The Peddler's Boy Part 2

CHAP. VI.

A n.o.bLE RESOLUTION.

As I said, the children all liked the good old gentleman, for some reason or other. Now I think of it, I guess the reason of their liking him might have been hid away in some sly place, as was the reason of Mr. Somebody for _not_ liking Doctor Fell. This Mr. Somebody used to say, as you probably have heard,

"I do not like you, Doctor Fell, The reason why I cannot tell."

If the children had put their thoughts into rhyme, as Mr. Somebody did, when he gave vent to his feelings in the Doctor Fell affair, no doubt they would have said this, or something like it:

"I love you, sir, I love you well; The reason why I cannot tell."

When supper was over that evening at Deacon Bissell's, the sun had been down some time. The stars were beginning to peep out of their hiding places, and the moon, who had shown her face a little before the sun took his leave, had now grown bolder, and shone out brightly and clearly, as if she were not afraid of anybody, and as if she had some sort of a notion that she had got to be mistress.

"Well, children," said Captain Lovechild, "what are you going to drive at next?"

Mrs. Bissell remarked that she thought it was almost time for them to drive towards home, but said that she guessed the captain had something to show them, and that they might stay just half an hour longer.

Of course all the boys and girls flocked around the captain; and, sure enough, he went into another room, and showed them one of the most curious looking instruments, they all thought, that they had ever seen in their lives.

"Oh, what is that, Captain Lovechild, and what is it for?" So the children all asked, in nearly the same breath.

I suppose, indeed, I hope, that you are so much interested in my story, that you have already had the same questions pa.s.s through your mind; and I will answer your questions as the captain answered those of his little friends. The instrument which the kind old gentleman had brought with him all the way from Boston, on purpose to please and instruct these children, was called a _telescope_. A telescope is a long, hollow cylinder, with gla.s.ses in it. It is so made that when you look through it, at anything a great way off, like the moon and the stars, they appear a great deal larger. It seems to bring them near to you. You can see them much more distinctly, and as you look at them, you can find out many wonderful things about them.

As soon as the captain had got the instrument in order, he took it out into the yard, and pointed one end of the long tube towards the moon.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LOOKING THROUGH THE TELESCOPE.]

"Now, then," said he, "just take a peep at the moon. You'll see something up there, which will make you wonder, or I'm very much mistaken. One at a time."

And the children, who did not need to be urged much, gathered around the lower end of the telescope, first one, and then another, until they had all got a peep at the wonderful things in the moon. I can't tell you how much they were delighted. It would fill a small volume, if I should set down all their "ohs," and their "ahs," and everything else which came rattling out of their mouths, while they were looking through the telescope. But I will tell you what Samuel Bissell said, though. I will tell you one thing he said, at all events. After he had looked through the instrument, and had listened to what the old gentleman said about the moon, and the planets, and the fixed stars, "I declare," said he, "I don't know anything. _I'll be somebody_, I'll know something and do something, if I live."

Samuel, as you will perceive, had his little head so full of the wonders of the heavens, and had such a strong desire to add to his stock of knowledge, that he used pretty bold language. He did not say, "I'll _try_ to be somebody," as he might have said, if he had studied his speech a little. His head was full, so that his words burst out from his mouth as the water would burst out of a hole in the dam. Yes, and his _heart_ spoke, too, as well as his _head_. More sincere and honest words never dropped from his lips.

A new light dawned on that youth's mind, that evening. From the moment that he uttered the resolution that he would "be somebody," he labored to gather a large harvest of knowledge; to be something more than a mere cipher in the world; to act his part well.

"And did he succeed?" you are ready to ask. I should have to get ahead of my story to answer the question. But one thing I will say here: that if a boy makes up his mind, deliberately and firmly, that he will climb up to some high point on the hill of science, and that he will be respected and honored among his fellows--if he brings his hands, and his head, and his heart to the task, and goes ahead, through thick and thin, not turning out of his path, however he may be tempted to do so, he is almost sure to succeed in reaching what he aims at; that is, if his life is spared and his health does not give out. I have great faith in a strong will, a clear head, right principles, a good stock of patience, and a steady disposition to go ahead. Some boys, when you talk to them about doing something and being something, always throw a bucket of cold water over you by saying, "There are so many difficulties," or, "If I were only in such a boy's place!" Well, you may always be sure that such cowards will never do anything or be anything worth mentioning; for it is not very common for people to accomplish much by _accident_, and these little chaps, should they ever succeed at all, would have to blunder into their success.

