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” demanded the Frenchman, his face darkening. + </p> + <p> + “I mean what I say,” said Dawkins, desperately, “Gambling debts are not + recognizable in law.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing is said about it's being a gambling debt. I have your note.” + </p> + <p> + “Which is worth nothing, since I am a minor.” + </p> + <p> + Duval's face became black with rage. + </p> + <p> + “Aha, my friend,” said he showing his teeth, “this is a very nice game to + cheat me out of my money. But it won't do, it won't do.” + </p> + <p> + “Why won't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall say a word in your father's ear, mon ami, and in the ear of your + worthy employer whom you were so anxious for me not to see, and perhaps + that would be worse for you than to pay me my money.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins's brief exultation passed away. He saw that he was indeed in the + power of an unscrupulous man, who was disposed to push his advantage to + the utmost. + </p> + <p> + He subsided into a moody silence, which Duval watched with satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my friend, what will you do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what I can do.” + </p> + <p> + “You will think of something. You will find it best,” said the Frenchman, + in a tone which veiled a threat. + </p> + <p> + “I will try,” said Dawkins, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “That is well. I thought you would listen to reason, mon ami. Now we will + have a pleasant chat. Hold, I will order some brandy myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Not for me,” said Dawkins, rising from his chair, “I must be going.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not have one little game?” asked Duval, coaxingly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, I have had enough of that. Goodnight.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you won't stop. And when shall I have the pleasure of seeing you at + my little apartment once more?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is any trouble to you to come, I will call at your office,” said + Duval, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't trouble yourself,” said Dawkins, hastily; “I will come here a week + from today.” + </p> + <p> + “A week is a long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Long or short, I must have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, mon ami. A week let it be. Good-night. Mind the stairs as you + go down.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins breathed more freely as he passed out into the open air. He was + beginning to realize that the way of the transgressor is hard. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXX. + </h2> + <h3> + A TRAP IS LAID FOR PAUL. + </h3> + <p> + Three months before, George Dawkins had made his first visit to a gambling + house. At first, he had entered only from curiosity. He watched the play + with an interest which gradually deepened, until he was easily persuaded + to try his own luck. The stakes were small, but fortune favored him, and + he came out some dollars richer than he entered. It would have been + fortunate for him if he had failed. As it was, his good fortune encouraged + him to another visit. This time he was less fortunate, but his gains about + balanced his losses, so that he came out even. On the next occasion he + left off with empty pockets. So it went on until at length he fell into + the hands of Duval, who had no scruple in fleecing him to as great an + extent as he could be induced to go. + </p> + <p> + George Dawkins's reflections were not of the most cheerful character as, + leaving Duval, he slowly pursued his way homeward. He felt that he had + fallen into the power of an unscrupulous villain, who would have no mercy + upon him. He execrated his own folly, without which all the machination of + Duval would have been without effect. + </p> + <p> + The question now, however, was, to raise the money. He knew of no one to + whom he could apply except his father, nor did he have much hope from that + quarter. Still, he would make the effort. + </p> + <p> + Reaching home he found his father seated in the library. He looked up from + the evening paper as George entered. + </p> + <p> + “Only half-past nine,” he said, with an air of sarcasm. “You spend your + evenings out so systematically that your early return surprises me. How is + it? Has the theater begun to lose its charm!” + </p> + <p> + There was no great sympathy between father and son, and if either felt + affection for the other, it was never manifested. Mutual recrimination was + the rule between them, and George would now have made an angry answer but + that he had a favor to ask, and felt it politic to be conciliatory. + </p> + <p> + “If I had supposed you cared for my society, sir, I would have remained at + home oftener.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” was the only reply elicited from his father. + </p> + <p> + “However, there was a good reason for my not going to the theater + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “I had no money.” + </p> + <p> + “Your explanation is quite satisfactory,” said his father, with a slight + sneer. “I sympathize in your disappointment.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no occasion, sir,” said George, good humoredly, for him. “I had + no great desire to go.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins took down a book from the library and tried to read, but without + much success. His thoughts continually recurred to his pecuniary + embarrassments, and the debt which he owed to Duval seemed to hang like a + millstone around his neck. How should he approach his father on the + subject? In his present humor he feared he would have little chance. + </p> + <p> + As his father laid down the newspaper Dawkins said, “Wouldn't you like a + game of checkers, sir?” + </p> + <p> + This, as he well knew, was a favorite game with his father. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know but I should,” said Mr. Dawkins, more graciously than was + his wont. + </p> + <p> + The checker-board was brought, and the two commenced playing. Three games + were played all of which his father won. This appeared to put him in a + good humor, for as the two ceased playing, he drew a ten-dollar-bill from + his pocket-book, and handed to his son, with the remark, “There, George, I + don't want you to be penniless. You are a little extravagant, though, I + think. Your pay from Mr. Danforth ought to keep you in spending money.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I have been rather extravagant, but I am going to reform.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish, sir,” said George a moment afterwards, “that you would allow me + to buy my own clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “I've no sort of an objection, I am sure. You select them now, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, but I mean to suggest that you should make me an allowance for + that purpose,—about as much as it costs now,—and give me the + money to spend where I please.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Dawkins looked sharply at his son. + </p> + <p> + “The result would probably be,” he said, “that the money would be expended + in other ways, and I should have to pay for the clothes twice over.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins would have indignantly disclaimed this, if he had not felt that he + was not altogether sincere in the request he had made. + </p> + <p> + “No,” continued his father, “I don't like the arrangement you propose. + When you need clothing you can go to my tailor and order it, of course not + exceeding reasonable limits.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Dawkins, desperately, “I don't like Bradshaw's style of making + clothes. I would prefer trying some other tailor.” + </p> + <p> + “What fault have you to find with Bradshaw? Is he not one of the most + fashionable tailors in the city?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I suppose so, but——” + </p> + <p> + “Come, sir, you are growing altogether too particular. All your garments + set well, so far as I can judge.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, but one likes a change sometimes,” persisted George, a little + embarrassed for further objections. