Produced by Lynn Ratcliffe with thanks to Gail McGrew for
the loan of the book
WAIT AND HOPE
or A Plucky Boy's Luck
by Horatio Alger, JR.
New York Book Company
Copyright 1909
Table of Contents
I - Ben and His Aunt
II - Three Situations
III - At Lovell's Grounds
IV - The Boys' Race
V - Ben Wins Again
VI - Mr. Dobson's Visit
VII - Ben Gets Employment
VIII - Deacon Sawyer's Liberality
IX - Mr. Manning's Proposal
X - Ben's Journey
XI - In New York
XII - An Adventure
XIII - A Curious Old Lady
XIV - Prof. Crane, The Phrenologist
XV - An Old Convert to Phrenology
XVI - Ben's Loss
XVII - The Strange Captor
XVIII - The Envelope
XIX - The Prize for Scholarship
XX - Before the Battle
XXI - Ben Wins at School
XXII - Sam's Revenge
XXIII - The Decoy Letter
XXIV - Ben Arrives in Boston
XXV - Sam Gives Himself Away
XXVI - Ben Finds a Boarding-Place
XXVII - Sam Attempts Strategy
XXVIII - Sam Praises Ben
XXIX - The Cunard Steamer
XXX - Sam Is Improved By Adversity
XXXI - Clouds in the Sky
XXXII - The Blow Falls
XXXIII - Ben Receives a Commission
XXXIV - Solomon Brief
XXXV - John Tremlett
XXXVI - A Surprising Discovery
XXXVII - The Dead Alive
XXXVIII - Conclusion
Chapter I
Ben and His Aunt
Five o'clock sounded from the church clock, and straightway the
streets of Milltown were filled with men, women, and children
issuing from the great brick factories huddled together at one
end of the town. Among these, two boys waked in company, James
Watson and Ben Bradford. They were very nearly of an age, James
having just passed his fifteenth birthday, and Ben having nearly
attained it.
Both boys looked sober. Why, will appear from their
conversation.
"It's rather hard to get out of a job just now," said James.
"Why couldn't the superintendent discharge somebody else?"
"I suppose it's all right," said Ben. "We were taken on last, and
we haven't as much claim to remain as those that have been in
the mill longer."
"I don't believe there was any need of discharging anybody,"
complained James.
"You know business is very dull," said Ben, who was more
considerate, "and I hear they have been losing money."
"Oh, well, they can stand it," said James.
"So can you," said Ben. "Your father is pretty well off, and
you won't suffer."
"Oh, I shall have enough to eat, and so on; but I shan't have
any spending money, and I can't get a new suit, as I expected to
this fall."
"I wish that was all I had to fear," said Ben; "but you know how
it is with me. I don't see how Aunt Jane is going to get along
without my earnings."
"Oh, you'll get along somehow," said James carelessly, for he
did not care enough about other people's prospects to discuss
them.
"Yes, I guess so," said Ben, more cheerfully. "There's no use
in worrying. Wait and Hope--that's my motto."
"You have to wait a thundering long time sometimes," said James.
"Well, good night. Come round and see me to-morrow. You'll
have plenty of time."
"I don't know about that. I must look up something to do."
"I shan't. I am going to wait till the superintendent takes me
on again. There's one comfort. I can lie abed as long as I want
to. I won't be tied to the factory bell."
The house which James entered was a good-sized two-story house,
with an ample yard, and a garden behind it. His father kept a
dry-goods store in Milltown, and was generally considered
well-to-do. James entered the mill, not because he was obliged
to, but because he wanted to have a supply of money in his
pocket. His father allowed him to retain all of his wages,
requiring him only to purchase his own clothes. As he was paid
five dollars a week, James was able to clothe himself with half
his income, and reserve the rest for spending-money. He was very
fond of amusements, and there was no circus, concert, or other
entertainment in Milltown which he did not patronize.
Ben kept on his way, till he reached the small house where his
aunt lived, and which had been his own home ever since his
parents died, when he was but five years of age. Two years
before, Mr. Reuben Bradford, his uncle, died, and since then
the family had been supported chiefly by Ben's wages in the mill.
His aunt got some sewing to do, but her earnings were comparatively small.
There was one thing Ben dreaded, and that was, to tell his aunt
about his loss of employment. He knew how she would take it.
She was apt to be despondent, and this news would undoubtedly
depress her. As for Ben, he was of a sanguine, cheerful
temperament, and always ready to look at the bright side, if there
was any bright side at all.
His little cousin Tony, seven years old, ran out to meet him.
"What makes you late, Ben?" he asked.
