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.