[Illustration: ON THE MISSOURI STEAMER. Page 11.]
ONWARD
AND
UPWARD
SERIES
PLANE AND PLANK
FIELD & FOREST-PLANE & PLANK-DESK & DEBIT
CRINGLE & CROSS-TREE-BIVOUAC & BATTLE-SEA & SHORE
Illustrated
LEE & SHEPARD
BOSTON
_THE UPWARD AND ONWARD SERIES._
PLANE AND PLANK;
OR,
THE MISHAPS OF A MECHANIC.
BY
OLIVER OPTIC,
AUTHOR OF "YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD," "THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES,"
"THE WOODVILLE STORIES," "THE BOAT-CLUB STORIES," "THE STARRY
FLAG STORIES," "THE LAKE-SHORE
SERIES," ETC.
WITH FOURTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS.
BOSTON:
LEE AND SHEPARD.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871,
BY WILLIAM T. ADAMS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
ELECTROTYPED AT THE
BOSTON STEREOTYPE FOUNDRY,
19 Spring Lane.
TO
MY YOUNG FRIEND
_GEORGE W. HILLS_
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
PREFACE.
"PLANE AND PLANK" is the second of THE UPWARD AND ONWARD SERIES, in
which the hero, Phil Farringford, appears as a mechanic. The events
of the story are located on the Missouri River and in the city of St.
Louis. Phil learns the trade of a carpenter, and the contrast between a
young mechanic of an inquiring mind, earnestly laboring to master his
business, and one who feels above his calling, and overvalues his own
skill, is presented to the young reader, with the hope that he will
accept the lesson.
Incidentally, in the person and history of Phil's father the terrible
evils of intemperance are depicted, and the value of Christian love
and earnest prayer in the reformation of the unfortunate inebriate is
exhibited.
Though the incidents of the hero's career are quite stirring, and
some of the situations rather surprising, yet Phil is always true to
himself; and those who find themselves in sympathy with him cannot
possibly be led astray, while they respect his Christian principles,
reverence the Bible, and strive with him to do their whole duty to God
and man.
HARRISON SQUARE, BOSTON,
_June 7, 1870._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
Page
IN WHICH PHIL MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF MR. LEONIDAS
LYNCHPINNE. 11
CHAPTER II.
IN WHICH PHIL MEETS WITH HIS FIRST MISHAP. 22
CHAPTER III.
IN WHICH PHIL SLIPS OFF HIS COAT, AND RETREATS IN
GOOD ORDER. 33
CHAPTER IV.
IN WHICH PHIL ENDEAVORS TO REMEDY HIS FIRST MISHAP. 44
CHAPTER V.
IN WHICH PHIL VAINLY SEARCHES FOR THE GRACEWOODS. 55
CHAPTER VI.
IN WHICH PHIL WANDERS ABOUT ST. LOUIS AND HAS A
GLEAM OF HOPE. 66
CHAPTER VII.
IN WHICH PHIL HEARS FROM HIS FRIENDS AND VISITS MR.
CLINCH. 77
CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH PHIL GOES TO WORK, AND MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 88
CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH PHIL MEETS A SEEDY GENTLEMAN BY THE NAME
OF FARRINGFORD. 100
CHAPTER X.
IN WHICH PHIL LISTENS TO A VERY IMPRESSIVE TEMPERANCE
LECTURE. 112
CHAPTER XI.
IN WHICH PHIL TAKES HIS FATHER TO HIS NEW HOME. 123
CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH PHIL LISTENS TO A DISCUSSION, AND TAKES
PART IN A STRUGGLE. 135
CHAPTER XIII.
IN WHICH PHIL HAS ANOTHER MISHAP, AND IS TAKEN TO A
POLICE STATION. 147
CHAPTER XIV.
IN WHICH PHIL RECOVERS HIS MONEY. 160
CHAPTER XV.
IN WHICH PHIL PRODUCES THE RELICS OF HIS CHILDHOOD. 172
CHAPTER XVI.
IN WHICH PHIL STRUGGLES EARNESTLY TO REFORM HIS
FATHER. 183
CHAPTER XVII.
IN WHICH PHIL MEETS THE LAST OF THE ROCKWOODS. 195
CHAPTER XVIII.
IN WHICH PHIL CALLS UPON MR. LAMAR, AND DOES NOT
FIND HIM. 207
CHAPTER XIX.
IN WHICH PHIL FINDS HIMSELF A PRISONER IN THE GAMBLERS'
ROOM. 219
CHAPTER XX.
IN WHICH PHIL IS STARTLED BY THE SIGHT OF A FAMILIAR
FACE. 231
CHAPTER XXI.
IN WHICH PHIL FINDS HIMSELF SIXTY-FIVE DOLLARS OUT. 243
CHAPTER XXII.
