Bound to Rise 8

Bound to Rise 8

He knew he was right, but it was disagreeable to be called a miser.

He was too proud to justify himself to Luke, who spent all his money

foolishly, though earning considerably larger wages than he.

 

There was one thing that Harry had not yet been able to do to any great

extent, though it was something he had at heart. He had not forgotten

his motto, "Live and Learn," and now that he was in a fair way to make

a living, he felt that he had made no advance in learning during the few

weeks since he arrived in Glenville.

 

The day previous he had heard, for the first time, that there was a

public library in another part of the town, which was open evenings.

Though it was two miles distant, and he had been at work all day, he

determined to walk up there and get a book. He felt that he was very

ignorant, and that his advance in the world depended upon his improving

all opportunities that might present themselves for extending his

limited knowledge. This was evidently one.

 

After his unsatisfactory interview with Luke, he set out for the upper

village, as it was called. Forty minutes' walk brought him to the

building in which the library was kept. An elderly man had charge of

it--a Mr. Parmenter.

 

"Can I take out a book?" asked Harry.

 

"Do you live in town?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"I don't remember seeing you before. You don't live in this village, do

you?"

 

"No, sir. I live in the lower village."

 

"What is your name?"

 

"Harry Walton."

 

"I don't remember any Walton family."

 

"My father lives in Granton. I am working for Mr. James Leavitt."

 

"I have no doubt this is quite correct, but I shall have to have Mr.

Leavitt's certificate to that effect, before I can put your name down,

and trust you with books."

 

"Then can't I take any book to-night?" asked Harry, disappointed.

 

"I am afraid not."

 

So it seemed his two-mile walk was for nothing. He must retrace his

steps and come again Monday night.

 

He was turning away disappointed when Dr. Townley, of the lower village,

who lived near Mr. Leavitt, entered the library.

 

"My wife wants a book in exchange for this, Mr. Parmenter," he said.

"Have you got anything new in? Ah, Harry Walton, how came you here? Do

you take books out of the library?"

 

"That's is what I came up for, but the librarian says I must bring a

line from Mr. Leavitt, telling who I am."

 

"If Dr. Townley knows you, that is sufficient," said the librarian.

 

"He is all right, Mr. Parmenter. He is a young neighbor of mine."

 

"That is enough. He can select a book."

 

Harry was quite relieved at this fortunate meeting, and after a little

reflection selected the first volume of "Rollin's Universal History," a

book better known to our fathers than the present generation.

 

"That's a good, solid book, Harry," said the doctor.

 

"Most of our young people select stories."

 

"I like stories very much," said Harry; "but I have only a little time

to read, and I must try to learn something."

 

"You are a sensible boy," said the doctor, emphatically.

 

"I'm afraid there are few of our young people who take such wise views

of what is best for them. Most care only for present enjoyment."

 

"I have got my own way to make," said Harry, "and I suppose that is what

influences me. My father is poor and cannot help me, and I want to rise

in the world."

 

"You are going the right way to work. Do you intend to take out books

often from the library?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"It will be a long walk from the lower village."

 

"I would walk farther rather than do without the books."

 

"I can save you at any rate from walking back. My chaise is outside,

and, if you will jump in, I will carry you home."

 

"Thank you, doctor. I shall be very glad to ride."

 

On the way, Dr. Townley said: "I have a few miscellaneous book in my

medical library, which I will lend to you with pleasure, if you will

come in. It may save you an occasional walk to the library."

 

Harry thanked him, and not long afterwards availed himself of the

considerate proposal. Dr Townley was liberally educated, and as far

as his professional engagements would permit kept up with general

literature. He gave Harry some valuable directions as to the books which

it would benefit him to read, and more than once took him up on the road

to the library.

 

Once a week regularly Harry wrote home. He knew that his letters would

give pleasure to the family, and he never allowed anything to interfere

with his duty.

 

His father wrote: "We are getting on about as usual. The cow does

tolerably well, but is not as good as the one I lost. I have not yet

succeeded in laying up anything toward paying for her. Somehow, whenever

I have a few dollars laid aside Tom wants shoes, or your sister wants a

dress, or some other expense swallows it up."

 

Harry wrote in reply: "Don't trouble yourself, father, about your debt

to Squire Green. If I have steady work, and keep my health, I shall have

enough to pay it by the time it comes due."

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XIV. THE TAILOR'S CUSTOMER

 

 

At the end of six weeks from the date of Robert's departure, Harry had

been paid eighteen dollars. Of this sum he had spent but one dollar,

and kept the balance in his pocketbook. He did not care to send it home

until he had enough to meet Squire Green's demand, knowing that his

father would be able to meet his ordinary expenses. Chiefly through the

reports of Luke Harrison he was acquiring the reputation of meanness,

though, as we know, he was far from deserving it.

