CHAPTER XI
BARCLAY & CO.
The loss of the shirt was very vexatious. It was not so much the valueof it that Paul cared for, although this was a consideration by no meansto be despised by one in his circumstances; but it had been lent as apattern, and without it his mother would be unable to make Mr. Preston'sshirts. As to recovering it, he felt that there was little chance ofthis. Besides, it would involve delay, and his mother could not affordto remain idle. Paul felt decidedly uncomfortable. Again Mike Donovanhad done him an injury, and this time of a more serious nature thanbefore.
What should he do?
There seemed but one answer to this question. He must go back to Mr.Preston, explain the manner in which he had lost his shirt, and ask himfor another, promising, of course, to supply the place of the one lost.He was not sure whether Mr. Preston would accept this explanation. Hemight think it was only an attempt to defraud him. But, at any rate, itseemed the only thing to do, and it must be done at once. He entered apassing car, for it was too late to walk.
"I wish I had taken the car down," thought Paul. "Then I shouldn't havelost the shirt."
But it was too late for regrets now. He must do the best that remainedto him.
It was nearly ten o'clock when Paul once more stood before the door ofMr. Preston's boarding-place. He rang the bell and asked to see him.
"You have been here before this evening?" said the servant.
"Yes."
"Then you know the room. You can walk right up."
Paul went upstairs and knocked at Mr. Preston's room. He was bidden tocome in, and did so.
Mr. Preston looked up with surprise.
"I suppose you are surprised to see me," said Paul, rather awkwardly.
"Why, yes. I did not anticipate that pleasure quite so soon," said Mr.Preston, smiling.
"I am afraid it won't be a pleasure, for I bring bad news."
"Bad news?" repeated the gentleman, rather startled.
"Yes; I have lost the shirt you gave me."
"Oh, is that all?" said Mr. Preston, looking relieved. "But how did youlose it?"
"I was walking home down the Bowery, when two fellows met me. One ofthem, Mike Donovan, forced me into a fight. I gave him a licking," addedPaul, with satisfaction; "but when it was all over, I found the otherfellow had run off with the shirt."
"I don't believe it will fit him," said Mr. Preston, laughing.
As the speaker probably weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, it was,indeed, rather doubtful. Paul couldn't help laughing himself at thethought.
"You were certainly unlucky," said Mr. Preston. "Did you know the boyyou fought with?"
"Yes, sir; he once before stole my stock of candy, when I was in theprize-package business."
"That was the day we got acquainted," remarked Mr. Preston.
"Yes, sir."
"He doesn't seem to be a very particular friend of yours."
"No; he hates me, Mike does, though I don't know why. But I hope youwon't be angry with me for losing the shirt?"
"No; it doesn't seem to be your fault, only your misfortune."
"I was afraid you might think I had made up the story, and only wantedto get an extra shirt from you."
"No, my young friend; I have some faith in physiognomy, and you have anhonest face. I don't believe you would deceive me."
"No, I wouldn't," said Paul, promptly. "If you will trust me withanother shirt, mother will make you an extra one to make up for the oneI have lost."
"Certainly you shall have the extra shirt, but you needn't supply theplace of the one lost."
"It is only fair that I should."
"That may be, and I am glad you made the offer, but the loss is oflittle importance to me. It was no fault of yours that you lost it, andyou shall not suffer for it."
"You are very kind, sir," said Paul, gratefully.
"Only just, Paul."
Mr. Preston went to the bureau, and drew out another shirt, which hehanded to Paul.
"Let me suggest, my young friend," he said, "that you ride home thistime. It is late, and you might have another encounter with your friend.I should like to see him with the shirt on," and Mr. Preston laughedheartily at the thought.
Paul decided to follow his patron's advice. He had no idea of runningany more risk in the matter. He accordingly walked to Fourth avenue andgot on board the car.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when he reached home. As it was neverhis habit to stay out late, his mother had become alarmed at his longabsence.
"What kept you so late, Paul?" she asked.
