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Read books online » Fiction » Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger (golden son ebook TXT) 📖

Book online «Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger (golden son ebook TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger



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experience with his stepmother. The stranger listened with evident interest.

“I am not in general in favor of boys leaving home except on extreme provocation,” he said, after a pause; “but in your case, as your father seems to take part against you, I think you may be justified, especially as, at your age, you have a fair chance of making your own living.”

“I am glad you think that, sir. I have begun to wonder whether I have not acted rashly.”

“In undertaking to support yourself?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“At fourteen I was obliged to undertake what you have now before you.”

“To support yourself?”

“Yes; I was left an orphan at fourteen, with no money left me by my poor father, and no relatives who could help me.”

“How did you make out, sir?” asked Carl, feeling very much interested.

“I sold papers for a while—in Newark, New Jersey—then I got a place at three dollars a week, out of which I had to pay for board, lodging and clothes. Well, I won’t go through my history. I will only say that whatever I did I did as well as I could. I am now a man of about middle age, and I am moderately wealthy.”

“I am very much encouraged by what you tell me, sir.”

“Perhaps you don’t understand what a hard struggle I had. More than once I have had to go to bed hungry. Sometimes I have had to sleep out, but one mustn’t be afraid to rough it a little when he is young. I shouldn’t like to sleep out now, or go to bed without my supper,” and the little man laughed softly.

“Yes, sir; I expect to rough it, but if I could only get a situation, at no matter what income, I should feel encouraged.”

“You have earned no money yet?”

“Yes, sir; I earned a dollar yesterday.”

“At what kind of work?”

“Archery.”

The little man looked surprised.

“Is that a business?” he asked, curiously.

“I’ll explain how it was,” and Carl told about the contest.

“So you hit the mark?” said the little man, significantly.

Somehow, there was something in the little man’s tone that put new courage into Carl, and incited him to fresh effort.

“I wonder, sir,” he said, after a pause, “that you should be walking, when you can well afford to ride.”

The little man smiled.

“It is by advice of my physician,” he said. “He tells me I am getting too stout, and ought to take more or less exercise in the open air. So I am trying to follow his advice.”

“Are you in business near here, sir?”

“At a large town six miles distant. I may not walk all the way there, but I have a place to call at near by, and thought I would avail myself of the good chance offered to take a little exercise. I feel repaid. I have made a pleasant acquaintance.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“There is my card,” and the little man took out a business card, reading thus:

HENRY JENNINGS, FURNITURE WAREHOUSE, MILFORD.

“I manufacture my furniture in the country,” he continued, “but I ship it by special arrangements to a house in New York in which I am also interested.”

“Yes, sir, I see. Do you employ many persons in your establishment?”

“About thirty.”

“Do you think you could make room for me?”

“Do you think you would like the business?”

“I am prepared to like any business in which I can make a living.”

“That is right. That is the way to look at it. Let me think.”

For two minutes Mr. Jennings seemed to be plunged in thought. Then he turned and smiled encouragingly.

“You can come home with me,” he said, “and I will consider the matter.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Carl, gladly.

“I have got to make a call at the next house, not on business, though. There is an old schoolmate lying there sick. I am afraid he is rather poor, too. You can walk on slowly, and I will overtake you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“After walking half a mile, if I have not overtaken you, you may sit down under a tree and wait for me.”

“All right, sir.”

“Before I leave you I will tell you a secret.”

“What is it, sir?”

“The two dollars you picked up, I dropped on purpose.”

“On purpose?” asked Carl, in amazement.

“Yes; I wanted to try you, to see if you were honest.”

“Then you had noticed me?”

“Yes. I liked your appearance, but I wanted to test you.”





CHAPTER XIII. AN UNEQUAL CONTEST.

Carl walked on slowly. He felt encouraged by the prospect of work, for he was sure that Mr. Jennings would make a place for him, if possible.

“He is evidently a kind-hearted man,” Carl reflected. “Besides, he has been poor himself, and he can sympathize with me. The wages may be small, but I won’t mind that, if I only support myself economically, and get on.” To most boys brought up in comfort, not to say luxury, the prospect of working hard for small pay would not have seemed inviting. But Carl was essentially manly, and had sensible ideas about labor. It was no sacrifice or humiliation to him to become a working boy, for he had never considered himself superior to working boys, as many boys in his position would have done.

He walked on in a leisurely manner, and at the end of ten minutes thought he had better sit down and wait for Mr. Jennings. But he was destined to receive a shock. There, under the tree which seemed to offer the most inviting shelter, reclined

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