IN WHICH PHIL RETURNS TO THE DEN OF THE ENEMY. 256
CHAPTER XXIII.
IN WHICH PHIL'S MEETS A PALE GENTLEMAN WITH ONE
ARM IN A SLING. 268
CHAPTER XXIV.
IN WHICH PHIL MEETS AN OLD FRIEND, AND MR. LEONIDAS
LYNCHPINNE COMES TO GRIEF. 280
CHAPTER XXV.
IN WHICH PHIL FINDS THE PROSPECT GROWING BRIGHTER. 292
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN WHICH PHIL LISTENS TO THE CONFESSION OF HIS PERSECUTOR,
AND ENDS PLANE AND PLANK. 304
PLANE AND PLANK;
OR,
THE MISHAPS OF A MECHANIC.
CHAPTER I.
IN WHICH PHIL MAKES THE ACQUAINTANCE OF MR. LEONIDAS LYNCHPINNE.
"What do you think you shall do for a living, Phil Farringford, when
you arrive at St. Louis?" asked Mr. Gracewood, as we sat on the
hurricane deck of a Missouri River steamer.
"I don't care much what I do, if I can only get into some mechanical
business," I replied. "I want to learn a trade. I don't think I'm very
vain when I say that I have about half learned one now."
"Perhaps you have half learned several," added my excellent friend,
with a smile. "I have no doubt you will make a good mechanic, for you
are handy in the use of tools; and you have been thrown so much upon
your own resources that you are full of expedients."
"I am always delighted when I have a difficult job to do. Nothing
pleases me so much as to study up the means of overcoming an obstacle,"
I added.
"The first qualification for any pursuit is to have a taste for it. You
will make a good mechanic."
"I am only afraid that after I have learned a trade, I shall not care
to work at it."
"That won't do," protested Mr. Gracewood. "You mustn't keep jumping
from one thing to another. Frequent change is the enemy of progress.
You must not be fickle."
"But, after I have learned my trade, or rather finished learning it,
there will be no more difficulties to overcome."
"Yes, there will. What trade do you mean to learn?"
"The carpenter's, I think."
"There may be an infinite variety in the trade."
"I know there may be, but there is not. One house must be very much
like every other one, I don't think I could be contented to keep doing
the same thing over and over again."
"If you wish to succeed, you must stick to your trade, Phil
Farringford."
"Should I stick to it if I can do better at something else?"
"You must, at least, be very sure that you can do better at something
else."
"Of course I shall; but, if I learn my trade, I shall always have it to
fall back upon."
"That is very true; but I wish to impress it upon your mind that
fickleness of purpose is fatal to any real success in morals, in
science, and in business."
Our conversation was interrupted by the stopping of the steamer at a
wood-yard; for I never lost an opportunity, on those occasions, to take
a walk on shore. I was nervously anxious to see everything there was to
be seen. All was new and strange; and every day, as the settlements on
the banks of the great river increased in number and extent, afforded
me a new sensation. As I had been brought up far away from the haunts
of civilization, even a house was a curiosity to me; and I gazed with
astonishment at the busy scenes which were presented to me in some of
the larger towns. At St. Joseph we had taken on board quite a number of
passengers, and the scene in the cabin had become much livelier than
before.
The addition was not wholly an improvement, for among the new arrivals
were not a few gamblers. From this time the tables were occupied by
these blacklegs, and such of the passengers as they could induce to
join them in the hazardous sport, from early in the morning until
late at night. The parties thus engaged were surrounded by a crowd
of curious observers, watching the turnings of the game, and perhaps
calculating their own chances if they engaged in the wretched business.
I had looked on myself with interest, and when I saw a man put five
dollars into his pocket on the turn of a card, I thought it was an easy
way to make money; but then I had an opportunity to see that it was
just as easy a way to lose it.
Mr. Gracewood had called me away from my position near the table, after
the gamblers had commenced their operations, and cautioned me never
to play for money at any game. He explained to me the nature of the
business, and assured me that the gamblers who had come on board at
St. Joseph were of the vilest class of men. After his lecture I was
not tempted to try my hand with the party at the table. The talk about
making and losing money at games of chance introduced the subject of
my own finances. I had paid my passage to St. Louis, and had besides
nearly one hundred dollars in gold in a shot-bag in my pocket.
While we were talking, I took out the bag, and counted the pieces, as I
had done several times on the passage, to assure myself that my funds
were all right. My excellent friend told me I must learn prudence, and
that I ought not to exhibit my money, especially while we had so many
suspicious characters on board. I was alarmed, and looked around to
discover who had observed me. One of the passengers, who had come on
board at "St. Joe," was promenading the deck, and I had noticed that
he passed quite near me several times. He was a young man flashily
dressed, but he did not look like a bad man. I put my shot-bag into my
pocket, resolved not to show it again, and we continued to discuss the
financial question till it led us to the consideration of my future
occupation.
