WORK.
"Oscar, go down cellar and get some coal," said Mrs. Preston one
evening, when the fire was getting low.
"I 'm reading--you go and get it, Ralph," said Oscar, without looking
up from the newspaper in his hand.
"No, I shan't," replied Ralph; "I 've done all your chores to-day, and
I won't do any more."
"Tell Bridget to bring it up, then," added Oscar, his eyes still
fastened upon his paper.
"Oscar," said Mrs. Preston, sharply, "I told you to get it, and do you
obey me, this minute. Bridget has worked hard all day, and Ralph has
already had to do several errands and jobs that you ought to have done,
and that is the reason why I did not ask them to get the coal. You
have done nothing but play, when you were out of school, since morning,
and now, when I ask you to do a trifling thing, you try to shirk it
upon somebody else. I do wish you would break yourself of your
laziness, and have a little consideration for other people."
Oscar reluctantly obeyed his mother's order. Indeed, it was seldom
that he was very prompt to obey, when any kind of labor was required of
him. He had a peculiar knack of getting rid of work. If he was
directed to do a thing, he was almost sure to try to coax Alice, or
Ella, or Ralph, or Bridget, or somebody else, to do it for him. He
never taxed his own legs, or hands, or muscles, when he could make use
of other people's. This lazy habit was a source of no small anxiety to
his mother, and was a constant annoyance to all the family.
"Well, you did make out to get it," said Mrs. Preston, in a pleasant
tone, when Oscar returned with the coal. "I hope it did n't hurt you
much."
"I was n't afraid of its hurting me," said Oscar "but I was reading,
and did n't want to stop."
"I am afraid that is only an excuse," replied his mother. "It has
really got to be a habit with you to call upon somebody else, whenever
you are told to do a thing. We have all noticed it, a hundred times,
and you alone seem to be blind to it. In a year or two, when you are
old enough to leave school, and go to a place, what do you suppose you
will be good for, if you keep on in this way? Why, the man who should
take you into his employ, would have to hire another boy on purpose to
wait upon you."
"It is just as mother says, Oscar," added his eldest sister, Alice.
"It was only this morning that Bridget was scolding, because you wanted
to be waited upon so much. She says you make her more trouble than all
the rest of us together."
Oscar could not deny these charges, and so he said nothing, but
appeared to be reading his newspaper very intently. Mr. Preston came
in soon after, and the family sat down to tea.
"Oscar," said Mr. Preston, "next week is vacation, is it not?"
"Yes, sir," replied Oscar.
"Well, I shall want you in the store a part of the time," continued his
father. "Frank is going home to spend Thanksgiving, and as it will be
a busy week with us, we must have somebody to take his place."
"Why can't Henry do the errands while Frank is away?" inquired Oscar.
"Because Henry will have as much other work as he can attend to,"
replied Mr. Preston.
"I don't see why you let Frank go off at such a time," said Oscar,
pettishly.
"It is not necessary that you should see," replied his father. "I can
manage my business without any advice from you, and I don't want you to
call me to account for what I do. I have given Frank a vacation, and I
shall expect assistance from you--that is all it is necessary for you
to know about it."
Frank was the errand-boy in Mr. Preston's shop. Henry, upon whom Oscar
wished to lay the burden occasioned by Frank's absence, was a young
clerk, who had formerly served as chore-boy, but was now quite useful
as a salesman.
It was evident, from Oscar's looks, that he did not much relish the
idea of taking Frank's place for a week. His mother, noticing this,
said:
"Why, Oscar, I thought you and Frank were good friends, and I should
suppose you would be willing to relieve him a few days. The poor boy
has been away from his mother nearly a year, and it is natural that he
should want to go home and spend Thanksgiving. If you were in his
place, and he in yours, don't you think you should like the arrangement
your father proposes?"
"I suppose I should," replied Oscar; "but it's hard for me to lose my
vacation, for the sake of letting him have one."
"You will not lose all your vacation," said his father "If you are
lively, you can do all I shall want you to do in four or five hours,
and have the rest of the day to yourself."
"And I 'll help you, too," said Ralph, who was always ready to offer
his assistance in such a case as this.
"Thanksgiving week" soon arrived, and the busy note of preparation for
the approaching festival was heard throughout the house. Bridget was
invested with a new dignity, in the eyes of the children, as she
bustled about among the mince-meat and the pie-crust, the eggs and the
milk, the fruit and the spices, that were to be compounded into all
sorts of good things. The house was filled with savory odors from the
oven, and long rows of pies began to fill up every vacant space in the
closet. Mrs. Preston was busy, superintending the operations of the
household; while Alice and Ella rendered such assistance as they could,
in the chopping of pie-meat, the paring of apples, the picking of
raisins, &c. The boys, for their share, had an unusual number of
errands to run, to keep the busy hands inside supplied with working
materials. Oscar, however, was released for the week from all home
chores, in consideration of his engagements at the store.
Oscar did not find his duties as temporary store-boy quite so irksome
or disagreeable as he anticipated. The work was light, and the novelty
of it served to offset the confinement, which he had dreaded more than
anything else. With some assistance from Ralph, he managed to do all
that was required of him, and still have several hours each day for
play. He also had an opportunity to learn some useful lessons during
the week.
