Quads, leads, capitals, spelling all right. Pete felt as if he had done
it himself.
"Now you try," said Clarence; and success again came in a dozen cards.
Then his name became an old story.
"I'll go and ask the cook," declared Pete, "if she don't want her name
printed," and off he ran.
"Certainly" was her obliging answer; she added slowly, "Only I haven't a
name good enough to print; you call me 'Hannah!' but if you put that on
a card it looks common; and if you say 'Ora,' no one will know it is me;
and if you only put my last name, they'll think the whole family has
called. You better take the nurse's name, 'Mehitable Jones,' you can't
get round that."
Hardly waiting till she had finished, Pete went to Mehitable, who kindly
consented to believe that she needed a dozen cards, and to write down
her name that it might be printed correctly. This looked like business.
The cards were quickly printed, and delivered, and the package was
marked on the wrapper "C. O. D."
"That is not my name," exclaimed Mehitable.
"Of course, that isn't your name," explained the boys; "cards are
inside. That means you must pay us right off, just what you please; we
didn't say anything about it first, because we trusted you--but we can't
afford to work for nothing."
"Well," said Mehitable, "here is five cents."
Pete's first money earned by honest hard labor; two and a half cents
apiece. "That's an unfortunate price for us," said Clarence, "though it
be convenient for the buyer. Let's keep all uneven sums as capital
towards other type, and all even sums we'll divide."
This was rather a shock at first to Pete; but with a partner who was
such a superior business man he would not dispute.
"The first great trouble," stated Clarence, "is to get orders; the
second, to execute them. You be the travelling agent and I'll be the
office man."
"Now," said Pete, "I won't. I want to print as well as you. I'll be
travelling agent in your family, and you in mine, and then we'll get
more out of each."
"That's an idea," replied Clarence; and the partnership, which to judge
by the angry looks of the past second seemed on the point of
dissolution, still remained unbroken.
That afternoon's success was marked, and afterwards when business called
Clarence away (for if the truth must be told), he was partner in two
other firms on strict terms of secrecy, Pete did not prosper. It was
always too much or too little ink; quads were not even and a sufficient
number of leads were seldom inserted. He often set the type the wrong
way so that it printed backwards, and worse than all he did not know how
to spell; and as he before had had occasion to accuse his mother of
moral reasons for her gifts, he now declared that she had only given him
the press, to teach him how to spell. One day she particularly
distressed both his memory and conscience by wishing him to print for
the nursery the motto, "Fidelity is a virtue;" and it came out,
"FIDDILITY IS A VIRTU."
Notwithstanding this, the firm had made one dollar; and in the course of
the next two months Pete had acquired enough skill to feel himself an
expert.
A change had also come over Clarence; his spirit was too aspiring to be
bound by rules of constant neatness, and he grew jealous of Pete's
increasing ability. So he proposed a partnership on new terms; namely,
that the cash on hand should be devoted to the purchase of some new
fonts, and that afterwards the earnings should be divided; but that as
he would always ink the tablet, and as the workshop of the firm had been
transferred to his shed, he should have two thirds of the profits. Pete
objected, and insisted that until the business was on a better
foundation, all the profits should be turned in for the improvement of
their stock in trade.
"No," said Clarence, "I can't print all day and every day and not feel
any cents in my pocket. I want peanuts and candy and I want to give the
boys a treat, too, now and then. That's what I am going to print for,
after we have got these new fonts."
"Well, you can do as you please, I sha'n't try such things. I shall keep
my money for type and cards. We needn't quarrel yet till we have more
money."
Clarence did not feel easy. Pete had shown more energy, patience and
neatness than he thought was right under the circumstances, though what
the circumstances were, he confessed to himself he did not know; and he
summed up the whole offence, when he was speaking of the affairs of the
concern to other boys, by saying, "O, Pete's getting too proud."
After the new type was bought, the following order was received for
twenty-five postal card notices: