Mr. Leonard was the proprietor of a large wholesale dry-goods house, on
Market street. He dealt extensively in the richer qualities of goods,
and cases of costly silks, rich shawls, and other expensive fabrics
were constantly imported by him.
There were a dozen or more salesmen, porters, etc., employed about the
store, besides the numerous clerks in the counting-house, and in the
business hours of the day the long, wide store bustled with activity
till it seemed a very bee-hive of commerce.
A few days after his interview with Mr. Leonard found our young hero
duly installed as office-boy and general utility in the store. His
employer had found him a more creditable suit of clothes, and given him
some useful instruction as to personal cleanliness, politeness, etc.
He had succeeded in greatly improving the outward appearance of the
boy, but his mental crookedness was not to be so easily straightened.
Will was essentially the same lad who had spent his life till now in
street avocations, with intervals of fishing, lounging, swimming,
fighting and saucing.
He took hold of business with a vim that promised well for his future
usefulness, doing the work given him so rapidly and well as to greatly
please his employer.
But there was no curbing his tongue, and more than one spat occurred
between him and the salesmen, before he had been a day in the store.
Before the end of the first week there was an outbreak which threatened
to end his engagement.
“Here, boy, take this roll of cloth down to the store and give it to
Mr. Johnson. Look alive, now, he is waiting for it.”
This imperative address was made by a nervous, quick-spoken salesman,
named Robert Brown.
Will was employed in opening a case of goods. He looked up with a
glance of disdain.
“I’ve took in another job,” he said. “Ain’t doin’ two things at once.
You know the way down. Tote it down yourself.”
“What do you mean, you young rascal?” cried the man, in a passion. “If
you stay in this place you will have to do what you are told or you’ll
be helped. Take this down at once.”
“What’s goin’ to happen if I don’t?” said Will, dropping the tool he
had been using.
“I’ll send you spinning down-stairs and out of the store door in a
hurry,” said the man, still fuming.
“Look here, Mr. Brown, or Bob Brown, if you like it better, maybe
you don’t know that you’re barking up the wrong tree,” said Will,
insolently. “Ordering ain’t in my line. Ask me like a gentleman and
I’ll stand on my head for you; but I’m not a feller that’s used to
bein’ kicked by any man’s toe or tongue, either.”
“Then you won’t take it down?”
“I’ll see you so far t’other side of nowhere that a forty-horse team
couldn’t draw you back in a lifetime, afore I’ll take it an inch.”
Will returned to his former task of opening the case.
Mr. Brown’s face was purple with rage, and the veins stood out on his
forehead, as he listened to this unexampled rebellion.
“Why, you ragged young reprobate, who was only brought here by
charity!” he cried, hotly. “Hang me if I don’t kick you down-stairs
myself, and fling the goods after you!”
Suiting the action to the word he grasped Will with a nervous grip, and
sought to hustle him to the head of the stairs.
But if ever man caught a Tartar, Mr. Brown had done so in this action.
Will lifted the iron tool in his hand with an impulse to strike his
assailant. With another impulse he threw it from him, and used his
sinewy limbs with a vigor which Mr. Brown had not dreamed of his
possessing.
In a moment he had torn loose from his grasp, and by an alert trip had
stretched his foe on his back on the floor.
“That’s the way I pile up my shingles!” cried Will exultingly. “Come to
time, old hoss. I’ve chawed up better men than you.”
The language of the street, which he had partly laid aside, came back
to Will in his excitement.
The furious salesman sprung to his feet and rushed at the boy with
clinched fists. Two other men, who had been engaged with them on the
third floor of the building, hurried up.
“Hold there, Bob!” cried one of these. “Don’t try that on a boy.”
“Let him alone,” said Will, as he deftly parried his blows. “He’s
my meat. I wasn’t brung up on free fights to back down from a
counter-hopper.”
But the man who had spoken pushed between and separated them, just as
Will planted his fist with a stinging blow on Brown’s left cheek.
