IN WHICH BOBBY SETS OUT ON HIS TRAVELS
Squire Lee, though only a plain farmer, was the richest man in
Riverdale. He had taken a great fancy to Bobby, and often employed him
to do errands, ride the horse to plough in the cornfields, and such
chores about the place as a boy could do. He liked to talk with Bobby
because there was a great deal of good sense in him, for one with a
small head.
If there was any one thing upon which the squire particularly prided
himself, it was his knowledge of human nature. He declared that he
only wanted to look a man in the face to know what he was; and as for
Bobby Bright, he had summered him and wintered him, and he was
satisfied that he would make something in good time.
He was not much astonished when Bobby opened his ambitious scheme of
going into business for himself. But he had full faith in his ability
to work out a useful and profitable, if not a brilliant, life. He
often said that Bobby was worth his weight in gold, and that he would
trust him with anything he had. Perhaps he did not suspect that the
time was at hand when he would be called upon to verify his words
practically; for it was only that morning, when one of the neighbors
told him about Bobby's stopping the horse, that he had repeated the
expression for the twentieth time.
It was not an idle remark. Sixty dollars was hardly worth mentioning
with a man of his wealth and liberal views, though so careful a man as
he was would not have been likely to throw away that amount. But as a
matter of investment,--Bobby had made the note read "with
interest,"--he would as readily have let him have it, as the next
richest man in the place, so much confidence had he in our hero's
integrity, and so sure was he that he would soon have the means of
paying him.
Bobby was overjoyed at the fortunate issue of his mission, and he
walked into the room where his mother was closing shoes, with a
dignity worthy a banker or a great merchant. Mrs. Bright was very
sad. Perhaps she felt a little grieved that her son, whom she loved so
much, had so thoughtlessly plunged her into a new difficulty.
"Come, cheer up, mother; it is all right," said Bobby, in his usual
elastic and gay tones; and at the same time he took the sixty dollars
from his pocket and handed it to her. "There is the money, and you
will be forever quit of Mr. Hardhand to-morrow."
"What, Bobby! Why, where did you get all this money?" asked
Mrs. Bright, utterly astonished.
In a few words the ambitious boy told his story, and then informed his
mother that he was going to Boston the next Monday morning, to
commence business for himself.
"Why, what can you do, Bobby?"
"Do? I can do a great many things;" and he unfolded his scheme of
becoming a little book merchant.
"You are a courageous fellow! Who would have thought of such a thing?"
"I should, and did."
"But you are not old enough."
"O, yes, I am."
"You had better wait a while."
"Now or never, mother! You see I have given my note, and my paper will
be dishonored, if I am not up and doing."
"Your paper!" said Mrs. Bright, with a smile.
"That is what Mr. Wing, the boot manufacturer, calls it."
"You needn't go away to earn this money; I can pay it myself."
"This note is my affair, and I mean to pay it myself with my own
earnings. No objections, mother."
Like a sensible woman as she was, she did not make any objections. She
was conscious of Bobby's talents; she knew that he had a strong mind
of his own, and could take care of himself. It is true, she feared the
influence of the great world, and especially of the great city, upon
the tender mind of her son; but if he was never tempted, he would
never be a conqueror over the foes that beset him.
She determined to do her whole duty towards him; and she carefully
pointed out to him the sins and the moral danger to which he would be
exposed, and warned him always to resist temptation. She counselled
him to think of her when he felt like going astray.
Bobby declared that he would try to be a good boy. He did not speak
contemptuously of the anticipated perils, as many boys would have
done, because he knew that his mother would not make bug-bears out of
things which she knew had no real existence.
The next day, Mr. Hardhand came; and my young readers can judge how
astonished and chagrined he was, when the widow Bright offered him the
sixty dollars. The Lord was with the widow and the fatherless, and the
wretch was cheated out of his revenge. The note was given up, and the
mortgage cancelled.
Mr. Hardhand insisted that she should pay the interest on the sixty
dollars for one day, as it was then the second day of July; but when
Bobby reckoned it up, and found it was less than one cent, even the
wretched miser seemed ashamed of himself, and changed the subject of
conversation.
