AN OFFER OF HELP
On the day before they reached Vicksburg, the planter whose family had
been rescued was able to have a long conversation with Phil. His first
disposition had been to recognize Irv as the master spirit of the crew,
because of his controlling activity in the matter of restoring the
starved party to life and health, but he was quickly instructed
otherwise by Irving himself.
He explained to Phil just who and what he was.
“I have lost a great deal, of course, by this overflow, but fortunately
the bulk of my cotton crop was already shipped before the flood came, so
that that is safe. Moreover, I am not altogether dependent upon my
planting operations. In short,--you will understand that I say this by
way of explanation and not otherwise,--I am a fairly well-to-do man,--I
may even say a very well-to-do man,--independently of my planting
operations.”
“I am glad to hear that,” said Phil, “because it has troubled me a good
deal, especially as I have looked at Baby and the other children. I have
wondered what was to become of them, and in what way we boys might best
help you and them over the bridge.”
“I am glad you said that,” the planter responded. “That gives me the
opportunity I am seeking. In the same spirit in which you have been
thinking of helping me, I want you to let me help you and your comrades.
I don’t know anything of the circumstances of the young men who
compose this crew, yourself or the others; but I assume that if your
circumstances were particularly comfortable, you would hardly be engaged
in the not very profitable business of running a flatboat. At your ages,
you would more probably be in school.”
“So we are,” said Phil; “we are none of us particularly well-to-do, but
we are able to stay at home and go to school. This trip is a kind of a
lark--or partly that and partly a thing done to restore my brother’s
health; but we are obliged to make it pay its own way, anyhow, because
we could not afford the trip otherwise. Of course, we are out of school
for the time being, that is to say, for a few months, but we all expect
to make that up. As to college, I don’t know. Probably not many of us
will ever be able to afford that.”
“That, then, is exactly what I want to come to,” said the gentleman.
“You are obviously boys of good parentage. I cannot offer to pay you for
the great service you have done to me and mine--no, no; don’t interrupt
me now; let me say this out. I should not think of insulting you in any
such way as that; but why should you not let me contribute out of the
abundance that I still possess to the expense of a college course for
all five of you very bright young fellows? Believe me, nothing in the
world could give me a greater gratification than to do this. You have
rescued me and mine from a fate so terrible that I shudder to think of
it even now. Let me in my turn help a little to advance your interests
in life.”
Phil thought for a considerable time before he replied. Not that he had
any notion of accepting the offer thus made, but that he did not want,
in rejecting it, to hurt the feelings of a man so generous, and one who
had made the offer with so much delicacy. At last the boy said:--
“Believe me, sir, I appreciate, and all my comrades will when I tell
them of it, the good feeling and the generosity that have dictated your
offer, but we could not on any account accept it. I am sure that in this
I speak for all. I believe that any boy in this country who really wants
an education can get it, if he chooses to work hard enough and live
plainly enough. My brother has not been able to go to school much at any
time in his life, because of his ill-health, and yet he is much the best
educated one among us, and if he lives, he will be reckoned a
well-educated man, even among men who are college graduates. As for the
rest of us, we can get a college education, as I said, if we choose to
work hard enough and live hard enough. If we don’t choose to do that,
why, we must go without. But we thank you all the same, and I want you
to know that we recognize the generosity of your offer, though we cannot
accept it. Now, please don’t let’s talk of that any more, because it
isn’t pleasant to refuse a request such as yours; for I take it from
your manner and tone that you mean it as a request rather than as an
offer of aid.”
With that, Phil walked away, and there was naturally no more to be said.
But an hour later the gentleman, who was still feeble from his late
exposure and suffering, asked Phil again to sit down by him. Then he
said:--
“I am not going to reopen the question that we discussed a while ago,
because I understand and honor your decision with regard to it. But
there is another little service that I am in position to render you, and
that I might render to anybody with whom I came into pleasant contact.
My name counts for a good deal with my commission merchant in New
Orleans; for how much it counts, it would not be quite modest for me to
say; but, at any rate, I want to give you a letter to him, if you will
allow me. When you get there, you will wish to sell your cargo, and of
course you will be surrounded by buyers, but most of them will be
disposed to take advantage of your youth and of your inexperience in the
market. I cannot imagine how, in their hands, you can escape the loss
of a considerable part of the value of what you have to sell. Now the
commission merchant to whom I wish to give you a letter is a man of the
very highest integrity, besides being my personal friend and my agent in
business. I suggest that you place the whole matter of the sale of your
boat and cargo in his hands, and I am confident that the difference in
the results will be many hundreds of dollars in your favor. This is, as
I said, a service that I might render even to a casual acquaintance.
Surely, you will not deny me the privilege of rendering it to a group of
young men who have done for me what you boys have.”
Phil rose and stood before him embarrassed.
“I suppose,” he said, “I ought to consult my comrades before accepting
even this favor at your hands, but I shan’t do anything of the kind. I
understand what you feel and what you mean, and if you won’t ask
anything of your commission merchant except that he shall sell us out on
his usual terms, I shall frankly be very much obliged to you for the
letter you offer; for it has really been a source of a good deal of
anxiety to me, this thing of how to sell out when we get there.”
It was so arranged; and as the gentleman and his family were to quit the
boat at Vicksburg, the letter was written that day.
At Vicksburg the boys offered the hospitality of their boat to their
guests until such time as proper clothing could be provided for them,
their condition of destitution being one in which it was impossible for
them to think of going ashore. This offer was frankly accepted, and as
the boys were themselves in sad need of supplies, the delay of two or
three days was not only of no consequence to them, but it introduced a
new element of life on board _The Last of the Flatboats_. The lady sent
into the town for dressmakers and seamstresses in such numbers as might
enable her quickly to equip herself and the children for a reappearance
among civilized human beings. The cabin became a workroom, and two
sewing-machines were installed even upon the deck. It looked a little
odd, but, as Irv Strong put it, “it’s only another incident in a voyage
that began with Jim Hughes and promises to end we do not know with what.
Anyhow, we’ve had good luck on the whole, and if we don’t come out
ahead now, it’ll probably be our own fault.”
This was the feeling of all the boys. They had the open Mississippi
before them for the brief remainder of their journey. The river was
still enormously full, of course, but it was falling now, and below
Vicksburg it had been kept well within the levees, so that there was no
further probability of any cross-country excursions on the part of _The
Last of the Flatboats_. They had nothing to do, apparently, but to cast
the boat loose and let her float the rest of the way upon placid waters.
But this again is getting ahead of my story. The boat is still tied to
the bank at Vicksburg. Let us return to her.