ARCHIE DETERMINES TO GO TO THE CITY TO WORK--LEAVING HOME AT NIGHT.
ARCHIE DUNN was not more ambitious than many other boys of his age,
but he possessed one quality which is not developed in every boy,
determination. Once Archie decided upon doing a thing, once he had made
up his mind that it was truly a good thing to do, nothing could keep him
from putting his plans into action, and making an effort, at least, to
accomplish his ends. Most boys of seventeen have not decided what they
want to become when they are men, and, until his visit to the city,
Archie was equally at sea concerning his future. He knew, of course,
that he wanted to be rich and famous, but when he tried to think up
some suitable profession which would bring him these possessions, he was
never able to decide.
The two days in the city with Uncle Henry had opened to his boyish
mind a new world, and when he returned to the humble home surrounded by
gardens, he felt that he would never be satisfied to live and work in
this small town. There was now no question in his mind but what the city
was the place for any one who wished to become either rich or famous. It
would certainly be impossible for him to make a name for himself in this
village, while in the city he would have every opportunity for improving
himself, and advancing himself in every way. He wondered, indeed, that
he had never thought of going to New York before, and was disgusted with
himself when he thought of the time he had wasted here at home.
But there was no use in thinking of the past. The thing to do now was to
get to the city as quickly as possible, for to Archie every day seemed
precious, and each delay kept him further from the consummation of
his hopes. It never occurred to the boy that his mother might have
objections to his leaving home. She had always been very ambitious for
his future, and he supposed that she would be delighted at the idea
of having her boy in the great city, where he would have innumerable
chances for improving himself. So when they sat on the front porch,
one evening, and he told her of his plan, he was surprised to hear his
mother pleading with him to remain at home. “Archie,” she said, “I am
almost sure you will come to some bad end in the city. You really must
not go, for my sake, if for no other reason.”
“But, mother, I can’t remain here in town always. I must go out into
the world some time to earn a living and make a place for myself, and I
think the sooner I go the better, don’t you?”
“Yes, Archie, but you’re so young, and you’ve had no experience. You
have no idea of the things there are in great cities to drag young men
down. I don’t think I could stand it to have you so far away from home
and in such danger.”
“Well, mother,” said Archie, “there isn’t much use in arguing about it.
I have reached a point where I don’t think I can be any longer satisfied
at home. I have been here seventeen years, and I think I can remain here
that much longer without improving myself. In the city I am sure I can
make rapid progress, and in a year or two you can come there and live
with me.”
Archie got up from the porch and went down the street, while poor Mrs.
Dunn ran over next door to see her neighbour, Mrs. Sullivan. When she
had entered the disorderly kitchen, and seated herself on one of the
home-made chairs, the anxious mother burst into tears. “I don’t know
what to think of Archie, Mrs. Sullivan,” she said. “He is determined,
now, to go to New York, and I know that if he goes I will never be able
to see him again. I am nigh distracted with worrying over it. I have
talked with him, but he seems determined, and I know I can never hold
out against his entreaties and arguments.”
“Sure, now, Mrs. Dunn,” said the Widow Sullivan, “don’t yez be a
worryin’ about ‘im at all. That Archie is a smart boy, he is, and if he
goes to New York he’ll come out all right, never fear, I only wish my
Dannie had as much get-up about him as your boy.”
“Yes, yes, Archie is very ambitious for his age,” said Mrs. Dunn, “but
I sometimes wish he were less so. I know I could keep him at home longer
if he wasn’t so anxious to be at work. I don’t believe I can let him go,
Mrs. Sullivan, not yet. I want him to stay in school another year, and
then I’ll think about it.”
“Well, ye’re wise, Mrs. Dunn, ye’re a wise woman,” said the Widow
Sullivan. “Since yer husband died ye’ve been a good mother to the lad,
and have brought ‘im up well. And now, how is yer chickens, Mrs. Dunn?
Have ye got that cochin hen a ‘settin’’ yit?”
And the two women began to discuss their various fowls, and the
conversation was so interesting that Mrs. Dunn remained late, and found
Archie in bed when she went home. “Ah, well, poor boy, I’ll have to tell
him of my decision in the morning. He’ll be terribly disappointed, and I
hate to do it I’m afraid it’s selfishness that makes me want to keep
him with me. I almost wish he would take things into his own hands, and
start for the city himself. I would be rid then of the responsibility
of sending him, and the question would be settled for me. Boys sometimes
know best how to settle their own difficulties, anyhow.”
Mrs. Dunn kneaded the bread before retiring, for to-morrow was Saturday,
and, therefore, baking-day, and then she went into her little room
off the kitchen, and prayed earnestly for her boy before sleeping.
She prayed that she might be helped in advising him, and that he might
always do what was best for himself and for his mother.
The next day was Saturday, and in the morning the Hut Club met, as
usual, and prepared to have an open-air dinner for this day. The
furnace, which had been knocked down during the week by the East Siders,
was rebuilt, and the skillet and other utensils were brought from the
nearest kitchens. Archie went to the grocery around the corner and
bought five cents’ worth of cakes, and then the six boys sat down in
a circle and prepared to devour their home-made feast. But before they
began Archie stood up. “I want to say that this will probably be my
farewell dinner with the club,” he said, in a low tone, “and I hope that
you will appoint another president in my place.”
The boys were horror-struck, but Archie refused to explain where and
when he was going. Finally, they refused to appoint another president,
all agreeing that Archie should hold that office for ever, wherever he
was. And the meal was eaten in silence, for the announcement had thrown
a sort of chill over the proceedings. When they had finished, Archie
silently shook hands with each of the boys, who were dumb with
amazement, gathered up his skillet and coffee-pot, and went home through
the gate to the chicken-lot.
“I wonder what he’s goin’ to do,” they all said, as in one breath, and
as there was seldom much fun in the club when Archie was absent, they
all went home in a few minutes, or down-town to watch the farmers, who
were in town to do their weekly buying.
When Archie reached home he went up-stairs to his little room, and began
to lay out a few things which he wanted to take with him, for he had
determined to start for New York this very night. Then he tied the
things up in a small bundle, and sat down to write a note to his mother.
When he had finished it, he pinned it up at the head of his cot, and
this is what it said:
“MY DARLING MOTHER:--Please don’t worry about me, I’m bound to
come through all right, and if anything happens to me, I promise
that I will write to you immediately and let you know. I have the
ten dollars which I have saved, and if I don’t get work at once I
will write to you for some more. Now, I am not doing this thing for
the sake of adventure, but because I am sure it is the best thing
for me, and I don’t want you to worry at all. I shall write to you
often and let you know just what I’m doing, so don’t worry, but be
a brave mother. I’m not going off this way as a sneak, but because
I want to avoid a ‘scene.’
“Your loving
“ARCHIE.”
And at three o’clock the next morning Archie Dunn got out of bed,
shouldered his bundle, and started off for the great city, which seemed
to be drawing him like a magnet.