 

"See how the fellow dresses," said Luke, contemptuously, to two of his

companions one evening. "His clothes are shabby enough, and he hasn't

got an overcoat at all. He hoards his money, and is too stingy to buy

one. See, there he comes, buttoned to the chin to keep warm, and

I suppose he has more money in his pocketbook than the whole of us

together. I wouldn't be as mean as he is for a hundred dollars."

 

"You'd rather get trusted for your clothes than do without them," said

Frank Heath, slyly; for he happened to know that Luke had run up a bill

with the tailor, about which the latter was getting anxious.

 

"What if I do," said Luke, sharply, "as long as I am going to pay for

them?"

 

"Oh, nothing," said Frank. "I didn't say anything against it, did I? I

suppose you are as able to owe the tailor as anyone."

 

By this time, Harry had come up.

 

"Where are you going, Walton?" asked Luke. "You look cold."

 

"Yes, it's a cold day."

 

"Left your overcoat at home, didn't you?"

 

Harry colored. The fact was, he felt the need of an overcoat, but didn't

know how to manage getting one. At the lowest calculation, it would cost

all the money he had saved up for one, and the purchase would defeat all

his plans. The one he had worn at home during the previous winter was

too small for him, and had been given to his brother.

 

"If I only could get through the winter without one," he thought, "I

should be all right." But a New England winter is not to be braved

with impunity, useless protected by adequate clothing. Luke's sneer was

therefore not without effect. But he answered, quietly: "I did not leave

it at home, for I have none to leave."

 

"I suppose you are bound to the tailor's to order one."

 

"What makes you think so?" asked Harry.

 

"You are not such a fool as to go without one when you have money in

your pocket, are you?"

 

"You seem very curious about my private affairs," said Harry, rather

provoked.

 

"He's only drumming up customers for the tailor," said Frank Heath. "He

gets a commission on all he brings."

 

"That's the way he pays his bill," said Sam Anderson.

 

"Quit fooling, boys," said Luke, irritated. "I ain't a drummer. I pay my

bills, like a gentleman."

 

"By keeping the tailor waiting," said Frank.

 

"Quit that!"

 

So attention was diverted from Harry by this opportune attack upon

Luke, much to our hero's relief. Nevertheless, he saw, that in order to

preserve his health, he must have some outer garment, and in order the

better to decide what to do, he concluded to step into the tailor's, and

inquire his prices.

 

The tailor, Merrill by name, had a shop over the dry goods store, and

thither Harry directed his steps. There was one other person in the

shop, a young fellow but little larger than Harry, though two years

older, who was on a visit to an aunt in the neighborhood, but lived in

Boston. He belonged to a rich family, and had command of considerable

money. His name was Maurice Tudor. He had gone into the shop to leave a

coat to be repaired.

 

"How are you, Walton?" he said, for he knew our hero slightly.

 

"Pretty well. Thank you."

 

"It's pretty cold for October."

 

"Yes, unusually so."

 

"Mr. Merrill," said Harry, "I should like to inquire the price of an

overcoat. I may want to order one by and by."

 

"What sort of one do you want--pretty nice?"

 

"No, I can't afford anything nice--something as cheap as possible."

 

"This is the cheapest goods I have," said the tailor, pointing to some

coarse cloth near by.

 

"I can make you up a coat from that for eighteen dollars."

 

"Eighteen dollars!" exclaimed Harry, in dismay. "Is that the cheapest

you have?"

 

"The very cheapest."

 

After a minute's pause he added, "I might take off a dollar for cash.

I've got enough of running up bills. There's Luke Harrison owes me over

thirty dollars, and I don't believe he means to pay it al all."

 

"If I buy, I shall pay cash," said Harry, quietly.

 

"You can't get anything cheaper than this." said the tailor.

 

"Very likely not," said Harry, soberly. "I'll think about it, and let

you know if I decide to take it."

 

Maurice Tudor was a silent listener to this dialogue. He saw Harry's

sober __EXPRESSION__, and he noticed the tone in which he repeated "eighteen

dollars," and he guessed the truth. He lingered after Harry went out,

and said:

 

"That's a good fellow."

 

"Harry Walton?" repeated the tailor. "Yes, he's worth a dozen Luke

Harrisons."

 

"Has he been in the village long?"

 

"No, not more than two or three months. He works for Mr. Leavitt."

 

"He is rather poor, I suppose."