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Dawkins, after a pause, “If you are so strongly bent upon + a new tailor, select one, and order what you need. You can tell him to + send in his bill to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you sir,” said his son, by no means pleased at the manner in which + his request had been granted. He saw that it would in no manner promote + the plan which he had in view, since it would give him no command of the + ready money. It is hardly necessary to say that his alleged + dissatisfaction with his father's tailor had all been trumped up for the + occasion, and would never have been thought of but for the present + emergency. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do!” thought Dawkins, in perplexity, as he slowly undressed + himself and retired to bed. + </p> + <p> + The only true course, undoubtedly, was to confess all to his father, to + incur the storm of reproaches which would have followed as the just + penalty of his transgression, and then the haunting fear of discovery + would have been once and forever removed. But Dawkins was not brave enough + for this. He thought only of escaping from his present difficulty without + his father's knowledge. + </p> + <p> + He rose the next morning with the burden of care still weighing upon him. + In the evening the thought occurred to him that he might retrieve his + losses where he had incurred them, and again he bent his steps to the + gambling house. He risked five dollars, being one-half of what he had. + This was lost. Desperately he hazarded the remaining five dollars, and + lost again. + </p> + <p> + With a muttered oath he sprang to his feet, and left the brilliant room, + more gloomy and discouraged than ever. He was as badly off as before, and + penniless beside. He would have finished the evening at the theater, but + his recent loss prevented that. He lounged about the streets till it was + time to go to bed, and then went home in a very unsatisfactory state of + mind. + </p> + <p> + A day or two after, he met on Broadway the man whom of all others he would + gladly have avoided. + </p> + <p> + “Aha, my friend, I am glad to meet you,” said Duval, for it was he. + </p> + <p> + Dawkins muttered something unintelligible, and would have hurried on, but + Duval detained him. + </p> + <p> + “Why are you in such a hurry, my friend?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Business,” returned Dawkins, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “That reminds me of the little business affair between us, mon ami. Have + you got any money for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet! It is three days since we saw each other. Could you not do + something in three days?” + </p> + <p> + “I told you I required a week,” said Dawkins, roughly, “Let go my arm. I + tell you I am in haste.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, mon ami,” said Duval, slowly relinquishing his hold, “take + care that you do not forget. There are four days more to the week.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins hurried on feeling very uncomfortable. He was quite aware that + four days hence he would be as unprepared to encounter the Frenchman as + now. Still, something might happen. + </p> + <p> + Something, unfortunately, did happen. + </p> + <p> + The next day Mr. Danforth was counting a roll of bills which had been just + paid in, when he was unexpectedly called out of the counting-room. He + unguardedly left the bills upon his own desk. Dawkins saw them lying + there. The thought flashed upon him, “There lies what will relieve me from + all my embarrassment.” + </p> + <p> + Allowing himself scarcely a minute to think, he took from the roll four + fifty dollar notes, thrust one into the pocket of Paul's overcoat, which + hung up in the office, drew off his right boot and slipped the other three + into the bottom of it, and put it on again. He then nervously resumed his + place at his desk. A moment afterwards, Paul, who had been to the + post-office, entered with letters which he carried into the inner office + and deposited on Mr. Danforth's desk. He observed the roll of bills, and + thought his employer careless in leaving so much money exposed, but said + nothing on the subject to Dawkins, between whom and himself there was + little communication. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXI. + </h2> + <h3> + CONVICTED OF THEFT. + </h3> + <p> + Half an hour later Mr. Danforth returned. + </p> + <p> + “Has any one been here?” he asked as he passed through the outer office. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Dawkins, with outward composure though his heart was + beating rapidly. + </p> + <p> + While apparently intent upon his writing he listened attentively to what + might be going on in the next room. One,—two,—three minutes + passed. Mr. Danforth again showed himself. + </p> + <p> + “Did you say that no one has been here?” he demanded, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Have either of you been into my office since I have been out?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not, sir,” said Dawkins. + </p> + <p> + “I went in to carry your letters,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Did you see a roll of bills lying on my desk?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Paul, a little surprised at the question. + </p> + <p> + “I have just counted it over, and find but six hundred dollars instead of + eight hundred. Can you account for the discrepancy?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth looked keenly at the two boys. Dawkins, who had schooled + himself to the ordeal, maintained his outward calmness. Paul, beginning to + perceive that his honesty was called in question, flushed. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said the boys simultaneously. + </p> + <p> + “It can hardly be possible, that Mr. Thompson, who is a very careful man, + should have made such a mistake in paying me,” resumed Mr. Danforth. + </p> + <p> + “As we have been the only persons here,” said Dawkins, “the only way to + vindicate ourselves from suspicion is, to submit to a search.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Paul promptly. + </p> + <p> + Both boys turned their pockets inside out, but the missing money was not + found. + </p> + <p> + “There is my overcoat, sir,” said Dawkins, “will you be kind enough to + search it for yourself?” + </p> + <p> + Next, of course, Paul's overcoat was searched. + </p> + <p> + What was our hero's dismay when from one of the pockets Mr. Danforth + produced a fifty dollar bill. + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible?” he exclaimed in as much grief as surprise, “Unhappy boy, + how came you by this money in your pocket?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir,” returned Paul, his cheek alternately flushing and + growing pale. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could believe you,” said Mr. Danforth; “where have you put the + other bills? Produce them, and I may overlook this first offense.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir,” said Paul, in great distress, “I have not the slightest + knowledge of how this bill came into my pocket. I hope you will believe + me, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “How can I? The money evidently did not go into your pocket without + hands.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden thought came to Paul. “Dawkins,” said he, “did you put that money + into my pocket?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, sir?” returned Dawkins, haughtily. “Is it your + intention to insult me?” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins could not prevent his face from flushing as he spoke, but this + might easily be referred to a natural resentment of the imputation cast + upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Paul,” said his employer, coldly, “you will not help your own cause by + seeking to involve another. After what has happened you can hardly expect + me to retain you in my employment. I will not make public your disgrace, + nor will I inquire farther for the remainder of the money for which you + have been willing to barter your integrity. I will pay your wages up to + the end of this week, and——” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Danforth,” said Paul, manfully, though the tears almost choked his + utterance, “I am sorry that you have no better opinion of me. I do not + want the balance of my wages. If I have taken so large a sum which did not + belong to me, I have no claim to them. Good-morning, sir. Sometime I hope + you will think better of me.” + </p> + <p> + Paul put on his coat, and taking his cap from the nail on which it hung, + bowed respectfully to his employer and left the office. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth looked after him, and seemed perplexed. Could Paul be guilty + after all? + </p> + <p> + “I never could have suspected him if I had not this evidence in my hand,” + said Mr. Danforth, to himself, fixing his eyes upon the bill which he had + drawn from Paul's overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “Dawkins, did you observe whether Paul remained long in the office?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Longer than sufficient to lay the letters on the desk?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I think he did.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you notice whether he went to his overcoat after coming out?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, he did,” said Dawkins, anxious to fix in Mr. Danforth's mind + the impression of Paul's guilt. + </p> + <p> + “Then I am afraid it is true,” said his employer sadly. “And yet, what a + fine, manly boy he is too. But it is a terrible fault.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth was essentially a kind-hearted man, and he cared much more + for Paul's dereliction from honesty than for the loss of the money. Going + home early to dinner, he communicated to his wife the unpleasant discovery + which he had made respecting Paul. + </p> + <p> + Now, from the first, Paul had been a great favorite with Mrs. Danforth, + and she scouted at the idea of his dishonesty. + </p> + <p> + “Depend upon it, Mr. Danforth,” she said decisively, “you have done the + boy an injustice. I have some skill in reading faces, and I tell you that + a boy with Paul Prescott's open, frank expression is incapable of such a + crime.” + </p> + <p> + “So I should have said, my dear, but we men learn to be less trustful than + you ladies, who stay at home and take rose-colored views of life. + Unfortunately, we see too much of the dark side of human nature.” + </p> + <p> + “So that you conclude all to be dark.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so bad as that.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all the circumstances, and perhaps a woman's wit may help you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth communicated all the details, with which the reader is + already familiar. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a boy is this Dawkins?” she asked, “Do you like him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not particularly. He does his duties passably well. I took him into my + counting-room to oblige his father.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he is the thief.” + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth I would sooner have suspected him.” + </p> + <p> + “Has he cleared himself from suspicion?” + </p> + <p> + “He was the first to suggest a search.” + </p> + <p> + “Precisely the thing he would have done, if he had placed the bill in + Paul's pocket. Of course he would know that the search must result + favorably for him.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something in that.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, what could have been more foolish, if Paul wished to hide the + money, than to multiply his chances of detection by hiding it in two + different places, especially where one was so obvious as to afford no + concealment at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Admitting this to be true, how am I to arrive at the proof of Paul's + innocence?” + </p> + <p> + “My own opinion is, that George Dawkins has the greater part of the money + stolen. Probably he has taken it for some particular purpose. What it is, + you may learn, perhaps, by watching him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will be guided by your suggestion. Nothing would afford me greater + pleasure than to find that I have been mistaken in assuming Paul's guilt, + though on evidence that seemed convincing.” + </p> + <p> + This conversation took place at the dinner-table. Mr. Danforth understood + that no time was to be lost if he expected to gain any information from + the movements of his clerk. + </p> + <p> + George Dawkins had ventured upon a bold act, but he had been apparently + favored by fortune, and had succeeded. That he should have committed this + crime without compunction could hardly be expected. His uneasiness, + however, sprang chiefly from the fear that in some way he might yet be + detected. He resolved to get rid of the money which he had obtained + dishonestly, and obtain back from Duval the acknowledgment of indebtedness + which he had given him. + </p> + <p> + You will perhaps ask whether the wrong which he had done Paul affected him + with uneasiness. On the contrary, it gratified the dislike which from the + first he had cherished towards our hero. + </p> + <p> + “I am well rid of him, at all events,” he muttered to himself, “that is + worth risking some thing for.” + </p> + <p> + When office hours were over Dawkins gladly threw down his pen, and left + the counting-room. + </p> + <p> + He bent his steps rapidly towards the locality where he had before met + Duval. He had decided to wait some time before meeting that worthy. He had + to wait till another day, when as he was emerging from the tavern he + encountered the Frenchman on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Aha, my good friend,” said Duval, offering his hand, which Dawkins did + not appear to see, “I am very glad to see you. Will you come in?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I have not time,” said Dawkins, shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Have you brought me my money?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha, that is well. I was just about what you call cleaned out.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you my note with you?” + </p> + <p> + Duval fumbled in his pocket-book, and finally produced the desired + document. + </p> + <p> + “Give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I must have the money first,” said the Frenchman, shrewdly. + </p> + <p> + “Take it,” said Dawkins contemptuously. “Do you judge me by yourself?” + </p> + <p> + He tore the note which he received into small pieces, and left Duval + without another word. + </p> + <p> + Sheltered by the darkness, Mr. Danforth, who had tracked the steps of + Dawkins, had been an unseen witness of this whole transaction. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXII. + </h2> + <h3> + RIGHT TRIUMPHANT. + </h3> + <p> + George Dawkins resumed his duties the next morning as usual. + Notwithstanding the crime he had committed to screen himself from the + consequences of a lighter fault, he felt immeasurably relieved at the + thought that he had shaken himself free from the clutches of Duval. His + satisfaction was heightened by the disgrace and summary dismissal of Paul, + whom he had never liked. He decided to ask the place for a cousin of his + own, whose society would be more agreeable to him than that of his late + associate. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, sir,” he said, as Mr. Danforth entered. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning,” returned his employer, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Have you selected any one in Prescott's place, yet, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have a cousin, Malcolm Harcourt, who would be glad to take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Mr. Danforth, whose manner somewhat puzzled Dawkins. + </p> + <p> + “I should enjoy having him with me,” continued Dawkins. + </p> + <p> + “Did you like Prescott?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Dawkins, promptly, “I didn't want to say so before, but + now, since he's turned out so badly, I don't mind saying that I never + thought much of him.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” said Mr. Danforth, “I liked him from the first. Perhaps + we are wrong in thinking that he took the money.