"I'll tell you, pretty soon, mother. Here's the shirt that is to serveas a pattern. Can you cut out the new shirts by it?"
Mrs. Hoffman examined it attentively.
"Yes," she said; "there will be no difficulty about that. Mr. Prestonmust be a pretty large man."
"Yes, he is big enough for an alderman; but he is very kind andconsiderate, and I like him. You shall judge for yourself when I tellyou what happened this evening."
It will not be necessary to tell Paul's adventure over again. Hismother listened with pardonable indignation against Mike Donovan and hiscompanion.
"I hope you won't have anything to do with that bad boy, Paul," shesaid.
"I shan't, if I can help it," said Paul. "I didn't want to speak to himto-night, but I couldn't help myself. Oh, I forgot to say, when half theshirts are ready, I am to take them to Mr. Preston."
"I think I can make one a day."
"There is no need of working so steadily, mother. You will be well paid,you know."
"That is true; and for that reason I shall work more cheerfully. I wishI could get paid as well for all my work."
"Perhaps Mr. Preston will recommend you to his friends, and you can getmore work that way."
"I wish I could."
"I will mention it to him, when I carry back the last half dozen."
"Is he going to send the cloth?"
"I nearly forgot that, too. I have an order on Barclay & Co. for thenecessary amount of cloth. I can go up there to-morrow morning and getit."
"That will take you from your work, Paul."
"Well, I can close up for a couple of hours."
"I don't think that will be necessary. I will go up myself and presentthe order, and get them to send it home for me."
"Will they do that?"
"It is their custom. Or, if the bundle isn't too large. I can bring ithome myself in the car."
"That's all right, then. And now, mother, as it's past eleven o'clock, Ithink we may as well both go to bed."
The next day Paul went as usual to his business, and Mrs. Hoffman, afterclearing away the breakfast, put on her bonnet and shawl, and preparedto go for the materials for the shirts.
The retail store of Barclay & Co. is of great size, and ranks among themost important in New York. It was not so well filled when Mrs. Hoffmanentered as it would be later. She was directed to the proper counter,where she presented the order, signed by Mr. Preston. As he was acustomer of long standing, there was no difficulty about filling theorder. A bundle was made up, which, as it contained the materials fortwelve shirts, necessarily was of considerable size.
"Here is your bundle, ma'am," said the clerk.
Mrs. Hoffman's strength was slender, and she did not feel able to carrythe heavy bundle offered her. Even if she took the car, she would beobliged to carry it a portion of the way, and she felt that it wouldovertask her strength.
"Don't you send bundles?" she asked.
"Sometimes," said the clerk, looking superciliously at the modest attireof the poor widow, and mentally deciding that she was not entitled tomuch consideration. Had she been richly dressed, he would have been veryobsequious, and insisted on sending home the smallest parcel. But thereare many who have two rules of conduct, one for the rich, and quitea different one for the poor, and among these was the clerk who wasattending upon Mrs. Hoffman.
"Then," said Mrs. Hoffman, "I should like to hav
e you send this."
"It's a great deal of trouble to send everything," said the clerk,impertinently.
"This bundle is too heavy for me to carry," said the widow,deprecatingly.
"I suppose we can send it," said the clerk, ill-naturedly, "if youinsist upon it."
Meanwhile, though he had not observed it, his employer had approached,and heard the last part of the colloquy. He was considered by some asa hard man, but there was one thing he always required of those in hisemploy; that was to treat all purchasers with uniform courtesy, whatevertheir circumstances.
"Are you objecting to sending this lady's bundle?" said Mr. Barclay,sternly.
The clerk looked up in confusion.
"I told her we would send it," he stammered.
"I have heard what passed. You have been deficient in politeness. Ifthis happens again, you leave my employ."
"I will take your address," said the clerk, in a subdued tone.
Mrs. Hoffman gave it, and left the store, thankful for the interferenceof the great merchant who had given his clerk a lesson which the latter,as he valued his situation, found it advisable to bear in mind.
Paul the Peddler; Or, The Fortunes of a Young Street Merchant Page 11
