Produced by Carrie Fellman
HELPING HIMSELF
Or
Grant Thornton's Ambition
By Horatio Alger, Jr.
New York
HELPING HIMSELF
CHAPTER I -- THE MINISTER'S SON
"I wish we were not so terribly poor, Grant," said Mrs. Thornton, ina discouraged tone.
"Is there anything new that makes you say so, mother?" answered theboy of fifteen, whom she addressed.
"Nothing new, only the same old trouble. Here is a note from Mr.Tudor, the storekeeper."
"Let me see it, mother."
Grant took a yellow envelope from his mother's hand, and drew outthe inclosure, a half sheet of coarse letter paper, which containedthe following lines:
"July 7, 1857.
REV. JOHN THORNTON:
DEAR SIR: Inclosed you will find a bill for groceries and othergoods furnished to you in the last six months, amounting tosixty-seven dollars and thirty-four cents ($67.34). It ought to havebeen paid before. How you, a minister of the Gospel, can justifyyourself in using goods which you don't pay for, I can't understand.If I remember rightly, the Bible says: 'Owe no man anything.' As Isuppose you recognize the Bible as an authority, I expect you to payup promptly, and oblige,
Yours respectfully, THOMAS TUDOR."
Grant looked vexed and indignant. "I think that is an impudentletter, mother," he said.
"It is right that the man should have his money, Grant."
"That is true, but he might have asked for it civilly, withouttaunting my poor father with his inability to pay. He would pay ifhe could."
"Heaven knows he would, Grant," said his mother, sighing.
"I would like to give Mr. Tudor a piece of my mind." "I would ratherpay his bill. No, Grant, though he is neither kind nor considerate,we must admit that his claim is a just one. If I only knew where toturn for money!"
"Have you shown the bill to father?" asked Grant.
"No; you know how unpractical your father is. It would only annoyand make him anxious, and he would not know what to do. Your poorfather has no business faculty."
"He is a very learned man," said Grant, proudly.
"Yes, he graduated very high at college, and is widely respected byhis fellow ministers, but he has no aptitude for business."
"You have, mother. If you had been a man, you would have done betterthan he. Without your good management we should have been a gooddeal worse off than we are. It is the only thing that has kept ourheads above water."
"I am glad you think so, Grant. I have done the best I could, but nomanagement will pay bills without money."
It was quite true that the minister's wife was a woman of excellentpractical sense, who had known how to make his small salary go veryfar. In this respect she differed widely from her learned husband,who in matters of business was scarcely more than a child. But, asshe intimated with truth, there was something better thanmanagement, and that was ready cash.
"To support a family on six hundred dollars a year is very hard,Grant, when there are three children," resumed his mother.
"I can't understand why a man like father can't command a bettersalary," said Grant. "There's Rev. Mr. Stentor, in Waverley, getsfifteen hundred dollars salary, and I am sure he can't comparewith father in ability."
"True, Grant, but your father is modest, and not given to blowinghis own trumpet, while Mr. Stentor, from all I can hear, has a veryhigh opinion of himself."
"He has a loud voice, and thrashes round in his pulpit, as if hewere a--prophet," said Grant, not quite knowing how to finish hissentence.
"Your father never was a man to push himself forward. He is verymodest."
"I suppose that is not the only bill that we owe," said Grant.
"No; our unpaid bills must amount to at least two hundred dollarsmore," answered his mother.
Grant whistled.
Two hundred and sixty-seven dollars seemed to him an immense sum,and so it was, to a poor minister with a family of three childrenand a salary of only six hundred dollars. Where to obtain so large asum neither Grant nor his mother could possibly imagine. Even ifthere were anyone to borrow it from, there seemed no chance to payback so considerable a sum.
Mother and son looked at each other in perplexity. Finally, Grantbroke the silence.
"Mother," he said, "one thing seems pretty clear. I must go to work.I am fifteen, well and strong, and I ought to be earning my ownliving."
"But your father has set his heart upon your going to college,Grant."
"And I should like to go, too; but if I did it would be years beforeI could be anything but an expense and a burden, and that would makeme unhappy."
"You are almost ready for college, Grant, are you not?"
"Very nearly. I could get ready for the September examination. Ihave only to review Homer, and brush up my Latin."
"And your uncle Godfrey is ready to help you through."
"That gives me an idea, mother. It would cost Uncle Godfrey as muchas nine hundred dollars a year over and above all the help I couldget from the college funds, and perhaps from teaching school thiswinter. Now, if he would allow me that sum for a single year and letme go to work, I could pay up all father's debts, and give him a newstart. It would save Uncle Godfrey nine hundred dollars."
"He has set his heart on your going to college. I don't think hewould agree to help you at all if you disappoint him."
"At any rate, I could try the experiment. Something has got to bedone, mother."
"Yes, Grant, there is no doubt of that. Mr. Tudor is evidently inearnest. If we don't pay him, I think it very likely he will refuseto let us have anything more on credit. And you know there is noother grocery store in the village."
