CHAPTER VI. LOOKING OUT ON THE WORLD
It was not until evening that Harry had a chance to look at his prize.It was a cheap book, costing probably not over a dollar; but except hisschoolbooks, and a ragged copy of "Robinson Crusoe," it was the onlybook that our hero possessed. His father found it difficult enough tobuy him the necessary books for use in school, and could not afford tobuy any less necessary. So our young hero, who was found of reading,though seldom able to gratify his taste, looked forward with great joyto the pleasure of reading his new book. He did not know much aboutBenjamin Franklin, but had a vague idea that he was a great man.
After his evening "chores" were done, he sat down by the table on whichwas burning a solitary tallow candle, and began to read. His mother wasdarning stockings, and his father had gone to the village store on anerrand.
So he began the story, and the more he read the more interesting hefound it. Great as he afterwards became, he was surprised to find thatFranklin was a poor boy, and had to work for a living. He started out inlife on his own account, and through industry, frugality, perseverance,and a fixed determination to rise in life, he became a distinguishedan in the end, and a wise man also, though his early opportunitieswere very limited. It seemed to Harry that there was a great similaritybetween his own circumstances and position in life and those of thegreat man about whom he was reading, and this made the biography themore fascinating. The hope came to him that, by following Franklin'sexample, he, too, might become a successful man.
His mother, looking up at intervals from the stockings which had beenso repeatedly darned that the original texture was almost wholly lost ofsight of, noticed how absorbed he was.
"Is your book interesting, Harry?" she asked.
"It's the most interesting book I ever read," said Harry, with a sigh ofintense enjoyment.
"It's about Benjamin Franklin, isn't it?"
"Yes. Do you know, mother, he was a poor boy, and he worked his way up?"
"Yes, I have heard so, but I never read his life."
"You'd better read this when I have finished it. I've been thinking thatthere's a chance for me, mother."
"A chance to do what?"
"A chance to be somebody when I get bigger. I'm poor now, but so wasFranklin. He worked hard, and tried to learn all he could. That's theway he succeeded. I'm going to do the same."
"We can't all be Franklins, my son," said Mrs. Walton, not wishing herson to form high hopes which might be disappointed in the end.
"I know that, mother, and I don't expect to be a great man like him.But if I try hard I think I can rise in the world, and be worth a littlemoney."
"I hope you wont' be as poor as your father, Harry," said Mrs. Walton,sighing, as she thought of the years of pain privation and pinchingpoverty reaching back to the time of their marriage. They had gotthrough it somehow, but she hoped that their children would have abrighter lot.
"I hope not," said Harry. "If I ever get rich, you shan't have to workany more."
Mrs. Walton smiled faintly. She was not hopeful, and thought it probablethat before Harry became rich, both she and her husband would be restingfrom their labor in the village churchyard. But she would not dampenHarry's youthful enthusiasm by the utterance of such a thought.
"I am sure you won't let your father and mother want, if you have themeans to prevent it," she said aloud.
"We can't any of us tell what's coming, but I hope you may be well offsome time."
"I read in the country paper the other day that many of the richest menin Boston and New York were once poor boys," said Harry, in a hopefultone.
"So I have heard," said his mother.
"If they succeeded I don't see why I can't."
"You must try to be something more than a rich man. I shouldn't want youto be like Squire Green."
"He is rich, but he is mean and ignorant. I don't think I shall be likehim. He has cheated father about the cow."
"Yes, he drove a sharp trade with him, taking advantage of hisnecessities. I am afraid your father won't be able to pay for the cowsix months from now."
"I am afraid so, too."
"I don't see how we can possibly save up forty dollars. We areeconomical now as we can be."
"That is what I have been thinking of, mother. There is no chance offather's paying the money."
"Then it won't be paid, and we shall be worse off when the note comesdue, than now."
"Do you think," said Harry, laying down the book on the table, andlooking up earnestly, "do you think, mother, I could any way earn theforty dollars before it is to be paid?"
"You, Harry?" repeated his mother, in surprise, "what could you do toearn the money?"
"I don't know, yet," answered Harry; "but there are a great many thingsto be done."
"I don't know what you can do, except to hire out to a farmer, and theypay very little. Besides, I don't know of any farmer in the town thatwants a boy. Most of them have boys of their own, or men."
"I wasn't thinking of that," said Harry. "There isn't much chancethere."
"I don't know of any work to do here."
"Nor I, mother. But I wasn't thinking of staying in town."
"Not thinking of staying in town!" repeated Mrs. Walton, in surprise."You don't want to leave home, do you?"
"No, mother, I don't want to leave home, or I wouldn't want to, if therewas anything to do here. But you know there isn't. Farm work wont' helpme along, and I don't' like it as well as some other kinds of work. Imust leave home if I want to rise in the world."
"But your are too young, Harry."
This was touching Harry on a tender spot. No boy of fourteen likes to beconsidered very young. By that time he generally begins to feel a degreeof self-confidence and self-reliance, and fancies he is almost on thethreshold of manhood. I know boys of fourteen who look in the glassdaily for signs of a coming mustache, and fancy they can see plainlywhat is not yet visible. Harry had not got as far as that, but he nolonger looked upon himself as a young boy. He was stout and strong, andof very good height for his age, and began to feel manly. So he drewhimself up, upon this remark of his mother's, and said proudly: "I amgoing on fifteen"--that sounds older than fourteen--"and I don't callthat very young."
"It seems but a little while since you were a baby," said his mother,meditatively.
"I hope you don't think me anything like a baby now, mother," saidHarry, straightening up, and looking as large as possible.
"No, you're quite a large boy, now. How quick the years have passed!"
"And I am strong for my age, too, mother. I am sure I am old enough totake care of myself."
"But you are young to go out into the world."
"I don't believe Franklin was much older than I, and he got along. Thereare plenty of boys who leave home before they are as old as I am."
"Suppose you are sick, Harry?"
"If I am I'll come home. But you know I am very healthy, mother, and ifI am away from home I shall be very careful."
"But you would not be sure of getting anything to do."
"I'll risk that, mother," said Harry, in a confident tone.
"Did you think of this before you read that book?"
"Yes, I've been thinking of it for about a month; but the book put itinto my head to-night. I seem to see my way clearer than I did. I wantmost of all, to earn money enough to pay for the cow in six months.You know yourself, mother, there isn't any chance of father doing ithimself, and I can't earn anything if I stay at home."
"Have you mentioned the matter to your father yet, Harry?"
"No, I haven't. I wish you would speak about it tonight, mother. You cantell him first what makes me want to go."
"I'll tell him that you want to go; but I won't promise to say I thinkit a good plan."
"Just mention it, mother, and then I'll talk with him about itto-morrow."
To this Mrs. Walton agreed, and Harry, after reading a few pages more inthe "Life of Franklin," went up to bed; but it was some time be
forehe slept. His mind was full of the new scheme on which he had set hisheart.