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think there could be no doubt of it,” said Dawkins, not liking + the sympathy and returning good feeling for Paul which his employer + manifested. + </p> + <p> + “I don't agree with you,” said Mr. Danforth, coldly. “I have decided to + reinstate Paul in his former place.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, if any more money is missing, you will know where it has gone,” + said Dawkins, hastily. + </p> + <p> + “I shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is no chance for my cousin?” + </p> + <p> + “I am expecting to have a vacancy.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins looked up in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I shall require some one to fill YOUR place,” said Mr. Danforth, + significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Sir!” exclaimed Dawkins, in astonishment and dismay. + </p> + <p> + His employer bent a searching glance upon him as he asked, sternly, “where + did you obtain the money which you paid away last evening?” + </p> + <p> + “I—don't—understand—you, sir,” gasped Dawkins, who + understood only too well. + </p> + <p> + “You met a man at the door of a low tavern in—Street, last evening, + to whom you paid one hundred and fifty dollars, precisely the sum which I + lost yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Who has been slandering me, sir?” asked Dawkins, very pale. + </p> + <p> + “An eye-witness of the meeting, who heard the conversation between you. If + you want more satisfactory proof, here it is.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth took from his pocket-book the torn fragments of the note + which Dawkins had given to Duval. + </p> + <p> + “Here is an obligation to pay a certain Duval the sum of one hundred and + fifty dollars. It bears your signature. How you could have incurred such a + debt to him you best know.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins maintained a sullen silence. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you wish me to leave your employment,” he said at length. + </p> + <p> + “You are right. Hold,” he added, as Dawkins was about leaving the room, “a + word more. It is only just that you should make a restitution of the sum + which you have taken. If you belonged to a poor family and there were + extenuating circumstances, I might forego my claim. But your father is + abundantly able to make good the loss, and I shall require you to lay the + matter before him without loss of time. In consideration of your youth, I + shall not bring the matter before the public tribunals, as I have a right + to do.” + </p> + <p> + Dawkins turned pale at this allusion, and muttering some words to the + effect that he would do what he could, left the counting-room. + </p> + <p> + This threat proved not to be without its effect. The next day he came to + Mr. Danforth and brought the sum for which he had become responsible. He + had represented to his father that he had had his pocket picked of this + sum belonging to Mr. Danforth, and in that manner obtained an equal amount + to replace it. It was some time before Mr. Dawkins learned the truth. Then + came a storm of reproaches in which all the bitterness of his father's + nature was fully exhibited. There had never been much love between father + and son. Henceforth there was open hatred. + </p> + <p> + We must return to Paul, whom we left in much trouble. + </p> + <p> + It was a sad walk which he took homeward on the morning of his dismissal. + </p> + <p> + “What brings you home so early?” asked Mrs. Cameron, looking up from her + baking, as Paul entered. + </p> + <p> + Paul tried to explain, but tears came to his eyes, and sobs choked his + utterance. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sick, Paul?” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “No, Aunt Hester.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what is the matter?” she asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I have lost my place.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy! I am very sorry to hear it. But it might have been worse.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not very well, Aunt Hester, for Mr. Danforth thinks I have taken some + of his money.” + </p> + <p> + “He is very unjust!” exclaimed Aunt Hester, indignantly, “he ought to have + known better than to think you would steal.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” said Paul, candidly, “I must confess the evidence was against + me, and he doesn't know me as well as you do, Aunt Hester.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me all about it, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Hester sat down and listened attentively to our hero's story. + </p> + <p> + “How do you account for the money being found in your pocket?” she asked + at length. + </p> + <p> + “I think it must have been put there by some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any suspicions?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Paul, a little reluctantly, “but I don't know whether I ought + to have. I may be wronging an innocent person.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate it won't do any harm to tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “You've heard me speak of George Dawkins?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help thinking that he put the fifty dollars into my pocket, and + took the rest himself.” + </p> + <p> + “How very wicked he must be!” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't judge him too hastily; Aunt Hester, he may not be guilty, and I + know from my own experience how hard it is to be accused when you are + innocent.” + </p> + <p> + Soon after the sexton came in, and Paul of course, told his story over + again. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, Paul,” said Uncle Hugh, cheerily. “You know your own + innocence; that is the main thing. It's a great thing to have a clear + conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “But I liked Mr. Danforth and I think he liked me. It's hard to feel that + he and Mrs. Danforth will both think me guilty, especially after the + kindness which I have experienced from them.” + </p> + <p> + “We all have our crosses, my boy,—some light and others heavy. + Yours, I admit is a heavy one for a boy to bear. But when men are unjust + there is One above who will deal justly with us. You have not forgotten + him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Uncle Hugh,” said Paul, reverently. + </p> + <p> + “Trust in him, Paul, and all will come out right at last. He can prove + your innocence, and you may be sure he will, in his own good time. Only be + patient, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try to be, Uncle Hugh.” + </p> + <p> + The simple, hearty trust in God, which the sexton manifested, was not lost + upon Paul. Sustained by his own consciousness of innocence, and the + confidence reposed in him by those who knew him best, his mind soon + regained its cheerful tone. He felt an inward conviction that God would + vindicate his innocence. + </p> + <p> + His vindication came sooner than he anticipated. + </p> + <p> + The next day as the sexton's family were seated at their plain dinner, a + knock was heard upon the outer door. + </p> + <p> + “Sit still, Hester,” said Mr. Cameron. “I will go to the door.” + </p> + <p> + Opening the door he recognized Mr. Danforth, who attended the same church. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cameron, I believe,” said Mr. Danforth, pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “May I come in? I am here on a little business.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, Mr. Danforth. Excuse my not inviting you before; but in my + surprise at seeing you, I forgot my politeness.” + </p> + <p> + The sexton led the way into the plain sitting-room. + </p> + <p> + “I believe Paul Prescott is an inmate of your family.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I am sorry——” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you would say, sir; but it is needless. May I see Paul a + moment?” + </p> + <p> + Paul was surprised at the summons, and still more surprised at finding who + it was that wished to see him. + </p> + <p> + He entered the room slowly, uncertain how to accost Mr. Danforth. His + employer solved the doubt in his mind by advancing cordially, and taking + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Paul,” he said pleasantly, “I have come here to ask your forgiveness for + an injustice, and to beg you to resume your place in my counting-room.