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. From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger (spicy books to read txt) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience by Jr. Horatio Alger (spicy books to read txt) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
"Thank you, Dick."
The two procured a hasty breakfast, and set out, and soon the newsboy had his package of morning newspapers. He showed Nat where to look for the advertisements, and our hero sat down on a stoop, while Dick ran his route.
"Well, did you find anything worth looking up?" asked the newsboy, on returning.
"A dozen or more," cried Nat, gleefully. "It will be an easy matter to get work, I'm thinking."
At this the New York boy grinned broadly.
"Don't you fool yourself, Nat."
"But here are the advertisements."
"Yes, and a hundred young fellows after every one."
At this Nat's face fell.
"You are sure of this?"
"Go on, and find out for yourself. A good job isn't open more than an hour in this city."
"Then, I'd better hurry along."
Nat had written down about a dozen addresses on a slip of paper, and the newsboy showed him how he could get around from one place to the next with the least walking. Nat started off at a swift gait. Dick watched him out of sight with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"That boy means well," he murmured. "But he has got a whole lot to learn!"
The distance to the first place on Nat's list was almost half a mile. It was a shirt factory, where an assistant packer was desired, at eight dollars per week. Arriving there, Nat found about twenty young men and boys assembled, waiting to get into the office.
"Dick was right, a place here doesn't go begging long," thought the boy from the country.
It was some time before Nat could get into the office. He faced a tall, sharp-eyed man, who was in his shirt sleeves.
"Want the job, eh?" said the man. "Had any experience as a packer?"
"No, sir, but——"
"Can't use you. Next!"
Nat stared at the man in bewilderment.
"Won't you please try——"
"No." The man shook his head vigorously. "Next!" And our hero was elbowed toward the door by some others who wanted the position. In a moment more he found himself on the street again.
"Well, of all the mean men!" he began, and stopped short. "All right, he can keep his job. I'll try the next place."
The next was in a hat store, and the place was filled. Then came a clothing establishment, a hardware store, and a wholesale rubber factory. At none of these places was he wanted. By this time it was nearly noon, and he was getting just a little discouraged.
"It's going to be up-hill work, that's certain!" he told himself with a sigh.
The next place he visited was a seed store. Here a very elderly man came forward to greet him.
"So you want a place?" said he slowly. "Have you had any experience as an errand boy?"
"No, sir, but I am willing to learn."
"So they all say, but many boys don't seem to learn very fast. You look like a country lad." And the elderly man peered at Nat closely through his spectacles.
"I am a country boy. But if you'll give me a chance, I'll do my best."
"We can't pay you very much at the start."
"How much?"
"Two dollars and a half a week."
"I can't live on that. I've got to pay my board."
The elderly man shrugged his shoulders.
"Guess you had better look elsewhere then."
"Couldn't you pay me a little more? I am willing to work hard."
"Well, we might give you three dollars a week after the first month, but that is our limit for an errand boy."
"I can't take it," answered Nat. "I've got to earn more," and after a little additional talking he left the seed store.
He had a lunch in a bit of newspaper, and as it was nearly one o'clock, he sat down on a box on the sidewalk and ate it, washing it down with a drink of water from a cooler in a railroad ticket office. Then he went on his way once more, but at sundown had to give it up. He was so tired, and his feet were so sore from the pavements, that he could scarcely walk to his boarding house.
"I trust you found something," said Mrs. Talcott, as he entered.
"No," he answered, soberly. "I could have had one position, but it only paid two dollars and a half a week, so I didn't take it."
"I am sorry."
"I shall go out to-morrow again. I am bound to strike something sooner or later."
Being tremendously hungry Nat ate the supper provided with a relish. There were two other boarders—girls who worked in a large department store—and they were quite interested in him.
"You might get work at our place," said one of the girls. "They advertised to-day for wrappers."
"Yes, but they want experienced wrappers," said the other girl.
"I'll try them, anyway," said Nat. "And I am much obliged to you for telling me about it," he added.
On the following morning he was up as before and got the list from the papers again. Fortune was now with him, and at noon he found a position in a wholesale paper house. One of the clerks was going to visit some relatives down south, and Nat was hired to fill his place, at seven dollars per week.
"You've struck luck!" cried Dick Talcott, on hearing the news. "I hope the job lasts."
"So do I," answered Nat. "But even if it doesn't, it is better than nothing."
Nat went to work the next day. He found his duties rather simple and wondered how the firm could afford to pay him seven dollars for the little he was called on to do. Everybody treated him nicely, and he considered himself lucky to have made the connection with the firm.
CHAPTER X OUT OF WORK ONCE MOREDuring the time that he worked in the wholesale paper establishment Nat wrote a long letter to Sam Price, telling his friend of his adventures since leaving home, and asking for news from the farm. A few days later an answer came back, which ran as follows:
"I got your letter and found it very interesting. I hope you make your fortune in the city. It's certainly a fine place to go to, and maybe I'll try it myself some day. Country life is awful slow, and work is mighty hard. I have been hoeing corn to-day till my back aches ready to fall apart.