"Have you any money to pay him on account, mother?"
"I have eight dollars."
"Let me have that, and go over and see what I can do with him. Wecan't get along without groceries. By the way, mother, doesn't theparish owe father anything?"
"They are about sixty dollars in arrears on the salary."
"And the treasurer is Deacon Gridley?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll tell you what I will do. I'll first go over to thedeacon's and try to collect something. Afterward I will call on Mr.Tudor."
"It is your father's place to do it, but he has no business faculty,and could not accomplish anything. Go, then, Grant, but remember onething."
"What is that, mother?"
"You have a quick temper, my son. Don't allow yourself to speakhastily, or disrespectfully, even if you are disappointed. Mr.Tudor's bill is a just one, and he ought to have his money."
"I'll do the best I can, mother."
CHAPTER II -- GRANT MAKES TWO BUSINESS CALLS
Deacon Gridley had a small farm, and farming was his chiefoccupation, but he had a few thousand dollars laid away in stocksand bonds, and, being a thrifty man, not to say mean, he managed tosave up nearly all the interest, which he added to his originalaccumulation. He always coveted financial trusts, and so it cameabout that he was parish treasurer. It was often convenient for himto keep in his hands, for a month at a time, money thus collectedwhich ought to have been paid over at once to the minister, but thedeacon was a thoroughly selfish man, and cared little how pressedfor money Mr. Thornton might be, as long as he himself derived somebenefit from holding on to the parish funds.
The deacon was mowing the front yard of his house when Grant came upto his front gate.
"Good-morning, Deacon Gridley," said the minister's son.
"Mornin', Grant," answered the deacon. "How's your folks?"
"Pretty well in health," returned G
rant, coming to business at once,"but rather short of money."
"Ministers most gen'ally are," said Deacon Gridley, dryly.
"I should think they might be, with the small salaries they get,"said Grant, indignantly.
"Some of 'em do get poorly paid," replied the deacon; "but I callsix hundred dollars a pooty fair income."
"It might be for a single man; but when a minister has a wife andthree children, like my father, it's pretty hard scratching."
"Some folks ain't got faculty," said the deacon, adding,complacently, "it never cost me nigh on to six hundred dollars ayear to live."
The deacon had the reputation of living very penuriously, and AbramFish, who once worked for him and boarded in the family, said he washalf starved there.
"You get your milk and vegetables off the farm," said Grant, whofelt the comparison was not a fair one. "That makes a great deal ofdifference."
"It makes some difference," the deacon admitted, "but not as much asthe difference in our expenses. I didn't spend more'n a hundreddollars cash last year."
This excessive frugality may have been the reason why Mrs. DeaconGridley was always so shabbily dressed. The poor woman had not had anew bonnet for five years, as every lady in the parish well knew.
"Ministers have some expenses that other people don't," persistedGrant.
"What kind of expenses, I'd like to know?"
"They have to buy books and magazines, and entertain missionaries,and hire teams to go on exchanges."
"That's something," admitted the deacon. "Maybe it amounts to twentyor thirty dollars a year."
"More likely a hundred," said Grant.
"That would be awful extravagant sinful waste. If I was a minister,I'd be more keerful."
"Well, Deacon Gridley, I don't want to argue with you. I came to seeif you hadn't collected some money for father. Mr. Tudor has sent inhis bill, and he wants to be paid."
"How much is it?"
"Sixty-seven dollars and thirty-four cents."
"You don't tell me!" said the deacon, scandalized. "You folks mustbe terrible extravagant."
Grant hardly knew whether to be more vexed or amused.
"If wanting to have enough to eat is extravagant," he said, "then weare."
"You must live on the fat of the land, Grant."
"We haven't any of us got the gout, nor are likely to have,"answered Grant, provoked. "But let us come back to business. Haveyou got any money for father?"
Now it so happened that Deacon Gridley had fifty dollars collected,but he thought he knew where he could let it out for one per cent,for a month, and he did not like to lose the opportunity.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Grant," he answered, "but folks areslow about payin' up, and--"
"Haven't you got any money collected?" asked Grant, desperately.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said the deacon, with a bright idea."I've got fifty dollars of my own--say for a month, till I can makecollections."
"That would be very kind," said Grant, feeling that he had done thedeacon an injustice.
"Of course," the deacon resumed, hastily, "I should have to chargeinterest. In fact, I was goin' to lend out the money to a neighborfor a month at one per cent; but I'd just as lieve let your fatherhave it at that price."
"Isn't that more than legal interest?" asked Grant.
"Well, you see, money is worth good interest nowadays. Ef yourfather don't want it, no matter. I can let the other man have it."
Grant rapidly calculated that the interest would only amount tofifty cents, and money must be had.
"I think father'll agree to your terms," he said. "I'll let you knowthis afternoon."
"All right, Grant. It don't make a mite of difference to me, but ifyour father wants the money he'll have to speak for it to-day."
"I'll see that the matter is attended to," said Grant, and he wenton his way, pleased with the prospect of obtaining money for theirimpoverished household, even on such hard terms.
