CHAPTER III.

Sam's first care after awaking on the morning which succeeded the scenes

in the last chapter, was to make some arrangement with old Mr. Andrews

for the boat. The old man was of the easy sort; he had never done much

when young, and now in advanced life depended entirely for the few clams

he wanted upon his son, who lived a short distance from him, and was

growing up in his father's likeness.

'You're welcome, Sam, to use the boat as long as you're amind to, and I

won't ax you nothin' for it; only once in awhile you may bring the old

woman a few clam.'

'I thank you very much, Uncle John; I will take good care of the boat,

and will bring you some clams every day.'

'Oh, no, no, no, Sam; I don't want no sich thing as that; only once in a

while, you see. Jack, he's a gettin' lazy like, and sometimes the old

woman gets tired of fish, and then a few clams is a kind of change for

her.'

Sam's next business was to visit Mr. Grizzle's store, that he might

purchase some article his mother needed.

'There shan't be no more trust, if I can help it,' said he, as he took

up his money-box, and put some of its precious contents into his pocket.

It was quite early in the day, yet several of Mr. Grizzle's customers

were already assembled when Sam reached the store; he had a great

reluctance to enter it, associated as it was in his mind with all that

had been dark and sorrowful in his past experience; but nowhere else

could supplies be obtained. Old Mr. Grizzle was busy behind his counter,

twirling the toddy-stick, saying smart things, or what he took to be so,

for he laughed very heartily at his own wit; and his customers, poor

souls! were so much in his debt that they were obliged to laugh too.

Sam glanced his eye over them all--some were bald with age; some in the

prime of life; and one, he knew him well, a lad but two years older than

himself, was draining the last sweet drop from the cup of poison as Sam

stepped up to the counter.

'Mr. Grizzle, what do you charge for seven pounds of flour?'

'What do I charge?' At the same time putting his spectacles upon his

forehead.

'Yes, sir, what is the price?'

'The price, boy? Why, how does your father want it? for fish or for

trust?'

'We don't want it for neither, sir, but for the money.'

'Ah!--the money. Well, I s'pose we must try to let you have it a little

less; but flour is plaguy dear any how, and I aint got none but rye.'

Sam succeeded in procuring a small deduction, and with that he purchased

some tar.

'I shall tar my boat with what I have saved by paying the money,' said

Sam to himself, as he laid down his cash on the counter; then taking up

his goods went straight on his way.

'That seems to be rather a 'cute boy, Mr. Grizzle--that young Oakum.'

'The younker, I guess, will go ahead of the old man,' said Grizzle, as

he dropped the money Sam had given him through a little hole in the

counter.

An old man, with his thin white locks dangling on his shoulders, placed

his half-emptied tumbler on the bench beside him, and turning his head

very emphatically on one side, said, 'Oakum is naturally a smart man,

and he has got a clever wife, but somehow he don't get along much--no

better than the rest of us.'

'And what is the reason, Uncle John,' said another, addressing the last

speaker, 'that we are all so poor?'

'Why, I s'pose it's to be so--it's our luck, as I take it.'

'Our _luck_?' said the young man, who stood by the door with his hands

in his pockets, looking at the receding form of Sam Oakum, whose light

steps were carrying him far on his way--he laid a strong emphasis on the

word luck.

'Yes, as I take it, it's our luck; a man may work ever so hard, but if

luck is agin him, it's no use.'

'Yes, it is use,' said the same young man; 'that is, if a man would let

rum alone--that makes the bad luck; I wish there had never been a drop

made.'

'What's that you say, Bill? I guess your bitters is gone down the wrong

way this morning.' And old Grizzle laughed heartily, and so did his

customers. Bill, as he was called, laughed a little too, but not as the

rest did.

'S'pose you mix Bill another glass, Mr. Grizzle, and see how that will

go?' And they all laughed again; and to carry the joke through, Grizzle

did prepare another glass, and placing it on the counter,

'There, try that, Bill; but may be you darsen't, you seem to be so

afraid all at once.'

Bill hesitated a moment; the fear of ridicule was too powerful. He

seized the glass, and pouring its contents hastily down his throat, left

the store amidst the uproarious laughter of his companions.

Jim and Ned had collected a much larger quantity of vegetables for their

second trip, and to the baskets of strawberries which they designed as

gifts, added a beautiful nosegay of the earlier flowers.

'Strawberries and flowers,' said Sam, as he was pushing the boat from

the shore; 'your things look tempting indeed; I guess old Peter will hop

round when he sees these.'

'I have brought that small basket on purpose for him; and the flowers I

thought the ladies might be pleased with--I don't think they see many

where they are.'

'It almost makes me feel bad, Jim, to think that I have nothing to carry

worth looking at.'

