Paul Prescott's Charge Part 17

The selectman was already within a hundred rods. He had not yet apparently noticed the pedler's cart, so that this was in our hero's favor. Mr. Stubbs had already arranged his plan of operations.

"This is what you are to do, Paul," said he, quickly. "c.o.c.k your hat on the side of your head, considerably forward, so that he can't see much of your face. Then here's a cigar to stick in your mouth. You can make believe that you are smoking. If you are the sort of boy I reckon you are, he'll never think it's you."

Paul instantly adopted this suggestion.

Slipping his hat to one side in the jaunty manner characteristic of young America, he began to puff very gravely at a cigar the pedler handed him, frequently taking it from his mouth, as he had seen older persons do, to knock away the ashes. Nothwithstanding his alarm, his love of fun made him enjoy this little stratagem, in which he bore his part successfully.

The selectman eyed him intently. Paul began to tremble from fear of discovery, but his apprehensions were speedily dissipated by a remark of the new-comer, "My boy, you are forming a very bad habit."

Paul did not dare to answer lest his voice should betray him. To his relief, the pedler spoke----

"Just what I tell him, sir, but I suppose he thinks he must do as his father does."

By this time the vehicles had pa.s.sed each other, and the immediate peril was over.

"Now, Paul," said his companion, laughing, "I'll trouble you for that cigar, if you have done with it. The old gentleman's advice was good. If I'd never learned to smoke, I wouldn't begin now."

Our hero was glad to take the cigar from his mouth. The brief time he had held it was sufficient to make him slightly dizzy.

XIII.

PAUL REACHES THE CITY.

Towards evening they drew up before a small house with a neat yard in front.

"I guess we'll get out here," said Mr. Stubbs. "There's a gentleman lives here that I feel pretty well acquainted with. Shouldn't wonder if he'd let us stop over Sunday. Whoa, Goliah, glad to get home, hey?" as the horse p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and showed manifest signs of satisfaction.

"Now, youngster, follow me, and I guess I can promise you some supper, if Mrs. Stubbs hasn't forgotten her old tricks."

They pa.s.sed through the entry into the kitchen, where Mrs. Stubbs was discovered before the fire toasting slices of bread.

"Lor, Jehoshaphat," said she, "I didn't expect you so soon," and she looked inquiringly at his companion.

"A young friend who is going to stay with us till Monday," explained the pedler. "His name is Paul Prescott."

"I'm glad to see you, Paul," said Mrs. Stubbs with a friendly smile.

"You must be tired if you've been traveling far. Take a seat. Here's a rocking-chair for you."

This friendly greeting made Paul feel quite at home. Having no children, the pedler and his wife exerted themselves to make the time pa.s.s pleasantly to their young acquaintance. Paul could not help contrasting them with Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, not very much to the advantage of the latter. On Sunday he went to church with them, and the peculiar circ.u.mstances in which he was placed, made him listen to the sermon with unusual attention. It was an exposition of the text, "My help cometh from the Lord," and Paul could not help feeling that it was particularly applicable to his own case. It encouraged him to hope, that, however uncertain his prospects appeared, G.o.d would help him if he put his trust in Him.

On Monday morning Paul resumed his journey, with an ample stock of provisions supplied by Mrs. Stubbs, in the list of which doughnuts occupied a prominent place; this being at the particular suggestion of Mr. Stubbs.

Forty or fifty miles remained to be traversed before his destination would be reached. The road was not a difficult one to find, and he made it out without much questioning. The first night, he sought permission to sleep in a barn.

He met with a decided refusal.

He was about to turn away in disappointment, when he was called back.

"You are a little too fast, youngster. I said I wouldn't let you sleep in my barn, and I won't; but I've got a spare bed in the house, and if you choose you shall occupy it."

Under the guise of roughness, this man had a kind heart. He inquired into the particulars of Paul's story, and at the conclusion terrified him by saying that he had been very foolish and ought to be sent back.

Nevertheless, when Paul took leave of him the next morning, he did not go away empty-handed.

"If you must be so foolish as to set up for yourself, take this," said the farmer, placing half a dollar in his hand. "You may reach the city after the banks are closed for the day, you know," he added, jocularly.

But it was in the morning that Paul came in sight of the city. He climbed up into a high tree, which, having the benefit of an elevated situation, afforded him an extensive prospect. Before him lay the great city of which he had so often heard, teeming with life and activity.

Half in eager antic.i.p.ation, half in awe and wonder at its vastness, our young pilgrim stood upon the threshold of this great Babel.

Everything looked new and strange. It had never entered Paul's mind, that there could be so many houses in the whole State as now rose up before him. He got into Broadway, and walked on and on thinking that the street must end somewhere. But the farther he walked the thicker the houses seemed crowded together. Every few rods, too, he came to a cross street, which seemed quite as densely peopled as the one on which he was walking. One part of the city was the same as another to Paul, since he was equally a stranger to all. He wandered listlessly along, whither fancy led. His mind was constantly excited by the new and strange objects which met him at every step.

As he was looking in at a shop window, a boy of about his own age, stopped and inquired confidentially, "when did you come from the country?"

"This morning," said Paul, wondering how a stranger should know that he was a country boy.

"Could you tell me what is the price of potatoes up your way?" asked the other boy, with perfect gravity.

"I don't know," said Paul, innocently.

"I'm sorry for that," said the other, "as I have got to buy some for my wife and family."

Paul stared in surprise for a moment, and then realizing that he was being made game of, began to grow angry.

"You'd better go home to your wife and family," he said with spirit, "or you may get hurt."

"Bully for you, country!" answered the other with a laugh. "You're not as green as you look."

"Thank you," said Paul, "I wish I could say as much for you."

Tired with walking, Paul at length sat down in a doorway, and watched with interest the hurrying crowds that pa.s.sed before him. Everybody seemed to be in a hurry, pressing forward as if life and death depended on his haste. There were lawyers with their sharp, keen glances; merchants with calculating faces; speculators pondering on the chances of a rise or fall in stocks; errand boys with bundles under their arms; business men hurrying to the slip to take the boat for Brooklyn or Jersey City,--all seemed intent on business of some kind, even to the ragged newsboys who had just obtained their supply of evening papers, and were now crying them at the top of their voices,--and very discordant ones at that, so Paul thought. Of the hundreds pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing before him, every one had something to do. Every one had a home to go to. Perhaps it was not altogether strange that a feeling of desolation should come over Paul as he recollected that he stood alone, homeless, friendless, and, it might be, shelterless for the coming night.

"Yet," thought he with something of hopefulness, "there must be something for me to do as well as the rest."

Just then a boy some two years older than Paul paced slowly by, and in pa.s.sing, chanced to fix his eyes upon our hero. He probably saw something in Paul which attracted him, for he stepped up and extending his hand, said, "why, Tom, how came you here?"

"My name isn't Tom," said Paul, feeling a little puzzled by this address.

"Why, so it isn't. But you look just like my friend, Tom Crocker."

To this succeeded a few inquiries, which Paul unsuspiciously answered.

"Do you like oysters?" inquired the new-comer, after a while.

"Very much."