The wood-yard where the boat stopped was in a lonely region, and it
was just sunset when she touched the shore. Its location was at the
mouth of a stream down which the wood was brought in flatboats, though
a young forest was growing in the region around the landing. As it was
too damp for his wife and daughter to walk, Mr. Gracewood would not go
on shore, and I went alone. It was a great luxury to stretch one's legs
for an hour on the hard ground after living for weeks on the steamer.
"How long before you leave?" I asked of the captain, as I went over the
plank.
"Perhaps not till morning," he replied.
"Do you stay here all night?"
"It's going to be foggy, and I don't think we can run down to
Leavenworth, which is not more than seven miles from here. We should
have to lie there till morning if we went on."
I was sorry for this, because Mrs. Gracewood had a friend in the place,
where we intended to spend the evening, and I was anxious to see the
inside of a civilized house. However, we could make the visit the next
day, for the boat was to stay several hours at the town. I went on
shore, and several of the passengers did the same.
"It's quite smoky on the river," said a young man, coming up to me as
we landed.
"Yes; the captain says he shall probably have to lie here till
morning," I replied.
"That's too bad," added my companion, the St. Joe passenger whom I had
observed on the hurricane deck when I was counting my money. "I meant
to go to a prayer-meeting in Leavenworth this evening."
"A prayer-meeting!" I repeated, my interest awakened; for I had heard
Mr. Gracewood speak of such gatherings, though I had never attended one.
"When I came up the river three days ago, they were holding them every
evening in the chapel; and I am anxious to attend."
"I should like to go very much."
"I think I shall go as it is," continued the young man, looking at his
watch.
"How can you go if the boat remains here?"
"I can walk. It is not more than three or four miles across the bend of
the river."
"I should like to go with you very much," I answered.
"I should be very glad of your company."
"If you will wait a few moments, I will speak to Mr. Gracewood."
He consented to wait, and I hastened to the saloon. When I had stated
my desire, Mr. Gracewood rather objected.
"You don't know the person with whom you are going," said he.
"I think I can take care of myself, sir. But I don't think there can be
any danger in going with a young man who is willing to walk four miles
to attend a prayer-meeting."
"Perhaps not. I should really like to go to one myself."
"I don't think there can be any danger," interposed Mrs. Gracewood. "If
we could get a vehicle here, we would all go."
"There is the captain. I will ask him if one cannot be obtained," said
Mr. Gracewood.
The captain said there was no vehicle suitable to convey a lady, but
he would send a party of three in the steamer's boat, if they would pay
the expenses of the two oarsmen in Leavenworth for the night.
"But can't you send five as well as three?" asked Mr. Gracewood, who
did not object to the expense.
"The boat is hardly large enough to carry them besides the two oarsmen.
I lost my boat going up the river, and I had to take such a one as I
could find," replied the captain.
"But I would rather walk," I added. "I will meet you in the town."
"Very well, Phil Farringford. Go to the landing when you arrive, and
wait for us."
I promised to do so, and joined the young man on the shore. We started
immediately for our destination, and passing through the grove of young
trees, we reached the open prairie, over which there was a wagon track.
"I don't happen to know your name," said my companion.
"Philip Farringford; but my friends call me Phil."
"Farringford; I know a man of that name in St. Louis," replied he. "He
used to be a large steamboat owner, but he has gone to ruin now."
"Gone to ruin?"
"Yes, drank hard, and lost all his property. He is a poor, miserable
fellow now."
"Had he a family?"
"He had a wife, but she left him years ago. She was a very pretty
woman, they say, though I never saw her."
"Did you ever hear that he and his wife were on board a steamer which
was burned on the upper Missouri?"
"Never did."
Very likely this man was the owner of the steamer after which I had
been named; but it was not probable that he was in any manner related
to me. My curiosity was satisfied, or rather my new friend could give
me no further information in regard to him.
"There was a steamer of that name burned on the Missouri about eleven
years ago," I added.
"Well, I was a boy then, and did not come to St. Louis till years
after."
"I should like to ascertain something about that boat, Mr.--You didn't
tell me your name."
"Just so; I did not. My name is--my name is Lynchpinne," he replied,
with some hesitation, so that I wondered whether he had not forgotten
his name--"Leonidas Lynchpinne."
I thought it was a queer name, but an instinct of politeness prevented
me from saying so.
"What do you wish to know in regard to that steamer, Phil?" he asked.
"Some of my relations were on board of her, and I should like to
ascertain whether they were saved or not."
"Farringford will know all about it, if you can catch him when he is
sober, which is not very often. I will help you out with it when we get
to St. Louis."
"Thank you, Mr. Lynchpinne. I shall be under very great obligations to
you if you can help me."
I thought my new friend was a very obliging young man, and I was
glad to know him, especially as he was in the habit of attending
prayer-meetings.