'Why, it is all one concern, you know, Sam; and I mean to have you hand

them the flowers.'

'I shan't do it, Jim--I should make a pretty figure, with my old patched

clothes and bare feet, handing flowers to ladies and gentlemen!'

'Sam Oakum, if you talk so, you'll make me feel bad; who cares for your

clothes?'

'_You_ don't Jim, I know; but all don't feel as you and Ned do--Keep her

head to the point, Jim, straight as you can.'

Sam had much more rowing to do than on the former trip, the wind not

coming quite so soon to their aid.

Peter was on the look-out for them, and hailed them before they reached

the landing.

'Halloo, my hearties! keep her jist about so--there--ease up--in with

your oars; you've had a long pull to-day--but you'll learn to take it

sailor-fashion after a while.'

The boys were very busy fastening their boat and taking down their sail,

and did not at the moment perceive that any one was present but the old

sailor, until attracted by the bunch of flowers lying on one of the

baskets, he exclaimed,--

'Susie, Susie, look here! did you ever see such posies as these?'

Sam at once seated himself in the stern of the boat, as far out of the

way as possible; while Jim, taking up the flowers, handed them to Peter,

and blushing very much,--

'These are for the lady, if you will be so good as to give them to

her--and this basket of strawberries; and here is one for yourself, sir,

if you will please accept it.'

'Bless your young hearts, to think of the old sailor. I thank you

kindly, boys; but'--putting his face down to Jim, and whispering--'you

won't mind my giving them to this little pet of mine;'--then raising

himself up--'Here, Susie, you carry these flowers to your Ma, and I'll

carry the strawberries;'--then stooping down again, and speaking in a

low voice--'the Major will be here pretty soon; he's busy now--you won't

be none the loser for these, I tell you. He's a real gentleman, and a

liberal soul, and he's got plenty to do with.' And the old man shook his

head very knowingly, making his long queue, as it stuck out in the air,

perform some strange manoeuvres; the boys, however, were diverted from

observing its wonderful gyrations by a sudden attraction towards the

flowers. It must have been that Peter's rapturous praises, or the

delight which they seem to have afforded Miss Susan, had unfolded new

beauties to our boys, for their eyes followed _the flowers_, even when

the young lady buried her pretty face among them to enjoy a fulness of

their fragrance--it could not possibly have been any thing else, Sam was

so very bashful, and Jim so very discreet--but their eyes followed the

flowers, even until the lovely little maiden that carried them was lost

to their view, and entered the castle gate.

Major Morris appeared well pleased with the variety Jim had brought, and

arranged every thing, as to price and measurement, in the same business

manner as before. He then proceeded to speak with him in reference to a

supply for the ensuing winter, enumerating a variety of articles, and

among them beans and potatoes.

'Potatoes we shall have, sir, and perhaps a few beans.'

'I wish to engage three hundred bushels of potatoes, to be well

selected, and of good size, and fifty bushels of beans. If you choose to

make a contract to deliver me these articles in the fall'--at the same

time handing to Jim a strip of paper with the prices annexed--'on these

terms, you can do so; and if you have not so many of your own, you can

doubtless purchase them of your neighbors, so as to pay you well for

your trouble.'

The boys were so confounded by the magnitude of the business proposed to

them, that when the Major ceased speaking, Sam looked at Jim and he at

Sam, and neither of them the wiser for any thing gained from the

countenance of the other--until Sam, as though it was more than he could

stand under, sat down; in doing so, however, he stumbled over his clams

and oysters, which attracted the notice of the Major to them.

'Ah, what have you got there? clams and oysters? I had like to have

forgotten to inquire for them.'

This brought Sam to his senses again; clams and oysters, almost in any

quantities, were familiar to him, but where three hundred bushels of

potatoes and fifty bushels of beans were to come from, was beyond his

comprehension. He soon had his part of the cargo on shore, and as Major

Morris handed him the money, thanked him in a very civil manner.

It was some time before Jim gave any reply to the proposal which had

been made to him, he was so absorbed in thinking; his mind had to run

over all the names of persons likely to have such articles for sale, and

the probable quantity each might be willing to spare. At length, after

thanking Major Morris for giving him such a chance--for he had sense

enough to perceive that it was all in kindness that the offer had been

made--he agreed to accept it.

'And now, my lads, you must go with me, as Mrs. Morris wishes to thank

you personally for the flowers and fruit.'

Again the boys looked at each other, and Sam turned very pale and then

very red, and finally sat down, and made signs to Jim to go along.

Jim knew that it would not be proper to hesitate under such

circumstances, so he prepared at once to follow; while Peter, who always

observed the most perfect silence in the presence of the Major, as soon

as he saw him on the way to the fort, began to make the most furious

gestures imaginable, motioning with his head so violently, that his

queue flew round behind him like a fly-brush; and when he thought there

was no danger of being overheard,--

'Go along; go along, I say! he's axed you himself--go along; it will be

the makin' of you.'

