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 Errand Boy; Or, How Phil Brent Won Success by Jr. Horatio Alger (i like reading books .TXT) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «The Errand Boy; Or, How Phil Brent Won Success by Jr. Horatio Alger (i like reading books .TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“I am overjoyed!” he said. “I have never been able to feel toward the boy whom you call Jonas as a father should. He was very distasteful to me.”
“It was an extraordinary deception on the part of Mrs. Brent,” said Mr. Carter thoughtfully.
“She is a very unprincipled woman,” said Mr. Granville. “Even now that matters have come right, I find it hard to forgive her.”
“You do not know all the harm she has sought to do your son. The sum of five thousand dollars was left him by Mr. Brent, and she suppressed the will.”
“Good heavens! is this true?”
“We have the evidence of it.”
The next day an important interview was held at the Palmer House. Mrs. Brent was forced to acknowledge the imposition she had practiced upon Mr. Granville.
“What could induce you to enter into such a wicked conspiracy?” asked Mr. Granville, shocked.
“The temptation was strong—I wished to make my son rich. Besides, I hated Philip.”
“It is well your wicked plan has been defeated; it might have marred my happiness forever.”
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked coolly, but not without anxiety.
It was finally settled that the matter should be hushed up. Philip wished to give up the sum bequeathed him by Mr. Brent; but to this Mr. Granville objected, feeling that it would constitute a premium on fraud. Besides, Mrs. Brent would have the residue of the estate, amounting to nearly ten thousand dollars. Being allowed to do what he chose with this money, he gave it in equal portions to Tommy Kavanagh and Mr. Raynor, who had informed him of the existence of Mr. Brent's will.
Mrs. Brent decided not to go back to Planktown. She judged that the story of her wickedness would reach that village and make it disagreeable for her. She opened a small millinery store in Chicago, and is doing fairly well. But Jonas is her chief trouble, as he is lazy and addicted to intemperate habits. His chances of success and an honorable career are small.
“How can I spare you, Philip?” said Mr. Carter regretfully. “I know your father has the best right to you, but I don't like to give you up.”
“You need not,” said Mr. Granville. “I propose to remove to New York; but in the summer I shall come to my estate near Chicago, and hope, since the house is large enough, that I may persuade you and your niece, Mrs. Forbush, to be my guests.”
This arrangement was carried out. Mrs. Forbush and her daughter are the recognized heirs of Mr. Carter, who is wholly estranged from the Pitkins. He ascertained, through a detective, that the attack upon Philip by the man who stole from him the roll of bills was privately instigated by Mr. Pitkin himself, in the hope of getting Philip into trouble. Mr. Carter, thereupon, withdrew his capital from the firm, and Mr. Pitkin is generally supposed to be on the verge of bankruptcy. At any rate, his credit is very poor, and there is a chance that the Pitkins may be reduced to comparative poverty.
“I won't let Lavinia suffer,” said Uncle Oliver; “if the worst comes to the worst, I will settle a small income, say twelve hundred dollars, on her, but we can never be friends.”
As Phil grew older—he is now twenty-one—it seems probable that he and Mr. Carter may be more closely connected, judging from his gallant attentions to Julia Forbush, who has developed into a charming young lady. Nothing would suit Mr. Carter better, for there is no one who stands higher in his regard than Philip Granville, the Errand Boy.
FRED SARGENT'S REVENGE.
Fred Sargent, upon this day from which my story dates, went to the head of his Latin class, in the high school of Andrewsville. The school was a fine one, the teachers strict, the classes large, the boys generally gentlemanly, and the moral tone pervading the whole, of the very best character.
To lead a class in a school like this was an honor of which any boy might have been proud; and Fred, when he heard his name read off at the head of the roll, could have thrown up his well-worn Latin grammar, which he happened to have in his hand just at that moment, and hurrahed. It was quite a wonder to him afterward that he did not.
As a class, boys are supposed to be generous. I really don't know whether they deserve to be considered so or not, but some four or five only in this large school envied Fred. The rest would probably have hurrahed with him; for Fred was a “capital good fellow,” and quite a favorite.
“Bully for you!” whispered Ned Brown, his right-hand neighbor; but Ned was instantly disgraced, the eye of the teacher catching the words as they dropped from his lips.
When school was over several of the boys rushed to the spot where Fred—his cap in his hand, and his dark hair blowing about every way—was standing.
“I say,” said James Duncan, “I thought you would get it. You've worked like a Trojan and you deserve it.”
“It's as good as getting the valedictory,” said Joe Stone.
“And that is entering into any college in the land without an examination,” said Peter Crane.
Now Peter had run shoulder to shoulder with Fred and it does him great credit that, being beaten, he was thoroughly good-natured about it.
“I say, Fred, you ought to treat for this;” and Noah Holmes, standing on tiptoe, looked over the heads of the other boys significantly at Fred.
“I wish I could; but here's all the money I've got,” said Fred, taking about twenty-five cents from his pocket—all that was left of his monthly allowance.
“That's better than nothing. It will buy an apple apiece. Come on! Let's go down to old Granger's. I saw some apples there big as your head; and bigger, too,” said Noah, with a droll wink.
“Well, come on, then;” and away went the boys at Fred's heels, pushing and shouting, laughing and frolicking, until they came to Abel Granger's little grocery.
“Now hush up, you fellows,” said Noah, turning round upon them. “Let Fred go in by himself. Old Grange can't abide a crowd and noise. It will make him cross, and all we shall get will be the specked and worm-eaten ones. Come, fall back, there!”
Very quietly and obediently the boys, who always knew their leader, fell back, and Fred went into the little dark grocery alone.
He was so pleasant and gentlemanly that, let him go where he would and do what he would, in some mysterious way he always found the right side of
Comments (0)