Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes, Jr. Horatio Alger [best ebook reader for surface pro txt] 📗

"But I don't know who we can get."

"Just so."

At that moment there was a knock at the door. Priscilla answered it in person. They kept no domestic servant, only a gardener.

"I've brought the load of wood you ordered, ma'am," said the teamster. "Where shall I put it?"

"In the backyard. John—no, John has left us. I will show you, myself."

She put on a cape-bonnet and indicated the place in the yard where she wanted the wood dumped.

Then she returned to the house.

"It's very awkward that John should have acted so," she said, in a tone of annoyance. "I don't know who is to saw and split that wood."

"We couldn't do it," said Sophia, with another original suggestion.

"Of course not. That would be perfectly absurd."

"Just so."

"I don't believe there is enough wood sawed and split to last through the day."

"We must have some split."

"Of course. But I really don't know of anyone in the neighborhood that we could get."

"John."

"John has gone away. You know why."

"Perhaps he wouldn't kiss us if we told him not to," suggested Sophia.

"I am afraid you are a goose," said Priscilla, composedly.

"Just so," slipped out of Sophia's mouth from force of habit, but her sister was so used to hearing it that she took no particular notice of it on the present occasion.

It was just at this time that Andy, released from his severe and unrequited labor for Deacon Jones, came by. He saw the wood being unloaded in the back yard, and an idea struck him.

"Maybe I can get the chance of sawin' and splittin' that wood. I'll try, anyway. I wonder who lives there?"

He immediately opened the front gate, and marching up to the front door, knocked vigorously.

"There's somebody at the door," said Sophia.

"Perhaps it's John come back," said Priscilla. "I am afraid of going to open it. He might want to kiss me again."

"I'll go," said Sophia, rising with unwonted alacrity.

"He might want to kiss you."

"I'll tell him not to."

"We'll both go," said Priscilla, decisively.

Accordingly, the two sisters, for mutual protection, both went to the door, and opened it guardedly. Their courage returned when they saw that it was only a boy.

"What do you want?" asked Priscilla.

"Just so," chimed in Sophia.

"You've got a load of wood in the back yard," commenced Andy.

"Just so," said Sophia.

"Do you want it sawed and split?"

"Just so," answered the younger sister, brightening up.

"Can you do it?" inquired Priscilla.

"Try me and see," answered Andy.

"You're not a man."

"Just so," chimed in her sister.

"Faith, and I soon will be," said Andy. "I can saw and split wood as well as any man you ever saw."

"What is your name?"

"Andy Burke."

"Are you a—Hibernian?" inquired Priscilla.

"I don't know what you mane by that same," said Andy, perplexed.

"To what nation do you belong?"

"Oh, that's what you want, ma'am. I'm only an Irish boy."

"And you say your name is Burke?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you related to Burke, the great orator? He was an Irishman, I believe."

"Just so," said Sophia.

"He was my great-grandfather, ma'am," answered Andy, who had never heard of the eminent orator, but thought the claim would improve his chances of obtaining the job of sawing and splitting wood.

"Your great-grandfather!" exclaimed Priscilla, in astonishment. "Really, this is most extraordinary. And you are poor?"

"If I wasn't I wouldn't be goin' round sawin' wood, ma'am."

"Just so," said Sophia.

"To think that the grandson of the great Burke should come to us for employment," said Priscilla, who was in some respects easily taken in. "I think we must hire him, Sophia."

"Just so."

"Perhaps he could take John's place altogether."

"Just so."

"I must find out whether he understands gardening."

"Just so."

Andy stood by, waiting patiently for the decision, and hoping that it might be favorable. Of course, it was wrong for him to tell a lie, but he thought his engagement depended upon it, and, although a very good boy in the main, he was not altogether perfect, as my readers are destined to find out.