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POOR AND PROUD
OR
THE FORTUNES OF KATY REDBURN
A STORY FOR YOUNG FOLKS
BY
OLIVER OPTIC
TO
ALICE MARIE ADAMS,
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
BY HER FATHER.
Poor and Proud.
PREFACE.
Bobby Bright and Harry West, whose histories were contained in the last
two volumes of the "Library for Young Folks," were both smart boys. The
author, very grateful for the genial welcome extended to these young
gentlemen, begs leave to introduce to his juvenile friends a smart
girl,--Miss Katy Redburn,--whose fortunes, he hopes, will prove
sufficiently interesting to secure their attention.
If any of my adult readers are disposed to accuse me of being a little
extravagant, I fear I shall have to let the case go by default; but I
shall plead, in extenuation, that I have tried to be reasonable, even
where a few grains of the romantic element were introduced; for Baron
Munchausen and Sindbad the Sailor were standard works on my shelf in
boyhood, and I may possibly have imbibed some of their peculiar spirit.
But I feel a lively satisfaction in the reflection that, whatever
exaggerations the critic may decide I have perpetrated in this volume,
I have made the success of Katy Redburn depend upon her good
principles, her politeness, her determined perseverance, and her
overcoming that foolish pride which is a snare to the feet. In these
respects she is a worthy exemplar for the young.
Pride and poverty do not seem to agree with each other; but there is a
pride which is not irreconcilable with the humblest station. This pride
of character finds an illustration in the life of my heroine.
Thanking my young friends again for the pleasant reception given to my
former books I submit this volume in the hope that Katy Redburn will
prove to be a worthy and agreeable companion for their leisure hours.
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
DORCHESTER, Sept. 29, 1858.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER.
I. Katy Redburn and Others Are Introduced
II. The History of the Silver Watch
III. Katy and Master Simon Sneed Visit the Pawnbroker's Shop
IV. Katy Matures a Magnificent Scheme
V. Katy Visits Mrs. Gordon, and Gets Rid of Dr. Flynch
VI. Katy Prepares a Stock of Merchandise
VII. Katy Makes a Large Sale
VIII. Katy Sells Out, and Visits the Mayor
IX. Katy talks with the Mayor, and Recovers the Watch
X. Katy, in Distress, finds a Champion
XI. Katy Meets with Extraordinary Success
XII. Katy Pays Her Debts, and Tommy Goes to Sea
XIII. Katy Employs an Assistant
XIV. Master Simon Sneed Makes a Mistake
XV. Katy Gets a Letter from Liverpool
XVI. Ann Grippen Plays Tricks upon Travelers
XVII. The Sun Sets, and the Night Comes On
XVIII. Katy Struggles Bravely through a Series of Trials
XIX. Katy Resorts to a Loan
XX. Mrs. Gordon Feels Faint, and Katy Enters a New Sphere
XXI. Katy Goes to Church, and Has a Birthday Party
POOR AND PROUD; OR, THE FORTUNES OF KATY REDBURN.
CHAPTER I.
KATY REDBURN AND OTHERS ARE INTRODUCED.
"Give me a flounder, Johnny?" said a little girl of eleven, dressed in
coarse and ragged garments, as she stooped down and looked into the
basket of the dirty young fisherman, who sat with his legs hanging over
the edge of the pier.
"I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out
of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round here tryin' to
hook my fish."
"You hooked 'em," said another juvenile angler who sat on the capsill
of the pier by Johnny's side.
"Who says I hooked 'em?" blustered Johnny, whose little dirty paws
involuntarily assumed the form of a pair of fists, scientifically
disposed and ready to be the instruments of the owner's vengeance upon
the traducer of his character.
"I say so," added Tommy Howard, who did not seem to be at all alarmed
at the warlike attitude of his fellow-angler.
"Say it again, and I'll smash your head," continued Johnny, jumping up
from his seat.
"Didn't you hear me? Once is enough."
Tommy coolly hauled up a large flounder at that moment, and threw the
fish into his basket. It was rather refreshing to see how regardless he
was of that pair of menacing fists.
"Jest you say that once more, and see what I'll do," persisted Johnny.
"I won't do it."
"You dasn't say it again."
"Perhaps I dasn't; at any rate, I shan't."
"Do you mean to say I hooked them fish?" exclaimed Johnny, desperately,
for it seemed as though he must do something to vindicate his injured
honor.
"That's just what I did say."
But Tommy was so confoundedly cool that his fellow-angler had some
doubts about the expediency of "pitching into him." Probably a vision
of defeat flashed through his excited brain and discretion seemed the
better part of valor. Yet he was not disposed to abandon his position,
and advanced a pace or two toward his provoking companion; a movement
which, to an unpracticed eye, would indicate a purpose to do something.
"Don't fight, Tommy," said the little ragged girl.
