A VISIT TO THE FACTORY.
During dinner the old man chatted away in the frankest manner, but not a
word did he let drop as to his worldly circumstances. He appeared to
enjoy his dinner, and showed himself entirely at his ease.
"I'm glad to see you so well fixed, Albert," he said. "You've got a fine
home."
"It will do very well," returned the squire, modestly.
"I suppose he never was in such a good house before," thought Mrs.
Marlowe.
"By the way, just before I fell in with you here," went on Jacob, "I ran
across Mary's boy."
"Herbert Barton?" suggested the squire, with a slight frown.
"Yes; he said that was his name."
"They live in the village," said his nephew, shortly.
"They're poor, ain't they?"
"Yes; Barton was not a forehanded man. He didn't know how to accumulate
money."
"I suppose he left very little to his widow."
"Very little. However, I have given the boy a place in my factory, and I
believe his mother earns a trifle by covering base-balls. They don't
want for anything--that is, anything in reason.
"Bert Barton seems a likely boy."
"Oh, he's as good as the average of boys in his position."
"I suppose he and Percy are quite intimate, being cousins."
"Indeed we are not!" returned Percy, tossing his head. "His position is
very different from mine."
Uncle Jacob surveyed Percy in innocent wonder.
"Still, he's kin to you," he observed.
"That doesn't always count," said Percy. "He has his friends, and I have
mine. I don't believe in mixing classes."
"I expect things _have_ changed since I was a boy," said Uncle Jacob,
mildly. "Then, all the boys were friendly and sociable, no matter
whether they were rich or poor."
"I agree with Percy," broke in Mrs. Marlowe, stiffly. "His position in
life will be very different from that of the boy you refer to. Any early
intimacy, even if we encouraged it, could not well be kept up in
after-life."
"Perhaps you are right," said the old man. "I've been away so long at
the mines that I haven't kept up with the age or the fashions."
Percy smiled, as his glance rested on his uncle's creased suit, and he
felt quite ready to agree with what he said.
"I was thinkin' how pleasant it would be if you would invite Mary and
her boy to tea--we are all related, you know. We could talk over old
times and scenes, and have a real social time."
Mrs. Marlowe seemed horror-struck at the suggestion.
"I don't think it would be convenient," she said, coldly.
"It would be better for you to see Mrs. Barton at her own house," put in
the squire, hastily.
"Well, perhaps it would."
"By the way, Uncle Jacob, I hope your experiences of California are
pleasant," insinuated Squire Marlowe.
"They're mixed, Albert. I've had my ups and downs."
"I have heard of large fortunes being made there," pursued the squire.
"I suppose there's some truth in what we hear?"
"To be sure! Why, ten years from the time I went to the mines I had a
hundred thousand dollars deposited to my credit in a Sacramento bank."
Squire Marlowe's eyes sparkled with pleasure. It was just what he had
been hoping to find out. So Uncle Jacob was rich, after all! The
squire's manner became even more gracious, and he pressed upon his
relative another plate of ice cream.
"No, thank you, Albert," said the old man. "I'm used to plain livin'. It
isn't often I sit down to a meal like this. Do you know, there's
nothing suits me better than a dinner of corned beef and cabbage."
"How vulgar the old man is!" thought Mrs. Marlowe. "He may have money,
but his tastes are _very_ common."
"We never have corned beef and cabbage here," she said, with a slight
shudder.
"Very likely Bert Barton's mother has it very often," suggested Percy.
"My dear," said the squire, urbanely, "if Uncle Jacob really enjoys
those dishes so much, you might provide them for his special use."
"I will think of it," replied Mrs. Marlowe, shortly.
Now that Uncle Jacob had hinted at the possession of wealth, Squire
Marlowe beheld him as one transfigured. He was no longer a common,
shabby old man, but a worthy old gentleman of eccentric ideas in the
matter of wardrobe and manners.
"I wonder if Uncle Jacob wouldn't advance me twenty-five thousand
dollars," was the thought that was passing through his mind as he gazed
genially at his countrified guest. "It would help me amazingly in my
business, and enable me to do double as much. I will mention it to him
in good time."
"I've a great mind to come upon the old man for a handsome birthday
present," thought Percy. "Fifty dollars wouldn't be much for him to
give. I shan't get more than a fiver from the governor."
"Uncle Jacob," said the squire, as they rose from the table, "suppose
you walk over to the factory with me; I should like you to see it."
"Nothing would please me better," said Jacob Marlowe, briskly.
"Will you come along, Percy?" asked his father.
"No, papa," answered Percy, with a grimace. "You know I don't like the
smell of leather."
"_I_ ought not to dislike it," said the squire, with a smile, "for it
gives me a very handsome income."
"Oh, it's different with you," returned Percy. "Just give me the profits
of the factory and I'll go there every day."
"He's a sharp one!" said the squire, with a smile.
"I am afraid he is too sharp to suit me," thought Uncle Jacob. "It seems
to me the boy's mind runs upon money, and his own interests."
The shoe factory was a large building of two stories, and within it was
a hive of industry.
As the squire led the way he explained the various workings to the old
man, who was really curious and interested. It was on a larger scale
than was common at the time he left for California, and the use of
machinery had to a greater extent supplemented and superseded the work
of the hands.
Finally they came to a room where several boys were pegging shoes, for
this work was still done in the old-fashioned way. Uncle Jacob's eyes
lighted up when in one of them he recognized Bert Barton.
He hurried forward, and put his hand on Bert's shoulder.
"So this is your business," he said.
"Yes," answered Bert, with a smile.
"Do you find it hard work?"
"Oh, no! That is, I am used to it. It used to tire me at first."
"Did you tell your mother I was in town?"
"Yes," answered Bert, "and she says she hopes you will call."
"To be sure I will. I may call this evening."
"He's a likely boy, Albert," said Uncle Jacob, rejoining the squire, who
stood aloof with a look of annoyance on his face.
"He works very well, I believe," was the cold reply. "Shall we move on?"
"Albert doesn't seem to feel much interest in his poor relations,"
thought Uncle Jacob. "Well, it's human nature, I suppose."
"You seem to be doing a large business, Albert," he said aloud.
"Yes; but with a little more capital I could very much increase it,"
rejoined the squire. "With twenty-five thousand dollars now, I would
enlarge the factory to double its present size, and do twice the
business I am now doing."
"I am afraid you want to get rich too fast, Albert."
"It would gratify my spirit of enterprise, Uncle Jacob. I feel that I
have the ability to make a big business success."
"Very likely, Albert. I've seen enough to convince me of that."
"He'll lend me the money if I work things right," Squire Marlowe said to
himself. "He'll be like wax in my hands."