PREPARING TO START.
Two days later the blinds of the little cottage were closed, and crape
hung in solemn black upon the front door. The neighbors, and indeed
the whole population of the village, came and went continually--some
few with genuine grief and sympathy, and the many others to satisfy
a morbid curiosity regarding the man whose life had so suddenly ended.
It was a dismal enough time for the inmates. Richard did all a brave
boy can do to comfort his mother and sisters, but he himself needed
consolation fully as much as any of them. He had thought much of his
father, and the cold form lying in the draped coffin in the parlor
sent a chill through his heart that would have an effect in all after
life.
At last the funeral was over, and the last of the neighbors had gone
away. It was nearly sunset, and the entire family had gathered in the
little kitchen to partake of a cup of tea, and to talk over the
situation. Mrs. Dare sat in a rocking-chair beside the table, her face
plainly showing her intense grief, and near her, on a low stool, sat
Richard.
"Well, mother, I suppose I will have to do something very soon now,"
began the boy. "It won't do for me to remain idle when there is no
money coming in."
Mrs. Dare sighed.
"I can't think of money matters yet, Richard," she replied, shaking
her head sadly. "It is all so sudden, so unexpected, I cannot realize
our terrible loss."
"There isn't a chance for any one in Mossvale," put in Nancy. She
herself had been secretly wondering what they were going to do for
support.
"So I told mother some time ago," responded Richard. "The few places
here are all filled."
"Thought you were going to try New York?" said Grace, who was serving
the tea.
"So I was. But--" The boy did not finish, but glanced over to where
his mother sat.
"I could hardly bear to have you go away," said Mrs. Dare. "It would
be so lonely--your father and you both out of the house. I would rather
have you home, even if we had a good deal less to live upon."
"To-morrow I will go out and see what Mossvale has to offer," returned
Richard. "In our circumstances it would not be right for me to waste
any time."
"Do as you think best," was Mrs. Dare's reply. "You are old enough to
think and act for yourself."
But Richard did not wait for the next day before he began his hunt.
That evening he called upon Dr. Melvin to obtain some medicine for his
mother, and after this portion of his errand was over he broached the
subject of securing a position.
"You will find it a hard matter," said the doctor kindly, "unless you
wish to go on one of the farms. But they are poor pay, even if you can
stand the labor, which I doubt."
"I would not go on a farm unless I could find nothing else," replied
the boy. "Could _you_ give me a place?" he asked.
Dr. Melvin nodded his head reflectively.
"I might take you in as an office assistant," he replied. "It would
be a good chance to learn medicine. But there would not be much to do,
and the pay would be necessarily small."
"Then I couldn't afford to accept it," was Richard's prompt reply. "It
is kind in you to make the offer, but I have got to earn enough to
support the family."
"I suppose so. Well, I wish you success. I have known you for a number
of years, and if you need a recommendation I will give it to you
gladly."
"Thank you, doctor. I'll remember that," replied the boy, and after
a few more words of conversation he left.
On the following morning he called upon Mr. Barrows, the master painter
for whom his father had worked. He found the old workman busy in his
shed, mixing up colors for his journeymen to use.
"I suppose you've come down for the money due your father," remarked
Mr. Barrows after he had expressed numerous regrets over the sad
accident. "Well, here it is, the week in full, and I'm mighty sorry
he isn't here to receive it himself, and many another besides," and
he held out the amount.
"No, I didn't come for this exactly," replied the boy. "Besides there
is too much here," he added, as he counted the bills. "Father did not
finish out the week."
"Never mind, you take it anyhow," returned Mr. Barrows briefly. "What
was it you wanted?"
"Work. I want to earn something to support my mother and sisters on.
We can't live on nothing, and what we have saved up won't last long."
"It's hard luck, Dick, so it is!" exclaimed the old painter. "Tell you
what I'll do, though. I'll teach you the trade--teach you it just as
good as your father knew it, and pay you a little in the bargain."
