For three years Hal had been trying to decide what should be his
business in life; and now at the age of fifteen, and in his last school
year, he was as far as ever from any fixed plan. A profession, he
argued, required too much study; a trade meant ten hours a day of hard
labor; he was too old for an office-boy; and he had no capital to put
into business. Well, if he could only even find out now for what he was
fitted, it would save time in the end.
"How do people ever sit still and think!" he exclaimed aloud. "I'll go
over and consult Ned."
Ned was two years his senior. He had started in life with the idea of
being a doctor, and had kept to it. Consequently he had little sympathy
with Hal's vagaries, and often chided him for his lack of definite
purpose. But as Hal's well-known war-whoop sounded under the window, he
came out on his steps.
"What's up?" he asked. "You look as black as a thunder cloud."
"Father says I've got to make up my mind what to do, and that if I don't
he'll do it for me," answered Hal laconically, "and that might not suit,
you know."
"I told you it would come to that if you did not look sharp," answered
Ned. "Take my advice now. A boy like you better begin with a trade and
work up to be boss mechanic; then when you are rich, buy a library and
turn scholar. There's a swell carpenter's school just started down at
the Institute, box and tools included in the tuition, so you'll have
some property at the end of the term, if you haven't ideas."
"I had thought of being a physicist, or chemist," replied Hal; "but
carpentering is really more in my line; might try it at least. Suppose I
talk it over at home."
"You better," said Ned, "than keep me out here bareheaded; good-by!"
"Much obliged and good-by," called out Hal, as he turned homewards.
It did not take long to obtain his parents' consent, as they hoped they
saw in this definite wish an earnest of practical ability which would
help them and him to decide the question of what he had better do. He
had owned one or two carpenter's chests and had broken several tools, so
that he knew something about their use which would count in the
beginning.
Hal's pride suffered, however, when at the Institute he had to learn how
to strike square blows, and to practise the wrist, elbow and shoulder
movement, in striking with light tools. Then, too, he had to submit to
be taught how to drive nails just so many inches apart, exactly as if he
had never hammered before. He was as indignant, also, at being told to
neither split nor cut towards himself, as if he had never hurt his
jacket.
At last he was permitted to begin to make a picture frame. Its four
sides had to be glued and dovetailed together, and the fitting required
careful measurements. As Hal was too anxious to go ahead to attend to
details, it is not surprising that the sides would not meet. The more he
planed and chiselled, the worse it grew, till in despair he took it home
for kindling wood.
Next he started on a bevelled-edge frame, and still despising exact
measurements, he made the inner curve too deep, thus injuring the effect
of his design.
Weary of mathematical carpentering, he turned to the ordinary, rough
work of making a miniature house frame. His previous mistakes had helped
him so much that here he soon went ahead of the other boys; but when he
reached the staircase he began to fail. The steps were not alike in
depth, nor were they placed at the right angles; he used up four blocks
of wood, succeeding on the fifth, though the stairs were still rather
steep.
His frame completed, he discovered that his acquaintances at the
Institute had advanced to the turning-lathe. Too vexed and proud to go
on and take up what they were leaving, he went into the moulding room.
All went well at first; the frame was evenly placed, put together and
inserted in the sand-box; but when he came back two days later and
lifted the upper half, the sand all fell out and spoilt his mould; for
he had paid very little attention to getting it into the completely
proper condition for receiving an impression.
This final failure at the Institute convinced him that nature had not
fitted him for a carpenter, which knowledge he bore calmly; for, as he
said, it was a saving of time to find out what he could _not_ be. In his
need, he turned again to Ned, whom he had ignored during this two months
at the Institute. Ned looked as if he had expected him, but could only
learn that "carpentering had gone up," and that Hal would now like to
try his first idea and enter the chemical business, provided that Ned
would become a partner and put in some stock.
Ned demurred at first, but finally concluded it might be helping
himself, as a doctor, especially as the stock he had on hand and the use
of his laundry, could be considered an offset for Hal's capital.
"My laundry would do just as well," said Hal; "you ought to put in
money."
"Oh, you had better take my laundry," replied Ned. "My mother does not
object to smells, for she thinks chemistry is going to revolutionize
perfumery. I've got some scales and a spirit-lamp, and we can get
bottles and tumblers enough."
"Yes, but you know we must have a round-bottomed receiver, a measuring
glass, crucibles, retorts and test-tubes."
"As you seem to know all about it," replied Ned carelessly, "you buy
them and come here to-morrow." Hal assented and they separated to meet
the next afternoon, when they began with a manual of chemistry as their
guide. They first distilled water; and then they analyzed it by boiling
it.
But all this was too safe, they wished to venture upon something
dangerous; so they put three drops of nitric acid on a copper cent and
wrote out the result thus:
(1). 1 copper cent.
3 drops Nitric acid.
Result: A greenish liquid--nitrate of copper.
This formula was so pleasing that they continued to note down their work
somewhat as follows:
(2). 1 Shell.
6 drops nitric acid.
Result: Shell dissolved.
(3). Solution muriate of lime.
" Carbonate of potassium.
Result: Solid.
From these simple but important discoveries they proceeded to move
difficult analyses and syntheses. They made ammonia water; they combined
weights; they experimented in acids, bases and salts; they produced
explosions; they almost set the house on fire with their experiments in
hydrogen; they tested iodine and chlorine.
The greatest hindrance to their advancement was the amount of care
required. They had burnt holes in their clothes; the laundry had became
an inconvenient refuge for the cats and dogs of the house; the younger
children could no longer play there, but broken glass should injure
them; and the maids dreaded entering a place where unlooked-for events
were always happening.
A crisis was at last developed by the gift of a friend who sent them
some lumps of "Sulphuret Potass" which the boys heated, when a strange
and still stranger odor arose. Absorbed in their experiments, they heard
neither approaching footsteps nor voices; the door was even opened, but
quickly shut. At last Ned's mother courageously rushed up to them
holding her handkerchief tight over her face, and insisted with
unmistakable gestures upon their leaving the laundry. The odor had
penetrated every nook and corner of the house, a committee meeting had
vanished, and windows were all thrown open.
"This is an end to your chemistry," she declared in injured tones; "you
have discovered nothing except how to make yourselves sick, have injured
your coats and trousers, and I won't have any more of it, do you
understand?"
"Yes," said both boys meekly. Perhaps they were rather glad than
otherwise of any expression of authority which could plausibly end what
they were secretly longing to give up. As partners they had been
faithful to each other's interests; but did it pay to give up
base-ball, week after week, just to carry out an idea! Hal's money was
gone, and both boys had done a large amount of "trading" of books and
curiosities for some other boys' half-used chemical stock. Ned was sure
he knew enough to aid him in his profession; and Hal valued failure as
an exponent in indicating, negatively, his future career.
"Glad of it;" Ned ventured to assert at last when the family had
dispersed and windows were closed. "We must clean up, and we might as
well sell out the whole concern, take account of stock, and divide the
profits."
"Don't flatter yourself," replied Hal, "that there'll be much profit. If
there is I ought to have two thirds of it as I put in the most capital."
"Yes, as far as cash goes, but brains count too, and I think you will
admit that the ideas have been furnished by me chiefly; besides my
trousers were burned more than yours. But I don't care--divide things as
you like. I am agreed."