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. Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best romantic novels to read TXT) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best romantic novels to read TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“I should like to see what sort of a house Uncle Benjamin lives in,” thought Herbert.
There was nothing to prevent his gratifying this wish, as he had plenty of time on his hands. If he had had more money, he would have taken the horse cars, but in his present circumstances this would be imprudent. He decided, as it was only five o'clock, to take a leisurely walk up Broadway, noticing his uncle's place of business on the way.
A few minutes brought him in front of the latter—an imposing-looking building, with all the appearance of belonging to a prosperous merchant. Appearances are deceitful, to be sure, and no doubt there are some merchants, as outwardly prosperous, who might profitably change places with their head clerks. But Herbert naturally judged from appearances, and he could not help contrasting in his mind his own condition with that of his uncle's. But he was too manly to be despondent on this account, and thought rather, “I am young and ready to work, Some time, if I am patient and work hard. I may be as well off as Uncle Benjamin.” The thought of applying to him for assistance was as far off as ever.
He pursued his way uptown, finding it a longer walk than he anticipated, arriving at half-past five at Union Square. At the upper end he turned off, and went down Seventeenth Street.
Carefully noting the numbers, he at length found his uncle's house. It was a handsome, substantial city mansion, and seemed appropriate as the residence of a rich New York merchant.
“So my uncle lives here,” thought Herbert, and there rose involuntarily in his mind the memory of the humble Western home where he and his mother had struggled against poverty, while his uncle, who was evidently so amply provided with the world's goods, coldly held aloof, and forbore to offer the assistance which he could so well afford.
“If I had a sister, I could never treat her like that,” thought Herbert, indignantly. “He would not help my mother. I will starve before I ask him to help me.”
He paused a moment on the opposite side of the street to look at his uncle's house. While he was standing there, a boy of about his own age, apparently, came down the street whistling, and ascended the steps of his uncle's house.
“I wonder if that is my cousin Tom,” thought Herbert. He knew the names of his cousins from his mother, though he had never seen them.
While he looked, he was struck by something familiar in the appearance of this boy. Where had he seen him before?
All at once it flashed upon him. It was the same boy he had seen in the counting-room of Godfrey He knew him by his dandified dress and his face, which he had noticed at the time.
This was certainly a strange coincidence, that his cousin, for it was doubtless he, should be the first boy he encountered after reaching New York. It would be still stranger if Mr. Godfrey should offer him employment, and he should find himself a clerk in the same office as the son of his rich uncle. But it was by no means certain that he would be lucky enough to obtain such employment. Therefore there was no need of wondering whether, under such circumstances, Tom would recognize him as a relation.
Herbert walked thoughtfully back, and on reaching his room ate the remainder of the loaf which he had purchased at the baker's in the morning. It was not a very luxurious repast, but his walk had given him an appetite, and he had no difficulty in disposing of all that was left.
CHAPTER XXV GETTING A SITUATION
The next morning Herbert reported himself at his new boarding place. He found the fare very far from first-class, while his fellow-boarders appeared at the table mostly in shirt-sleeves, and were evidently workingmen. Our hero would have preferred a greater degree of neatness both in the table and in the guests, but he felt that he would be lucky, if he should find himself able to pay his expenses even here. He was not to be daunted by little annoyances, but looked for compensation in the future.
He waited impatiently for the next day, when Mr. Godfrey would return. Upon the success of the interview with him much depended.
At length it came, and Herbert once more set out for the warehouse on Pearl Street. He entered without question, and made his way to the counting-room. Looking through the glass door, he saw his cousin—whom he surveyed with new interest now that he knew the relationship—and the bookkeeper. But, besides these, there was an elderly gentleman, rather stout, with a pleasant face, the expression of which reassured him.
“Is Mr. Godfrey in?” he asked, on entering, with a look of inquiry at the gentleman just described.
“That is my name. What can I do for you?” said Mr. Godfrey, turning towards him.
“I have a letter for you, sir,” said Herbert, producing it from his pocket.
Mr. Godfrey held out his hand for it, and ran his eye rapidly over its contents.
“So your name is Herbert Mason?” he said, raising his eyes after finishing it.
“Yes, sir.”
At the mention of this name, Tom Stanton, whose curiosity had led him to listen to the conversation, wheeled rapidly round on his stool and surveyed our hero with intense curiosity. He knew that Herbert Mason was the name of his cousin. Could it be possible that this boy was the cousin whom he had never seen? A little later, and he was convinced of it.
“You have just come from Ohio, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir.”
“My friend, Mr. Carroll, writes me that you were instrumental in saving him from being robbed while acting as his escort to Philadelphia.”
“It wasn't worth mentioning,” said Herbert modestly.
Mr. Godfrey noticed his modest tone, and it pleased him—modesty not being an unvarying characteristic of young America.
“My friend refers to it as an important service. I should like to know the particulars. Mr. Carroll is a connection of mine, and I am naturally interested in all that relates to him.”
In reply Herbert gave a brief, but clear and intelligent account of the attempted burglary, passing over his own achievement as lightly as possible. But it was easy to infer, even from the little he said, that he had acted with bravery and self-possession.
“You behaved in a very creditable manner,” said Mr. Godfrey, approvingly. “Many boys would have lost their self-possession. You have come to New York in search of employment, Mr. Carroll writes me?”
“Yes, sir.”
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