One morning, his father sent him up-stairs to sweep out a room which
was devoted to a certain branch of the business. Happening to go into
it an hour or two after, Mr. Preston observed that it was in a dirty
state, and called to Oscar to get a broom and sprinkler, and come up.
"I told you to sweep this room out," said he, as Oscar made his
appearance; "did you forget it?"
"I _have_ swept it," said Oscar, in a tone of surprise.
"You have?" exclaimed Mr. Preston, with an air of incredulity; "I guess
you are mistaken. You may have shaken the broom at it, but I don't
think you swept it. See there--and there--and there,"--and he pointed
out numerous little heaps of dirt, and scraps of paper, which had
escaped Oscar's broom. "Now," he continued, "let me show you how to
sweep. In the first place, always sprinkle the floor a little, to
prevent the dust flying, as I told you a day or two ago. You omitted
that this morning, did n't you?"
"Yes, sir," replied Oscar.
"Well, just remember it hereafter, for the dust injures the goods.
There 's water enough, now pass me the broom, and I 'll show you how to
handle it. Look, now--that 's the way to sweep--get all the dirt out
from the corners and crevices, and along the edges, and under the
counters. Use the broom as though you meant to do something, and were
not afraid of it. There, that 's the way to sweep clean--so--and so,"
and Mr. Preston continued his explanations and illustrations, until he
had swept the entire floor.
"There, now, does n't that look better?" he added, after he had
finished sweeping. "If a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth
doing well--that's the true doctrine, Oscar. I hope you won't get in
the habit of making half-way work with whatever you undertake. If I
never expected to do anything but sweep chimneys or dig clams for a
living, I would do it thoroughly and faithfully. Of all things, I
despise a lazy, slovenly workman."
It was a very common thing with Oscar to slight his work, when he could
not get rid of it entirely. This was partly the result of a want of
interest in it, and partly the result of habit. The child who performs
a task reluctantly, will not be very likely to do it well.
The day before Thanksgiving, as Oscar was on his way to the store,
after dinner, he met Alfred Walton.
"You 're just the chap I 'm after, Oscar," said Alfred; "I'm going out
to Cambridge, all alone in a wagon, and I want you to go with me.
Come, jump in and go, won't you?"
This was a tempting invitation to Oscar, but he did not see how he
could accept it. He was needed at the store more than ever, that
afternoon, but it was too bad to lose such a fine chance to enjoy
himself. Alfred was in a hurry, and could not stop long for him to
consider the matter. So he concluded to run home, and ask his father's
permission, while Alfred went and got the horse ready. But when he got
home, his father had left. He found Ralph, however, who readily agreed
to take his place at the store, for the afternoon; and on the strength
of this arrangement, he hurried to the hotel and rode off with Alfred.
It was a mild, pleasant afternoon, and the boys had a fine ride.
Alfred had been among horses so much, that he understood their
management pretty well, and was a very good driver. He prided himself
on his ability to turn a neat corner, and to steer through the
narrowest and most crooked passage-ways, such as abound in the
contracted and crowded streets of a city. When they reached the broad
avenues of Cambridge, he allowed Oscar to take the reins awhile, at his
request.
Alfred's step-father had been out to Cambridge, in the forenoon of the
same day, and had purchased a horse at the cattle-market which is held
weekly at that place. As he was obliged to return home by the cars, he
left word that he would send out for the horse, in the afternoon. This
was Alfred's errand. After several inquiries, the boys found the man
who sold the horse. Having examined the new purchase, and freely
expressed their opinions of the animal's "points," they hitched his
halter to the wagon, and set out for home.
The sun was rapidly descending, when the boys reached the hotel stable.
Oscar, who felt somewhat uneasy about his absence from the store,
turned his steps in that direction, soon after he alighted from the
wagon. He found all hands very busy, and for a long time no one
appeared to notice him. At length his father happened to come to the
part of the shop where he was, and asked him where he had been all the
afternoon. Oscar proceeded to explain the cause of his absence, but
Mr. Preston was in too much of a hurry to listen to his long excuses,
and so he cut him short, and told him, in not very pleasant tones, that
Ralph had done the work, and he (Oscar) might go home again, just as
soon as he pleased--a privilege of which he quickly availed himself.
At the tea-table, that evening, Mr. Preston expressed his displeasure
with Oscar's conduct in very pointed terms. Oscar now explained the
circumstances of his going away--his attempt to get his father's
consent, and the promise of Ralph to supply his place. But the
explanation did not satisfy Mr. Preston. He said Oscar knew he was
needed that afternoon, and he ought not to have asked to go away, or
even to have thought of it. Even if Ralph was willing to do his work,
he did not like his putting so much upon his younger and weaker
brother. He then complimented Ralph for his industry, and his
willingness to make himself useful, and held him up to Oscar as a
pattern he would do well to imitate. He concluded his lecture to the
latter, by drawing from his pocket a quarter of a dollar, and
presenting it to Ralph, as a reward for his services. This touched
Oscar's feelings rather more than his father's reproofs. He thought to
himself that he had performed as much work in the store as Ralph, to
say the least, and was therefore as much entitled to a reward as he.
There was this difference, however, which he entirely overlooked: Oscar
did his share of the work reluctantly and from compulsion; Ralph did
his cheerfully and voluntarily, and solely for the purpose of making
himself useful.