Life in London

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by Edwin Hodder




  LIFE IN LONDON

  OR, THE PITFALLS OF A GREAT CITY

  BY EDWIN HODDER, ESQ.

  1890.

  CONTENTS.

  I. THE INTRODUCTION

  II. SCHOOL-BOY DAYS

  III. STARTING WELL

  IV. MEETING A SCHOOL-FELLOW

  V. A FARCE

  VI. THE LECTURE

  VII. GETTING ON IN THE WORLD

  VIII. A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP

  IX. IN EXILE

  X. MAKING DISCOVERIES

  XI. THE SICK CHAMBER

  CHAPTER I.

  THE INTRODUCTION.

  Breathless and excited, George Weston came running down a street inIslington. He knocked at the door of No. 16, and in his impatience,until it was opened, commenced a tattoo with his knuckles upon thepanels.

  "Oh, mother, mother, I have got such splendid news!" he cried, as hehurried down stairs into the room where Mrs. Weston, with her apron onand sleeves tucked up, was busy in her domestic affairs. "Such splendidnews!" repeated George. "I have been down to Mr. Compton's with theletter Uncle Henry gave me, in which he said I wanted a situation, andshould be glad if Mr. Compton could help me; and, sure enough, I wasable to see him, and he is such a kind, fatherly old gentlemen, mother.I am sure I shall like him."

  "Well, George, and what did he say!"

  "Oh! I've got ever so much to tell you, before I come to that part. Theoffice, you know, is in Falcon Court, Fleet Street; such a dismal place,with the houses all crammed together, and a little space in front, notmore than large enough to turn a baker's bread-truck in. All the windowsare of ground glass, as if the people inside were too busy to see out,or to be seen; and on every door there are lots of names of people whohave their offices there, and some of them are actually right up at thetop storeys of the houses. Well, I found out the name of Mr. Compton,and I tapped at a door where 'Clerk's Office' was written. I think Iought not to have tapped, but to have gone in, for somebody said rathersharply, 'Come in,' and in I went. An old gentleman was standing besidea sort of counter, with a lot of heavy books on it, and he asked me whatI wanted. I said I wanted to see Mr. Compton, and had got a letter forhim. He told me to sit down until Mr. Compton was disengaged, and thenhe would see me."

  "And what sort of an office was it, George? And who was the oldgentleman? The manager, I suppose!"

  "I think he was, because he seemed to do as he liked, and all the clerkstalked in a whisper while he was there. I had to wait more thanhalf-an-hour, and I was able to look round and see all that was goingon. It is a large office, and there were ten clerks seated onuncomfortable high stools, without backs, poring over books and papers.I don't think I shall like those clerks, they stared at me so rudely,and I felt so ashamed, because one looked hard at me, and then whisperedto another: and I believe they were saying something about my boots,which you know, mother, are terribly down at heel, and so I put one footover the other, to try and hide them."

  "There was no need of that, George. It did not alter the fact that theywere down at heel; and there is no disgrace in being clothed only asrespectable as we can afford, is there?"

  "Not a bit, mother: and I feel so vexed with myself because I knew Iturned red, which made the two clerks smile. But I must go on tellingyou what else I saw. The old gentleman seems quite a character--he isnearly bald, has got no whiskers, wears a big white neckcloth and a tailcoat, and takes snuff every five minutes out of a silver box. Whether heknows it or not, the clerks are very rude to him: for when he tooksnuff, one of them sneezed, or pretended to sneeze, every time, andanother snuffled, as if he were taking snuff too."

  "That certainly does not speak well for the clerks," said Mrs. Weston."Old gentlemen do have peculiar ways sometimes, but it is not right foryoung people to ridicule them."

  "No, it is not; and I don't like to see people do a thing behind anotherone's back they are afraid to do before his face. When the clerks had tospeak to the old gentleman, they were as civil as possible, and said,'Yes, sir,' and 'No, sir,' to him so meekly, as if they were quiteafraid of him; but after a little while, when he took up his hat andwent out, they all began talking and laughing out loud, although when hewas there, they had only occasionally spoken in low whispers. There wasonly one young man, out of the whole lot, who did not join with them,but kept at his work; and I thought if I got a situation in that office,I should try and make friends with him."