“Come, come, Bob!” said the peacemaker, “that’s no way to settle
disputes with a boy. If the fellow has been impudent report him to Mr.
Leonard, but never try your fists on a boy.”
Mr. Brown did report, and Will was sent for to Mr. Leonard’s office.
Our hero proved a very poor hand at giving evidence in his own favor,
but the men who had separated them described the whole occurrence.
“Don’t let anything like this happen again,” said Mr. Leonard, after
lecturing Will, severely. “Mr. Brown placed himself in the wrong or I
would have to discharge you. Don’t misuse the confidence I have placed
in you.”
“All right,” said Will, independently. “But the man that tries to wipe
his feet on me is goin’ to touch ground with his nose, that’s all.”
This episode did not injure Will’s standing in the store, for Mr. Brown
was not a general favorite.
His good-humor and willingness to work soon gained him friends, and
faults were excused in him that would have proved fatal otherwise to
his position.
He had a fine voice, and sung ditties with wonderful vim. He could
dance like a negro minstrel, could tumble like an acrobat, and had more
tricks than a circus clown.
Nothing pleased him better than to get on one of the upper floors, out
of sight of customers, and treat the admiring clerks to a taste of his
quality.
His chief trouble, in such cases, sprung from the new clothes in which
Mr. Leonard had dressed him.
“It’s a gallus rig. I’ll give in,” he said, “but I ain’t been used to
fancy fixin’s. There goes the coat, and here goes the vest, and up go
the sleeves, and now I’m in trim for work. P’int out what you want done
and I’m in.”
“Nothing just now, Will. Let us have that ole Virginny break-down.”
“Yes, I see myself waltzing round on my ear for you, and no pianner
music, and not even a jews-harp. Don’t dance till I hear a tune.
Whistle up, somebody, my boot-soles is itching.”
One of the men whistled a quick tune, and Will’s feet rattled over the
floor in the most astonishing steps, relieving his feelings now and
then by a somerset, or a dance on his hands.
“Hi, lads! let the music out,” he cried. “That’s your style! Heel and
toe. Ain’t I a screamer? Just observe me.”
The next instant he was at the top of a high step-ladder, singing a
negro melody for dear life, and keeping time with hands and feet on the
boards.
“Hush! here comes Mr. Leonard,” cried a scout. “He has heard all that
rascally noise. Limber up and get to work _quick_.”
The men hastened to various avocations, somewhat to Will’s surprise. He
was as honest as the sun, and would never have thought of such deceit.
He had, all his life, fathered all his actions.
When Mr. Leonard appeared, Will was seated in his shirt-sleeves on a
dry-goods box, whistling in a low tone, and keeping time with his heels.
Mr. Leonard looked inquiringly around, a look of displeasure on his
face.
“What has been going on here!” he asked, sharply. “I heard an uproar
all the way down to my office. You are all suddenly at work. What have
you been doing, boy?”
“Nothing. Only killing time,” said Will, indifferently. “We kinder run
out of work, and I wanted to learn these fellows a South street wharf
break-down. Want to see me do it?”
Will jumped from his box and struck an attitude.
“No. And I want less noise and commotion. If you wish to stay in my
employment you must learn to curb yourself a little. Let us have no
more such performances.”
“You suit me fu’st-rate so fur. Got no notion of dischargin’ you yet,”
said Will. “But what’s to be done? I can’t hold in. It’s out of the
question. There’d be something bu’st sure.”
“Well,” said Mr. Leonard, turning on his heel to hide a broad smile. “I
must give you some out-door work--send you on errands. Can I trust you
to do them correctly?”
“I dunno. Won’t make no promises. You can try me. That’s the way
to find out. I know everything and everybody out of doors; that’s
something.”
“Very well; I will try you.”
Thenceforth Will varied his store duties with out-door avocations, his
quick and intelligent performance of which gave much satisfaction.