UNEVEN GOING.
It was with a queer jumble of feelings palpitating in his young bosom
that Terry, attired as never before in his life, set out for Long Wharf
on Monday morning. Blind Alley seemed to swarm with women and
children, who first gazed in wild-eyed astonishment at his appearance,
and then proceeded to give vent to their admiration or envy in remarks
that would have sorely tried the composure of a stump orator hardened
by many campaigns.
[Illustration: "_Terry, attired as never before, set out for Long
Wharf._"]
"The blessed saints presarve us! Did ye ever see the loike?" gasped
Mrs. O'Rafferty, with a side glance at the gutter, where her own Phelim
was hunting for a lost marble, and looking more like a mud-turtle than
a bit of humanity.
"Get on to the hat, will you?" shouted Tim Doolin, his fingers itching
to throw a handful of mud at it, but his head telling him that to do so
would insure a tremendous thrashing, for Terry's prowess with his fists
was not to be gainsaid.
"Sure he's got a place in front of Clayton's, and has to stand there
all day on exhibition," sneered sly Tony Butler, pretending that he
thought Terry was to play the part of a living advertisement for a
well-known ready-made clothing firm.
Through this ordeal Terry hastened with a deprecating smile, as though
to say, "Really, you're making an absurd fuss about a most trifling
matter;" and wisely refraining from any retort, he drew a deep breath
of relief when he reached Water Street, and became merged in the crowd
of well-dressed clerks hurrying to their offices.
On arriving at Long Wharf, he could not resist the impulse to take one
look over his beloved playground before reporting himself at Drummond
and Brown's. He clearly realized that if he would take full advantage
of the opportunity now open to him, the dock would know him no more as
in the past; and besides that, he did want to let his playmates, who
would have his company no longer, see his fine feathers in their
pristine freshness.
The chorus of praise they elicited would have contented a much more
exacting heart than Terry's, and in answering the questions showered
upon him he ran the risk of not being "bright and early," as Mr.
Drummond had enjoined upon him. Happily, however, the boom of the
market clock reminded him in time, and darting back up the wharf he
entered the big warehouse, the front part of whose ground floor was
given up to a suite of offices, in which many of the clerks had already
assembled for the day's work.
Terry's impulse carried him as far as inside the door, and then it
deserted him, leaving him completely stranded. Now that he was in the
office, he had not the slightest idea what to do with himself. The
clerks were busy getting their books out, and chaffing one another as
to the doings of the night before. No one seemed to notice him, and
feeling acutely uncomfortable he shrank into a corner, a longing to run
off again coming over him with great force. He could see nothing of
Mr. Hobart, and in his utter strangeness his heart sank in chill
despair. How remote seemed the possibility of his ever taking his
place among that group of dashing young fellows, who had so much to
tell each other of enjoyments and exploits in spheres of society far
beyond his ken!
A movement that he made in his agitation at length attracted the
attention of a young lad about his own age, who, looking sharply at
him, asked in a rude tone,--
"Well, sonny, what is it you want?"
For a moment Terry was nonplussed for a reply. How could he explain
his position to this saucy-looking inquirer? Then by a happy
inspiration, it occurred to him to ask for his friend of Saturday
afternoon, and in a low, hesitating voice he said,--
"I want to see Mr. Hobart, please."
"Say, there, Walter!" shouted the clerk, in the direction of an inner
office, "there's a young kid asking for you here. Did you forget to
pay your washer-woman on Saturday night?"
Mr. Hobart appeared quickly, and the moment his eyes fell upon Terry
(who even in the midst of his discomposure had his wits sufficiently
about him to take in the meaning of the clerk's impertinence, and his
eyes were brimming in consequence) he sprang towards the speaker, and
seizing him by the collar, gave him a vigorous shaking, saying
meanwhile in indignant tones,--
"See here, Morley: if you don't keep your sauce to yourself, you'll get
something worse than a shaking. Do you know who that is? It's the boy
who saved Miss Drummond's life, and he's got the makings of a better
man in him than you have, or I'm much mistaken." Then turning to Terry
he continued, as he released his hold on Morley, "Come right inside
here, Terry, and I'll introduce you to the boys."
The appearance of his friend, and the warmth with which he took up his
cause, worked a complete revolution in Terry's feelings. The tears
vanished from his eyes, and with a broad smile lighting up his
countenance he obeyed Mr. Hobart's bidding; while Morley, looking very
much crestfallen, and displaying a malignant scowl that boded no good
to the new-comer, went sullenly back to his desk.
