Helping Himself

GRANT TAKES A DECISIVE STEP

Grant came home a messenger of good tidings, as his beaming face plainly showed.  His mother could hardly believe in her good fortune, when Grant informed her that he had sold the pearls for four hundred dollars.

“Why, that will pay up all your father’s debts,” she said, “and we shall once more feel independent.”

“And with a good reserve fund besides,” suggested Grant.

On Saturday evening he called on Mr. Clifton, and received the balance of the purchase money.  On Monday, with a little list of creditors, and his pocket full of money, he made a round of calls, and paid up everybody, including Mr. Tudor.

“I told you the bill would be paid, Mr. Tudor,” he said, quietly, to the grocer.

“You mustn’t feel hard on me on account of my pressing you, Grant,” said the grocer, well pleased, in a conciliatory tone.  “You see, I needed money to pay my bills.”

“You seemed to think my father didn’t mean to pay you,” said Grant, who could not so easily get over what he had considered unfriendly conduct on the part of Mr. Tudor.

“No, I didn’t.  Of course I knew he was honest, but all the same I needed the money.  I wish all my customers was as honest as your folks.”

With this Grant thought it best to be contented.  The time might come again when they would require the forbearance of the grocer; but he did not mean that it should be so if he could help it.  For he was more than ever resolved to give up the project of going to college.  The one hundred and fifty dollars which remained after paying the debts would tide them over a year, but his college course would occupy four; and then there would be three years more of study to fit him for entering a profession, and so there would be plenty of time for the old difficulties to return.  If the parish would increase kis father’s salary by even a hundred dollars, they might get along; but there was such a self-complacent feeling in the village that Mr. Thornton was liberally paid, that he well knew there was no chance of that.

Upon this subject he had more than one earnest conversation with his mother.

“I should be sorry to have you leave home,” she said; “but I acknowledge the force of your reasons.”

“I shouldn’t be happy at college, mother,” responded Grant, “if I thought you were pinched at home.”

“If you were our only child, Grant, it would be different.”

“That is true; but there are Frank and Mary who would suffer.  If I go to work I shall soon be able to help you take care of them.”

“You are a good and unselfish boy, Grant,” said his mother.

“I don’t know about that, mother; I am consulting my own happiness as well as yours.”

“Yet you would like to go to college?”

“If we had plenty of money, not otherwise.  I don’t want to enjoy advantages at the expense of you all.”

“Your Uncle Godfrey will be very angry,” said Mrs. Thornton, thoughtfully.

“I suppose he will, and I shall be sorry for it.  I am grateful to him for his good intentions toward me, and I have no right to expect that he will feel as I do about the matter.  If he is angry, I shall be sorry, but I don’t think it ought to influence me.”

“You must do as you decide to be best, Grant.  It is you who are most interested.  But suppose you make up your mind to enter upon a business career, what chance have you of obtaining a place?”

“I shall call upon Mr. Reynolds, and see if he has any place for me.”

“Who is Mr. Reynolds?” asked his mother, in some surprise.

“I forgot that I didn’t tell you of the gentleman whose acquaintance I made on my way up to the city.  He is a Wall Street broker.  His attention was drawn to me by something that he heard, and he offered to help me, if he could, to get employment.”

“It would cost something to go to New York, and after all there is no certainty that he could help you,” said Mrs. Thornton, cautiously.

“That is true, mother, but I think he would do something for me.”

However Grant received a summons to New York on other business.  Mrs. Simpson, as she called herself, though she had no right to the name, was brought up for trial, and Grant was needed as a witness.  Of course his expenses were to be paid.  He resolved to take this opportunity to call at the office of Mr. Reynolds.

I do not propose to speak of Mrs. Simpson’s trial.  I will merely say that she was found guilty of the charge upon which she had been indicted, and was sentenced to a term of imprisonment.

When Grant was released from his duties as witness, he made his way to Wall Street, or rather New Street, which branches out from the great financial thoroughfare, and had no difficulty in finding the office of Mr. Reynolds.

“Can I see Mr. Reynolds?” he asked of a young man, who was writing at a desk.

“Have you come to deliver stock?  If so, I will take charge of it.”

“No,” answered Grant; “I wish to see him personally.”

“He is at the Stock Exchange just at present.  If you will take a seat, he will be back in twenty minutes, probably.”

Grant sat down, and in less than the time mentioned, Mr. Reynolds entered the office.  The broker, who had a good memory for faces, at once recognized our hero.

“Ha, my young friend from the country,” he said; “would you like to see me?”

“When you are at leisure, sir,” answered Grant, well pleased at the prompt recognition.

“You will not have to wait long.  Amuse yourself as well as you can for a few minutes.”

Promptness was the rule in Mr. Reynolds’ office.  Another characteristic of the broker was, that he was just as polite to a boy as to his best customer.  This is, I am quite aware, an unusual trait, and, therefore, the more to be appreciated when we meet with it.

Presently Mr. Reynolds appeared at the door of his inner office, and beckoned to Grant to enter.

“Take a seat, my young friend,” he said; “and now let me know what I can do for you.”

“When I met you in the cars,” said Grant, “you invited me, if I ever wanted a position, to call upon you, and you would see if you could help me.”

“Very true, I did.  Have you made up your mind to seek a place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are your parents willing you should come to New York?”

“Yes, sir.  That is, my mother is willing, and my father will agree to whatever she decides to be best.”

“So far so good.  I wouldn’t engage any boy who came against his parents’ wishes.  Now let me tell you that you have come at a very favorable time.  I have had in my employ for two years the son of an old friend, who has suited me in every respect; but now he is to go abroad with his father for a year, and I must supply his place.  You shall have the place if you want it.”

“Nothing would suit me better,” said Grant, joyfully.  “Do you think I would be competent to fulfill the duties?”

“Harry Becker does not leave me for two weeks.  He will initiate you into your duties, and if you are as quick as I think you are at learning, that will be sufficient.”

“When shall I come, sir?”

“Next Monday morning.  It is now Thursday, and that will give you time to remove to the city.”

“Perhaps I had better come Saturday, so as to get settled in a boarding-house before going to work.  Could you recommend some moderate priced boarding-house, Mr. Reynolds?”

“For the first week you may come to my house as my guest.  That will give you a chance to look about you.  I live at 58 West 3-th Street.  You had better take it down on paper.  You can come any time on Monday.  That will give you a chance to spend Sunday at home, and you need not go to work till Tuesday.”

Grant expressed his gratitude in suitable terms, and left the office elated at his good fortune.  A surprise awaited him.  At the junction of Wall and New Streets he came suddenly upon a large-sized bootblack, whose face looked familiar.

“Tom Calder!” he exclaimed.  “Is that you?”