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you found out who took the money, sir?” asked Paul, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “It was Dawkins.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Danforth explained how he had become acquainted with the real thief. + In conclusion, he said, “I shall expect you back to-morrow morning, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Dawkins of course leaves my employ. You will take his place, and receive + his salary, seven dollars a week instead of five. Have you any friend whom + you would like to have in your own place?” + </p> + <p> + Paul reflected a moment and finally named a schoolmate of his, the son of + poor parents, whom he knew to be anxiously seeking a situation, but + without influential friends to help him. + </p> + <p> + “I will take him on your recommendation,” said Mr. Danforth, promptly. + “Can you see him this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + The next day Paul resumed his place in Mr. Danforth's counting-room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIII. + </h2> + <h3> + PAUL REDEEMS HIS PLEDGE. + </h3> + <p> + Two years passed, unmarked by any incident of importance. Paul continued + in Mr. Danforth's employment, giving, if possible, increased satisfaction. + He was not only faithful, but exhibited a rare aptitude for business, + which made his services of great value to his employer. From time to time + Mr. Danforth increased his salary, so that, though only nineteen, he was + now receiving twelve dollars per week, with the prospect of a speedy + increase. But with his increasing salary, he did not increase his + expenses. He continued as economical as ever. He had not forgotten his + father's dying injunction. He remained true to the charge which he had + taken upon himself, that of redeeming his father's memory from reproach. + This, at times subjected him to the imputation of meanness, but for this + he cared little. He would not swerve from the line of duty which he had + marked out. + </p> + <p> + One evening as he was walking down Broadway with an acquaintance, Edward + Hastings, who was employed in a counting-room near him, they paused before + a transparency in front of a hall brilliantly lighted. + </p> + <p> + “The Hutchinsons are going to sing to-night, Paul,” said Hastings. “Did + you ever hear them?” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I have often wished to.” + </p> + <p> + “Then suppose we go in.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I believe not.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not. Paul? It seems to me you never go anywhere. You ought to amuse + yourself now and then.” + </p> + <p> + “Some other time I will,—not now.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not required to be at home in the evening, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why not come in now? It's only twenty-five cents.” + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth, Ned, I am saving up my money for a particular purpose; + and until that is accomplished, I avoid all unnecessary expense.” + </p> + <p> + “Going to invest in a house in Fifth Avenue? When you do, I'll call. + However, never mind the expense. I'll pay you in.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm much obliged to you, Ned, but I can't accept.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because at present I can't afford to return the favor.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do mind it. By-and-by I shall feel more free. Good-night, if you + are going in.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a strange fellow,” mused Hastings. + </p> + <p> + “It's impossible to think him mean, and yet, it looks a great deal like + it. He spends nothing for dress or amusements. I do believe that I've had + three coats since he's been wearing that old brown one. Yet, he always + looks neat. I wonder what he's saving up his money for.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Paul went home. + </p> + <p> + The sexton and his wife looked the same as ever. Paul sometimes fancied + that Uncle Hugh stooped a little more than he used to do; but his life + moved on so placidly and evenly, that he grew old but slowly. Aunt Hester + was the same good, kind, benevolent friend that she had always been. No + mother could have been more devoted to Paul. He felt that he had much to + be grateful for, in his chance meeting with this worthy couple. + </p> + <p> + It was the first of January,—a clear, cold day. A pleasant fire + burned in the little stove. Mr. Cameron sat at one side, reading the + evening paper; Mrs. Cameron at the other, knitting a stocking for Paul. A + large, comfortable-looking cat was dozing tranquilly on the hearth-rug. + Paul, who had been seated at the table, rose and lighted a candle. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going, Paul?” asked Aunt Hester. + </p> + <p> + “Up-stairs for a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Paul speedily returned, bearing in his hand a small blue bank-book, with + his name on the cover. + </p> + <p> + He took out his pencil and figured a few minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Hugh,” said he, looking up, “when I get a hundred dollars more, I + shall have enough to pay father's debt.” + </p> + <p> + “Principal and interest?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, principal and interest; reckoning the interest for a year to come.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not suppose you had so much money, Paul. You must have been very + economical.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Uncle Hugh more so than I have wanted to be, oftentimes; but + whenever I have been tempted to spend a cent unnecessarily, I have always + called to mind my promise made to father on his deathbed, and I have + denied myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You have done well, Paul. There are few who would have had the resolution + to do as you have.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, Uncle Hugh,” said Paul, modestly, “I think there are a great + many. I begin to feel repaid already. In a few months I shall be able to + pay up the whole debt.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment a knock was heard at the door. Mr. Cameron answered the + summons. + </p> + <p> + “Does Mr. Paul Prescott live here?” inquired a boy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Do you want to see him?” + </p> + <p> + “Here is a letter for him. There is no answer.” + </p> + <p> + The messenger departed, leaving the letter in Mr. Cameron's hand. + </p> + <p> + Somewhat surprised, he returned to the sitting-room and handed it to Paul. + </p> + <p> + Paul opened it hastily, and discovered inclosed, a bank-note for one + hundred dollars. It was accompanied with a note from his employer, stating + that it was intended as a New Year's gift, but in the hurry of business, + he had forgotten to give it to him during the day. + </p> + <p> + Paul's face lighted up with joy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Uncle Hugh!” he exclaimed, almost breathless with delight. “Don't you + see that this will enable me to pay my debt at once?” + </p> + <p> + “So it will, Paul. I wish you joy.” + </p> + <p> + “And my father's memory will be vindicated,” said Paul, in a tone of deep + satisfaction. “If he could only have lived to see this day!” + </p> + <p> + A fortnight later, Paul obtained permission from his employer to be absent + from the office for a week. It was his purpose to visit Cedarville and + repay 'Squire Conant the debt due him: and then, to go across the country + to Wrenville, thirty miles distant, to see Aunt Lucy Lee. First, however, + he ordered a new suit of a tailor, feeling a desire to appear to the best + advantage on his return to the scene of his former humiliation. I must not + omit to say that Paul was now a fine-looking young fellow of nineteen, + with a frank, manly face, that won favor wherever he went. + </p> + <p> + In due course of time, he arrived at Cedarville, and found his way without + difficulty to the house of 'Squire Conant. + </p> + <p> + It was a large house, rather imposing in its exterior, being quite the + finest residence in the village. + </p> + <p> + Paul went up the walk, and rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + “Can I see 'Squire Conant?” he asked of the servant who answered the bell. + </p> + <p> + “You'll find him in that room,” said the girl, pointing to a door on the + left hand of the hall. + </p> + <p> + “As he doesn't know me, perhaps you had better go before.” + </p> + <p> + The door was opened, and Paul found himself in the presence of his + father's creditor. 