"I am not so very late, Tony," answered Ben, taking the little
fellow's hand.
"Yes you are; it's half-past five o'clock, and supper's been
ready quarter of an hour."
"I see how it is, Tony. You are hungry, and that has made you
tired of waiting."
"No, I am not, but I wanted you to come home. It's always
pleasanter when you are at home."
"I am glad you like my company. Good evening, Aunt Jane."
"Good evening, Ben. Sit right down at the table."
"Wait till I've washed my hands, aunt. I came home by Mr.
Watson's, and that made me a little longer. Have you heard
any news?"
Ben asked this, thinking it possible that his aunt had already
heard of the discharge of some of the factory hands; but her
answer satisfied him that she had not.
"Butter's a cent higher a pound," said Mrs. Bradford. "I declare,
things seem to be going up all the time. Thirsty-five cents a
pound! It really seems sinful to ask such a price."
"I wish that wasn't the worst of it," thought Ben.
"I'm afraid even at twenty-five cents it will be hard for us to
pay for butter, if I don't get something to do soon."
"I guess I won't tell Aunt Jane till after supper," Ben decided.
"After a good cup of tea, perhaps it won't make her feel so
low-spirited."
So he ate his supper, chatting merrily with his little cousin all
the time, just as if he had nothing on his mind. Even his aunt
smiled from time to time at his nonsense, catching the contagion
of his cheerfulness.
"I wish you'd split a little wood for me, Ben," said Mrs. Bradford,
as our hero rose from the supper table. "I've had some ironing to
do this afternoon, and that always takes off the fuel faster."
"All right, Aunt Jane," said Ben.
"I guess I'll wait till I've finished the wood before telling her,"
thought Ben. "It won't be any worse than now."
Tony went into the woodshed, to keep him company, and his aunt
prepared to clear away the supper dishes.
She had scarcely commenced upon this when a knock was heard at
the door. The visitor proved to be old Mrs. Perkins, a great-aunt
of James Watson, who was an inveterate gossip. Her great delight
was to carry news from one house to another.
"How do you do, Mrs. Bradford?" she began. "I was just passin' by,
and thought I'd come in a minute."
"I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Perkins. Won't you have a cup of
tea?"
"No thank you. The fact is, I've just took tea at my nephew
Watson's. There I heard the news, and I couldn't help comin' right
round and sympathizin' with you."
"Sympathizing with me! What for?" asked Mrs. Bradford, amazed.
On general principles, she felt that she stood in need of sympathy,
but her visitor's tone seemed to hint at something in particular.
"It ain't possible you haven't heard the news?" ejaculated Mrs.
Perkins, feeling that she was indeed in luck, to have it in her
power to communicate such important intelligence to one who had
not heard of it.
"I hope it isn't anything about Ben," said Mrs. Bradford alarmed.
"Yes, I may say it is something about Benjamin," answered Mrs.
Perkins, nodding in a tantalizing manner.
"He hasn't got into any scrape, has he? He hasn't done anything
wrong, has he?" asked Aunt Jane startled.
"No, poor child!" sighed the old lady. "That's the wust on't. It
ain't what he has done; it's because he won't have anything to do."
"For mercy's sakes, tell me what you mean, Mrs. Perkins."
"Hasn't Benjamin told you that he's lost his place at the factory?"
"Is this true, Mrs. Perkins?" asked Mrs. Bradford, turning pale.
"Yes, business is dull and fifty men and boys have been turned off.
James Watson and your Benjamin are among them."
"Ben never told me anything about it," faltered Mrs. Bradford.
"Heaven only knows what we shall do."
"Oh, I guess you'll get along someway," said Mrs. Perkins,
complacently. She was not herself affected, having sufficient
property to live upon. "Well, I must be going," said the old lady,
anxious to reach the next neighbor, and report how poor Mrs.
Bradford took it. "Don't you be too much worried. The Lord
will provide."
"I am afraid we shall all starve," thought Mrs. Bradford mournfully.
She opened the shed door, and said: "Ben, is it true that you've
lost your place at the mill?"
"Yes, aunt," answered Ben. "Who told you?"
"Old Mrs. Perkins. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"There's no hurry about bad news, aunt."
"I am afraid we'll all have to go to the poorhouse," said Aunt Jane,
sighing.
"Perhaps we may, but we'll see what else we can do first. Wait and
Hope, aunt--that's my motto."
Mrs. Bradford shook her heard mournfully.
"I don't mind it so much for myself," she said; "but I can't help
thinking of you and Tony."
"Tony and I are coming out all right. There's lots of ways of making
money, aunt. Just do as I do--'Wait and Hope.'"