  "That's right, George. I would rather you should not have a situation atall, than get mixed up with bad companions. But go on, I am so anxiousto hear what Mr. Compton said."

  "Well, after half-an-hour, I heard a door in the next room close, and atable-bell touched, and then the old gentleman, who had by this timereturned, went in Presently he came out again, and said Mr. Comptonwould see me. Oh, mother! I felt so funny, you don't know. My mouth gotquite dry, my face flushed, and I couldn't think whatever I should say,I felt just as I did that day at the school examination, when I had tomake one of the prize speeches. But I got all to rights directly I sawMr. Compton. He said, 'Good morning to you--be seated,' in such a niceway, that I felt at home with him at once."

  "And what did you say to him, George?"

  "I had learnt by heart what I was going to say, but in the hurry I hadforgotten every word. So I said, 'My name is--' (it's a wonder I did notsay Norval, for I felt a bit bewildered at the sound of my own voice)'--my name is George Weston, sir, and I have brought you a letter frommy uncle, Mr. Henry Brunton, who knows you, I think.' 'Oh! yes," hesaid, 'he knows me very well; and, if I mistake not, this letter isabout you, for he was talking to me about a nephew the other day.' Isn'tthat just like Uncle Henry?--he never said anything about that to us,but he is so good and kind, we are always finding out some of hisgenerous actions, about which he never speaks. While Mr. Compton wasreading the letter, I had leisure to look at him, and at his room. He issuch a fine-looking old man, just like that picture we saw in theAcademy, last year, of the village squire. He looks as if he were verybenevolent and kind-hearted, and he dresses just like some of thecountry gentlemen, with a dark green coat and velvet collar, a frillshirt, and a little bit of buf. waistcoat seen under his coat, which hekeeps buttoned. He had got lots of books, and papers, and files about,and sat hi an arm-chair so cosily--in fact, I should not have thoughtthat nice carpeted room was really an office, if it had not been for theground-glass windows. Just as I was thinking why it was the glorioussunshine is not admitted into offices, Mr. Compton said--"

  "What did he say, George? I have waited so patiently to hear."

  "He said, 'Well, _Mr_. Weston,'--(he did really call me Mr. Weston,mother; I suppose he took me for a young man: it is evident he did notknow I was wearing a stick-up shirt collar for the first time in mylife)--'I have read this letter, and am inclined to think I may be ableto do something for you.' That put my 'spirits up,' as poor father usedto say; and I said, 'I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.' So then he told methat he wanted a junior clerk in his office, who could write quickly, bebrisk at accounts, and make himself generally useful, as theadvertisements in the _Times_ say. I told him I could do all thesethings; and he passed me a sheet of paper, to give him a specimen of myhandwriting. I hardly knew what to write, but I fixed upon a passage ofScripture, 'Not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving theLord.' My hand was so shaky, that all the letters with tails to them hadthe queerest flourishes you ever saw. Mr. Compton smiled when I handedhim the sheet of paper--I don't know whether it was at the writing, orat the quotation, and I wished I had written a passage from Senecainstead!"

  "You did not feel ashamed at having written a part of God's word, didyou, George?"

  "No, not ashamed, mother; but I thought it was not business-like, andseemed too much like a schoolboy."
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  "I think it was very business-like. It would convey the idea that youwould seek to do your business from the best and highest motives. Butwhat did Mr. Compton say?"

  "He only said he thought the handwriting was good. Then he told me thathe would take me as his clerk, and should expect me to be at my postnext Monday morning, at nine o'clock. 'And now,' he said, 'we must fixupon a salary; and as your uncle has told me that you are anxious tomaintain yourself, I will give you a weekly sum sufficient for thatpurpose; and if you give me satisfaction, I will raise it yearly.' Andwhat do you think he offered me, mother?"