'Squire Conant was looking pale and thin. He was just + recovering from a severe sickness. + </p> + <p> + “I presume you don't recognize me, sir,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “Did I ever see you before?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; my name is Paul Prescott.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the son of John Prescott?” + </p> + <p> + “The same, sir. I believe my father died in your debt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I lent him five hundred dollars, which he never repaid.” + </p> + <p> + “He tried to do so, sir. He had saved up a hundred and fifty dollars + towards it, but sickness came upon him, and he was obliged to use it.” + </p> + <p> + 'Squire Conant's temper had been subdued by the long and dangerous illness + through which he had passed. It had made him set a smaller value on his + earthly possessions, from which he might be separated at any moment. When + he answered Paul, it was in a manner which our hero did not expect. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. I can afford to lose it. I have no doubt he did what he + could.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have come to pay it, sir,” said Paul. + </p> + <p> + “You!” exclaimed 'Squire Conant, in the greatest astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you get the money?” + </p> + <p> + “I earned it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are very young. How could you have earned so much?” + </p> + <p> + Paul frankly told the story of his struggles; how for years he had + practised a pinching economy, in order to redeem his father's memory from + reproach. + </p> + <p> + 'Squire Conant listened attentively. + </p> + <p> + “You are a good boy,” he said, at length. + </p> + <p> + “Shall you have anything left after paying this money?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; but I shall soon earn more.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, you ought to have something to begin the world with. You shall pay + me half the money, and I will cancel the note.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir,——” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word. I am satisfied, and that is enough. If I hadn't lent your + father the money, I might have invested it with the rest, and lost all.” + </p> + <p> + 'Squire Conant produced the note from a little trunk of papers, and handed + it to Paul, who paid him the amount which he had stipulated, expressing at + the same time his gratitude for his unexpected generosity. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about thanks, my boy,” said 'Squire Conant: “I am afraid I + have loved money too well heretofore. I hope I am not too old to turn over + a new leaf.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXIV. + </h2> + <h3> + HOW PAUL GOES BACK TO WRENVILLE. + </h3> + <p> + While 'Squire Conant was speaking, Paul formed a sudden resolution. He + remembered that Aunt Lucy Lee was a sister of 'Squire Conant. Perhaps, in + his present frame of mind, it might be possible to induce him to do + something for her. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I am acquainted with a sister of yours, 'Squire Conant,” he + commenced. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” exclaimed the 'Squire. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Lucy Lee.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” was the slow reply; “she is my sister. Where did you meet her?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Wrenville Poorhouse.” + </p> + <p> + “How long ago?” + </p> + <p> + “About six years since.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she there, still?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. Since I have been in New York, I have heard from her + frequently. I am going from here to visit her. Have you any message, sir? + I am sure she would be glad to hear from you.” + </p> + <p> + “She shall hear from me,” said the 'Squire in a low voice. “Sit down, and + I will write her a letter which, I hope, will not prove unwelcome.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes afterwards he handed Paul an open letter. + </p> + <p> + “You may read it,” he said, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “You have been a better friend to my sister than I. You shall witness my + late reparation.” + </p> + <p> + The letter was as follows:—— + </p> + <p> + CEDARVILLE, JAN 13, 18—. MY DEAR SISTER:— + </p> + <p> + I hope you will forgive me for my long neglect. It is not fitting that + while I am possessed of abundant means you should longer remain the tenant + of an almshouse. I send you by the bearer of this note, Paul Prescott, + who, I understand, is a friend of yours, the sum of three hundred dollars. + The same sum will be sent you annually. I hope it will be sufficient to + maintain you comfortably. I shall endeavor to call upon you soon, and + meanwhile remain, Your affectionate brother, + </p> + <p> + EZEKIEL CONANT. + </p> + <p> + Paul read this letter with grateful joy. It seemed almost to good to be + true. Aunt Lucy would be released from the petty tyranny of Mrs. Mudge's + household, and perhaps—he felt almost sure Aunt Hester would be + willing to receive her as a boarder, thus insuring her a peaceful and + happy home in her declining years. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” said he, seizing 'Squire Conant's hand, “you cannot tell how + happy you have made me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is what I ought to have done before. Here is the money referred to in + the letter,—three hundred dollars,—mind you don't lose it.” + </p> + <p> + “I will take every care, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You may tell my sister that I shall be happy to have her write me.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Paul left 'Squire Conant's house, feeling that he had great cause for joy. + The 'Squire's refusal to receive more than half the debt, left him master + of over three hundred dollars. But I am not sure whether he did not + rejoice even more over the good fortune which had come to Aunt Lucy Lee, + whose kindness to him, in his unfriended boyhood, he would ever hold in + grateful remembrance. He enjoyed in anticipation the joy which he knew + Aunt Lucy would feel when the change in her fortunes was communicated to + her. He knew also how great would be the chagrin of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, + when they found that the meek old lady whom they hated was about to be + rescued from their clutches. On the whole, Paul felt that this was the + happiest day of his life. It was a satisfaction to feel that the good + fortune of his early friend was all due to his own intercession. + </p> + <p> + He was able to take the cars to a point four miles distant from Wrenville. + On getting out on the platform he inquired whether there was a livery + stable near by. He was directed to one but a few rods distant. Entering he + asked, “Can you let me have a horse and chaise to go to Wrenville?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the groom. + </p> + <p> + “Let me have the best horse in the stable,” said Paul, “and charge me + accordingly.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said the groom, respectfully, judging from Paul's dress and + tone that he was a young gentleman of fortune. + </p> + <p> + A spirited animal was brought out, and Paul was soon seated in the chaise + driving along the Wrenville road. Paul's city friends would hardly have + recognized their economical acquaintance in the well-dressed young man who + now sat behind a fast horse, putting him through his best paces. It might + have been a weakness in Paul, but he remembered the manner in which he + left Wrenville, an unfriended boy, compelled to fly from persecution under + the cover of darkness, and he felt a certain pride in showing the Mudges + that his circumstances were now entirely changed. It was over this very + road that he had walked with his little bundle, in the early morning, six + years before. It seemed to him almost like a dream. + </p> + <p> + At length he reached Wrenville. Though he had not been there for six + years, he recognized the places that had once been familiar to him. But + everything seemed to have dwindled. Accustomed to large city warehouses, + the houses in the village seemed very diminutive. Even 'Squire Benjamin + Newcome's house, which he had once regarded as a stately mansion, now + looked like a very ordinary dwelling. + </p> + <p> + As he rode up the main street of the village, many eyes were fixed upon + him and his carriage, but no one thought of recognizing, in the + well-dressed youth, the boy who had run away from the Wrenville Poorhouse. