The Telegraph Messenger Boy, Edward Sylvester Ellis [best free ebook reader for pc .TXT] 📗

or some sort of wild animal, for he started up the river bank, shouting "Murder!" at the top of his voice. Ben, having got through with the two under him, sprang off and allowed them to rise, standing ready to renew the fight should they show any desire to do so.

But they were too thoroughly vanquished. Their plight was laughable, and yet pitiable. They were coated with mud from head to foot, and their pretty hats, with their polka-dot bands, were gone too far down the river to be recovered.

They seemed dazed for a minute or so, but as soon as they realized they were on their feet they started off after their flying companion, never pausing to look behind them, but running as though a Bengal tiger was at their heels.

"Ben," said I, walking forward as soon as I could assume a serious expression of countenance, "do you not know it is very wrong to fight?"

"That's what I was tryin' to teach them city chaps. I guess they'll think so after this."

"You certainly did your best to convince them it isn't wise to attack you; but, Ben, what have you been doing lately?"

"My last job was whipping them," replied the urchin, with a roguish twinkle of his blue eyes; "but that was fun, and if you mean work, I hain't had anything but selling papers since last summer, but sometimes I run errands."

"Do you go to school?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would you like a job?"

"Indeed I would, sir, for mother finds it hard work to get along, and sometimes there isn't anything to eat in the house. Once, when I was a little fellow, when I saw mother crying, and there was no bread, I slipped out at night and stole a loaf, but mother would not touch it when I brought it home, and made me take it back. She told me I must starve before I did wrong, and so I will. I have been trying to get a job all summer, but everybody says I am too young and small. I take all the exercise I can, so as to make me grow, and that's one reason why I pitched into them city chaps and laid 'em out."

"Well, Ben, you know where the office of the Western Union is; come around there to-morrow morning, at eight o'clock, and I will give you something to do."

"Oh, I'm very thankful to you, sir, and this will make my mother the happiest woman in Damietta."

I saw tears in the bright eyes, as Ben ran home to carry the good news to his mother.


CHAPTER III

THE OFFICE BOY

When I approached the office the next morning, little Ben Mayberry was standing outside, smiling and expectant.

My heart was touched when I saw what pains his mother had taken to put her boy in presentable shape. He had on a pair of coarse shoes, carefully blacked, and a new, cheap hat replaced the dilapidated one of the day before. He wore a short coat and a vest, which must have served him as his Sunday suit for a long time, as they were much too small for him.

But there was a cleanly, neat look about him which attracted me at once. His face was as rosy as an apple, and his large, white teeth were as sound as new silver dollars. His dark hair, which was inclined to be curly, was cut short, and the ill-fitting clothes could not conceal the symmetry of his growing figure.

"Well, Ben," said I cheerily, as I shook his hand, "I am glad to see you are here on time. You are young, you know, but are old enough to make a start. As I expect you to reach the top of the ladder, I mean that you shall begin at the bottom round."

I am not sure he understood this figurative language, but I made it clear to him the next minute.

"You are to be here every morning before seven o'clock, to sweep out the office and make it ready for business. You must see that all the spittoons are cleaned, that the ink wells at the desk are provided with ink, that the pens are good enough for use (I never yet have seen a public office where the writing facilities were not wretched), abundance of blanks on hand, and that everything is tidied up. In summer, you must wash off the ice and place it in the cooler, and in winter, see that the fires are going and the office comfortable at the time we go there for business. Can you do it, Ben?"

"Yes, sir, and glad to have the chance."

"This will give you some opportunity to attend the public school, which, of course, you will take advantage of. Then, when you can, you will begin to study telegraphy. I will see that you have every chance, and, at the same time, I will give you a lift now and then in your studies. This is the first step, Ben; in this country anything is possible to the boy who has brains, pluck, and application. Everything now depends on yourself; with the help of Heaven you will succeed; if you fail, it will be your own fault. To-day you start on your career, which will lead to success and happiness or to failure and misery."

Ben listened respectfully to what I said, and seemed impressed by my words. I took him inside the office, explained to him more particularly his duties, gave him a key with which to enter in the morning, and told him to be on hand at six o'clock on the morrow, until which time he was excused. His wages were to be two dollars a week, to begin from the day on which I engaged him. Ben raised his hat, bade me good-day, and went home, and I am sure there was no happier boy in Damietta than he.