"How much I don't care about the money for myself, but--"
"Yes, I understand," broke in Mr. Barrows. "Well, I'll tell you. I'll
take you to learn the trade for three years, and start you at two
dollars a week. I wouldn't give any other boy half of that, but I know
you're smart, and I feel it my duty to help you along."
Richard bit his lip in disappointment. He knew that what Mr. Barrows
said about the amount was true, but still he needed more, and for that
reason, he had, somehow, expected a larger sum to be offered.
"I'm much obliged, but I'll have to think it over before I decide,"
he said. "Three years is a long time to bind one's self."
"Oh, they'll slip by before you know it. Besides, I'll raise your wages
just as soon as you are worth it," said Mr. Barrows.
"I'll see about it," was all the boy could answer.
"Two dollars a week would not go far towards supporting a family of
five," sighed Richard, as he walked away. "And then to be a house
painter all one's life! I must strike something else."
But "striking something else" was no easy matter, as the boy soon
learned. A visit to the two stores, the blacksmith shop and to several
people whom he thought might give him employment, brought forth no
results of value. Either they had nothing for him to do, or else the
pay offered was altogether too small.
Richard returned home late in the afternoon. Grace met him at the end
of the lane.
"Any luck, Dick?" she asked eagerly.
"No," he replied, and related his experience.
"Never mind," returned his sister. "Maybe it isn't so bad after all.
The minister is here."
"Mr. Cook?"
"Yes, he's in the parlor talking to mamma, and I heard them mention
your name, and say something about New York."
Richard's heart gave a bound. He knew that Mr. Cook, who was their old
family pastor, had great influence with his mother, and that she would
probably go to him for advice.
"Guess I'll go in and hear what he has to say," said Richard, and a
moment later he knocked on the parlor door and entered.
Mr. Cook shook him cordially by the hand.
"We have just been speaking about you," he said. "How have you fared
in your search for employment?"
The boy told him.
"Mossvale is so small, there is hardly any chance," he added.
"Your mother tells me that you have an idea you could do better in New
York," went on the minister. "It is a big place, and nearly every one
is almost too busy to notice a new-comer."
"I know that. But I should watch my chances."
"And there are many temptations there that never arise in such a place
as this," continued Mr. Cook earnestly; "and it very often takes all
the will power a person possesses to keep in the straight and narrow
path."
"I wouldn't do what wasn't right!" burst out Richard. "I'd starve
first!"
Mr. Cook looked down into the clear, outspoken face before him.
"I believe it," he declared. "You have had a good training, thanks to
your mother and father. Well, I have advised her to let you try your
luck in the great metropolis."
"Oh, Mr. Cook!"
"Yes. Now don't get excited. She has thought it over, and agrees to
let you go for two weeks, at least. The fare is only four dollars and
a half, and board for that length of time will not be much. Of course
you can't put up at an expensive hotel."
"I won't put up anywhere until I find a job," declared Richard. "I
only want my railroad ticket, and a dollar or two extra."
"Indeed not!" put in Mrs. Dare. "I would not have you stay out doors
all night, like a tramp. There are plenty of cheap lodging-houses."
"And when can I go?" asked Richard eagerly.
His mother gave a sad little smile.
"Do you want to leave your mother so very soon?" she asked.
"Oh, no, only I want to be doing something--helping you and the rest,"
he replied quickly.
"Then you shall go bright and early next Monday morning," returned
Mrs. Dare, and she turned away to hide the tears that sprang up at the
thought of her only boy leaving the shelter of the quiet country home,
to mingle with strangers in the great city more than a hundred miles
away.
As for Richard he was delighted with the prospects. At last the dream
of many months was to be realized. He was to go to New York, to tread
the streets of the great metropolis, to find a place for himself, and
make a fortune!
Little did he know or care for the many trials and disappointments in
store for him. He was striking out for himself, and intended to do his
level best.
Would he succeed or fail?
We shall see.