Mr. Hobart introduced Terry to each of the clerks, and they all shook
hands with him cordially. His gallant rescue of their employer's
daughter prepared them to like him, and his honest, good-humoured face
disarmed, for the time at least, any feelings of opposition to his
entry into their ranks. There were nearly a dozen of them altogether,
from the senior book-keeper, gray-bearded and spectacled, down to Tom
Morley, whose work it was to look after collecting the wharfage. Mr.
Hobart held the responsible post of finance-clerk. He attended to all
the banking; paid the labourers on Friday evenings and made out the
salary cheques at the end of the month; and by virtue of the importance
of his duties, and the evident favour in which he was held by the firm,
stood next to the book-keeper in the estimation of his associates.
Terry was very fortunate in having his support at the start,
particularly as he had taken a decided liking to the boy, and was quite
willing to act as his patron, and to pilot him through the difficulties
of his new surroundings.
The Civil War in the United States was then at its height, and Halifax,
as a neutral port, open to the vessels of both contestants for
supremacy, occupied a peculiarly advantageous position. Never before
in the history of the city had business been brisker or money more
plentiful. Hardly a day passed without its quota of steamships or
sailing-vessels pressing into the splendid harbour, and willing to pay
almost any price in good gold for immediate attention.
Nor were these profitable customers of the harmless merchant class
only. From time to time there appeared grim men-of-war, looking
terribly business-like with their rows of black-muzzled guns; and now
and then the whole city was thrown into excitement by the sudden advent
of one of the far-famed Confederate cruisers, which did such fearful
damage to Federal commerce--as, for instance, the renowned
_Tallahassee_, whose trim black form came dashing through the white
caps one fine summer morning, while far out in the offing a keen eye
could discern the dark shapes of her disappointed pursuers.
But most interesting of all such visitors were the blockade-runners,
the _Colonel Lamb_, the _Robert E. Lee_, and the like. Marvels of
beauty and speed they were, their low, graceful hulls painted a soft
gray tint, so as to make them invisible at sea when only a few miles
distant; and in the eyes of the Halifax boys every man on board was a
hero, and the object of profound admiration.
This feeling, moreover, was by no means confined to the boys. If at
any time during the war a poll of the Haligonians had been taken, the
majority in favour of the South would certainly have been very large.
Self-interest, no doubt, had much to do with this state of affairs;
and, besides that, there was current the belief that the South was
fighting for freedom rather than for the maintenance of slavery.
The firm of Drummond and Brown having had extensive business
connections with the Southern States for many years before the war, it
was but natural that Long Wharf should be the favoured resort of the
Confederate vessels. The blockade-runners, without exception, docked
there; and, as a matter of course, from the heads of the firm down to
the humblest toiler on the wharf, everybody belonging to the
establishment was Confederate to the core.
As for Terry Ahearn, so fervent was his sympathy with the South, that
up to the time of his being taken into the office, had he ever received
any encouragement, he would have unhesitatingly joined himself to the
crew of a blockade-runner in any capacity they would have for him.
Happily for him they had no use for boys on board these vessels, and
his desires remained unrealized, until the opening up of a new life to
him through his being taken into Mr. Drummond's employment diverted his
thoughts into an altogether different channel.
Certainly he had much to think about during the first period of his
clerkship. It was a big change for a boy to make in a day--from
careless, idle play in ragged clothes about a dock, varied by an
occasional trip coastward, when he could persuade the captain of one of
the many packet schooners to take him along as an extra hand, to
steady-going service in an office, with the accompanying requirements
of always being neat, well-dressed, and respectful in demeanour to
those about him.
And greatly as Terry rejoiced in the sudden advance, he would have been
more than mortal if he had not found his new environment bristling with
difficulties which neither the favour of Mr. Drummond nor the friendly
offices of Mr. Hobart could materially help him to overcome. He did
not fail to feel keenly the marked contrast between his own speech and
manners and those of Tom Morley, for instance; nor was he blind to the
fact that his educational equipment was deplorably deficient. How
bitterly he regretted that he had not taken more advantage of his
opportunities at school, and how fervently he vowed to do his best to
make up lost ground so far as might be possible!
