Fame and Fortune; or, The Progress of Richard Hunter

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  CHAPTER XVI.

  ROSWELL CRAWFORD RETIRES FROM BUSINESS.

  "Can you send this home for me?" asked a lady in Hall & Turner's storeabout three o'clock in the afternoon of the day on which Dick, as wehave related, was arrested.

  "Certainly, madam. Where shall it be sent?" asked the clerk.

  "No. 47 West Fortieth Street," was the reply.

  "Very well, it shall be sent up immediately. Here, Roswell."

  Roswell Crawford came forward not very willingly. He had no great likingfor the task which he saw would be required of him. Fortieth Street wasat least a mile and a half distant, and he had already just returnedfrom a walk in a different direction. Besides, the bundle was a largeone, containing three dress patterns. He did not think it very suitablefor a gentleman's son to be seen carrying such a large bundle throughthe streets.

  "Why don't you send Edward?" he said, complainingly. "He doesn't do halfas much as I."

  "I shall send whom I please," said the clerk, sharply. "You wouldn't doanything if you could help it."

  "I won't carry bundles much longer," said Roswell. "You put all theheaviest bundles off upon me."

  Roswell's back being turned, he did not observe Mr. Turner, who had comeup as he was speaking.

  "What are you complaining about?" asked that gentleman.

  Roswell turned, and colored a little when he saw his employer.

  "What is the matter?" repeated Mr. Turner.

  "Mr. Evans always gives me the largest bundles to carry," said Roswell.

  "He is always complaining of having to carry bundles," said the clerk."He says it isn't suitable work for a gentleman's son."

  "I have noticed it," said Mr. Turner. "On the whole, I think, Mr.Crawford," he said, with mock deference, "I think you have mistaken yourvocation in entering a dry-goods store. I advise you to seek some moregentlemanly employment. At the end of the week, you are at liberty toleave my employment for one better suited to you."

  "I'm ready to go now," said Roswell, sulkily.

  "Very well; if you desire it, I will not insist upon your remaining. Ifyou will come up to the desk, you shall receive what is due you."

  It was somewhat humiliating to Roswell to feel that his services were soreadily dispensed with. Still he had never liked the place, and heartilydisliked carrying bundles. By going at once, he would get rid of thelarge bundle to be carried to West Fortieth Street. Congratulatinghimself, therefore, on the whole, on escaping from what he regarded as adegrading servitude, he walked up to the desk in a dignified manner, andreceived the wages due him.

  "I hope you will find some more congenial employment," said Mr. Turner,who paid him the amount of his wages.

  "I have no doubt I shall," said Roswell, loftily. "My father was agentleman, and our family has considerable influence."

  "Well, I wish you success. Good-by."

  "Good-by," said Roswell, and walked out of the shop with head erect.

  He did not quite like going home at once, as explanation would be ratherawkward under the circumstances. He accordingly crossed over to FifthAvenue, considering that the most suitable promenade for a gentleman'sson. He could not help regarding with some envy the happy possessors ofthe elegant buildings which he passed. Why had partial Fate denied himthat fortune which would have enabled him to live in this favoredlocality?

  "Plenty of snobs have got money," he thought. "How much better I coulduse it than they! I wish I were rich! You wouldn't catch me slaving mylife out in a dry-goods store, or any other."

  This was undoubtedly true. Work of any kind had no charms for Roswell.To walk up the avenue swinging a dandy cane, dressed in the height ofthe fashion, or, what was better yet, sitting back luxuriously in anelegant carriage drawn by a dashing span; such was what he regardedhimself most fit for. But, unfortunately, he was not very likely torealize his wishes. The desire to enjoy wealth doesn't bring it, and thetastes of a gentleman are not a very good stock to begin life with. SoRoswell sauntered along in rather a discontented frame of mind until hereached Madison Park, where he sat down on a bench, and listlesslywatched some boys who were playing there.

  "Hallo, Roswell!" said one of his acquaintances, coming up by chance."How do you happen to be here?"

  "Why shouldn't I be here?"

  "I thought you were in a store somewhere on Sixth Avenue."

  "Well, I was, but I have left it."

  "When did you leave it?"

