The Store Boy, Jr. Horatio Alger [best fiction books to read .txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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"It would put me on a level with Ben Barclay, if I stepped into his shoes. Won't he be down in the month when he hears he has lost his place?" and Tom chuckled at the thought.
"That is no concern of mine," said the squire. "I suppose he can hire out to a farmer."
"Just the business for him", said Tom, "unless he should prefer to go to New York and set up as a bootblack. I believe I'll suggest that to him!"
"Probably he won't thank you for the suggestion."
"I guess not. He's as proud as he is poor. It's amusing to see what airs he puts on."
Squire Davenport, however, was not so much interested in that phase of the subject as Tom, and did not reply.
"I think I'll go down street," thought Tom. "Perhaps I may come across Ben. I shall enjoy seeing how he takes it."
Tom had scarcely walked a hundred yards when he met, not the one of whom he had thought, but another to whom he felt glad to speak on the same subject. This was Rose Gardiner, the prettiest girl in the village, who had already deeply offended Tom by accepting Ben as her escort from the magical entertainment in place of him. He had made advances since, being desirous of ousting Ben from his position of favorite, but the young lady had treated him coldly, much to his anger and mortification.
"Good-morning, Miss Rose," said Tom.
"Good-morning," answered Rose civilly.
"Have you heard the news?"
"To what news do you refer?"
"Crawford has sold out his business."
"Indeed!" said Rose, in surprise; "who has bought it?"
"My father. Of course, he won't keep store himself. He will put in a connection of ours, Mr. Kirk."
"This is news, indeed! Where is Mr. Crawford going?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. I thought you'd be more apt to inquire about somebody else?"
"I am not good at guessing enigmas," said Rose.
"Your friend, Ben Barclay," returned Tom, with a sneer. "Father won't have him in the store!"
"Oh, I see; you are going to take his place," said Rose mischievously.
"I? What do you take me for?" said Tom, haughtily. "I suppose Ben Barclay will have to go to work on a farm."
"That is a very honorable employment," said Rose calmly.
"Yes; he can be a hired man when he grows up. Perhaps, though, he will prefer to go to the city and become a bootblack."
"Ben ought to be very much obliged to you for the interest you feel in his welfare," said Rose, looking steadily and scornfully at Tom. "Good-morning."
"She feels sore about it," thought Tom complacently. "She won't be quite so ready to accept Ben's attentions when he is a farm laborer."
Tom, however, did not understand Rose Gardiner. She was a girl of good sense, and her estimate of others was founded on something else than social position.
CHAPTER XVI — BEN FINDS TEMPORARY EMPLOYMENT
"Oh, Ben, what shall we do?" exclaimed Mrs. Barclay, when she heard Mr. Crawford had sold out his business.
"We'll get along somehow, mother. Something will be sure to turn up."
Ben spoke more cheerfully than he felt. He knew very well that Pentonville presented scarcely any field for a boy, unless he was willing to work on a farm. Now, Ben had no objections to farm labor, provided he had a farm of his own, but at the rate such labor was paid in Pentonville, there was very little chance of ever rising above the position of a "hired man," if he once adopted the business. Our young hero felt that this would not satisfy him. He was enterprising and ambitious, and wanted to be a rich man some day.
Money is said, by certain moralists, to be the root of all evil. The love of money, if carried too far, may indeed lead to evil, but it is a natural ambition in any boy or man to wish to raise himself above poverty. The wealth of Amos Lawrence and Peter Cooper was a source of blessing to mankind, yet each started as a poor boy, and neither would have become rich if he had not striven hard to become so.
When Ben made this cheerful answer his mother shook her head sadly. She was not so hopeful as Ben, and visions of poverty presented themselves before her mind.
"I don't see what you can find to do in Pentonville, Ben," she said.
"I can live a while without work while I am looking around, mother," Ben answered. "We have got all that money I brought from New York yet."
"It won't last long," said his mother despondently.
"It will last till I can earn some more," answered Ben hopefully.
Ben was about to leave the house when a man in a farmer's frock, driving a yoke of oxen, stopped his team in the road, and turned in at the widow's gate.
It was Silas Greyson, the owner of a farm just out of the village.
"Did you want to see mother?" asked Ben.
"No, I wanted to see you, Benjamin," answered Greyson. "I hear you've left the store."
"The store has changed hands, and the new storekeeper don't want me."
"Do you want a job?"
"What is it, Mr. Greyson?" Ben replied, answering one question with another.
"I'm goin' to get in wood for the winter from my wood lot for about a week," said the farmer, "and I want help. Are you willin' to hire out for a week?"
"What'll you pay me?" asked Ben.
"I'll keep you, and give you a cord of wood. Your mother'll find it handy. I'm short of money, and calc'late wood'll be just as good pay."
Ben thought over the proposal, and answered: "I'd rather take my meals at home, Mr. Greyson, and if you'll make it two cords with that understanding, I'll agree to hire out to you."
"Ain't that rather high?" asked the farmer, hesitating.
"I don't think so."
Finally Silas Greyson agreed, and Ben promised to be on hand bright and early the next day. It may be stated here that wood was very cheap at Pentonville, so that Ben would not be overpaid.
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