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. The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way by Jr. Horatio Alger (i have read the book TXT) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way by Jr. Horatio Alger (i have read the book TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“I hope so,” answered Philip politely.
He could not help thinking that the professor was rather self-conceited, and he hardly thought it in good taste for him to refer so boastfully to his genius.
“I wish you, Mr. Gray, to assist me in my project,” continued the professor.
“How can I do so, sir?” inquired Philip.
“Let me tell you. I propose that we enter into a professional partnership, that we give an entertainment partly musical, partly dramatic. I will draw up a program, including some of my most humorous recitations and impersonations, while interspersed among them will be musical selections contributed by yourself. Do you comprehend?”
“Yes,” answered Philip, nodding.
“And what do you think of it?”
“I think well of it,” replied the boy-musician.
He did think well of it. It might not draw a large audience, this mixed entertainment, but it would surely pay something; and it would interfere with no plans of his own, for, in truth, he had none.
“Then you will cooperate with me?” said the professor.
“Yes, professor.”
“Give me your hand!” exclaimed Riccabocca dramatically. “Mr. Gray, it is a perfect bonanza of an idea. I may tell you, in confidence, I was always a genius for ideas. Might I ask a favor of you?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Give me a touch of your quality. Let me hear you play.”
Philip drew his violin from its case and played for his new professional partner “The Carnival of Venice,” with variations—the same which had been received with so much favor the evening previous.
Professor Riccabocca listened attentively, and was evidently agreeably surprised. He was not a musician, but he saw that Philip was a much better player than he had anticipated, and this, of course, was likely to improve their chances of pecuniary success.
“You are a splendid performer,” he said enthusiastically. “You shall come out under my auspices and win fame. I predict for you a professional triumph.”
“Thank you,” said Philip, gratified by this tribute from a man of worldly experience. “I hope you will prove a true prophet.”
“And now, Mr. Gray, let us proceed on our way. We must get lodgings in Wilkesville, and make arrangements for our entertainment. I feel new courage, now that I have obtained so able a partner. Wilkesville little knows what is in store for her. We shall go, see, and conquer!”
An hour later Philip and his new partner entered Wilkesville.
CHAPTER XXV. A CHANGE OF NAME.
Wilkesville was an inland city, of from fifteen to twenty thousand inhabitants.
As Philip and the professor passed along the principal street, they saw various stores of different kinds, with here and there a large, high, plain-looking structure, which they were told was used for the manufacture of shoes.
“Wilkesville will give us a large audience,” he said, in a tone of satisfaction.
“I hope so,” said our hero.
“Hope so? I know so!” said the professor confidently. “The town is full of young men, employed in shoe-making. They are fond of amusement, and they will gladly seize an opportunity of patronizing a first-class entertainment like ours.”
The professor's reasoning seemed good, but logic sometimes fails, and Philip was not quite so sanguine. He said nothing, however, to dampen the ardor of his partner.
“Let me see,” said the professor, pausing, “yonder stands the Wilkesville Hotel. We had better put up there.”
It was a brick structure of considerable size, and seemed to have some pretensions to fashion.
“Do you know how much they charge?” asked Philip prudently.
“No; I neither know nor care,” answered Professor Riccabocca loftily.
“But,” said Philip, “I haven't much money.”
“Nor I,” admitted Riccabocca. “But it is absolutely necessary for us to stop at a first-class place. We must not let the citizens suppose that we are tramps or vagabonds. They will judge us by our surroundings.”
“There is something in that,” said Philip. “But suppose we don't succeed!”
“Succeed? We must succeed!” said the professor, striking an attitude. “In the vocabulary of youth, there's no such word as 'fail'! Away with timid caution! Our watchword be success!”
“Of course, you have much more experience than I,” said Philip.
“Certainly I have! We must keep up appearances. Be guided by me, and all will come right.”
Philip reflected that they could not very well make less than their expenses, and accordingly he acceded to the professor's plans. They entered the hotel, and Professor Riccabocca, assuming a dignified, important step, walked up to the office. “Sir,” said he, to the clerk, “my companion and myself would like an apartment, one eligibly located, and of ample size.”
“You can be accommodated, sir,” answered the young man politely. “Will you enter your names?”
Opening the hotel register, the elocutionist, with various flourishes, entered, this name: “Professor Lorenzo Riccabocca, Elocutionist and Dramatic Reader.”
“Shall I enter your name?” he asked of Philip.
“If you please.”
This was the way Professor Riccabocca complied with his request: “Philip de Gray, the Wonderful Boy-musician.”
He turned the book, so that the clerk could see the entries.
“We propose to give an entertainment in Wilkesville,” he said.
“I am glad to hear it,” said the clerk politely.
“After dinner I will consult you as to what steps to take. Is there anything in the way of amusement going on in town this evening?”
“Yes, there is a concert, chiefly of home-talent, in Music Hall. There is nothing announced for to-morrow evening.”
“Then we will fix upon to-morrow evening. It will give us more time to get out hand-bills, etc. Is there a printing-office in town?”
“Oh, yes, sir. We have a daily paper.”
“Is the office near at hand?”
“Yes, sir. It is on the corner of the next street.”
Comments (0)