But it was of no avail. Sam shook his head and sat still, until the old

man, having exhausted his means of persuasion, took a seat beside him,

muttering something about 'dumb-founded perverseness.'

Jim had a great curiosity to see what was within the walls of the fort;

but he had only time to catch a glimpse of large guns on

wheel-carriages, and soldiers with glittering muskets; for Major Morris

passed quickly on, and opening a side door in the hall, was at once in

an elegantly furnished apartment, and in the presence of several

fine-looking ladies and the little girl, who still held the bunch of

flowers in close contact with her face.

Jim was not allowed to suffer the least embarrassment; for immediately

on his entrance Mrs. Morris arose, and coming toward him with a pleasant

smile and kindly salutation, thanked him so heartily for the present he

had sent to her, and talked so familiarly with him about his home and

his garden, that he felt as much freedom as though he had been long

acquainted.

'I regret exceedingly,' said Mrs. Morris, 'that I have nothing to offer

you in return for such beautiful fruit; but you must not refuse to taste

some of my cake. Susie, lay down your flowers, if you can part with them

so long, and hand that plate to our young visitor.'

Susie did at once as she was bidden: but she looked so very serious

about it, and walked so very slowly, that Jim would just at that moment

have preferred being in the boat by the side of Sam. She came directly

towards him with the silver plate in her hand, and some rich-looking

cake lying on it; so he had no alternative but to step towards her, and

in the politest manner he could, select a piece. His attention was, of

necessity, directed to the plate; but he could not help giving a glance

at other things. And indeed, Jim, you are not to blame for blushing as

you did, when you encountered the gaze of those sweet blue eyes, which,

in all the unaffected simplicity of youth, were fastened upon you. Her

golden-colored hair, parted smoothly from the fair forehead, and hung in

such a cluster of curls upon her snow-white neck--the rich color that

painted her parting lips, just tinged with the slightest blush her

dimpled cheek. She meant nothing by her gaze; it was only the expression

of an innocent curiosity in reference to the young gentleman she was

waiting upon. His clothes, to be sure, were coarse, and such as well

became the work in which he was engaged; but his collar was very white,

and neatly tied with a black ribbon; and his light-brown hair, so soft

and silky; his fair complexion, his pleasant voice, and good manners,

all made a contrast which she did not understand; and it would seem that

some of the company present, much older than Susie, were equally

surprised.

'What a fine, manly-looking boy! and how well he behaves,' said Mrs.

Morris, as soon as Jim had retired, to an elderly lady richly dressed,

and who, from the peculiar glance she gave to another lady much younger

than herself, while Mrs. Morris and Susie were paying so much attention

to our Jim, felt anything but satisfied at the scene.

'I say, aunt, what a fine little fellow that is!'

'Well, Lettie,' said the elderly lady, shaking her sides a little, as

though it was something so ludicrous that she must laugh--she could not

help it, 'I didn't see anything very extraordinary. Where is he from?

who is he? a son of some of the gentlemen down in the pines here? Mary

and I saw some specimens of their houses--a mansion or two;' and the old

lady laughed so heartily, that she could say nothing more, and the young

lady had to put her handkerchief to her face to hide the emotion which

was agitating her. Mrs. Morris was aware of the peculiarities of this

lady, an aunt of her husband's, and as she unintentionally had opened

the way for a long lecture on the plebeian notions of herself and

husband, she was much relieved by the entrance of the Major, who, full

of praises of 'those manly little fellows,' as he called Jim and Sam,

whom he had just parted with, drew upon himself the storm which Mrs.

Morris came near enduring alone.

'I felt disposed to laugh, I must say, Philip,' addressing the Major,

'to see Lettie paying as much personal respect and attention to a little

market boy, as it seems he is, as though he had belonged to one of our

best and most respectable families. I say, I felt at first disposed to

laugh, but I must say, Philip,' and the old lady straightened herself in

a very decided manner, and began fanning herself very earnestly--'I must

say, that when I saw that dear child, at her mother's bidding, waiting

upon a young clown as though he had been a very gentleman, and when I

thought what blood ran in her veins, it fired my indignation. Such

things ought not to be, Philip; you will demolish all distinctions in

society, or at any rate, bring your own family to feel that it is no

matter whom they associate with, and that one is as good as another.'

The Major suffered his aunt to 'say her say out,' and, knowing as he did

what reason he had personally to set a high estimate on the pedigree to

which she seemed to think it was such an honor to be allied, was

designing some palpable hits for the special benefit of his kindred,

drawn from his own experience; but being a wise man, as well as a

noble-hearted one, he concluded to treat the matter as he saw his wife

was doing, and laugh it off.

