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
“Then I am very glad to assist you,” said Philip cordially.
“You must come round and see our room. Are you at leisure now?”
“Yes, Mr. Turner.”
Philip accompanied his new friend to the neatly furnished room leased by the society. He was so well pleased with its appearance that he thought he should himself like to belong to such an association, whenever he found a permanent home. At present he was only a wanderer.
“Our debt is thirty-four dollars,” said the secretary. “You may not think it large, but it's large for us.”
“I hope our entertainment will enable you to clear it off.”
“If it should it will give us new courage.”
On the evening of the next day Philip and the professor entered the hall engaged for the entertainment, and took seats on the platform.
The hall was well filled, the scale of prices being the same as at Wilkesville.
“Mr. Gray,” whispered the secretary joyfully, “it is a great success! After paying all bills the club will clear fifty dollars.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” said Philip.
The professor commenced the entertainment, and was followed by Philip.
As Philip began to play his attention was drawn to three persons who were entering the hall.
These were a lady, a little girl, and a stout gentleman, in whom Philip, almost petrified with amazement, recognized his old acquaintance, Squire Pope, of Norton, who had shown himself so anxious to provide him a home in the poor-house.
CHAPTER XXXV. SQUIRE POPE IS AMAZED.
Though Philip did not know it, it chanced that Squire Pope's only sister, Mrs. Cunningham, lived in Knoxville. She was a widow, fairly well off, with a young daughter, Carrie—a girl of twelve. Squire Pope had long thought of visiting his sister, and happening about this time to have a little business in a town near-by, he decided to carry out his long-deferred plan. He arrived by the afternoon train, in time for supper.
“I am glad you are here to-night, brother,” said Mrs. Cunningham.
“Why particularly to-night, Sister Ellen?” asked the squire.
“Because there is to be an entertainment for the benefit of the Young Men's Literary Club. It is expected to be very interesting.”
“What sort of an entertainment, Ellen?” asked the squire.
“The celebrated elocutionist, Professor Riccabocca, is to give some readings—”
“Riccabocca!” repeated the squire, in a musing tone. “I can't say I ever heard of him.”
“Nor I; but I hear he's very celebrated.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Yes, there's a young musician going to play. He is said to be wonderful. He plays on the violin.”
“He's a very handsome boy,” said Carrie enthusiastically. “He's staying at the hotel. I saw him this afternoon when I was passing.”
“So he's good-looking, is he, Carrie?” asked the squire, laughing.
“He's ever so good-looking,” answered Carrie emphatically.
“Then we must certainly go, for Carrie's sake,” said the squire.
Squire Pope had not the slightest idea that the young musician, about whom his niece spoke so enthusiastically, was the boy whom he had so recently persecuted.
If Carrie had mentioned his name, the secret would have been out, but she had not yet heard it.
In honor of her brother's arrival, Mrs. Cunningham prepared a more elaborate supper than usual, and to this it was owing that the three entered the hall late, just as Philip was about to commence playing.
The squire and his companions were obliged to take seats some distance away from the platform, and as his eyesight was poor, he didn't immediately recognize as an old acquaintance the boy who was standing before the audience with his violin in his hand.
“That's he! That's the young violin-player!” whispered Carrie, in a tone of delight. “Isn't he handsome, uncle!”
“Wait till I get my glasses on,” said the squire, fumbling in his pocket for his spectacle-case.
Adjusting his glasses, Squire Pope directed a glance at the stage. He instantly recognized Philip, and his surprise was boundless. He gave a sudden start.
“By gracious, I couldn't have believed it!” he ejaculated.
“Couldn't have believed what, brother?” asked Mrs. Cunningham.
“I know that boy!” he said, in a tone of excitement.
“You know him, uncle?” said Carrie, delighted. “Then you must introduce me to him. I want to meet him ever so much. Where did you ever see him?”
“Where did I see him? I'm his guardian. He ran away from me a little more than a week since, and I never knew where he went.”
“You the guardian of the wonderful boy-player?” said Carrie, astonished. “Isn't it strange?”
“His father died a short time since and left him in my care,” said the squire, not scrupling to make a misstatement. “But I'll tell you more about it when the performance is over.”
When Philip first saw Squire Pope entering the hall it disconcerted him, but he reflected that the squire really had no authority over him, and consequently he had nothing to fear from him.
Should his pretended guardian make any effort to recover him, he was resolved to make a desperate resistance, and even, if necessary, to invoke the help of the law.
Meanwhile, his pride stimulated him to play his best, and the hearty applause of the audience when he had finished his piece encouraged him.
As he was bowing his thanks he could not help directing a triumphant glance at Squire Pope, who was carefully scrutinizing him through his gold-bowed spectacles.
He was glad that the squire had a chance to see for himself that he was well able to make his own way, with the help of the violin of which the Norton official had attempted to deprive him.
In truth, Squire Pope, who knew little of Philip's playing, except that he did play, was amazed to find him so proficient. Instead, however, of concluding that a boy so gifted was abundantly able to “paddle his own canoe,” as the saying is, he was the more resolved to carry him back to Norton, and to take into his
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