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXXV. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_CONC" id="link2H_CONC"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CONCLUSION. + </h2> + <p> + At the very moment that Paul was driving through the village street, Mr. + Nicholas Mudge entered the Poorhouse in high spirits. Certainly + ill-fortune must have befallen some one to make the good man so + exhilarant. + </p> + <p> + To explain, Mr. Mudge had just been to the village store to purchase some + groceries. One of his parcels was tied up in a stray leaf of a recent New + York Daily, in which he discovered an item which he felt sure would make + Aunt Lucy unhappy. He communicated it to Mrs. Mudge, who highly approved + his design. She called the old lady from the common room. + </p> + <p> + “Here, Aunt Lucy,” she said, “is something that will interest you.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy came in, wondering a little at such an unusual mark of + attention. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge immediately commenced reading with malicious emphasis a + paragraph concerning a certain Paul Prescott, who had been arrested for + thieving, and sentenced to the House of Reformation for a term of months. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said Mrs. Mudge, triumphantly, “what do you say to your favorite + now? Turned out well, hasn't he? Didn't I always say so? I always knew + that boy was bad at heart, and that he'd come to a bad end.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it's the same boy,” declared Aunt Lucy, who was + nevertheless unpleasantly affected by the paragraph. She thought it + possible that Paul might have yielded to a powerful temptation. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you think I've been making it up. If you don't believe it look at + the paper for yourself,” thrusting it into Aunt Lucy's hands. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the old lady. “I see that the name is the same; but, for all + that, there is a mistake somewhere. I do not believe it is the same boy.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't? Just as if there would be more than one boy of that name. + There may be other Prescotts, but there isn't but one Paul Prescott, take + my word for it.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is he,” said Aunt Lucy, indignantly, “is it Christianlike to + rejoice over the poor boy's misfortune?” + </p> + <p> + “Misfortune!” retorted Mrs. Mudge with a sneer; “you call it a misfortune + to steal, then! I call it a crime.” + </p> + <p> + “It's often misfortune that drives people to it, though,” continued the + old lady, looking keenly at Mrs. Mudge. “I have known cases where they + didn't have that excuse.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge colored. + </p> + <p> + “Go back to your room,” said she, sharply; “and don't stay here accusing + me and Mr. Mudge of unchristian conduct. You're the most troublesome + pauper we have on our hands; and I do wish the town would provide for you + somewhere else.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” sighed the old lady to herself, though she did not think fit to + give audible voice to her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + It was at this moment that Paul halted his chaise at the gate, and lightly + jumping out, fastened his horse to a tree, and walked up to the front + door. + </p> + <p> + “Who can it be?” thought Mrs. Mudge, hastily adjusting her cap, and taking + off her apron. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I'm sure,” said Mr. Mudge, unsuspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “I declare! I look like a fright.” + </p> + <p> + “No worse than usual,” said her husband, gallantly. + </p> + <p> + By this time Paul had knocked. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, sir,” said Mrs. Mudge, deferentially, her respect excited + by Paul's dress and handsome chaise. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. Lee in?” inquired Paul, not caring to declare himself, yet, to + his old enemy. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Mudge, obsequiously, though not overpleased to find that + this was Aunt Lucy's visitor; “would you like to see her?” + </p> + <p> + “If you please.” + </p> + <p> + “What can he want of the old lady?” thought Mrs. Mudge, as she went to + summon her. + </p> + <p> + “A visitor for me?” asked Aunt Lucy, looking at Mrs. Mudge somewhat + suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and as he's come in a carriage, you'd better slick up a little; put + on a clean cap or something.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Lucy was soon ready. + </p> + <p> + She looked wonderingly at Paul, not recognizing him. + </p> + <p> + “You are not very good at remembering your old friends,” said Paul, with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Aunt Lucy, her face lighting up with joy; “are you + little Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very little, now,” said our hero, laughing; “but I'm the same Paul + you used to know.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mudge, who through the half open door had heard this revelation, was + overwhelmed with astonishment and confusion. She hurried to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Wonders will never cease!” she exclaimed, holding up both hands. “If that + doesn't turn out to be Paul Prescott. Of course he's up in the world, or + he wouldn't dress so well, and ride in such a handsome carriage.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't say so!” returned Mr. Mudge, who looked as if he had heard of a + heavy misfortune. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do; I heard him say so with his own lips. It's a pity you showed + that paragraph to Aunt Lucy, this morning.” + </p> + <p> + “That you showed, you mean,” retorted her husband. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't. You know it was you that did it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush; they'll hear.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the two friends were conversing together happily. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so glad you're doing so well, Paul,” said Aunt Lucy. “It was a lucky + day when you left the Poorhouse behind you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Aunt Lucy, and to-day is a lucky day for you. There's room for two + in that chaise, and I'm going to take you away with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I should enjoy a ride, Paul. It's a long time since I have taken one.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand me. You're going away not to return.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady smiled sadly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Paul. I can't consent to become a burden upon your generosity. + You can't afford it, and it will not be right.” + </p> + <p> + “O,” said Paul, smiling, “you give me credit for too much. I mean that you + shall pay your board.” + </p> + <p> + “But you know I have no money.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't. I don't consider that a lady is penniless, who has an income + of three hundred dollars a year.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you, Paul.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, perhaps you will understand this,” said our hero, enjoying the old + lady's astonishment. + </p> + <p> + He drew from his pocket a roll of bills, and passed them to Aunt Lucy. + </p> + <p> + The old lady looked so bewildered, that he lost no time in explaining the + matter to her. Then, indeed, Aunt Lucy was happy; not only because she had + become suddenly independent, but, because after years of coldness and + estrangement, her brother had at last become reconciled to her. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Aunt Lucy,” resumed Paul, “I'll tell you what my plans are. You + shall get into the chaise with me, and go at once to New York. I think + Aunt Hester will be willing to receive you as a boarder; if not, I will + find you a pleasant place near by. Will that suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “It will make me very happy; but I cannot realize it. It seems like a + dream.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Mrs. Mudge entered the room, and, after a moment's + scrutiny, pretended to recognize Paul. Her husband followed close behind + her. + </p> + <p> + “Can I believe my eyes?” she exclaimed. “Is this indeed Paul Prescott? I + am very glad to see you back.” + </p> + <p> + “Only a visit, Mrs. Mudge,” said Paul, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “You'll stop to dinner, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + Paul thought of the soup and dry bread which he used to find so + uninviting, and said that he should not have time to do so. + </p> + <p> + “We've thought of you often,” said Mr. Mudge, writhing his harsh features + into a smile. “There's scarcely a day that we haven't spoken of you.” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to feel grateful for your remembrance,” said Paul, his eyes + twinkling with mirth. “But I don't think, Mr. Mudge, you always thought so + much of me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Mudge coughed in some embarrassment, and not thinking of anything in + particular to say, said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I am going to take from you another of your boarders,” said Paul. “Can + you spare Aunt Lucy?” + </p> + <p> + “For how long?” asked Mrs. Mudge. + </p> + <p> + “For all the time. She has just come into possession of a little property,—several + hundred dollars a year,—and I have persuaded her to go to New York + to board.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this true?” exclaimed Mrs. Mudge in astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the old lady, “God has been bountiful to me when I least + expected it.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I be of any service in assisting you to pack up, Mrs. Lee?” asked + Mrs. Mudge, with new-born politeness. She felt that as a lady of property, + Aunt Lucy was entitled to much greater respect and deference than before. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mrs. Mudge,” said Paul, answering for her. + </p> + <p> + “She won't have occasion for anything in this house. She will get a supply + of new things when she gets to New York.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady looked very happy, and Mrs. Mudge, in spite of her outward + deference, felt thoroughly provoked at her good fortune. + </p> + <p> + I will not dwell upon the journey to New York. Aunt Lucy, though somewhat + fatigued, bore it much better than she had anticipated. Mr. and Mrs. + Cameron entered very heartily into Paul's plans, and readily agreed to + receive Aunt Lucy as an inmate of their happy and united household. The + old lady felt it to be a happy and blessed change from the Poorhouse, + where scanty food and poor accommodations had been made harder to bear by + the ill temper of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, to a home whose atmosphere was peace + and kindness. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + And now, dear reader, it behooves us to draw together the different + threads of our story, and bring all to a satisfactory end. + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Mudge are no longer in charge of the Wrenville Poorhouse. + After Aunt Lucy's departure, Mrs. Mudge became so morose and despotic, + that her rule became intolerable. Loud complaints came to the ears of + 'Squire Newcome, Chairman of the Overseers of the Poor. One fine morning + he was compelled to ride over and give the interesting couple warning to + leave immediately. Mr. Mudge undertook the charge of a farm, but his + habits of intoxication increased upon him to such an extent, that he was + found dead one winter night, in a snow-drift, between his own house and + the tavern. Mrs. Mudge was not extravagant in her expressions of grief, + not having a very strong affection for her husband. At last accounts, she + was keeping a boarding-house in a manufacturing town. Some time since, her + boarders held an indignation meeting, and threatened to leave in a body + unless she improved her fare,—a course to which she was obliged to + submit. + </p> + <p> + George Dawkins, unable to obtain a recommendation from Mr. Danforth, did + not succeed in securing another place in New York. He finally prevailed + upon his father to advance him a sum of money, with which he went to + California. Let us hope that he may “turn over a new leaf” there, and + establish a better reputation than he did in New York. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Stubbs is still in the tin business. He is as happy as the day is + long, and so are his wife and children. Once a year he comes to New York + and pays Paul a visit. This supplies him with something to talk about for + the rest of the year. He is frugal in his expenses, and is able to lay up + a couple of hundred dollars every year, which he confides to Paul, in + whose financial skill he has the utmost confidence. + </p> + <p> + I am sure my boy readers would not forgive me for omitting to tell them + something more about Ben Newcome. Although his mirthful spirit sometimes + led him into mischief, he was good-hearted, and I have known him do many + an act of kindness, even at considerable trouble to himself. It will be + remembered that in consequence of his night adventure, during which he + personated a ghost, much to the terror of Mr. Mudge his father determined + to send him to a military school. This proved to be a wise arrangement. + The discipline was such as Ben needed, and he soon distinguished himself + by his excellence in the military drill. Soon after he graduated, the + Rebellion broke out, and Ben was at once, in spite of his youth, elected + Captain of the Wrenville company. At the battle of Antietam he acquitted + himself with so much credit that he was promoted to a major. He was again + promoted, and when Richmond was evacuated, he was one of the first + officers to enter the streets of the Rebel capital, a colonel in command + of his regiment. I have heard on high authority, that he is considered one + of the best officers in the service. + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Cameron are still living. They are happy in the success and + increasing prosperity of Paul, whom they regard as a son. Between them and + Aunt Lucy he would stand a very fair chance of being spoiled, if his own + good sense and good judgment were not sufficient to save him from such a + misfortune. Paul is now admitted to a small interest in the firm, which + entitles him to a share in the profits. As Danforth and Co. have done a + very extensive business of late years, this interest brings him in a very + handsome income. There is only one cause of difference between him and the + sexton. He insists that Uncle Hugh, who is getting infirm, should resign + his office, as he is abundantly able to support the whole family. But the + good sexton loves his duties, and will continue to discharge them as long + as he is able. + </p> + <p> + And now we must bid farewell to Paul. He has battled bravely with the + difficulties and discouragements that beset him in early life, he has been + faithful to the charge which he voluntarily assumed, and his father's + memory is free from reproach. He often wishes that his father could have + lived to witness his prosperity? but God has decreed it otherwise. Happy + in the love of friends, and in the enjoyment of all that can make life + desirable, so far as external circumstances have that power, let us all + wish him God speed! + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Paul Prescott's Charge, by Horatio Alger + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE *** + +***** This file should be named 293-h.htm or 293-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/293/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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