After hearing this anecdote of Samuel, you will not wonder that, some years after this resolution was made, when he heard of his father's loss, he played the part of a hero. I will tell you about that in another chapter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "WHAT WILL BECOME OF YOU?"]

CHAP. VII.

A TALK ABOUT THE FUTURE.

"Samuel," said his father, a few days after he learned that he was a bankrupt, "I don't know what is to become of you. I've lost all the property I had. I'm not worth a red cent."

"I guess I can take care of myself, father," said the lad. "Don't worry about that."

"Why, what can you do, Samuel?"

"Not much of anything now, I suppose--anything which will put dollars and cents into my pocket--but I can learn, if I can get a chance."

"And what would you like to do for a living?"

"There are a good many things which I would like to do," said Samuel, "and may be I shall do them some day; but I've been thinking that just now, I had better go to work in the factory."

"What! in the cotton factory?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Mason's."

"But would you like that kind of work?"

"I don't know, sir, I'm sure; I should like to try, at any rate. I should like to do something."

He did try. That very week, Samuel got a place in Mr. Mason's factory.

His wages were not great, at first. But he earned more than enough to pay for his board at once, and in a month or two he did much better than that. Samuel had to work hard, though. The factory bell rang at day-break, and he was obliged to get up and work an hour or more before breakfast. All day long, from early morning till evening, and in the winter season, till nine o'clock at night, he was required to be at work, with the exception of the time--and that was rather brief--allotted to meals. It was a very rare thing that the boys in the factory had a holiday. Sunday, to be sure--they had that to themselves. But most of the boys, it is to be hoped, were too well brought up and too conscientious to devote any part of that day to play and amus.e.m.e.nt.

Once in a great while, however, "like angels' visits, few and far between," came a holiday. They have a great time, you know, in every part of the good old commonwealth of Ma.s.sachusetts, when the day of the annual thanksgiving comes. Very few people, old or young, think of doing much business on that day.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAP. VIII.

THANKSGIVING AND TEMPTATION.

Well, in process of time, that long looked for festival arrived. No boy in Meadville had to sleep with an eye open that morning, for fear he would not hear the first accent of the tongue of the factory bell.

The bell slept; and the boys slept, too, until they were called to breakfast.

Samuel had not become very intimate with many of the factory boys.

Indeed, among them all, there was only one that he cared a great deal about a.s.sociating with; and this one he loved as a brother. The name of this boy--or rather, the name by which I prefer to call him in this narrative--was Frederick n.o.ble. Frederick and Samuel, when they were not in the factory, were half their time together. I hardly know what made them so much attached to each other; though probably one reason was that the circ.u.mstances of the two were somewhat similar.

Frederick's father, as well as Samuel's, had once been a man of property, but, like Mr. Bissell, had become comparatively poor.

There's no accounting for likes and dislikes, though. Samuel and Frederick were fond of each other, and I presume it would have puzzled either of them to tell the reason for this fondness.

These two boys, according to an arrangement which had been made a long time beforehand, were companions on thanksgiving day. If I remember aright, the governor's proclamation for thanksgiving, at the time when Frederick and Samuel were boys together, used to have these words tacked to the last end of it: "All servile labor and vain recreation on said day are by law forbidden." Still, parents and guardians allowed considerable lat.i.tude to the children in their amus.e.m.e.nts, if the governor did not. It was pretty generally understood that the young folks were to have a good time of it, on thanksgiving day.

It very often happens, that when we enjoy ourselves most--when we come nearest to being perfectly happy--we encounter the strongest temptations, or, what amounts to the same thing, we are induced to yield to temptation.