Jack's Ward; Or, The Boy Guardian by Jr. Horatio Alger (the false prince series .TXT) 📖

"Just at present," he said, "I have nothing better to offer you than the position of porter. If that will suit you, you can enter upon its duties to-morrow."

"I shall be very glad to undertake it, sir. Anything is better than idleness."

"As to the compensation, that shall be the same that you have been accustomed to earn by your trade—two dollars a day."

"I only received that in the best times," said Timothy, conscientiously.

"Your services as porter will be worth that amount, and I will cheerfully pay it. I will expect you to-morrow morning at eight, if you can be here at that time."

"I will be here promptly."

"You are married, I suppose?" said the merchant, inquiringly.

"Yes, sir; I am blessed with a good wife."

"I am glad of that. Stay a moment."

Mr. Merriam went to his desk, and presently came back with a sealed envelope.

"Give that to your wife," he said.

"Thank you, sir."

Here the interview terminated, and the cooper went home quite elated by his success. His present engagement would enable him to bridge over the dull time, until his trade revived, and save him from incurring debts, of which he had a just horror.

"You are just in time, Timothy," said Mrs. Harding, cheerfully, as he entered. "We've got an apple pudding to-day."

"I see you haven't forgotten what I like, Martha."

"There's no knowing how long you'll be able to afford puddings," said Rachel, dolefully. "To my mind it's extravagant to have meat and pudding both, when a month hence you may be in the poorhouse."

"Then," said Jack, "I wouldn't eat any if I were you, Aunt Rachel."

"Oh, if you grudge me the little I eat," said his aunt, in serene sorrow, "I will go without."

"Tut, Rachel! nobody grudges you anything here," said her brother; "and as to the poorhouse, I've got some good news to tell you that will put that thought out of your head."

"What is it?" asked Mrs. Harding, looking up brightly.

"I have found employment."

"Not at your trade?"

"No; but at something else which will pay equally well till trade revives."

Here he told the chance by which he was enabled to serve Mr. Merriam the evening previous, and then he gave an account of his visit to the merchant's countingroom, and the engagement which he had made.

"You are indeed fortunate, Timothy," said his wife, her face beaming with pleasure. "Two dollars a day, and we've got nearly the whole of the money left that came with this dear child. Why, we shall be getting rich soon!"

"Well, Rachel, have you no congratulations to offer?" asked the cooper of his sister, who, in subdued sorrow, was eating as if it gave her no pleasure, but was rather a self-imposed penance.

"I don't see anything so very fortunate in being engaged as a porter," said Rachel, lugubriously. "I heard of a porter once who had a great box fall upon him and kill him instantly; and I was reading in the Sun yesterday of another out West somewhere who committed suicide."

The cooper laughed.

"So, Rachel, you conclude that one or the other of these calamities is the inevitable lot of all who are engaged in this business?"

"You may laugh now, but it is always well to be prepared for the worst," said Rachel, oracularly.

"But it isn't well to be always looking for it, Rachel."

"It'll come whether you look for it or not," retorted his sister, sententiously.

"Then suppose we waste no time thinking about it, since, according to your admission, it's sure to come either way."

Rachel did not deign a reply, but continued to eat in serene melancholy.

"Won't you have another piece of pudding, Timothy?" asked his wife.

"I don't care if I do, Martha, it's so good," said the cooper, passing his plate. "Seems to me it's the best pudding you ever made."

"You've got a good appetite, that is all," said Mrs. Harding, modestly disclaiming the compliment.

"Apple puddings are unhealthy," observed Rachel.

"Then what makes you eat them?" asked Jack.

"A body must eat something. Besides, life is so full of sorrow, it makes little difference if it's longer or shorter."

"Won't you have another piece, Rachel?"

Aunt Rachel passed her plate, and received a second portion. Jack winked slyly, but fortunately his aunt did not observe it.

When dinner was over, the cooper thought of the sealed envelope which had been given him for his wife.

"Martha," he said, "I nearly forgot that I have something for you."

"For me?"

"Yes, from Mr. Merriam."

"But he don't know me," said Mrs. Harding, in surprise.

"At any rate, he first asked me if I was married, and then handed me this envelope, which he asked me to give to you. I am not quite sure whether I ought to allow strange gentlemen to write letters to my wife."

Mrs. Harding opened the envelope with considerable curiosity, and uttered an exclamation of surprise as a bank note fell out, and fluttered to the carpet.

"By gracious, mother!" said Jack, springing to get it, "you're in luck. It's a hundred-dollar bill."

"So it is, I declare," said his mother, joyfully. "But, Timothy, it isn't mine. It belongs to you."

"No, Martha, I have nothing to do with it. It belongs to you. You need some clothes, I am sure. Use part of it, and I will put the rest in the savings bank for you."

"I never expected to have money to invest," said Mrs. Harding. "I begin to feel like a capitalist. When you want to borrow money, Timothy, you'll know where to come."

"Merriam's a trump and no mistake," said Jack. "By the way, when you see him again, father, just mention that you've got a son. Ain't we in luck, Aunt Rachel?"