"I don't mean to fight, Katy,"--Johnny, at these words, assumed an
artistic attitude, ready to strike the first blow,--"only if Johnny
hits me, I shall knock him into the middle of next week."
Johnny did not strike. He was a prudent young man.
"Don't fight, Johnny," repeated the girl, turning to the excited
aspirant for the honors of the ring.
"Do you suppose I'll let him tell me I hooked them fish?" blustered
Johnny.
"He didn't mean anything."
"Yes, I did," interposed Tommy. "He caught 'em on a hook; so of course
he hooked em. I hooked mine too."
"Is that what you meant?" asked Johnny, a broad grin overspreading his
dirty face, and his fists suddenly expanding into dirty paws again.
"That's just what I meant; and your skull is as thick as a two-inch
plank, or you would have seen what I meant."
"I see now."
Johnny was not disposed to resent this last insinuation about the
solidity of his cranium. He was evidently too glad to get out of the
scrape without a broken head or a bloody nose. Johnny was a bully, and
he had a bully's reputation to maintain; but he never fought when the
odds were against him; and he had a congressman's skill in backing out
before the water got too hot. On the whole, he rather enjoyed the pun;
and he had the condescension to laugh heartily, though somewhat
unnaturally, at the jest.
"Will you give me a flounder, Tommy?" said the little ragged girl, as
she glanced into his well-filled basket.
"What do you want of him, Katy?" asked Tommy turning round and gazing
up into her sad, pale face.
Katy hesitated; her bosom heaved, and her lips compressed, as though
she feared to answer the question.
"To eat," she replied, at last, in a husky tone.
"What's the matter, Katy?"
The face of the child seemed to wear a load of care and anxiety, and as
the young fisherman gazed a tear started from her eye, and slid down
her cheek. Tommy's heart melted as he saw this exhibition of sorrow. He
wondered what could ail her.
"My mother is sick," replied Katy, dashing away the tell-tale tear.
"I know that; but what do you want of flounders?"
"We have nothing to eat now," said Katy, bursting into tears. "Mother
has not been able to do any work for more than three months: and we
haven't got any money now. It's all gone. I haven't had any breakfast
to-day."
"Take 'em all, Katy!" exclaimed Tommy, jumping up from his seat on the
capsill of the pier. "How will you carry them? Here, I will string 'em
for you."
Tommy was all energy now, and thrust his hands down into the depths of
his pockets in search of a piece of twine. Those repositories of small
stores did not contain a string, however; but mixed up with a piece of
cord, a slate pencil, an iron hinge, two marbles, a brass ring, and six
inches of stovepipe chain, were two cents, which the owner thereof
carefully picked out of the heap of miscellaneous articles and thrust
them into the hand of Katy.
"Here, take them; and as you go by the grocery at the corner of the
court, buy a two-cent roll," whispered he. "Got a bit o' string,
Johnny?" he added aloud, as Katy began to protest against taking the
money.
"Hain't got none; but I'll give you a piece of my fish line, if you
want," replied the bully, who was now unusually obliging.
"There's a piece of spunyarn, that's just the thing I want;" and Tommy
ran half way up the pier to the bridge, picked up the line, and
commenced stringing the flounders on it.
"I don't want them all, Tommy; only give me two or three. I never shall
forget you, Tommy," said Katy, her eyes suffused with tears of
gratitude.
"I'm sorry things go so bad with you, Katy, and I wish I could do
something more for you."
"I don't want anything more. Don't put any more on the string. There's
six. We can't eat any more."
"Well, then, I'll bring you some more to-morrow," replied Tommy, as he
handed her the string of fish. "Stop a minute; here's a first-rate
tom-cod; let me put him on;" and he took the string and added the fish
to his gift.
"I never shall forget you, Tommy; I shall only borrow the two cents; I
will pay you again some time," said she, in a low tone, so that Johnny
could not hear her.
"Never mind 'em, Katy. Don't go hungry again for a minute. Come to me,
and I'll help you to something or other."
"Thank you, Tommy;" and with a lighter heart than she had brought with
her, she hastened up the pier, no doubt anticipating a rich feast from
the string of fish.
The pier of the new South Boston bridge was then, as now, a favorite
resort for juvenile fishermen. Flounders, tom-cod, and eels, to say
nothing of an occasional sculpin, which boys still persist in calling
"crahpies," or "crahooners," used to furnish abundant sport to a motley
group of youngsters wherein the sons of merchants mingled
democratically with the dirty, ragged children of the "Ten-footers" in
the vicinity. The pier was neutral ground, and Frederic Augustus made a
friend of Michael or Dennis, and probably neither was much damaged by
this free companionship; for Michael or Dennis often proves to be more
of a gentleman in his rags and dirty face than Frederic Augustus in his
broadcloth and white linen.
