Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant by Jr. Horatio Alger (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📖

which would be five times the price Mrs Hoffman had been accustomed to receive. A dozen shirts would come to fifteen dollars, which to a family in their circumstances would be a great help.

“Thank you, sir,” said Paul. “My mother will accept the work thankfully, and will try to suit you. When shall I come for the cloth?”

“You may come to my house this evening, and I will give you a pattern, and an order for the materials on a dry goods dealer in Broadway.”

“Where do you live, sir?”

“No. —— Madison avenue, between Thirty-fourth and Thirty-fifth streets. My name is Preston. Can you remember it?”

“Yes, sir; but I will put it down to make sure.”

“Well, good-morning.”

“Good-morning, sir. I suppose you don't want a tie this morning?”

“I don't think you keep the kind I am accustomed to wear,” said Mr. Preston, smiling. “I stick to the old fashions, and wear a stock.”

The old gentleman had scarcely gone, when two boys of twelve or thirteen paused before the stand.

“That's a bully tie, Jeff!” said George, the elder of the two. “I have a good mind to buy it.”

“It won't cost much,” said Jeff. “Only twenty-five cents. But I like that one better.”

“If you buy one, I will.”

“All right,” said Jeff, whose full name was Jefferson. “We can wear them to dancing-school this afternoon.”

So the two boys bought a necktie, and this, in addition to previous sales, made six sold during the morning.

“I hope I shall do as well as I did yesterday,” thought Paul. “If I can make nine shillings every day I won't complain. It is better than selling prize-packages.”

Paul seemed likely to obtain his wish, since at twelve o'clock, when he returned home to dinner, he had sold ten ties, making rather more than half of the previous day's sales.

Mrs. Hoffman had been out once more, but met with no better success than before. There seemed to be no room anywhere for a new hand. At several places she had seen others, out of employment like herself, who were also in quest of work. The only encouragement she received was that probably in a month or six weeks business might so far improve that she could obtain work. But to Mrs. Hoffman it was a serious matter to remain idle even four weeks. She reflected that Paul's present employment was only temporary, and that he would be forced to give up his post as soon as George Barry should recover his health, which probably would be within a week or two. She tried in vain to think of some temporary employment, and determined, in case she should be unsuccessful in the afternoon, which she hardly anticipated, to consult Paul what she had better do.

Paul noticed when he came in that his mother looked more sober and thoughtful than usual.

“Have you a headache, mother?” he inquired.

“No, Paul,” she said, smiling faintly.

“Something troubles you, I am sure,” continued Paul.

“You are right, Paul,” said Mrs. Hoffman, “though I didn't mean to tell you till evening.”

“What is it?” asked Paul, anxiously.

“When I carried back the last shirts I made for Duncan & Co., they told me I couldn't have any more for a month or six weeks.”

“That will give you some time to rest, mother,” said Paul, who wanted to keep back his good news for a while.

“But I can't afford to rest, Paul.”

“You forget that I am earning money, mother. I am sure I can earn a dollar a day.”

“I know you are a good, industrious boy, Paul, and I don't know how we should get along without you. But it is necessary for me to do my part, though it is small.”

“Don't be anxious, mother; I am sure we can get along.”

“But I am not willing that the whole burden of supporting the family should come upon you. Besides, you are not sure how long you can retain your present employment.”

“I know that, mother; but something else will be sure to turn up. If I can't do anything else, I can turn bootblack, though I would prefer something else. There is no chance of my being out of work long.”

“There are fewer things for me to do,” said his mother, “but perhaps you can think of something. I shall go out this afternoon, and try my luck once more. If I do not succeed, I will consult with you this evening.”

“Suppose I tell you that I have work for you, enough to last for two or three weeks, that will pay five times as well as the work you have been doing; what would you say to that?” asked Paul, smiling.

“Are you in earnest, Paul?” asked his mother, very much surprised.

“Quite in earnest, mother. There's a gentleman up-town that wants a dozen shirts made, and is willing to pay ten shillings apiece.”

“Ten shillings! Why, that's a dollar and a quarter.”

“Of course it is. I told him I thought you would accommodate him.”

“You are sure I can get the work to do?”

“Certainly. I am to go up to his house this evening and get the pattern and an order for the materials.”

“It seems too good to be true,” said his mother. “Why, I can earn at least a dollar a day.”

“Then you will be doing as well as I am.”

“Tell me how you heard of it, Paul,” said Mrs. Hoffman.

Paul told the story of the manner in which he formed Mr. Preston's acquaintance.

“It's lucky you ran into him, Paul,” said Jimmy.

“He didn't think so at the time,” said Paul, laughing. “He said I nearly knocked the breath out of him.”

“You won't go out this afternoon, mother, will you?” asked Jimmy.

“No, it will not be necessary now; I didn't think this morning that such a piece of good luck was in store for, me.”