He did not dare to say anything saucy to the widow this time. He had
lost his power over her, and there stood Bobby, who had come to look
just like a young lion to him, coward and knave as he was.
The business was all settled now, and Bobby spent the rest of the week
in getting ready for his great enterprise. He visited all his friends,
and went each day to talk with Squire Lee and Annie. The little maiden
promised to buy a great many books of him, if he would bring his stock
to Riverdale, for she was quite as much interested in him as her
father was.
Monday morning came, and Bobby was out of bed with the first streak of
dawn. The excitement of the great event which was about to happen had
not permitted him to sleep for the two hours preceding; yet when he
got up, he could not help feeling sad. He was going to leave the
little black house, going to leave his mother, going to leave the
children, to depart for the great city.
His mother was up before him. She was even more sad than he was, for
she could see plainer than he the perils that environed him, and her
maternal heart, in spite of the reasonable confidence she had in his
integrity and good principles, trembled for his safety.
As he ate his breakfast, his mother repeated the warnings and the good
lessons she had before imparted. She particularly cautioned him to
keep out of bad company. If he found that his companions would lie and
swear, he might depend upon it they would steal, and he had better
forsake them at once. This was excellent advice, and Bobby had
occasion at a later period to call it to his sorrowing heart.
"Here is three dollars, Bobby; it is all the money I have. Your fare
to Boston will be one dollar, and you will have two left to pay the
expenses of your first trip. It is all I have now," said Mrs. Bright.
"I will not take the whole of it. You will want it yourself. One
dollar is enough. When I find Mr. Bayard, I shall do very well."
"Yes, Bobby, take the whole of it."
"I will take just one dollar, and no more," replied Bobby, resolutely,
as he handed her the other two dollars.
"Do take it, Bobby."
"No, mother; it will only make me lazy and indifferent."
Taking a clean shirt, a pair of socks, and a handkerchief in his
bundle, he was ready for a start.
"Good by, mother," said he, kissing her and taking her hand. "I shall
try and come home on Saturday, so as to be with you on Sunday."
Then kissing the children, who had not yet got up, and to whom he had
bidden adieu the night before, he left the house. He had seen the
flood of tears that filled his mother's eyes, as he crossed the
threshold; and he could not help crying a little himself. It is a sad
thing to leave one's home, one's mother, especially, to go out into
the great world; and we need not wonder that Bobby, who had hardly
been out of Riverdale before, should weep. But he soon restrained the
flowing tears.
"Now or never!" said he, and he put his best foot forward.
It was an epoch in his history, and though he was too young to realize
the importance of the event, he seemed to feel that what he did now
was to give character to his whole future life.
It was a bright and beautiful morning--somehow it is always a bright
and beautiful morning when boys leave their homes to commence the
journey of life; it is typical of the season of youth and hope, and it
is meet that the sky should be clear, and the sun shine brightly, when
the little pilgrim sets out upon his tour. He will see clouds and
storms before he has gone far--let him have a fair start.
He had to walk five miles to the nearest railroad station. His road
lay by the house of his friend, Squire Lee; and as he was approaching
it, he met Annie. She said she had come out to take her morning walk;
but Bobby knew very well that she did not usually walk till an hour
later; which, with the fact that she had asked him particularly, the
day before, what time he was going, made Bobby believe that she had
come out to say good by, and bid him God speed on his journey. At any
rate, he was very glad to see her. He said a great many pretty things
to her, and talked so big about what he was going to do, that the
little maiden could hardly help laughing in his face.
Then at the house he shook hands with the squire and shook hands again
with Annie, and resumed his journey. His heart felt lighter for having
met them, or at least for having met one of them, if not both; for
Annie's eyes were so full of sunshine that they seemed to gladden his
heart, and make him feel truer and stronger.
After a pleasant walk, for he scarcely heeded the distance, so full
was he of his big thoughts, he reached the railroad station. The cars
had not yet arrived, and would not for half an hour.
"Why should I give them a dollar for carrying me to Boston, when I can
just as well walk? If I get tired, I can sit down and rest me. If I
save the dollar, I shall have to earn only fifty-nine more to pay my
note. So here goes;" and he started down the track.