Walter Sherwood's Probation, Jr. Horatio Alger [best pdf reader for ebooks txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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“When you are in the city shall I get my commission?”
“Ahem! I am not clear as to that,” answered Professor Robinson thoughtfully. “You see you are not called upon to play.”
“Suppose you give me five per cent. in Chicago and large places.”
“Very well. I will do so. I will settle with you at the end of every week, if that will be satisfactory.”
“Yes, sir.”
Two days afterward a light wagon drew up in front of the hotel, drawn by a strong horse, and Walter helped the professor to put a trunk of medicine in the back part. Then he seated himself with Professor Robinson on the front seat, and they set out in the direction of the suburbs.
A new life was opening before Walter. What it would lead to he could not guess. At any rate, it promised him a living, and this was a practical advantage which he had learned to appreciate.
“How long have you been in this business, professor?” he asked.
“Ten years,” answered the professor.
“How did you happen to go into it?”
“I'll tell you. Ten years ago I found myself in a tight place. I was on my uppers, as the actors say. A friend, who was a drug clerk, gave me the recipe for my balm, I borrowed a hundred dollars, had a quantity made up, and set out on the road.”
“And now?”
“Now I am worth fifteen thousand dollars, well invested, and can make a good living every year.”
All this was encouraging to Walter. He was eager to begin his work.
CHAPTER XX ON THE ROAD
On a small common, near the center of the village of Brandon—for special reasons I do not give the real names of places visited by the travelers—Professor Robinson halted his wagon and signed to Walter to commence playing.
“Give 'em something popular,” he said.
Walter struck up “Annie Rooney,” and followed it up with “McGinty.”
Within ten minutes fifty persons were gathered about the wagon. Then the professor held up his hand and Walter stopped.
“Gentlemen,” began the professor, “my young assistant will soon charm you again with the dulcet strains of his violin. But it is necessary for me to combine business with pleasure, and it affords me satisfaction to call your attention to the surpassing merits of my Liquid Balm, only twenty-five cents a bottle. It is a sovereign remedy for most of the diseases that flesh is heir to. All diseases of the stomach, liver, and lungs are, if not cured, very greatly mitigated by this wonderful medicine. It is the only remedy for consumption that can be relied upon. Why, gentlemen, a year since I was selling in a small town in Ohio. Among those who gathered about me was a hollow-cheeked man with a churchyard cough. He asked me if I would undertake to cure him. I answered that I would guarantee nothing, but was convinced that his life would be prolonged by the use of my balm. He bought half-a-dozen bottles. Where do you think that man is now?”
Voice in the crowd: “In the grave.”
“Not a bit of it, gentlemen. He is hale and hearty, his face is full, his color healthy, and he tips the scales at one hundred and seventy-five pounds. I was myself surprised at the extraordinary efficacy of my wonderful medicine. He used in all a dozen bottles, giving me a second order later on, and so for the paltry sum of three dollars was drawn back from the brink of the grave, and restored to life and health. Now, who will buy a bottle?”
This appeal sold eight bottles.
A saffron-faced man came forward and asked if the balm could cure liver-complaint.
“My friend,” said the professor, “if you will try the balm—you ought to have half-a-dozen bottles, as it is uncertain when I shall come this way again—your liver will become O. K. and your face will be as fresh and blooming as that of a twelve-year-old boy.”
This prospect seemed so encouraging that the saffron-faced man bought four bottles, and took the professor's address.
At the end of about twenty minutes Walter struck up again, a lively dancing tune, and was listened to with evident pleasure.
When all who desired the balm seemed to have invested, the professor brought out a supply of toilet soaps, and sold to the amount of a couple of dollars.
At the end of two hours he packed up his wares, Walter took a seat beside him, and they started for the next village.
“You had a pretty good sale, professor,” said Walter.
“Yes; as well as I can calculate I took in about ten dollars.”
Walter reflected with pleasure that his commission would amount to a dollar.
The professor had another way of utilizing remedies. When he put up for the night at a hotel, he usually succeeded in paying a part of his hotel bill in medicine or toilet articles. As his average profits on the former were seventy per cent., and on the latter forty, it may be seen that this was greatly to his advantage. Walter did not wonder that he had already accumulated a small competence.
On the fourth evening, as Walter was leaving the supper-table, a tall young man, looking something like the stock pictures of Uncle Sam, came up to him.
“Say, young fellow,” he commenced, “some of us young people are going to have a dance at the schoolhouse hall, but we haven't got no fiddler. Peter Jackson, who generally plays for us, has got the lumbago and can't play. What'll you charge?”
“What do you generally pay Mr. Jackson?” asked Walter.
“Three dollars an evening.”
“Do you think I can play as well as he?”
“You kin play enough sight better. He can't play no tunes that ain't fifty years old.”
“Very well, I will charge you the same, that is, if the professor doesn't object.”
“Go ahead and see him and let me know.”
Walter sought the professor and laid the matter before him.
“All right!” was the answer. “I've no objection. You can give me one-third of
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