  "I really do not know; perhaps, as you are young, and have never been ina situation before, he said five shillings a week, although I did notthink you would get any salary at all for the first six months."

  "No, mother, more than five shillings; guess again," said George, hisface shining with excited delight.

  "Then I will guess seven and sixpence a week," said his mother,doubtfully, for she thought she had gone too high.

  "More than that, mother; guess only once more, for I cannot keep it inif you are not very quick."

  "Then I shall say ten shillings a week, George; but I am afraid I haveguessed too much."

  "No, mother, under the mark again. I am to have ten shillings andsixpence--half a guinea a week! Isn't that splendid? Only fancy, Mr.George Weston, Junior Clerk to Mr. Compton, at half-a-guinea a week! Myfortune is made; and, depend upon it, mother, we shall get on in theworld now, first-rate. Why, I shall only want--say, half-a-crown a weekfor myself, and then there will be all the rest for you. Now don't youthink blind-eyed Fortune must have dropped her bandage this morning, andhave spied me out?"

  "No, George; but I think that kind Providence; which has always smiledupon us when we have been in the greatest difficulties, has once moreshown us that all our ways are in the hands of One who doeth all thingswell."

  "So do I, mother; and I do hope that this success, which has attended myjourney this morning, may turn out to our real good. I feel it will--weshall be able to go on now so swimmingly, and I shall be getting afooting in the world, so that by-and-bye we shan't have a single debt,or a single care, and you will be growing younger as fast as I growolder: and then, after a time, we will get a little house in thecountry, and finish up our days the happiest couple in the Britishdominions."

  For the remainder of that day, poor George was in a regular whirl ofexcitement. A thousand schemes were afloat in his mind about the future,of the most improbable kind. His income of half-a-guinea a week was todo wonders, which were never accomplished by half a score of guineas.He speculated about the rise in his salary at the end of the year, whichhe was determined, if it rested upon his own industry, should not beless than a pound a week; and then he forgot the first year, andcommenced calculating what he could do, with his increased salary, till,at last, worn out with scheming, he said,--

  "Money is a great bother, after all, mother. I've been calculating allthis day how we can spend my salary; and I am really more perplexed thanif Mr. Compton had said I should not have anything for the first sixmonths. I can't make ends meet if I attempt to do what I have planned,that's very certain; so I shall quietly wait till the first Saturdaynight comes, and I feel the half-guinea in my hand, and then I shallbetter realize what it is worth."

  That was a pleasant evening Mrs. Weston and George spent together indiscussing the events of the day, and when it became time to separatefor the night, she said--

  "This is one of the happiest days we have spent for a long time, George.How your poor father would have enjoyed sharing it with us!" and thewidow sighed.

  "Mother," said George, "I have thought of poor father so many timesto-day, and I have formed a resolution which I mean to try and keep. Hewas a good man. I don't think he ever did anything really wrong--and Irecollect so well what he used to tell me, when I was a boy"--(Georgehad jumped into manhood in a day, he fancied)--"I mean to take him for amodel; and if I find myself placed in dangers and difficulties, I shallalways ask myself, 'What would father have done if he had been in thiscase?' and then I should try and do as he would."

  "May you have strength given to you, my deal boy, to carry out everygood resolution! But remember, there is a model which must be taken evenbefore that of your father. I mean the pure, sinless example of ourLord; follow this, and adhere to the plain directions of God's word, andyou cannot go wrong. And now, good night; God bless you, my son!"

  It was a long time before George went to sleep; again and again theevents of the day came to his memory, and he travelled in thought farinto the future, peering through the mist which hung over unborn time,and weighing circumstances which might never have a being.

  "I shall be quite accustomed to my duties by next Monday," he said tohis mother in the morning; "for I was all night long busy in the office,counting money, posting books, and when I awoke I was just signing adeed of partnership in the name of Compton and Weston."

 

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