Harry STUMBLES upon an acquaintance.
After supper Harry went round to the
tavern to see about his trunk. A group of young
men were in the bar-room, some of whom looked up as
he entered. Among these was Luke Harrison, who
was surprised and by no means pleased to see his creditor.
Harry recognized him at the same instant, and said,
“How are you, Luke?”
“Is that you, Walton?”
said Luke. “What brings you to Centreville?
Professor Henderson isn’t here, is he?”
“No; I have left him.”
“Oh, you’re out of a job,
are you?” asked Luke, in a tone of satisfaction,
for we are apt to dislike those whom we have injured,
and for this reason he felt by no means friendly.
“No, I’m not,” said
Harry, quietly. “I’ve found work
in Centreville.”
“Gone back to pegging, have
you? Whose shop are you in?”
“I am in a different business.”
“You don’t say! What is it?”
asked Luke, with some curiosity.
“I’m in the office of
the ‘Centreville Gazette.’ I’m
going to learn the printing business.”
“You are? Why, I’ve
got a friend in the office,—John Clapp.
He never told me about your being there.”
“He didn’t know I was
coming. I only went to work this afternoon.”
“So you are the printer’s
devil?” said Luke, with a slight sneer.
“I believe so,” answered our hero, quietly.
“Do you get good pay?”
“Not much at first. However,
I can get along with what money I have, and what
is due me.”
Luke Harrison understood the last
allusion, and turned away abruptly. He had no
wish to pay up the money which he owed Harry, and for
this reason was sorry to see him in the village.
He feared, if the conversation were continued, Harry
would be asking for the money, and this would be disagreeable.
At this moment John Clapp entered
the bar-room. He nodded slightly to Harry, but
walked up to Luke, and greeted him cordially.
There were many points of resemblance between them,
and this drew them into habits of intimacy.
“Will you have something to
drink, Harrison?” said Clapp.
“I don’t mind if I do,” answered
Luke, with alacrity.
They walked up to the bar, and they
were soon pledging each other in a fiery fluid which
was not very likely to benefit either of them.
Meanwhile Harry gave directions about his trunk, and
left the room.
“So you’ve got a new ‘devil’
in your office,” said Luke, after draining his
glass.
“Yes. He came this afternoon. How
did you hear?”
“He told me.”
“Do you know him?” asked Clapp, in some
surprise.
“Yes. I know him as well as I want to.”
“What sort of a fellow is he?”
“Oh, he’s a sneak—one
of your pious chaps, that ’wants to be an angel,
and with the angels stand.’”
“Then he’s made a mistake in turning ‘devil,’”
said Clapp.
“Good for you!” said Luke,
laughing. “You’re unusually brilliant
to-night, Clapp.”
“So he’s a saint, is he?”
“He set up for one; but I don’t
like his style myself. He’s as mean as
dirt. Why I knew him several months, and he never
offered to treat in all that time. He’s
as much afraid of spending a cent as if it were a
dollar.”
“He won’t have many dollars
to spend just at present. He’s working
for his board.”
“Oh, he’s got money saved
up,” said Luke. “Fellows like him
hang on to a cent when they get it. I once asked
him to lend me a few dollars, just for a day or two,
but he wouldn’t do it. I hate such mean
fellows.”
“So do I. Will you have a cigar?”
“I’ll treat this time,”
said Luke, who thought it polite to take his turn
in treating once to his companion’s four or five
times.
“Thank you. From what
you say, I am sorry Anderson has taken the fellow
into the office.”
“You needn’t have much to say to him.”
“I shan’t trouble myself
much about him. I didn’t like his looks
when I first set eyes on him. I suppose old Mother
Anderson will like him. She couldn’t abide
my smoking, and he won’t trouble her that way.”
“So; he’s too mean to buy the cigars.”
“He said he couldn’t afford it.”
“That’s what it comes
to. By the way, Clapp, when shall we take another
ride?”
“I can get away nest Monday afternoon, at three.”