"Your uncle was awful mad to think you had run away, and madder still when he found you had sold the cow. He thought you were hiding in Cleveland, and he stayed in that city three days before he gave up the search. He claims that the cow belonged to him—that he took it for board and clothing for you, and he also sticks to it that you tried to burn down his barn. He says he is going to make it hot for you if he ever finds you. You can make sure I shan't tell him where you are."
Nat read the letter with keen interest, not once but several times, and shook his head slowly over the communication.
"I suppose Uncle Abner will always think I set fire to the barn," he thought. "Wish I could catch the person who really did do it. Must have been some tramp who was sleeping there and using a pipe."
At the end of the third week's work Nat had seven dollars saved, of which amount he was reasonably proud. But now came a setback for which he was not prepared.
"We have sold this concern to another party," said one of the proprietors to him. "After Saturday your services will be no longer required."
"Won't the new bosses need me?"
"No, for they have all the help of their own that they can use. Only our head bookkeeper will remain."
This was on Thursday, and during the balance of the week our hero looked around in his spare hours for another position, but without success. Monday morning found him doing nothing.
"As you said, it is not so easy to get a hold," said he to Dick. "Still, I don't feel quite so green as when I first reached New York. I at least know something about the streets and the stores."
Nat lost no time in looking for another place. But nothing turned up Monday or Tuesday, and Wednesday it rained so hard that he did not go out until after noon. Then he visited a fashionable wholesale jewelry establishment. Here he was asked to wait, while one of the proprietors interviewed a young man who had come in ahead of our hero.
The young man was dressed as a perfect dude, with a light checked suit, and very light gloves. He spoke with a drawl, and Nat heard every word that he said.
"What is your business, sir?" asked the jeweler.
"I believe, sir," said the young gentleman, "that you advertised for a—aw—a secretary."
"A clerk, yes, sir."
"Aw, all the same. Well, sir—aw—if we can agree upon terms, I should be—aw—flattered to proffer my services."
"Ah, indeed!" And the jeweler raised his eyebrows slightly.
"Yes, sir. You will be pleased to learn that all my connections—aw—move in the first circles."
"Undoubtedly that is very gratifying. But you mentioned terms. May I ask you what you expect?"
"Well, sir, perhaps a couple of thousand or so, a year. Then, I should wish to make certain stipulations—aw—as to the time I'm employed."
"Go on."
"For example, I never—aw—get up very early. I think it injures the health. But I think I could manage to get to the office by ten in the morning."
"I see."
"Then, I should want—aw—to have Saturday afternoons to myself, both in winter and summer. I always go to the theater matinées—so many—aw—pretty girls there," continued the dude.
"And what else?"
"I should not want to work later than five in the afternoon. Excessive labor is injurious to the health."
"Perhaps that is true."
"Then I should—aw—wish it understood that I could have five or six weeks off in the summer, so that I can visit the springs or the seashore," continued the dude. "Is that satisfactory?"
"I suppose it would be, to you," answered the jeweler.
"I think so."
"It wouldn't satisfy us at all."
"Really! That is too bad!"
"We want a man here who can work, and who is not afraid of long hours, and who doesn't set quite such a high figure on his services. You'll never fill the bill in the wide world. Good-day!"
"Really!" murmured the dude, and after staring at the jeweler, he turned on his heel and left in utter disgust. Several who had overheard the interview laughed out-right.
"What a perfect fool!" thought Nat. "I wonder if anybody will ever give him anything to do?"
"What can I do for you, young man?" asked the jeweler, turning to the boy.
"I am looking for work, sir."
"Are your expectations as high as those of the chap who just left?"
"No, sir. I am willing to work hard and I am not afraid of long hours."
"Then you are not a dude?"
"No, sir. Do I look like one?"
"You look like a country lad."
"I came from the country about a month ago. I've been working for Trumbull & Davison, the paper dealers. But they have sold out to another firm and don't need me any longer."
"I see. Well, I am sorry for you, for you look bright and honest. But I need somebody with experience in the jewelry line."
"Then you haven't any place that I can fill?"
"No, I—but hold on. I'll tell you what I might do. Do you know anything about horses?"
"Yes, sir."
"And about a garden?"
"Yes, sir. I was brought up on a farm."
"I need a man around my country home in New Jersey. I might try you there, at twelve dollars a month and your board."
Again Nat's face fell.
"Thank you, but I want to get something to do in the city," said he. "I am tired of farm life."
"Then I can't give you anything," and the jeweler turned away.
During the remainder of the day Nat visited several other stores and offices. But everywhere he received the same answer—that he was too late and the position advertised was already filled.
"Perhaps I did wrong not to take that position over in New Jersey," he thought, on his way to his boarding house. "But I don't want to go back to farm work if I can help it."
Two additional days passed, and still Nat found nothing to do, although he tramped from Forty-second Street clear down to the Battery several times. Then he obtained a job which lasted three days and paid him but two dollars.
"This isn't earning a living," he reasoned. "Unless I do better I'll have to try selling papers or blacking boots."
One morning he did try selling papers, under the tutorship of Dick, but the effort was not a success. By noon he had earned exactly nineteen cents and had
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