Chapter XIX

The Prize for Scholarship

The annual examination of the grammar schools in Milltown came

about the middle of June, just before summer vacation. It the First

Ward School two prizes had been offered by the principal to the

scholars who stood highest on the rank-lists.

Speculation was rife as to the probable result; but the choice was

finally narrowed down to two boys.

One of these was Ben Bradford, now sixteen years of age. The other

was Samuel Archer, son of the superintendent of the Milton Mills.

There is an old saying, "Like father, like son." Mr. Archer was

purse-proud and consequential, and felt that he was entitled to

deference on the score of his wealth and prominence.

"Sam," said he, two days before the examination, "what are your

chances of obtaining the prize?"

"I think I ought to have it, father," answered Sam.

"That is, you think you will be entitled to it?"

"Yes sir."

"Then you will get it, as a matter of course."

"I don't know that."

"Don't you think the prize will be adjudged fairly?"

"The principal thinks a great deal of Ben Bradford."

"Is he your chief competitor?"

"He is the only boy I am afraid of."

"Who is he?"

"He is a poor boy--used to work in the mills."

"He is the nephew of the Widow Bradford?"

"Yes; he lives in a small house about the size of a bandbox. I expect

they are as poor as poverty. Ben wears coarse clothes. I don't

believe he has a new suit a year."

"And you have too many. I believe your bill for clothes exceeds

mine."

"Oh, father, you want your son to dress well. People know you are

a rich man and they expect it."

"Humph! it may be carried too far," said Mr. Archer, who had just

paid a large tailor's bill for Sam.

"And you say the principal favors him?"

"Yes, everybody can see it."

"It is rather strange he should favor a penniless boy," said Mr.

Archer, himself a worshiper of wealth. "The man don't know on

which side his bread is buttered."

"So I think. He ought to consider that you are a man of

consequence here."

"I rather think I have some influence in Milltown," said Mr. Archer,

with vulgar complacency; "I fancy I could oust Mr. Taylor from

his position if I caught him indulging in favoritism. But you may be

mistaken, Sam."

Mr. Archer looked thoughtful.

Finally he said: "I think it will be well to pay some attention to Mr.

Taylor. It may turn the scale. When you go to school to-morrow

I will send by you an invitation to Mr. Taylor to dine with us.

We'll give him a good dinner and get him good-natured."

So when Sam went to school in the morning he bore a note from his

father, containing a dinner invitation.

"Say to your father that I will accept his invitation with pleasure,"

said the principal.

It was the first time he had received such a mark of attention from

Mr. Archer, and, being a shrewd man, he understood at once what

it signified.

"He's coming, father," announced Sam, on his return home.

"Did he seem gratified by the invitation?"

"I couldn't tell exactly. He said he would accept with pleasure."

"No doubt, he feels the attention," said Mr. Archer pompously.

"He knows I am a man of prominence and influence, and the

invitation will give him social status."

Mr. Archer would have been offended if he had been told that the

principal was more highly respected in town than himself, in spite

of his wealth and fine house.

When the principal sat down to Mr. Archer's dinner table, he

partook of a dinner richer and more varied than his modest salary

enabled him to indulge in at home. Nevertheless, he had more

than once been as well entertained by others, and rather annoyed

Mr. Archer by not appearing to appreciate the superiority of the

dinner.

"Confound the man! He takes it as coolly as if he were accustomed

to dine as sumptuously every day," thought Archer.

"I hope you are enjoying dinner, Mr. Taylor," he said.

"Very much, thank you."

"I rather plume myself on my cook. I venture to say that I pay five

dollars a month more than any other person in Milltown. But I must

have a good dinner. I am very particular on that score."

"Have you a good cook, Mr. Taylor?" asked Mrs. Archer

condescendingly.

"Why, the fact is, that we keep but one servant."

"I suppose your salary will not permit you to keep more than one

servant."

"You are right, madam."

"Really, Mr. Taylor, I think your salary ought to be increased,"

said Mr. Archer graciously. "The laborer is worthy of his hire, eh?

I must see if I can't induce the town to vote you an increased

compensation."

"Thank you," said the principal quietly. "A larger salary would, of

course, be acceptable, but I doubt whether the town will feel like

voting it."

"Rest easy," said Mr. Archer pompously. "I think I can bring it

about."

"Oh, by the by," continued the rich man, "Samuel tells me that you

have offered two scholarship prizes."

"Yes, sir--to the two scholars who pass the best examination."

"How does my boy stand in the matter?"

"He is one of the most prominent competitors."

"I am very glad to hear it--very glad. Sam, you must do your best

to-morrow. It would gratify me very much if you should succeed.

I am ambitious for my son, Mr. Taylor, and I don't mind admitting

it."

"Your ambition is a very natural one," said the principal. "Sam's

scholarship is excellent and his record is very satisfactory."

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor. Your assurance is deeply gratifying to

Mrs. Archer and myself. It will be the happiest day of our lives if

Sam succeeds in the approaching competition."

"He has a very fair chance of success, sir."

"I think I've fixed things," said Mr. Archer complacently, after the

principal had taken his leave. "The prize is as good as yours, Sam."

Wait and Hope; Or, A Plucky Boy's Luck · 第 19 / 38 章