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. Now or Never; Or, The Adventures of Bobby Bright by Oliver Optic (classic literature list .TXT) 📖
- Author: Oliver Optic
Book online «Now or Never; Or, The Adventures of Bobby Bright by Oliver Optic (classic literature list .TXT) 📖». Author Oliver Optic
A legion of angels seemed to have encamped in his soul to give him strength for the great purpose in his mind. His was a holy and a true purpose, and it was this that made him think he could "do wonders."
What Bobby intended to do the reader shall know in due time. It is enough now that he meant to do something. The difficulty with a great many people is, that they never resolve to do something. They wait for "something to turn up;" and as "things" are often very obstinate, they utterly refuse to "turn up" at all. Their lives are spent in waiting for a golden opportunity which never comes.
Now, Bobby Bright repudiated the Micawber philosophy. He would have nothing to do with it. He did not believe corn would grow without being planted, or that pouts would bite the bare hook.
I am not going to tell my young readers now how Bobby came out in the end; but I can confidently say that, if he had waited for "something to turn up," he would have become a vagabond, a loafer, out of money, out at the elbows, and out of patience with himself and all the world.
It was "now or never" with Bobby. He meant to do something; and after he had made up his mind how and where it was to be done, it was no use to stand thinking about it, like the pendulum of the "old clock which had stood for fifty years in a farmer's kitchen, without giving its owner any cause of complaint."
Bobby walked down the road towards the village with a rapid step. He was thinking very fast, and probably that made him step quick. But as he approached Squire Lee's house, his pace slackened, and he seemed to be very uneasy. When he reached the great gate that led up to the house, he stopped for an instant, and thrust his hands down very deep into his trousers pockets. I cannot tell what the trousers pockets had to do with what he was thinking about; but if he was searching for anything in them, he did not find it; for after an instant's hesitation he drew out his hands, struck one of them against his chest, and in an audible voice exclaimed,—
"Now or never."
All this pantomime, I suppose, meant that Bobby had some misgivings as to the ultimate success of his mission at Squire Lee's, and that when he struck his breast and uttered his favorite expression, they were conquered and driven out.
Marching with a bold and determined step up to the squire's back door,—Bobby's ideas of etiquette would not have answered for the meridian of fashionable society,—he gave three smart raps.
Bobby's heart beat a little wildly as he awaited a response to his summons. It seemed that he still had some doubts as to the practicability of his mission; but they were not permitted to disturb him long, for the door was opened by the squire's pretty daughter Annie, a young miss of twelve.
"O, Bobby, is it you? I am so glad you have come!" exclaimed the little lady.
Bobby blushed—he didn't know why, unless it was that the young lady desired to see him. He stammered out a reply, and for the moment forgot the object of his visit.
"I want you to go down to the village for me, and get some books the expressman was to bring up from Boston for me. Will you go?"
"Certainly, Miss Annie, I shall be very glad to go for you," replied Bobby, with an emphasis that made the little maiden blush in her turn.
"You are real good, Bobby; but I will give you something for going."
"I don't want anything," said Bobby, stoutly.
"You are too generous! Ah, I heard what you did this forenoon; and pa says that a great many men would not have dared to do what you did. I always thought you were as brave as a lion; now I know it."
"The books are at the express office, I suppose," said Bobby, turning as red as a blood beet.
"Yes, Bobby; I am so anxious to get them that I can't wait till pa goes down this evening."
"I will not be gone long."
"O, you needn't run, Bobby; take your time."
"I will go very quick. But, Miss Annie, is your father at home?"
"Not now; he has gone over to the wood lot; but he will be back by the time you return."
"Will you please to tell him that I want to see him about something very particular, when he gets back?"
"I will, Bobby."
"Thank you, Miss Annie;" and Bobby hastened to the village to execute his commission.
"I wonder what he wants to see pa so very particularly for," said the young lady to herself, as she watched his receding form. "In my opinion, something has happened at the little black house, for I could see that he looked very sober."
Either Bobby had a very great regard for the young lady, and wished to relieve her impatience to behold the coveted books, or he was in a hurry to see Squire Lee; for the squire's old roan horse could hardly have gone quicker.
"You should not have run, Bobby," said the little maiden, when he placed the books in her hand; "I would not have asked you to go if I had thought you would run all the way. You must be very tired."
"Not at all; I didn't run, only walked very quick," replied he; but his quick breathing indicated that his words or his walk had been very much exaggerated. "Has your father returned?"
"He has; he is waiting for you in the sitting room. Come in, Bobby."
Bobby followed her into the room, and took the chair which Annie offered him.
"How do you do, Bobby? I am glad to see you," said the squire, taking him by the hand, and bestowing a benignant smile upon him—a smile which cheered his heart more than anything else could at that moment. "I have heard of you before, to-day."
"Have you?"
"I have, Bobby; you are a brave little fellow."
"I came over to see you, sir, about something very particular," replied Bobby, whose natural modesty induced him to change the topic.
