Walter Sherwood's Probation, Jr. Horatio Alger [best pdf reader for ebooks txt] 📗
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“Be kind enough to follow me.”
Walter followed the landlady up a narrow staircase, or rather two of them, and was shown a hall bedroom, which seemed to be uncomfortably full, though it only contained a bedstead, a chair, a very small bureau and a washstand. There was scarcely room for him to stand unless he stood on the bed. It was indeed vastly different from his nice college room and from his comfortable chamber at home.
“I should like to see a larger room,” said Walter, not venturing to make any comment on the hall room.
He was shown an adjoining apartment, about ten feet by twelve. It was small, but decidedly preferable to the other.
“How much do you charge for this room, Mrs. Canfield?”
“I shall have to charge you six dollars if you occupy it alone, but if you can get another young gentleman to occupy it with you I will say ten dollars for the two.”
“I will take it alone at first. Can I move in tomorrow morning?”
“I will have it ready for you by eleven o'clock.”
“That will do.”
“How do you like it?” asked Ashton, when they were in the street.
“I think I can make it do.”
“I suppose you have been used to something better?”
“Yes.”
“I can direct you to a better house.”
“Thank you, but six dollars a week is all I can afford at present. I have no income, but I shall look for a place at once.”
“You haven't any trade, have you?”
“No,” answered Walter, with a smile. Brought up as he had been, it seemed odd to be asked if he had a trade.
“Some trades pay very well. I have a nephew who is a bricklayer. He gets from three to four dollars a day.”
“I am afraid I should not like that business. Besides, it would take a good while to learn it.”
Walter smiled to himself as he pictured some of his aristocratic college friends seeing him laying bricks. He was not a snob, nor would he have disdained to notice a friend or school companion filling such a position, but he felt that Providence must have something in store for him more congenial, though perhaps less lucrative.
“I have a cousin who is a carpenter,” proceeded Ashton. “He makes two dollars and a half a day, and supports a wife and three children in comfort.”
“I wonder if I could support a family on fifteen dollars a week?” thought Walter. “Fortunately, I have only to support myself. I ought to be able to do that in a large city like Chicago.”
Reared in comfort, Walter knew very little of the competition and struggles of workingmen, and had an idea that he would be able easily to command a salary of ten dollars a week, though he was wholly disqualified for any special line of business. This he set down as the minimum. Paying six dollars a week for board, he calculated that he could get along on this salary with extreme economy. Fortunately, he was pretty well provided with clothing, or would be when he had sent for his trunk, and would not find it necessary for some time to come to purchase anything, except probably a pair of shoes, a necktie, or some trifle. Then probably his pay would soon be raised, and this would make him comfortable.
That evening Walter went to Hooley's Theater and occupied a dollar seat. It was hardly prudent, but he had seventy dollars still, and that seemed to him a large sum. He enjoyed the play, and got a sound night's rest after it.
The next morning he settled his hotel bill, took his gripsack in his hand, and walked over to his new boarding-house.
CHAPTER XII IN SEARCH OF EMPLOYMENT
“Wanted—A young man of seventeen or eighteen in an insurance office, No. 169 La Salle Street.”
This notice attracted the attention of Walter as he ran his eyes over the advertising columns of the Chicago Times on the second day after his arrival in the city.
“I think that will suit me,” he said to himself. “It is a nice, respectable business, and I think I should like it. I will go to the office and make inquiries.”
He entered a large building, devoted to offices, and ascended to the third story, where he found the office of Perkins & Windermere, the names given in the advertisement. A young man of about his own age was coming out of the office as he entered—an unsuccessful applicant, Walter inferred.
Opening the door, he saw a man of about forty seated in a revolving chair at a desk.
“I believe you advertised for an assistant,” began Walter, as the occupant of the chair turned round.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Perkins—for it was he—eying Walter with a scrutinizing glance.
“I would like to apply for the position.”
“Humph! Do you know anything of the insurance business?”
“Not practically, sir.”
“That's against you.”
“I think I could soon familiarize myself with it so as to make myself useful.”
“How old are you?”
“Very nearly eighteen.”
“Do you live in Chicago?”
“I do now. I have recently come from the East.”
“What education have you?”
“I spent two years at Euclid College,” answered Walter, with conscious pride.
“So you are a college student?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Humph! That won't do you any good.”
“I hope it won't do me any harm, sir,” said Walter, somewhat nettled.
“No, unless it has made you conceited. I am a graduate of the People's College.”
“I don't think I have heard of that, sir.”
“I mean the common school. Don't think much of college myself. They don't help in our business. They didn't have any insurance companies in Greece or Rome, did they?”
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