The Store Boy

This came to the ears of Squire Davenport, who was always keen-scented for a bargain. His wife's cousin, Mr. Kirk, who has already been introduced to the reader, had, in his earlier days, served as a clerk in a country store. He had no capital, to be sure, but the squire had plenty. It occurred to him as a good plan to buy out the business himself, hire Kirk on a salary to conduct it, and so add considerably to his already handsome income. He sent for Kirk, ascertained that he was not only willing, but anxious, to manage the business, and then he called on Mr. Crawford.

It is unnecessary to detail the negotiations that ensued. It was Squire Davenport's wish to obtain the business as cheaply as possible. The storekeeper, however, had his own estimate of its worth, and the squire was obliged to add considerable to his first offer. In the end, however, he secured it on advantageous terms, and Mr. Crawford now felt able to carry out the plan he had long had in view.

It was in the evening, a week after the fire, that the bargain was struck, and Ben was one of the first to hear of it.

When he came to work early the next morning he found his employer in the store before him, which was not usual.

"You are early, Mr. Crawford," he said, in evident surprise.

"Yes, Ben," was the reply. "I can afford to come early for a morning or two, as I shall soon be out of business."

"You haven't sold out, have you?" inquired Ben quickly.

"Yes; the bargain was struck last evening."

"How soon do you leave the store?"

"In three days. It will take that time to make up my accounts."

"I am sorry," said Ben, "for I suppose I shall have to retire, too."

"I don't know about that, Ben. Very likely my successor may want you."

"That depends on who he is. Do you mind telling me, or is it a secret?"

"Oh, no; it will have to come out, of course. Squire Davenport has bought the business."

"The squire isn't going to keep the store, is he?" asked Ben, in amazement.

"No; though he will, no doubt, supervise it. He will employ a manager."

"Do you know who is to be the manager, Mr. Crawford?"

"Some connection of his named Kirk."

Ben whistled.

"Do you know him?" the storekeeper was led to inquire.

"I have not seen him, but he called with the squire on my mother," said Ben significantly.

"I shall be glad to recommend you to him."

"It will be of no use, Mr. Crawford," answered Ben, in a decided tone.

"I know he wouldn't employ me, nor would I work for him if he would.

Neither he nor the squire is a friend of mine."

"I did not dream of this, Ben. I am sorry if the step I have taken is going to deprive you of employment," said Mr. Crawford, who was a kind-hearted man, and felt a sincere interest in his young clerk.

"Never mind, Mr. Crawford, I am not cast down. There will be other openings for me. I am young, strong, and willing to work, and I am sure I shall find something to do."

"That's right, Ben. Cheer up, and if I hear of any good chance, rest assured that I will let you know of it."

Tom Davenport was not long in hearing of his father's bargain. He heard it with unfeigned pleasure, for it occurred to him at once that Ben, for whom he had a feeling of hatred, by no means creditable to him, would be thrown out of employment.

"Promise me, pa, that you won't employ Ben Barclay," he said.

"I have no intention of employing that boy," said his father. "Mr. Kirk has a son of his own, about Ben's age, and will, no doubt, put him into the store, unless you should choose to go in and learn the business."

"What! I become a store boy!" exclaimed Tom, in disgust. "No, thank you. I might be willing to become salesman in a large establishment in the city, but I don't care to go into a country grocery."

"It wouldn't do you any harm," said the squire, who was not quite so high-minded as his son. "However, I merely mentioned it as something you could do if you chose."

"Bah! I don't choose it," said Tom decidedly.

"Well, well; you won't have to do it."

"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.

There were some few things about the house which Ben wished to do for his mother before he went to work anywhere, and he thought this a good opportunity to do them. While in the store his time had been so taken up that he was unable to attend to them. He passed a busy day, therefore, and hardly went into the street.

Just at nightfall, as he was in the front yard, he was rather surprised to see Tom Davenport open the gate and enter.

"What does he want, I wonder?" he thought, but he said, in a civil tone: "Good-evening, Tom."