It goes without saying that he attended to his duties faithfully from the very first. He went to the public school when he could gain the chance. I learned that he was a favorite there, on account of his manliness and excellent scholarship. In conjunction with the principal we arranged to give him private instruction at night, so that during the day he could devote his energies to learning telegraphy, in which he displayed great aptitude.

As I was manager of the office, it was in my power to advance Ben as rapidly as circumstances warranted. He was given to understand from the first that he would be assisted to the extent to which he proved himself deserving, and no further. I did not intend to spoil him by undue favors, nor did I allow him to see how much I really thought of him. One of the surest means of ruining a boy is by partiality and too rapid advancement; but I gave him an encouraging word now and then, and took pains to let his mother know that he was meeting my high expectations, and that he was fully worthy of the hopes she entertained of him.

I shall never forget the glow which came into the pinched face when I addressed her thus, nor the devout expression which overspread her countenance at my liberal praise of her child.

"Ben has always been obedient to his father and mother. I have never known him to swear or tell an untruth, and he never took anything that was not his own--that is," the poor lady hastened to add when she recalled the painful circumstance, "he never forgot himself but once."

"He told me about it; few could blame him for that misstep; I cannot think the distressing necessity will ever arise again. Should Heaven spare his life he will become your staff, upon which you can soon lean your whole weight."

She gave a faint sigh of happiness.

"My boy Ben has never brought a pang to his mother's heart."

Ah, my young friend, can your mother say that? When that dear head is laid low, when those loving eyes shall be closed forever, and the sweet voice is hushed in the tomb, will you be able to say through your blinding tears:

"I never brought a pang to her heart!"


CHAPTER IV

A MESSAGE IN THE NIGHT

At the end of a month Ben Mayberry was made a messenger boy of the office under my charge. This cannot be called a very momentous promotion, inasmuch as many of our telegraphists begin there; but it doubled Ben's wages at once, and led to his appearance in the attractive blue uniform which the boys of the Western Union wear. In his case it seemed to add two inches to his stature at once.

Ben was our best messenger from the first. He was acquainted with the city of Damietta from one end to the other, and his superior fleetness of foot enabled him to outstrip the others, while his cheerful, intelligent manner added to his popularity with our customers.

As he was so young, I determined to keep him messenger for a longer time than was really necessary, affording him all the opportunity he could ask in which to learn telegraphy. He picked it up rapidly, and I was surprised when I found him reading messages over the wires by sound. As everyone knows, it takes a skillful operator, or rather one of experience, to do this, a proof that Ben was applying himself to learning the business with all the power at his command.

In more than one instance, those who knew the high estimation in which the boy was held exerted themselves to put annoyances and obstructions in his way. All manner of pretexts were made for detaining him, and he showed no little originality and ingenuity in outwitting his very attentive friends.

He continued to apply himself evenings, when not on duty at the office, and his progress was excellent in every respect. The kind principal showed great interest in him, and at the age of twelve Ben Mayberry possessed what may be called a good elementary English education.

Before, however, these two years had passed he could receive and send messages in a very acceptable manner. His wages had been advanced, and he now had his mother in comfortable quarters, dressed tastefully himself, and was developing into a handsome youth, whose brilliant work had already attracted the notice of the general superintendent.

Ben had been an operator a little less than a year when he met with a most extraordinary experience, which to-day is a theme of never-ending wonder to those who were living in Damietta at the time.

One evening a rough-bearded man entered the office, and stepping to the counter, said to me:

"My name is Burkhill--G. R. Burkhill--and I am staying at the hotel in Moorestown. I am expecting a very important dispatch to-night, but I cannot wait for it. If it reaches this office before ten o'clock, I wish to have it delivered to the hotel."

Moorestown lay directly across the river, and was reached by the long, covered bridge which spanned the stream. It was beyond our "jurisdiction," that is, outside the circle of free delivery, which Mr. Burkhill understood, as he remarked that he would pay well for the trouble.

I assured him that I would see that the telegram reached him that night, if received before ten o'clock. Thanking me, he said good-evening, passed out, mounted his horse, and galloped away in the wintry darkness.

It was in the month of February, but the