Katy walked as fast as her little feet would carry her, till she came
to a court leading out of Essex Street. The bells were ringing for one
o'clock as she entered the grocery at the corner and purchased the
two-cent roll which Tommy Howard's bounty enabled her to add to her
feast. Elated with the success of her mission, she quickened her pace
up the court to a run, rushed into the house and up-stairs to her
mother's room with as much enthusiasm as though she had found a bag of
gold, instead of having obtained a very simple dinner.
"O, mother, I've got a lot of flounders and some bread for you!"
exclaimed she, as she bolted into the room.
"Then you have money," said a cold voice in the chamber; and Katy
perceived, standing near the bed on which her mother lay, a man who was
no stranger to her.
It was Dr. Flynch; but let not my young reader make a mistake. He was
no good Samaritan, who had come to pour oil and wine into the wounds of
the poor sick woman; not even a physician, who had come to give
medicine for a fee, to restore her to health and strength. It is true
he was called a doctor, and he had been a doctor, but he did not
practice the healing art now. If he had failed to make a physician, it
was not because his heart was so tender that he could not bear to look
upon pain and suffering. He was the agent of Mrs. Gordon, a widow lady,
who owned the house in which Katy's mother lived. He collected her
rents, and transacted all her business; and as far as dollars and cents
were concerned, he had certainly been a faithful servant. Dr. Flynch
was a prudent and discreet man, and did not hurt the feelings of the
good lady who employed him by telling her about the difficulties he
encountered in the discharge of his duty, or by describing the harsh
and even cruel means to which he was sometimes obliged to resort, in
order to obtain the rent of poor tenants.
"Mrs. Redburn," said Dr. Flynch, when he had heard the exclamation of
Katy, "you have told me a falsehood. You said you had no money, not a
cent. Where did you get that roll, child?"
"At the store at the corner of the court," replied Katy, abashed by the
cold dignity of the agent.
"Precisely so, Mrs. Redburn; but you do not buy bread without money.
You have attempted to deceive me. I have pitied you up to the present
time, and indulged you in the non-payment of your rent for over a week
I can do so no longer, for you have told me a falsehood."
"No, sir, I have not," pleaded the sick woman.
"Your child buys bread."
"I did not give her the money."
"Where did you get the money to buy that roll with?" demanded Dr.
Flynch, turning sharply to Katy.
"Tommy Howard gave it to me."
"Who is Tommy Howard?"
"He lives on the other side of the court."
"Very probable that a dirty, ragged boy gave her the money! This is
another false-hood, Mrs. Redburn. I lament that a person in your
situation should have no higher views of Christian morality than to lie
yourself, and teach your child to lie, which is much worse."
The poor woman burst into tears, and protested that she had told the
truth, and nothing but the truth; declaring that Katy was a good girl,
that she had eaten nothing that day, and would not tell a lie. Dr.
Flynch was a man of method, and when a tenant did not pay the rent, it
was his purpose to get rid of that tenant in the quietest way possible.
In the present case there was a difficulty, and public opinion would
not justify him in turning a sick woman out of the house; but if she
lied, had money concealed, and would not pay her rent, it would alter
the matter. As he wished to believe this was the case, he had no
difficulty in convincing himself, and thus quieting his poor apology
for a conscience.
Besides being a man of method, Dr. Flynch was a man of upright walk and
conversation; at least, he passed for such with those who did not know
anything about him. If Mrs. Gordon should happen to hear that he had
turned out the sick woman, he could then inform her how feelingly he
had pointed out to her the wickedness of her conduct, which he thought
would sound exceedingly well.
"Mrs. Redburn," he continued, "I will give you till this time to-morrow
to get out of the house; if you are not gone then, I shall be under the
painful necessity of removing your goods into the street. Good
morning;" and Dr. Flynch turned upon his heel, and walked out of the
room.
"My poor child! what will become of us?" sobbed the sick woman, as she
grasped Katy's hand, and pressed it to her bosom with convulsive energy.
"Don't cry, mother; something can be done. I will go and see Mrs.
Gordon, and beg her to let you stay here."
"You must not do that; Dr. Flynch told me, if I troubled her about the
house, I should not stay in it another minute, even if I paid the rent."
"He is a bad man, mother; and I don't believe Mrs. Gordon knows what he
does here."
"There is one thing more we can do, Katy," continued Mrs. Redburn,
wiping away her tears, and taking from under her pillow a heavy silver
watch. "This was your father's; but we must sell it now. It is all we
have left."
"I should hate to have that sold, mother."
"We must sell it, or pawn it."
"We will pawn it then."
"How shall we do it? I have not strength to rise, and they will cheat
you if you offer it."
"I will tell you what I can do, mother; I will get Simon Sneed to go
with me to the pawnbroker's shop. He is very kind to me, and I know he
will. He comes home to dinner at two o-clock."
This plan was agreed to, and Katy then went to work to clean and cook
the flounders.