“All right. I’ll
manage to get off at the same time. We’ll
go to Whiston and take supper at the hotel.
It does a fellow good to get off now and then.
It won’t cost more than five dollars apiece
altogether.”
“We’ll get the carriage
charged. The fact is, I’m little low on
funds.”
“So am I, but it won’t
matter. Griffin will wait for his pay.”
While Harry’s character waa
being so unfavorably discussed, he was taking a walk
by himself, observing with interest the main features
of his new home. He had been here before with
Professor Henderson, but had been too much occupied
at that time to get a very clear idea of Centreville,
nor had it then the interest for him which it had
acquired since. He went upon a hill overlooking
the village, and obtained an excellent view from its
summit. It was a pleasant, well-built village
of perhaps three thousand inhabitants, with outlying
farms and farm-houses. Along the principal streets
the dwellings and stores were closely built, so as
to make it seem quite city-like. It was the
shire town of the county, and being the largest place
in the neighborhood, country people for miles around
traded at its stores. Farmers’ wives came
to Centreville to make purchases, just as ladies living
within a radius of thirty miles visit New York and
Boston, for a similar purpose. Altogether, therefore,
Centreville was quite a lively place, and a town of
considerable local importance. The fact that
it had a weekly paper of its own, contributed to bring
it into notice. Nor was that all. Situated
on a little hillock was a building with a belfry, which
might have been taken for a church but for a play-ground
near by, which indicated that it had a different character.
It was in fact the Prescott Academy, so called from
the name of its founder, who had endowed it with a
fund of ten thousand dollars, besides erecting the
building at his own expense on land bought for the
purpose. This academy also had a local reputation,
and its benefits were not confined to the children
of Centreville. There were about twenty pupils
from other towns who boarded with the Principal or
elsewhere in the town, and made up the whole number
of students in attendance—about eighty
on an average.
Standing on the eminence referred
to, Harry’s attention was drawn to the Academy,
and he could not help forming the wish that he, too,
might share in its advantages.
“There is so much to learn,
and I know so little,” he thought.
But he did not brood over the poverty
which prevented him from gratifying his desire.
He knew it would do no good, and he also reflected
that knowledge may be acquired in a printing office
as well as within the walls of an academy or college.
“As soon as I get well settled,”
he said to himself, “I mean to get some books
and study a little every day. That is the way
Franklin did. I never can be an editor, that’s
certain, without knowing more than I do now.
Before I am qualified to teach others, I must know
something myself.”
Looking at the village which lay below
him, Harry was disposed to congratulate himself on
his new residence.
“It looks like a pleasant place,”
he said to himself, “and when I get a little
acquainted, I shall enjoy myself very well, I am sure.
Of course I shall feel rather lonely just at first.”
He was so engrossed by his thoughts
that he did not take heed to his steps, and was only
reminded of his abstraction by his foot suddenly coming
in contact with a boy who was lying under a tree, and
pitching headfirst over him.
“Holloa!” exclaimed the
latter, “what are you about? You didn’t
take me for a foot-ball, did you?”
“I beg your pardon,” said
Harry, jumping up in some confusion. “I
was so busy thinking that I didn’t see you.
I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Nothing serious. Didn’t you hurt
yourself?”
“I bumped my head a little,
but it only struck the earth. If it had been
a stone, it might have been different. I had
no idea there was any one up here except myself.”
“It was very kind of you to
bow so low to a perfect stranger,” said the
other, his eyes twinkling humorously. “I
suppose it would only be polite for me to follow your
example.”
“I’ll excuse you,” said Harry laughing.
“Thank you. That takes
a great burden off my mind. I don’t like
to be outdone in politeness, but really I shouldn’t
like to tumble over you. My head may be softer
than yours. There’s one thing clear.
We ought to know each other. As you’ve
taken the trouble to come up here, and stumble over
me, I really feel as if we ought to strike up a friendship.
What do you say?”
“With all my heart,” said our hero.