"Indeed; well, what can I do for you?"
"A great deal, sir; perhaps you will think I am very bold, sir, but I can't help it."
"I know you are a very bold little fellow, or you would not have done what you did this forenoon," laughed the squire.
"I didn't mean that, sir," answered Bobby, blushing up to the eyes.
"I know you didn't; but go on."
"I only meant that you would think me presuming, or impudent, or something of that kind."
"O, no, far from it. You cannot be presuming or impudent. Speak out, Bobby; anything under the heavens that I can do for you, I shall be glad to do."
"Well, sir, I am going to leave Riverdale."
"Leave Riverdale!"
"Yes, sir; I am going to Boston, where I mean to do something to help mother."
"Bravo! you are a good lad. What do you mean to do?"
"I was thinking I should go into the book business."
"Indeed!" and Squire Lee was much amused by the matter-of-fact manner of the young aspirant.
"I was talking with a young fellow who went through the place last spring, selling books. He told me that some days he made three or four dollars, and that he averaged twelve dollars a week."
"He did well; perhaps, though, only a few of them make so much."
"I know I can make twelve dollars a week," replied Bobby, confidently, for that something within him made him feel capable of great things.
"I dare say you can. You have energy and perseverance, and people take a liking to you."
"But I wanted to see you about another matter. To speak out at once, I want to borrow sixty dollars of you;" and Bobby blushed, and seemed very much embarrassed by his own boldness.
"Sixty dollars!" exclaimed the squire.
"I knew you would think me impudent," replied our hero, his heart sinking within him.
"But I don't, Bobby. You want the money to go into business with—to buy your stock of books?"
"O, no, sir; I am going to apply to Mr. Bayard for that."
"Just so; Mr. Bayard is the gentleman whose daughter you saved?"
"Yes, sir. I want this money to pay off Mr. Hardhand. We owe him but sixty dollars now, and he has threatened to turn us out, if it is not paid by to-morrow noon."
"The old hunks!"
Bobby briefly related to the squire the events of the morning, much to the indignation and disgust of the honest, kind-hearted man. The courageous boy detailed more clearly his purpose, and doubted not he should be able to pay the loan in a few months.
"Very well, Bobby, here is the money;" and the squire took it from his wallet, and gave it to him.
"Thank you, sir. May Heaven bless you! I shall certainly pay you."
"Don't worry about it, Bobby. Pay it when you get ready."
"I will give you my note, and——"
The squire laughed heartily at this, and told him that, as he was a minor, his note was not good for anything.
"You shall see whether it is, or not," returned Bobby. "Let me give it to you, at least, so that we can tell how much I owe you from time to time."
"You shall have your own way."
Annie Lee, as much amused as her father at Bobby's big talk, got the writing materials, and the little merchant in embryo wrote and signed the note.
"Good, Bobby! Now promise that you will come and see me every time you come home, and tell me how you are getting along."
"I will, sir, with the greatest pleasure;" and with a light heart Bobby tripped away home.
CHAPTER VI IN WHICH BOBBY SETS OUT ON HIS TRAVELS
Squire Lee, though only a plain farmer, was the richest man in Riverdale. He had taken a great fancy to Bobby, and often employed him to do errands, ride the horse to plough in the cornfields, and such chores about the place as a boy could do. He liked to talk with Bobby because there was a great deal of good sense in him, for one with a small head.
If there was any one thing upon which the squire particularly prided himself, it was his knowledge of human nature. He declared that he only wanted to look a man in the face to know what he was; and as for Bobby Bright, he had summered him and wintered him, and he was satisfied that he would make something in good time.
He was not much astonished when Bobby opened his ambitious scheme of going into business for himself. But he had full faith in his ability to work out a useful and profitable, if not a brilliant, life. He often said that Bobby was worth his weight in gold, and that he would trust him with anything he had. Perhaps he did not suspect that the time was at hand when he would be called upon to verify his words practically; for it was only that morning, when one of the neighbors told him about Bobby's stopping the horse, that he had repeated the expression for the twentieth time.
It was not an idle remark. Sixty dollars was hardly worth mentioning with a man of his wealth and liberal views, though so careful a man as he was would not have been likely to throw away that amount. But as a matter of investment,—Bobby had made the note read "with interest,"—he would as readily have let him have it, as the next richest man in the place, so much confidence had he in our hero's integrity, and so sure was he that he would soon have the means of paying him.
Bobby was overjoyed at the fortunate issue of his mission, and he walked into the room where his mother was closing shoes, with a dignity worthy a banker or a great merchant. Mrs. Bright was very sad. Perhaps she felt a little grieved that her son, whom she loved so much, had so thoughtlessly plunged her into a new difficulty.
"Come, cheer up, mother; it is all right," said Bobby, in his usual elastic and gay tones; and at the same time he took the sixty dollars from his pocket and handed it to her. "There is the money, and you
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