Next he made his way to Mr. Tudor's store.
It was one of those country variety stores where almost everythingin the way of house supplies can be obtained, from groceries to drygoods.
Mr. Tudor was a small man, with a parchment skin and insignificantfeatures. He was in the act of weighing out a quantity of sugar fora customer when Grant entered.
Grant waited till the shopkeeper was at leisure.
"Did you want to see me, Grant?" said Tudor.
"Yes, Mr. Tudor. You sent over a bill to our house this morning."
"And you've come to pay it. That's right. Money's tight, and I'vegot bills to pay in the city."
"I've got a little money for you on account," said Grant, watchingTudor's face anxiously.
"How much?" asked the storekeeper, his countenance changing.
"Eight dollars."
"Eight dollars!" ejaculated Tudor, indignantly. "Only eight dollarsout of sixty-seven! That's a regular imposition, and I don't care efyour father is a minister, I stick to my words."
Grant was angry, but he remembered his mother's injunction torestrain his temper.
"We'd like to pay the whole, Mr. Tudor, if we had the money, and--"
"Do you think I can trust the whole neighborhood, and only get onedollar in ten of what's due me?" spluttered Mr. Tudor. "Ministersought to set a better example."
"Ministers ought to get better pay," said Grant.
"There's plenty don't get as much as your father. When do you expectto pay the rest, I'd like to know? I s'pose you expect me to go ontrustin', and mebbe six months from now you'll pay me another eightdollars," said the storekeeper, with withering sarcasm.
"I was going to tell you, if you hadn't interrupted me," said Grant,"that we should probably have some more money for you to-morrow."
"How much?"
"Twenty-five dollars," answered the boy, knowing that part of themoney borrowed must go in other quarters. "Will that besatisfactory?"
"That's more like!" said Tudor, calming down. "Ef you'll pay thatI'll give you a leetle more time on the rest. Do you want anythingthis mornin'? I've got some prime butter just come in."
"I'll call for some articles this afternoon, Mr. Tudor. Here are theeight dollars. Please credit us with that sum."
"Well, I've accomplished something," said Grant to himself as heplodded homeward.
CHAPTER III -- GRANT WALKS TO SOMERSET
GODFREY THORNTON, Grant's uncle, lived in the neighboring town ofSomerset. He was an old bachelor, three years older than hisbrother, the minister, and followed the profession of a lawyer. Hisbusiness was not large, but his habits were frugal, and he hadmanaged to save up ten thousand dollars. Grant had always been afavorite with him, and having no son of his own he had formed theplan of sending him to college. He was ambitious that he should be aprofessional man.
It might have been supposed that he would have felt disposed toassist his brother, whose scanty salary he knew was inadequate tothe needs of a family. But Godfrey Thornton was an obstinate man,and chose to give assistance in his own way, and no other. It wouldbe a very handsome thing, he thought, to give his nephew a collegeeducation. And so, indeed, it would. But he forgot one thing. Infamilies of limited means, when a boy reaches the age of fifteen orsixteen he is very properly expected to earn something toward thefamily income, and this Grant could not do while preparing forcollege. If his uncle could have made up his mind to give hisbrother a small sum annually to make up for this, all would havebeen well. Not that this idea had suggested itself to the Rev. JohnThorn-ton. He felt grateful for his brother's intentions towardGrant, and had bright hopes of his boy's future. But, in truth,pecuniary troubles affected him less than his wife. She was themanager, and it was for her to contrive and be anxious.
After Grant had arranged the matters referred to in the precedingchapter, he told his mother that he proposed to go to Somerset tocall on his uncle.
"No, Grant, I don't object, though I should be sorry to have youlose the chance of an educ
ation."
"I have a very fair education already, mother. Of course I shouldlike to go to college, but I can't bear to have you and fatherstruggling with poverty. If I become a business man, I may have abetter chance to help you. At any rate, I can help you sooner. If Ican only induce Uncle Godfrey to give you the sum my education wouldcost him, I shall feel perfectly easy."
"You can make the attempt, my son, but I have doubts about yoursuccess."
Grant, however, was more hopeful. He didn't see why his uncle shouldobject, and it would cost him no more money. It seemed to him veryplain sailing, and he set out to walk to Somerset, full of courageand hope.
It was a pretty direct road, and the distance--five miles--was notformidable to a strong-limbed boy like Grant. In an hour and a halfhe entered the village, and soon reached the small one-storybuilding which served his uncle as an office.
Entering, he saw his uncle busy with some papers at his desk.
The old lawyer raised his eyes as the door opened.
"So it's you, Grant, is it?" he said. "Nobody sick at home, eh?"
"No, Uncle Godfrey, we are all well."
"I was afraid some one might be sick, from your coming over.However, I suppose you have some errand in Somerset."
"My only errand is to call upon you, uncle."
"I suppose I am to consider that a compliment," said the oldbachelor, not ill pleased. "Well, and when are you going to be readyfor college?"
"I can be ready to enter in September," replied Grant.