"You're out of business, ain't you?" asked Tom abruptly.

"I'm not out of work at any rate!" answered Ben.

"Why, what work are you doing?" interrogated Tom, in evident disappointment.

"I've been doing some jobs about the house, for mother."

"That won't give you a living," said Tom disdainfully.

"Very true."

"Did you expect to stay in the store?" asked Tom.

"Not after I heard that your father had bought it," answered Ben quietly.

"My father's willing to give you work," said Tom.

"Is he?" asked Ben, very much surprised.

It occurred to him that perhaps he would have a chance to remain in the store after all, and for the present that would have suited him. Though he didn't like the squire, or Mr. Kirk, he felt that he had no right, in his present circumstances, to refuse any way to earn an honest living.

"Yes," answered Tom. "I told him he'd better hire you."

"You did!" exclaimed Ben, more and more amazed. "I didn't expect that. However, go on, if you please."

"He's got three cords of wood that he wants sawed and split," said Tom, "and as I knew how poor you were I thought it would be a good chance for you."

You might have thought from Tom's manner that he was a young lord, and Ben a peasant. Ben was not angry, but amused.

"It is true," he said. "I am not rich; still, I am not as poor as you think."

He happened to have in his pocketbook the money he had brought from New York, and this he took from his pocket and displayed to the astonished Tom.

"Where did you get that money?" asked Tom, surprised and chagrined.

"I got it honestly. You see we can hold out a few days. However, I may be willing to accept the job you offer me. How much is your father willing to pay me?"

"He is willing to give you forty cents a day."

"How long does he expect me to work for that?"

"Ten hours."

"That is four cents an hour, and hard work at that. I am much obliged to you and him, Tom, for your liberal offer, but I can't accept it."

"You'll see the time when you'll be glad to take such a job," said Tom, who was personally disappointed that he would not be able to exhibit Ben as his father's hired dependent.

"You seem to know all about it, Tom," answered Ben. "I shall be at work all next week, at much higher pay, for Silas Greyson."

"How much does he pay you?"

"That is my private business, and wouldn't interest you."

"You're mighty independent for a boy in your position."

"Very likely. Won't you come in?"

"No," answered Tom ungraciously; "I've wasted too much time here already."

"I understand Tom's object in wanting to hire me," thought Ben. "He wants to order me around. Still, if the squire had been willing to pay a decent price, I would have accepted the job. I won't let pride stand in the way of my supporting mother and myself."

This was a sensible and praiseworthy resolution, as I hope my young readers will admit. I don't think much of the pride that is willing to let others suffer in order that it may be gratified.

Ben worked a full week for Farmer Greyson, and helped unload the two cords of wood, which were his wages, in his mother's yard. Then there were two days of idleness, which made him anxious. On the second day, just after supper, he met Rose Gardiner coming from the post office.

"Have you any correspondents in New York, Ben?" she asked.

"What makes you ask, Rose?"

Because the postmaster told me there was a letter for you by this evening's mail. It was mailed in New York, and was directed in a lady's hand. I hope you haven't been flirting with any New York ladies, Mr. Barclay."

"The only lady I know in New York is at least fifty years old," answered Ben, smiling.

"That is satisfactory," answered Rose solemnly. "Then I won't be jealous."

"What can the letter be?" thought Ben. "I hope it contains good news."

He hurried to the post office in a fever of excitement.

CHAPTER XVII WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED

"I hear there is a letter for me, Mr. Brown," said Ben to the postmaster, who was folding the evening papers, of which he received a parcel from the city by the afternoon train.

"Yes, Ben," answered the postmaster, smiling. "It appears to be from a lady in New York. You must have improved your time during your recent visit to the city."

"I made the acquaintance of one lady older than my mother," answered Ben. "I didn't flirt with her any."

"At any rate, I should judge that she became interested in you or she wouldn't write."

"I hope she did, for she is very wealthy," returned Ben.

The letter was placed in his hands, and he quickly tore it open.

Something dropped from it.

"What is that?" asked the postmaster.