 

"Yes. The boys call him mean; but Leavitt tells me he is saving up every

cent to send to his father, who is a poor farmer."

 

"That's a good thing in him."

 

"Yes, I wish I could afford to give him and overcoat. He needs one, but

I suppose seventeen dollars will come rather hard on him to pay. If it

was Luke Harrison, it wouldn't trouble him much."

 

"You mean he would get it on tick."

 

"Yes, if he found anybody fool enough to trust him. I've done it as long

as I'm going to. He won't get a dollar more credit out of me till he

pays his bill."

 

"You're perfectly right, there."

 

"So I think. He earns a good deal more than Walton, but spends what he

earns on billiards, drinks and cigars."

 

"There he comes up the stairs, now."

 

In fact, Luke with his two companions directly afterwards entered the

shop.

 

"Merrill," said he, "have you got in any new goods? I must have a new

pair of pants."

 

"Yes, I've got some new goods. There's a piece open before you."

 

"It's a pretty thing, Merrill," said Luke, struck by it; "what's your

price for a pair off of it?"

 

"Ten dollars."

 

"Isn't that rather steep?"

 

"No; the cloth is superior quality."

 

"Well, darn the expense. I like it, and must have it. Just measure me,

will you?"

 

"Are you ready to pay the account I have against you?"

 

"How much is it?"

 

The tailor referred to his books.

 

"Thirty-two dollars and fifty cents," he answered.

 

"All right, Merrill. Wait till the pants are done, and I'll pay the

whole at once."

 

"Ain't my credit good?" blustered Luke.

 

"You can make it good," said the tailor, significantly.

 

"I didn't think you'd make such a fuss about a small bill."

 

"I didn't think you'd find is so difficult to pay a small bill,"

returned the tailor.

 

Luke looked discomfited. He was silent a moment, and then changed his

tactics.

 

"Come, Merrill," he said, persuasively; "don't be alarmed. I'm good for

it, I guess. I haven't got the money convenient to-day. I lent fifty

dollars. I shall have it back next week and then I will pay you."

 

"I am glad to hear it," said Merrill.

 

"So just measure me and hurry up the pants."

 

"I'm sorry but I can't till you settle the bill."

 

"Look here, has Walton been talking against me?"

 

"No; what makes you think so?"

 

"He don't like me, because I twitted him with his meanness."

 

"I don't consider him mean."

 

"Has he ever bought anything of you?"

 

"No."

 

"I knew it. He prefers to go ragged and save his money."

 

"He's too honorable to run up a bill without paying it."

 

"Do you mean me?" demanded Luke, angrily.

 

"I hope not. I presume you intend to pay your bills."

 

Luke Harrison left the shop. He saw that he exhausted his credit with

Merrill. As to paying the bill, there was not much chance of that at

present, as he had but one dollar and a half in his pocket.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XV. "BY EXPRESS"

 

 

"There's a model for you," said the tailor to Maurice Tudor. "He won't

pay his bills."

 

"How did you come to trust him in the first place?"

 

"I didn't know him then as well as I do now. I make it a practice to

accommodate my customers by trusting them for a month or two, if they

want it. But Luke Harrison isn't one to be trusted."

 

"I should say not."

 

"If young Walton wants to get an overcoat on credit, I shan't object. I

judge something by looks, and I am sure he is honest."

 

"Well, good night, Mr. Merrill. You'll have my coat done soon?"

 

"Yes, Mr. Tudor. It shall be ready for you to-morrow."

 

Maurice Tudor left the tailor's shop, revolving a new idea which

had just entered his mind. Now he remembered that he had at home and

excellent overcoat which he had worn the previous winter, but which was

now too small for him. He had no younger brother to wear it, nor in his

circumstances was such economy necessary. As well as he could judge

by observing Harry's figure, it would be an excellent fit for him. Why

should he not give it to him?

 

The opportunity came. On his way home he overtook our hero, plunged in

thought. In fact, he was still occupied with the problem of the needed

overcoat.

 

"Good evening, Harry," said young Tudor.

 

"Good evening, Mr. Tudor," answered Harry. "Are you going back to the

city soon?"

 

"In the course of a week or two. Mr. Leavitt's son is in a store in

Boston, is he not?"

 

"Yes. I have taken his place in the shop."

 

"By the way, I saw you in Merrill's this evening."

 

"Yes; I was pricing an overcoat."

 

"I bought this one in Boston just before I came away. I have a very good

one left from last winter but it is too small for me. It is of no use to

me. If I thought you would accept it, I would offer it to you."

 

Harry's heart gave a joyful bound.

 

"Accept it!" he repeated. "Indeed I will and thank you for your great kindness."