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. Struggling Upward, or Luke Larkin's Luck by Jr. Horatio Alger (best novels for students txt) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Struggling Upward, or Luke Larkin's Luck by Jr. Horatio Alger (best novels for students txt) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
"What are you thinking about? You seem in a brown study," said a pleasant voice.
Looking up, Linton recognized his teacher, Mr. Hooper.
"I was thinking of Luke Larkin," answered Linton.
"By the by, where is Luke? I have not seen him for some time."
"He is traveling for Mr. Reed, I believe."
"The man who committed the tin box to his care?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know where he is?"
"No, sir. I have just received a letter from him, but he says he is not at liberty to mention where he is."
"Will he be home soon?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I shall be glad to see him. He is one of the most promising of my pupils."
Linton's expressive face showed the pleasure he felt at this commendation of his friend. He felt more gratified than if Mr. Hooper had directly praised him.
"Luke can stand Randolph's depreciation," he reflected, "with such a friend as Mr. Hooper."
Linton was destined to meet plenty of acquaintances. Scarcely had he parted from Mr. Hooper, when Tony Denton met him. The keeper of the billiard-room was always on the alert to ingratiate himself with the young people of the village, looking upon them as possible patrons of his rooms. He would have been glad to draw in Linton, on account of his father's prominent position in the village.
"Good day, my young friend," he said, with suavity.
"Good day, Mr. Denton," responded Linton, who thought it due to himself to be polite, though he did not fancy Mr. Denton.
"I should be very glad to have you look in at my billiard-room, Mr. Linton," continued Tony.
"Thank you sir, but I don't think my father would like to have me visit a billiard-saloon—at any rate, till I am older."
"Oh, I'll see that you come to no harm. If you don't want to play, you can look on."
"At any rate, I am obliged to you for your polite invitation."
"Oh, I like to have the nice boys of the village around me. Your friend Randolph Duncan often visits me."
"So I have heard," replied Linton.
"Well, I won't keep you, but remember my invitation."
"I am not very likely to accept," thought Linton. "I have heard that Randolph visits the billiard-room too often for his good."
CHAPTER XXXVII — AN INCIDENT ON THE CARS
As soon as possible, Luke started on his return to New York. He had enjoyed his journey, but now he felt a longing to see home and friends once more. His journey to Chicago was uneventful. He stayed there a few hours, and then started on his way home. On his trip from Chicago to Detroit he fell in with an old acquaintance unexpectedly.
When about thirty miles from Detroit, having as a seatmate a very large man, who compressed him within uncomfortable limits, he took his satchel, and passing into the car next forward, took a seat a few feet from the door. He had scarcely seated himself when, looking around, he discovered, in the second seat beyond, his old Chicago acquaintance, Mr. J. Madison Coleman. He was as smooth and affable as ever, and was chatting pleasantly with a rough, farmerlike-looking man, who seemed very much taken with his attractive companion.
"I wonder what mischief Coleman is up to now?" thought Luke.
He was so near that he was able to hear the conversation that passed between them.
"Yes, my friend," said Mr. Coleman, "I am well acquainted with Detroit. Business has called me there very often, and it will give me great pleasure to be of service to you in any way."
"What business are you in?" inquired the other.
"I am traveling for H. B. Claflin & Co., of New York. Of course you have heard of them. They are the largest wholesale dry-goods firm in the United States."
"You don't say so!" returned the farmer respectfully. "Do you get pretty good pay?"
"I am not at liberty to tell just what pay I get," said Mr. Coleman, "but I am willing to admit that it is over four thousand dollars."
"You don't say so!" ejaculated the farmer. "My! I think myself pretty lucky when I make a thousand dollars a year."
"Oh, well, my dear sir, your expenses are very light compared to mine. I spend about ten dollars a day on an average."
"Jehu!" ejaculated the farmer. "Well, that is a pile. Do all the men that travel for your firm get as much salary as you?"
"Oh, no; I am one of the principal salesmen, and am paid extra. I am always successful, if I do say it myself, and the firm know it, and pay me accordingly. They know that several other firms are after me, and would get me away if they didn't pay me my price."
"I suppose you know all about investments, being a business man?"
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