Ben stooped and picked it up, and, to his surprise, discovered that it was a ten-dollar bill.

"That's a correspondent worth having," said Mr. Brown jocosely.

"Can't you give me a letter of introduction?"

Ben didn't answer, for he was by this time deep the letter. We will look over his shoulder and read it with him. It ran thus:

                             "No. – Madison Avenue,

                                   New York, October 5.

"My Dear Young Friend:

"Will you come to New York and call upon me? I have a very pleasant remembrance of you and the service you did me recently, and think I can employ you in other ways, to our mutual advantage. I am willing to pay you a higher salary than you are receiving in your country home, besides providing you with a home in my own house. I inclose ten dollars for expenses. Yours, with best wishes,

"Helen Hamilton"

Ben's heart beat with joyful excitement as he read this letter. It could not have come at a better time, for, as we know, he was out of employment, and, of course, earning nothing.

"Well, Ben," said the postmaster, whose curiosity was excited, is it good news?"

"I should say it was," said Ben emphatically. "I am offered a good situation in New York."

"You don't say so! How much are offered?"

"I am to get more than Mr. Crawford paid me and board in a fine house besides—a brownstone house on Madison Avenue."

"Well, I declare! You are in luck," ejaculated Mr. Brown. "What are you to do?"

"That's more than I know. Here is the letter, if you like to read it."

"It reads well. She must be a generous lady. But what will your mother say?"

"That's what I want to know," said Ben, looking suddenly sober. "I hate to leave her, but it is for my good."

"Mothers are self-sacrificing when the interests of their children are concerned."

"I know that," said Ben promptly; "and I've got one of the best mothers going."

"So you have. Every one likes and respects Mrs. Barclay."

Any boy, who is worth anything, likes to hear his mother praised, and Ben liked Mr. Brown better for this tribute to the one whom he loved best on earth. He was not slow in making his way home. He went at once to the kitchen, where his mother was engaged in mixing bread.

"What's the matter, Ben? You look excited," said Mrs. Barkley.

"So I am, mother. I am offered a position."

"Not in the store?"

"No; it is in New York."

"In New York!" repeated his mother, in a troubled voice. "It would cost you all you could make to pay your board in some cheap boarding house. If it were really going to be for your own good, I might consent to part with you, but—"

"Read that letter, mother," said Ben. "You will see that I shall have an elegant home and a salary besides. It is a chance in a thousand."

Mrs. Barclay read the letter carefully.

"Can I go, mother?" Ben asked anxiously.

"It will be a sacrifice for me to part with you," returned his mother slowly; "but I agree with you that it is a rare chance, and I should be doing wrong to stand in the way of your good fortune. Mrs. Hamilton must have formed a very good opinion of you."

"She may be disappointed in me," said Ben modestly.

"I don't think she will," said Mrs. Barclay, with a proud and affectionate glance at her boy. "You have always been a good son, and that is the best of recommendations."

"I am afraid you are too partial, mother. I shall hate to leave you alone."

"I can bear loneliness if I know you are prospering, Ben."

"And it will only be for a time, mother. When I am a young man and earning a good income, I shall want you to come and live with me."

"All in good time, Ben. How soon do you want to go?"

"I think it better to lose no time, mother. You know I have no work to keep me in Pentonville."

"But it will take two or three days to get your clothes ready."

"You can send them to me by express. I shall send you the address."

Mrs. Barclay was a fond mother, but she was also a sensible woman. She felt that Ben was right, and, though it seemed very sudden, she gave him her permission to start the next morning. Had she objected strenuously, Ben would have given up his plan, much as he desired it, for he felt that his mother had the strongest claims upon him, and he would not have been willing to run counter to her wishes.

"Where are you going, Ben?" asked his mother, as Ben put on his hat and moved toward the door.

"I thought I would like to call on Rose Gardiner to say good-by," answered Ben.

"Quite right, my son. Rose is a good friend of yours, and an excellent girl"

"I say ditto to that, mother," Ben answered warmly.

