"I can't learn," pleaded the boy, "try as I may, I'm not cut out for a
mechanic. If I could work like you it would be a pleasure to me to keep
at it. I'm out of all heart with my work."
The father evidently felt for the boy as he spoke in a more kindly tone:
"You are not lazy; the things that you can do, you do well. Now you
painted around that hull quicker than any man at work on the boat. Be a
little more patient, take more pains and you'll make a good workman. I
will pay you wages, try to make something useful out of yourself. You'll
never amount to a hill of beans if you follow up your show notions,"
pleaded the father.
"Pap, I'm satisfied with what you give, it ain't that. I don't like the
work. Of course, I painted the hull of the boat quickly but that's all I
can do and Captain Abrams says there's nothing in puttying up nail holes
and painting hulls; anybody can learn that in six months."
The father became cross again, and, in a threatening tone, said: "I am
your father and it is my duty to do my best for you; I firmly believe I
am fulfilling my duty as a parent in ordering you to give up all other
notions as to the future and get down to business and learn this trade.
Now make up your mind; go at your work with the feeling that you are
determined to succeed. If you go at your work in a half-hearted way you
are certain to fail."
"Well, that's the way I feel about this work; I can't learn it, I don't
want to. There's a dozen other things I'd rather do and I can make more
money out of them."
This stubborn talk exasperated the father, and pointing his finger at
the boy to emphasize his words, he said: "First, it was circus, then it
was minstrels. You tried the newspaper business, you were not
satisfied."
"Why, you made me quit newspaper work," interrupted Alfred.
"Don't interrupt me again," cautioned the father, "then it was that
infernal panorama. That panorama was the worst of all, it gave you the
habit of roving; you've never been satisfied a day since you went off
with that panorama."
"But father, you and all your family were willing I should go. You
wanted me to go; I didn't want to go, I only wanted to get back the
money Palmer cheated you out of."
The father thundered: "Don't you try to saddle your roving onto me.
You're not satisfied in any place and never will be. Don't you ever tell
me to my face again that I even hinted that you go with the panorama and
I don't want you to ever mention that anybody cheated me. I'd like to
see the man who can cheat me. Now you go to your work, you're not your
own man yet. I am going to send you to the Merrittstown Academy this
winter and I want you to settle down. You've had it too easy. When I was
a boy I had to get up at 4 o'clock in the morning, make all the fires,
milk four cows and feed a pen full of hogs and I had to be done by
daylight. You've had it too easy, your mother is the one that's spoiled
you. From this day on it's hands off with her; I'll be your boss. Now,
don't let me hear more of this roving talk."
"Why, Pap, I haven't said one word about roving. Can't I do other work
right here at home if I quit this, I don't have to rove, do I?"
"No, but that's the upshot of all this talk," persisted the father. "Now
get down to your work; learn it."
"I can't," doggedly answered the boy. "Didn't you tell me yesterday my
fingers were all thumbs? Didn't you tell me in front of all the hands
that you were ashamed of me and that you didn't think it possible that a
child of yours could be so ignorant and awkward."
The father stammered and colored. He was a most affectionate parent, he
was truly sorry that he had humbled the pride of the boy. "Why, my son,
the men all know I was only teasing you; they all know you are most
intelligent. You can learn anything you set your hand to. Why, when you
went to Dr. Playford to learn to be a doctor he informed me as did Bob,
that they never knew anyone to learn Latin as quickly as you. You could
tell us all the names for medicines. Why, Uncle Jake, Steve Gadd and Joe
Gibbons told me the time they took you to Washington County to the
turkey shoot, that they'd all been down sick if it hadn't been for you.
They say it rained a cold rain and you all got wet. Uncle Jake is
subject to the quinsy and he was on the verge of it. They tried the drug
store and everywhere and they couldn't get nothing. Steve said you went
to the drug store and got all they wanted, only you didn't ask for
whiskey; you called it fermenting spirits. Steve said the druggist told
him confidentially you ought to be a druggist, you told him things he
didn't know before. Now, go at your work as you did at doctoring and
you'll learn. It has been the regret of your mother's life that you did
not learn to be a doctor. I've sometimes thought old Hare just pretended
your medicine made him sick to get out of paying the bill. I don't think
Dr. Playford cared one thing about it so far as you was concerned but
the other doctors talked so about it he just had to let you go. I've
always felt sorry about it because, if any of our family is taken down
with a fever, Playford is the only fever doctor in town."
Arguments of this character occurred almost daily. Alfred grew more and
more dissatisfied, the father more insistent. Alfred kept up his
minstrel work, appearing ever and anon in amateur exhibitions. Folks
kept pouring it into his ears: "Well, if I had your talent this town
wouldn't hold me fifteen minutes; I'd take the boat for Pittsburg
tonight. What does your father mean by holding you down in this way?
Does your mother favor it? Why, your folks are standing in their own
light. If I had a boy like you I'd hire him out and travel with him,"
was Shuban Lee's comment.
All this was not calculated to cool the ardor of an ambitious amateur.
Alfred read the _New York Clipper_ weekly. He wrote many letters to many
minstrel managers to which he did not receive replies.
Charles Duprez, of Duprez and Benedict, answered one of Alfred's letters
thusly: