ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
Andy was quite unconscious of the good fortune which had come to him.
Though a manly and stout-hearted boy, he was, in fact, getting
discouraged. He was willing and anxious to work, but there seemed to
be no work for him to do. He would have left home some time since to
try his fortune elsewhere, but for the entreaties of his mother, who
didn't like to lose him.
In the morning after Dr. Townley's visit to Boston, our hero knocked
at the doctor's front door.
"Is Dr. Townley at home?" he asked.
"Yes, Andy," said the doctor, who overheard the inquiry. "Come right
in. You're just the boy I want to see."
Andy entered, twirling his hat awkwardly in his hand.
"Good-morning, Andy," said the doctor, cordially. "Take a seat."
"Thank you, sir," said Andy, but did not sit down.
"What is the matter? You are looking rather blue this morning."
"Faith, doctor, and that's the way I feel entirely."
"You're not sick, are you? Let me feel your pulse."
"No, I'm not sick, but it's discouraged I am."
"Why should a stout boy in good health be discouraged?"
"I can't get any work to do, and I'm afraid we'll all starve."
"It strikes me," said the doctor, fixing his eyes on Andy, enjoying
the effect of his intended announcement, "that I wouldn't talk of
starving, if I were as rich as you are, Andy."
"As rich as me?" echoed Andy. "Shure, doctor, you're jokin'."
"Not at all."
"Why, I haven't got but seventy-five cents in the world."
"Now it's you that are joking, Andy."
"I wish I was," sighed Andy.
"Why, I had it on good authority that you were worth five thousand
dollars."
Andy stared in earnest.
"I see you're laughin' at me, doctor," he said, suspecting that Dr.
Townley was making game of him.
"No, I am not. I am in earnest."
"Who told you such a big falsehood as that, now?" asked our hero,
bewildered.
"Perhaps I dreamed that somebody told me Colonel Preston had left you
five thousand dollars in his will."
"Are you jokin'? Is it true?" asked Andy, eagerly, something in the
doctor's face telling him that he really meant what he said.
"Maybe I dreamed, too, that the colonel left your mother the house she
used to live in."
"Is it true, doctor? Tell me, quick!" said Andy, trembling with
excitement.
"Yes, my boy, it's all true, and I'm glad to be the first to
congratulate you on your good fortune."
He held out his hand, which our hero seized, and then, unable to
repress his exultation, threw up his cap to the ceiling and indulged
in an extempore dance, the doctor meanwhile looking on with benevolent
gratification.
"Excuse me, doctor; I couldn't help it," he panted.
"It's all right, Andy. Are you discouraged now?"
"Divil a bit, doctor. It's wild I am with joy."
"And you don't think of starving yet, eh, Andy?"
"I'll wait a bit. But why didn't I know before?"
"Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."
So Andy heard the account, which need not be repeated.
"Now," continued the doctor, "I'll tell you what plan I have for you.
Mr. Graves wants to take a boy into his store who will buy an interest
in the business and become his partner. He thinks well of you, and is
willing to take you. What do you say?"
"I'll do whatever you think best, doctor."
"Then I think this is a good opening for you. Mr. Graves wants to
retire from business before long. Probably by the time you are
twenty-one he will leave everything in your hands. You will be paid
weekly wages and perhaps be entitled to a portion of the profits--more
than enough to support you all comfortably. What do you say? Shall we
have a new firm in the village?
"GRAVES & BURKE."
Andy's eyes sparkled with proud anticipation. It was so far above any
dream he had ever formed.
"It's what I'd like above all things," he said. "Oh, what will mother
say? I must go and tell her."
"Go, by all means, Andy, and when you have told her, come back, and
I'll go over with you to Mr. Graves' store, and we'll talk over the
arrangements with him."
Mrs. Burke's delight at her own success and that of Andy may be
imagined. She, too, had been getting despondent, and it seemed almost
like a fairy tale to find herself the owner of a house, and her boy
likely to be taken into partnership with the principal trader in the
village. She invoked blessings on the memory of Colonel Preston,
through whose large-hearted generosity this had come to pass, but
could not help speculating on what Mrs. Preston would say. She
understood very well that she would be very angry.
Mrs. Preston did not dispute the will. She might have done so, but for
her fear that her own criminal act would be brought to light. Godfrey,
who was even more disturbed than she was at the success of "that low
Irish boy," begged her to do it, but in this case she did not yield to
his entreaties. She had never dared to take him into confidence
respecting her destruction of the other will.
While we are upon this subject, we may as well trace out the future
career of Mrs. Preston. Some years later she was induced, by the
expectation of aiding her social standing, to marry an adventurer who
appeared to be doing a flourishing business as a State Street broker.
By spurious representations, he managed to get hold of her property,
and to be appointed Godfrey's guardian. The result may be foreseen. He
managed to spend or waste the whole and when Godfrey was twenty-one,
he and his mother were penniless. Andy, who was now sole
representative of the firm of Graves & Burke, and in receipt of an
excellent income, heard of the misfortunes of his old enemy, and out
of regard to the memory of his old benefactor voluntarily offered Mrs.
Preston an allowance of five hundred dollars. It cost her pride a
great deal to accept this favor from the boy she had looked down upon
as "only an Irish boy," but her necessity was greater than her pride,
and she saw no other way of escaping the poorhouse. So she
ungraciously accepted. But Andy did not care for thanks. He felt that
he was doing his duty, and he asked no other reward than that
consciousness. Mrs. Preston was allowed to make her home, rent free,
in Mrs. Burke's old house, Andy having built a better and more
commodious one, in which he had installed his mother as mistress. Mrs.
Preston grew old fast, in appearance, and fretted without ceasing for
the fortune and position which she had lost. Her husband left her, and
has not since been heard of. As for Godfrey, Andy secured him a
passage to California, where he led a disreputable life. There is a
rumor that he was killed in a drunken brawl at Sacramento not long
since, but I have not been able to learn whether this is true or not.
His loss of fortune had something to do with his going to the bad, but
I am afraid, with his character and tendencies, that neither in
prosperity nor in adversity would he have built up a good character,
or led an honorable career. His course had been, in all respects, far
different from that of our hero, who, already prosperous, seems likely
to go on adding to his wealth, and growing in the esteem of the best
portion of the community. His success, aided, indeed, by good fortune,
has served to demonstrate the favorable effects of honesty, industry,
and good principles, upon individual success. He is not the first, nor
will he be the last, to achieve prosperity and the respect of the
community, though beginning life as "only an Irish boy."
THE END
Transcriber's comments:
Spelling has been left as in the original book. Specifically, the
dialect and typographical errors have been left unchanged.