'Why, aunt! I thought you had given me up long ago as an incorrigible

boy, who would have his own way. You know, aunt, I began very early in

life to do as I pleased; and having worked my own way up the ladder so

far, it is not strange if I should be a little headstrong, or my notions

of such matters as you have touched upon somewhat peculiar.'

His good aunt had heard enough to refresh her memory on a matter that,

now the subject of it had, as he reminded her, raised himself to

distinction, she, as well as the rest of his kindred, would have been

willing should pass into oblivion; and was well satisfied when the Major

invited her and the other ladies to walk with him upon the ramparts to

witness a fine sight, the passing of a ship of the largest class, under

full sail.

This lady and her daughter will not be subjects of our story; so I will

not trouble the reader with any farther description of them. They belong

to a class often met with in the common walks of life, who, because of

some imaginary value which they attach to the ancestry from which they

have descended, gauge their estimate of others by what they think to be

the equality, or inequality, of their station to that which they suppose

themselves to occupy. Major Morris estimated society by a different

standard; and, as we shall have much to do with him, it may be well to

trace the causes which led him thus to judge.

He was born in a part of our country where the distinctions which

formerly prevailed between the classes of society were still kept up.

His parents were allied to those who claimed the higher ranks of life as

theirs by birth, and struggled hard to maintain their station; but

poverty and death are great levellers, and young Morris found himself,

at twelve years of age, an orphan, without a home, or the means of

support, except that which was afforded him by the charity of his

kindred. He was invited by an uncle to make his house a home, and for a

while enjoyed the privilege of dwelling within a splendid mansion, and

faring sumptuously, and mingling amongst the gay youth that thronged

where abundance flowed. But he soon found that poverty was thought to be

a disgrace, even in nearest kin, by those who would have scorned the

idea of his engaging in any lawful calling whereby he could have earned

his bread, if that calling was not one which, in their view, his

peculiar class could engage in. Young Morris knew nothing of such

distinctions; but he knew that he was poor, and was made, on more than

one occasion, to feel his dependence. His high spirit rebelled; he left

his place of refuge, and took shelter beneath the roof of a poor family,

with whom he labored for a time most cheerfully in earning his daily

bread. From thence he obtained employment in one of our large cities in

the mercantile line; but as he reached the age in which generally a

choice is made of an occupation for life, his feelings prompted to the

military profession. Through the influence of a friend, whom his own

correct deportment had gained, he obtained a commission. His strict

attention to all the rules of the service, his entire devotedness to

every duty committed to him, and his well-established reputation as a

noble-minded and chivalrous officer, gave him favor in high places, and

he rose rapidly to the grade he then held. To a commanding appearance

and most polished manners, he united a kind and benevolent heart, warm

in its sympathies towards every object of distress; and he would have

poured out full streams to every child of want, to the very extent of

his ability. But well for him, as for those he would aid, he had learned

not only to bring others under wholesome discipline, but himself also;

he had learned that some of our best feelings must be under subjection

to prudent counsel, and that he who scatters in profusion, even from the

promptings of a noble heart, is as likely to do evil as good. He had

abundance to bestow, for he had married a lady of great wealth, and the

whole responsibility of its proper use was devolved on him; his lovely

wife had not only committed herself, but all she possessed, entirely to

him. 'She wanted nothing to call her own,' she said, 'but her husband's

heart.'

Nothing could have been more gratifying to Major Morris than his

introduction to our boys. He could sympathise in their feelings; he

could value properly their enterprising spirit, and he had an

opportunity of indulging his kindness of heart in a way that would

stimulate them to exertion.

It would be no easy task to describe the happiness which our boys Jim

and Sam enjoyed, as they drew their skiff to shore that evening, and

separated, each for their several homes. Sam found every thing as

peaceful as his heart could wish, while the wonderful story which he had

to tell excited the astonishment of his parents.

'I don't believe tho', Sam,' said his father, 'you will find so many

beans and potatoes to sell in all this place; and then I don't see how

you are goin' to carry them, nor how you are goin' to pay for them.'

'I don't know much about it, father; but I guess Jim will work it out

some way. He didn't hardly speak a word all the way home; he was

thinking, I know.'

'Perhaps he may manage it, somehow; but I don't well see through it all,

Sam. I can't do much for you myself; only if I had the stuff, I might

build you a bigger boat, and one that would stand the waves better than

the old one you've got.'

'Oh, would you, father?' and Sam's eyes began to glisten; and his

mother, good soul, had to wipe away the tears that her joyful heart

could not restrain--some of the _may-bes_ which had so lately played in

pleasant vision before her, were indeed realised.

I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of Success · 第 3 / 33 章