I am not going to represent Ben as being in love—he was too young for that—but, like many boys of his age, he felt a special attraction in the society of one young girl. His good taste was certainly not at fault in his choice of Rose Gardiner, who, far from being frivolous and fashionable, was a girl of sterling traits, who was not above making herself useful in the household of which she formed a part.

On his way to the home of Rose Gardiner, Ben met Tom Davenport.

"How are you getting along?" asked Tom, not out of interest, but curiosity.

"Very well, thank you."

"Have you got through helping the farmer?"

"Yes."

"It was a very long job. Have you thought better of coming to saw wood for father?"

"No; I have thought worse of it," answered Ben, smiling.

"You are too proud. Poor and proud don't agree."

"Not at all. I would have had no objection to the work. It was the pay I didn't like."

"You can't earn more than forty cents a day at anything else."

"You are mistaken. I am going to New York to-morrow to take a place, where I get board and considerable more money besides."

"Is that true?" asked Tom, looking as if he had lost his best friend.

"Quite so. The party inclosed ten dollars to pay my expenses up to the city."

"He must be a fool."

"Thank you. It happens to be a lady."

"What are you to do?"

"I don't know yet. I am sure I shall be well paid. I must ask you to excuse me now, as I am going to call on Rose Gardiner to bid her good-by."

"I dare say she would excuse you," said Tom, with a sneer.

"Perhaps so; but I wouldn't like to go without saying good-by."

"At any rate, he will be out of my way," thought Tom, "and I can monopolize Rose. I'm glad he's going."

He bade Ben an unusually civil good-night at this thought occurred to him.

CHAPTER XVIII FAREWELL TO PENTONVILLE

"I have come to say good-by, Rose," said Ben, as the young lady made her appearance.

"Good-by!" repeated Rose, in surprise. "Why, where are you going?"

"To New York."

"But you are coming back again?"

"I hope so, but only for a visit now and then. I am offered a position in the city."

"Isn't that rather sudden?" said Rose, after a pause.

Ben explained how he came to be offered employment.

"I am to receive higher pay than I did here, and a home besides," he added, in a tone of satisfaction. "Don't you think I am lucky?"

"Yes, Ben, and I rejoice in your good fortune; but I shall miss you so much," said Rose frankly.

"I am glad of that," returned Ben. "I hoped you would miss me a little. You'll go and see mother now and then, won't you? She will feel very lonely."

"You may be sure I will. It is a pity you have to go away. A great many will be sorry."

"I know someone who won't."

"Who is that?"

"Tom Davenport."

Rose smiled. She had a little idea why Tom would not regret Ben's absence.

"Tom could be spared, as well as not," she said.

"He is a strong admirer of yours, I believe," said Ben mischievously.

"I don't admire him," retorted Rose, with a little toss of her head.

Ben heard this with satisfaction, for though he was too young to be a lover, he did have a strong feeling of attraction toward Rose, and would have been sorry to have Tom step into his place.

As Ben was preparing to go, Rose said, "Wait a minute, Ben."

She left the room and went upstairs, but returned almost immediately, with a small knit purse.

"Won't you accept this, Ben?" she said. "I just finished it yesterday. It will remind you of me when you are away."

"Thank you, Rose. I shall need nothing to keep you in my remembrance, but I will value it for your sake."

"I hope you will be fortunate and fill it very soon, Ben."

So the two parted on the most friendly terms, and the next day Ben started for New York in the highest of spirits.

After purchasing his ticket, he gave place to Squire Davenport, who also called for a ticket to New York. Now, it so happened that the squire had not seen Tom since the interview of the latter with our hero, and was in ignorance of his good luck.

"Are you going to New York, Benjamin?" he asked, in surprise.

"Yes, sir."

"Isn't it rather extravagant for one in your circumstances?"

"Yes, sir; if I had no object in view."

"Have you any business in the city?"

"Yes, sir; I am going to take a place."

Squire Davenport was still more surprised, and asked particulars.

These Ben readily gave, for he was quite elated by his good fortune.