It was no slight addition to his embarrassments that all unwittingly he
had at the very start incurred the enmity of Tom Morley, who
thenceforward did everything that he dared to annoy him. Tom was a
clever boy himself, and had enjoyed many advantages in his bringing up.
He took to business as naturally as a duck to water, and but for
certain characteristics, would have been held in high esteem in the
office.
Unhappily, however, he had a sly, jealous, selfish nature, that soon
revealed itself, because, forsooth, he made little attempt to conceal
it, and this effectually barred his way to popularity.
Even without the _contretemps_, for which he alone was responsible, on
the morning Terry first came to the office, Morley would have taken a
dislike to Terry simply because of his good fortune. Now that there
was double cause for such a feeling, he let it have full play, and if
poor Terry had done him some mortal injury he could not have shown a
more vicious spirit towards him. He mimicked his brogue for the
amusement of his fellow-clerks; he made sneering remarks about his
clothes; he played practical jokes upon him to raise a laugh at his
expense; in fact, he behaved so abominably towards him, that there were
times when only the restraining influence of his surroundings kept
Terry back from rushing upon him with clenched fists. Being thus
beset, Terry found his lot far harder than he had conceived, and needed
all the help that came to him from his mother's sympathy, Mr.
Drummond's kindly interest, and Mr. Hobart's good-humoured helpfulness,
in order to keep up his courage. It was, therefore, a welcome
inspiration to him when, on the Saturday following the rescue, Miss
Drummond appeared at the office, quite recovered from her startling
experience, and as soon as she arrived asked for her rescuer.
In some trepidation Terry went into Mr. Drummond's sanctum, where he
was warmly welcomed by the young lady.
"Why, Terry, how well you look!" she exclaimed, beaming radiantly upon
him. "I'm so glad you're in my father's office. I know you're going
to make a capital clerk."
Terry could find nothing to say; so Miss Drummond went on,--
"I believe, Terry, that an important thing in a clerk is to be always
in time, and as I want you to have no difficulty on that score, I got
this little timekeeper for you, and am going to ask you to wear it in
memory of to-day week, so that you won't forget the service that you
rendered me then."
While thus speaking she took from her reticule a small watch in a
silver case, with a neat silver charm attached, and opening the case
showed Terry where his name in full was engraved inside, and underneath
it the words, "In recognition of rescue," with the proper date appended.
Drawing Terry towards her, she secured the watch in his vest, while he
did his best to stammer out his gratitude.
"Never mind about thanks, Terry," said Miss Drummond. "You may
consider it your medal for life-saving, you know. And never forget,
Terry, that in business a good watch is the next best thing to a good
conscience."
Terry went back to his place in a tumult of joy and pride. Naturally
enough, the first thing he did was to show his new treasure to Mr.
Hobart and the others. They all admired it, and congratulated him;
except Morley, who, professing to be very much engrossed in his work,
bent a scowling face over his desk. Terry's good fortune had affected
him in the same way that Joseph's rather indiscreet relation of his
dreams affected his elder brethren, so that without any other cause of
offence he came to "hate him, and could not speak peaceably unto him."
As may be easily understood, Terry gave him many chances to vent his
baseless spite. Everything about the office was utterly new to him.
The days were full of blunders, and whenever these were explained there
was Morley enjoying the poor boy's discomfiture, and, if Mr. Hobart did
not happen to be at hand, letting fall cutting remarks that made Terry
wince as though they were strokes of a whip.
Although none of the other clerks showed the same spirit as Morley,
still they did not attempt to interfere, partly because they thought
that Terry needed to be "licked into shape," and partly because they
did not approve of his advent quite as cordially as Mr. Hobart. He was
of a different class from them, and they could not sympathize with him
in the same degree as if he were one of themselves.
Thus the new way that had been opened up to Terry proved to be set
thick with difficulties, which would severely test his qualities of
self-control and determination in order to their overcoming; and when
the boy's previous life and surroundings were taken into account, the
chances could hardly be said to be in his favour.
Mr. Hobart, it is true, showed every disposition to befriend him; but
he was a very busy man, the hardest worker on the whole staff, and
there were days when a kind, encouraging smile as he bustled about his
work was all the communication Terry had with him.
It soon became clear to Terry that he must fight his own battles--that,
as Mr. Drummond had said, he must make his own way--and it was with
many misgivings as to the result that he set himself to the undertaking.