  "To-day."

  "Got sacked, hey?"

  "Sacked," in the New York vernacular, means discharged from a place. Theidea of having it supposed that he had been "sacked" was not pleasing toRoswell's pride. He accordingly answered, "I never was 'sacked' in mylife. Besides, it's a low word, and I never use it."

  "Well, you know what I mean. Did they turn you off?"

  "No, they didn't. They would have been glad to have me stay."

  "Why didn't you then?"

  "I didn't like the business."

  "Dry goods,--wasn't it?"

  "Yes, a retail dry-goods store. If I ever go into that line again, it'llbe in a wholesale store. There's a chance there for a man to rise."

  "You don't call yourself a man yet,--do you?"

  "I call myself a gentleman," said Roswell, shortly.

  "What are you going to do now?"

  "I'm in no hurry about a new place. I shall look round a little."

  "Well, success to you. I must be getting back to the shop."

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm learning a trade."

  "Oh!" said Roswell, turning up his nose slightly, which was quite easyfor him to do, as nature had given that organ an upward turn. He thoughtall trades low, and resolved hereafter to hold as little communicationas possible with the boy who had so far demeaned himself as to belearning one. That was worse than being in a dry-goods store, andcarrying around bundles.

  Towards six o'clock Roswell rose from his seat, and sauntered towardsClinton Place, which was nearly a mile distant. He entered the house alittle before dinner.

  "Are you not earlier than usual, Roswell?" asked his mother.

  "I've left the store," he said, abruptly.

  "Left the store!" echoed his mother, in some dismay. "Why?"

  "Because they don't know how to treat me. It's no fit place for agentleman's son."

  "I am sorry, Roswell," said Mrs. Crawford, who, like her son, was "poorand proud," and found the four dollars he earned weekly of advantage."I'm afraid you have been foolish."

  "Listen, mother, and I'll tell you all about it," he said.

  Roswell gave his explanation, which, it need hardly be said, was veryfavorable to himself, and Mrs. Crawford was finally brought to believethat Hall & Turner were low people, with whom it was not suitable forone of her son's gentlemanly tastes to be placed. His vindication wasscarcely over, when the bell rang, and his Cousin Gilbert was admitted.

  Mr. Gilbert entered briskly, and with a smiling face. He felt unusuallycomplaisant, having succeeded in his designs against our hero.

  "Well, James," said Mrs. Crawford, "you look in better spirits than Ifeel."

  "What's happened amiss?"

  "Roswell has given up his place."

  "Been discharged, you mean."

  "No," said Roswell, "I left the place of my own accord."

  "What for?"

  "I don't like the firm, nor the business. I wish I were in Mr.Rockwell's."

  "Well," said Gilbert, "perhaps I can get you in there."

  "Has the boot-black left?"

  "He's found another place," said Gilbert, smiling at what he regarded asa good joke.

  "You don't mean to say he has left a place where he was earning tendollars a week?" said Mrs. Crawford, in surprise. "Where is this newplace that you speak of?"

  "In the station-house."

  "Is he in the station-house?" asked Roswell, eagerly.

  "That is what I hear."

  "What's he been doing?"

  "Charged with picking a pock
et."

  "Well, I do hope Mr. Rockwell will now see his folly in engaging a boyfrom the streets," said Mrs. Crawford, charitably concluding that therewas no doubt of our hero's guilt.

  "What'll be done with him, Cousin James?" asked Roswell.

  "He'll be sent to the Island, I suppose."

  "He may get clear."

  "I think not. Circumstances are very much against him, I hear."

  "And will you try to get me in, Cousin James?"

  "I'll do what I can. Perhaps it may be well for you to drop in to-morrowabout ten o'clock."

  "All right,--I'll do it."

  Both Mrs. Crawford's and Roswell's spirits revived wonderfully, and Mr.Gilbert, too, seemed unusually lively. And all because poor Dick had gotinto difficulties, and seemed in danger of losing both his place and hisgood name.

  "It's lucky I left Hall & Turner's just as I did!" thought Roswell,complacently. "May be they'd like to engage the boot-black when he getsout of prison. But I guess he'll have to go back to blacking boots.That's what he's most fit for."