A LIBERAL OFFER
Then commenced a round of travel--what the professor called a
professional tour. By day they traveled in the wagon, carrying their
paraphernalia with them, stopping at the principal towns, and giving
evening entertainments. At many of these places the magician was well
known, and his tricks were not new. But he had an attraction in his
young assistant, who was regularly advertised on the posters as the
“celebrated young vocalist, whose songs are everywhere received with
admiring applause.”
Indeed it was very near the truth. Harry was really a fine singer, and
his fresh, attractive face and manly appearance won him a welcome in
all the towns on their route. Sometimes a young girl in the audience
threw him a bouquet. This made him blush and smile, and the donor felt
rewarded.
Where was it going to end? Was he to continue in the service of the
professor, and in time become himself a magician and a traveling
celebrity? Harry was not sure about it. He saw that it would pay him
better than most kinds of business, and he also discovered that
Professor Hemenway was even better off than he had represented. Yet,
he was not quite ready to select the same profession, but, being only
sixteen, felt that he could afford to remain in it a while longer.
One day the professor gave him a surprise.
“Harry,” he said, as they were jogging along a dusty road, “do you
think you would like to travel?”
“I am traveling now,” answered Harry, with a smile.
“True, but I don’t mean that. Would you like to go on a long journey?”
“I should like nothing better,” replied Harry, promptly.
“I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking about. I recently read in some
paper that a man in my line had made a trip to Australia, and reaped a
rich harvest. Everywhere he was received with enthusiasm, and made as
much money, in one month as he would do here in four. Now why
shouldn’t I go to Australia?”
Harry’s eyes sparkled.
“It would be a fine thing to do,” he said.
“Then you would be willing to accompany me?”
“I would thank you for taking me,” answered the boy.
“That is well!” said the professor, in a tone of satisfaction. “I
confess I shouldn’t like to go alone. It would be a great undertaking,
but with a companion it would seem different. But, is there anyone who
would object to your going?”
“Yes,” answered Harry, smiling, “Mr. Fox, my ‘guardeen,’ would.”
“We won’t mind Mr. Fox. Very well, then, Harry, we will consider it
settled. I shall rely on you to help me by your singing there as you
do here. As to your wages, I may be able to pay you more.”
“Never mind about that, professor. It will cost you a good deal to get
us there. I am perfectly willing to work for the same sum I do now, or
even less, on account of the extension of the trip.”
“Then you leave that matter to me. I won’t take advantage of your
confidence, but you shall prosper if I do.”
“How soon do you propose to go, professor?” asked Harry, with
interest.
“As soon as possible. I shall ascertain when the first packet leaves
Boston, and we will take passage in her.”
The professor’s decision pleased Harry. He had been a good scholar in
geography--indeed, it was his favorite study--and had, besides, read
as many books of travel as he could lay his hands on. Often he had
wondered if it ever would be his fortune to see some of the distant
countries of which he read with so much interest. Though he had
cherished vague hopes, he had never really expected it. Now, however,
the unattainable seemed within his grasp. He would not have to wait
until he was a rich man, but when still a boy he could travel to the
opposite side of the world, paying his expenses as he went along.
Two weeks passed. Each day they halted in some new place, and gave an
evening performance. This life of constant motion had, at first,
seemed strange to Harry. Now he was accustomed to it. He never felt
nervous when he appeared before an audience to sing, but looked upon
it as a matter of course.
At last they reached Boston. They were to give two entertainments at a
hall at the south end. It was the first large city in which Harry had
sung, but he received a welcome no less cordial than that which had
been accorded to him in country towns.
They were staying at a modest hotel, comfortable, but not expensive.
Harry was sitting in the reading room, when a servant brought in a
card. It bore the rather remarkable name of
“DR. MENDELSSOHN BROWN.”
“A gentleman to see you, Mr. Vane,” said the servant.
Harry rose and surveyed the stranger in some surprise. He had long
hair, of a reddish yellow, with an abundant beard of the same hue. His
suit of worn black fitted him poorly, but Dr. Brown evidently was not
a devotee of dress. No tailor could ever point to him, and say with
pride: “That man’s clothes were made at my shop.”
“Do I speak to Mr. Harry Vane, the young vocalist?” asked the
stranger, with a deferential smile.
“That’s my name,” answered our hero.
“You are alone?”
“Yes, sir,” said Harry, a little puzzled.
“It is well. I will come to business at once. You have probably heard
of me, eh?”
“Probably I have, but I do not remember names well.”
“The name of Mendelssohn Brown, is pretty well known, I flatter
myself,” said the visitor, complacently. “To be brief--I heard you
sing last evening, and was much pleased with your rendition of the
various selections.”
Harry bowed.
“I am about to form a juvenile Pinafore company, and would like to
have you take the leading part. You would make an excellent _Admiral_.
I propose to take my opera company all over the United States. I
should be willing to pay you, as the star performer, twenty-five
dollars a week.”
Harry opened his eyes in amazement.
“Do you think me capable of singing in opera?” he asked.
“Yes, after being trained by your humble servant. What do you say?”
“I thank you for your flattering offer, Dr. Brown, but I don’t feel at
liberty to leave Professor Hemenway.”
The doctor frowned.
“Let me tell you, you stand in your own light, Mr. Vane,” he said,
impatiently. “There is some difference between a common juggler, like
the Magician of Madagascar,”--the doctor laughed ironically--“and a
well-known musical director, who could make you famous. Does Hemenway
pay you as much as I offer?”
“No, sir.”
“I thought so. Then how can you hesitate?”
“We are about to make an Australian tour,” answered Harry, “and, apart
from all other considerations, I am glad to have a chance to travel.”
“Couldn’t you put it off?”
“No, sir.”
“Then,” said Dr. Brown, rather crestfallen, “I can only bid you
good-morning. I think you are making a mistake.”
“Perhaps, after I return from Australia, I might be ready to accept
your offer.”
“It will be too late,” said the doctor, gloomily.
“Twenty-five dollars a week is large pay,” thought Harry, “but I don’t
believe I should ever get it. Dr. Brown doesn’t look much like a
capitalist.”
Half an hour later Professor Hemenway entered the hotel.
“Well, my boy,” he said, “the die is cast! Next Saturday we sail from
Long Wharf, bound for Australia.”
“But professor, I have just had an offer of twenty-five dollars a week
to sing in Pinafore.”
“And have accepted!” exclaimed the magician in dismay.
“No; I respectfully declined. I would rather go with you.”
“You shan’t regret it, Harry!” said the professor, relieved. “If I am
prosperous, you shall share in my prosperity.”
“Thank you, professor; I am sure of that. What is the name of our
vessel?”
“The Nantucket. It’s a good, solid-looking craft, and I think it will
bear us in safety to our destination.”