Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life by Jr. Horatio Alger (english novels to improve english txt) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life by Jr. Horatio Alger (english novels to improve english txt) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
This was a welcome proposition, as the sun was shining brightly, and there was little to please a child's fancy in Peg's shabby apartment.
“I am going to let you do a little shopping,” said Peg. “There are various things that we want. Go and get your bonnet.”
“It's in the closet,” said Ida.
“O yes, where I put it. That was before I could trust you.”
She went to the closet, and came back bringing the bonnet and shawl. As soon as they were ready, they emerged into the street. Ida was glad to be in the open air once more.
“This is a little better than being shut up in the closet, isn't it?” said Peg.
Ida owned that it was.
“You see you'll have a very good time of it, if you do as I bid you. I don't want to do you any harm. I want you to be happy.”
So they walked along together, until Peg, suddenly pausing, laid her hand on Ida's arm, and pointing to a shop near by, said to her, “Do you see that shop?”
“Yes,” said Ida.
“Well, that is a baker's shop. And now I'll tell you what to do. I want you to go in, and ask for a couple of rolls. They come at three cents apiece. Here's some money to pay for them. It is a silver dollar, as you see. You will give this to them, and they will give you back ninety-four cents in change. Do you understand'?”
“Yes,” said Ida; “I think I do.”
“And if they ask if you haven't anything smaller, you will say no.”
“Yes, Aunt Peg.”
“I will stay just outside. I want you to go in alone, so that you will get used to doing without me.”
Ida entered the shop. The baker, a pleasant-looking man, stood behind the counter.
“Well, my dear, what is it?” he asked.
“I should like a couple of rolls.”
“For your mother, I suppose,” said the baker, sociably.
“No,” said Ida; “for the woman I board with.”
“Ha! a silver dollar, and a new one, too,” said the baker, receiving the coin tendered in payment. “I shall have to save that for my little girl.”
Ida left the shop with the two rolls and the silver change.
“Did he say anything about the money?” asked Peg, a little anxiously.
“He said he should save it for his little girl.”
“Good,” said the woman, approvingly; “you've done well.”
Ida could not help wondering what the baker's disposal of the dollar had to do with her doing well, but she was soon thinking of other things.
CHAPTER XIII. BAD COIN.
THE baker introduced to the reader's notice in the last chapter was named Crump. Singularly enough Abel Crump, for this was his name, was a brother of Timothy Crump, the cooper. In many respects he resembled his brother. He was an excellent man, exemplary in all the relations of life, and had a good heart. He was in very comfortable circumstances, having accumulated a little property by diligent attention to his business. Like his brother, Abel Crump had married, and had one child, now about the size of Ida, that is, nine years old. She had received the name of Ellen.
When the baker closed his shop for the night he did not forget the silver dollar which he had received, or the disposal which he told Ida he should make of it.
He selected it carefully from the other coins, and slipped it into his vest pocket.
Ellen ran to meet him as he entered the house.
“What do you think I have brought you, Ellen?” said her father, smiling.
“Do tell me quick,” said the child, eagerly.
“What if I should tell you it was a silver dollar?”
“Oh, father, thank you,” and Ellen ran to show it to her mother.
“You got it at the shop?” asked his wife.
“Yes,” said the baker; “I received it from a little girl about the size of Ellen, and I suppose it was that gave me the idea of bringing it home to her.”
“Was she a pretty little girl?” asked Ellen, interested.
“Yes, she was very attractive. I could not help feeling interested in her. I hope she will come again.”
This was all that passed concerning Ida at that time. The thought of her would have passed from the baker's mind, if it had not been recalled by circumstances.
Ellen, like most girls of her age, when in possession of money, could not be easy until she had spent it. Her mother advised her to lay it away, or perhaps deposit it in some Savings Bank; but Ellen preferred present gratification.
Accordingly one afternoon, when walking out with her mother, she persuaded her to go into a toy shop, and price a doll which she saw in the window. The price was sixty-two cents. Ellen concluded to take it, and tendered the silver dollar in payment.
The shopman took it into his hand, glancing at it carelessly at first, then scrutinizing it with considerable attention.
“What is the matter?” inquired Mrs. Crump. “It is good, isn't it?”
“That is what I am doubtful of,” was the reply.
“It is new.”
“And that is against it. If it were old, it would be more likely to be genuine.”
“But you wouldn't (sic) comdemn a piece because it was new?”
“Certainly not; but the fact is, there have been lately many cases where spurious dollars have been circulated, and I suspect this is one of them. However, I can soon test it.”
“I wish you, would,” said Mrs. Crump. “My husband took it at his shop, and will be likely to take more unless he is placed on his guard.”
The shopman retired a moment, and then reappeared.
“It is as I thought,” he said. “The coin is not good.”
“And can't I pass it, then?” said Ellen, disappointed.
“I am afraid not.”
Comments (0)