Bound to Rise

H >> Horatio Alger >> Bound to Rise

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On Saturday evening, after he had received his week's pay, Luke
Harrison, who worked in a shop near by, met him at the post office.

"Come along, Harry," he said. "Let us play a game of billiards."

"You must excuse me," said Harry.

"Oh, come along," said Luke, taking him by the arm; "it's only
twenty-five cents."

"I can't afford it,"

"Can't afford it! Now that's nonsense. You just changed a two-dollar
note for those postage stamps."

"I know that; but I must save that money for another purpose."

"What's the use of being stingy, Harry? Try one game."

"You can get somebody else to play with you, Luke."

"Oh, hang it, if you care so much for a quarter, I'll pay for the
game myself. Only come and play."

Harry shook his head.

"I don't want to amuse myself at your expense."

"You are a miser," said Luke, angrily.

"You can call me so, if you like," said Harry, firmly; "but that
won't make it so."

"I don't see how you can call yourself anything else, if you are
so afraid to spend your money."

"I have good reasons."

"What are they?"

"I told you once that I had another use for the money."

"To hoard away in an old stocking," said Luke, sneering.

"You may say so, if you like," said Harry, turning away.

He knew he was right, but it was disagreeable to be called a
miser. He was too proud to justify himself to Luke, who spent all
his money foolishly, though earning considerably larger wages than
he.

There was one thing that Harry had not yet been able to do to any
great extent, though it was something he had at heart. He had not
forgotten his motto, "Live and Learn," and now that he was in a
fair way to make a living, he felt that he had made no advance in
learning during the few weeks since he arrived in Glenville.

The day previous he had heard, for the first time, that there
was a public library in another part of the town, which was open
evenings. Though it was two miles distant, and he had been at work
all day, he determined to walk up there and get a book. He felt that
he was very ignorant, and that his advance in the world depended
upon his improving all opportunities that might present themselves
for extending his limited knowledge. This was evidently one.

After his unsatisfactory interview with Luke, he set out for the
upper village, as it was called. Forty minutes' walk brought him
to the building in which the library was kept. An elderly man had
charge of it--a Mr. Parmenter.

"Can I take out a book?" asked Harry.

"Do you live in town?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't remember seeing you before. You don't live in this village,
do you?"

"No, sir. I live in the lower village."

"What is your name?"

"Harry Walton."

"I don't remember any Walton family."

"My father lives in Granton. I am working for Mr. James Leavitt."

"I have no doubt this is quite correct, but I shall have to have
Mr. Leavitt's certificate to that effect, before I can put your
name down, and trust you with books."

"Then can't I take any book to-night?" asked Harry, disappointed.

"I am afraid not."

So it seemed his two-mile walk was for nothing. He must retrace
his steps and come again Monday night.

He was turning away disappointed when Dr. Townley, of the lower
village, who lived near Mr. Leavitt, entered the library.

"My wife wants a book in exchange for this, Mr. Parmenter," he
said. "Have you got anything new in? Ah, Harry Walton, how came
you here? Do you take books out of the library?"

"That's is what I came up for, but the librarian says I must bring
a line from Mr. Leavitt, telling who I am."

"If Dr. Townley knows you, that is sufficient," said the librarian.

"He is all right, Mr. Parmenter. He is a young neighbor of mine."

"That is enough. He can select a book."

Harry was quite relieved at this fortunate meeting, and after a
little reflection selected the first volume of "Rollin's Universal
History," a book better known to our fathers than the present
generation.

"That's a good, solid book, Harry," said the doctor.

"Most of our young people select stories."

"I like stories very much," said Harry; "but I have only a little
time to read, and I must try to learn something."

"You are a sensible boy," said the doctor, emphatically.

"I'm afraid there are few of our young people who take such wise views
of what is best for them. Most care only for present enjoyment."

"I have got my own way to make," said Harry, "and I suppose that
is what influences me. My father is poor and cannot help me, and
I want to rise in the world."

"You are going the right way to work. Do you intend to take out
books often from the library?"

"Yes, sir."

"It will be a long walk from the lower village."

"I would walk farther rather than do without the books."

"I can save you at any rate from walking back. My chaise is outside,
and, if you will jump in, I will carry you home."

"Thank you, doctor. I shall be very glad to ride."

On the way, Dr. Townley said: "I have a few miscellaneous book in
my medical library, which I will lend to you with pleasure, if you
will come in. It may save you an occasional walk to the library."

Harry thanked him, and not long afterwards availed himself of the
considerate proposal. Dr Townley was liberally educated, and as far
as his professional engagements would permit kept up with general
literature. He gave Harry some valuable directions as to the books
which it would benefit him to read, and more than once took him up
on the road to the library.

Once a week regularly Harry wrote home. He knew that his letters
would give pleasure to the family, and he never allowed anything
to interfere with his duty.

His father wrote: "We are getting on about as usual. The cow does
tolerably well, but is not as good as the one I lost. I have not
yet succeeded in laying up anything toward paying for her. Somehow,
whenever I have a few dollars laid aside Tom wants shoes, or your
sister wants a dress, or some other expense swallows it up."

Harry wrote in reply: "Don't trouble yourself, father, about your
debt to Squire Green. If I have steady work, and keep my health,
I shall have enough to pay it by the time it comes due."

CHAPTER XIV

THE TAILOR'S CUSTOMER

At the end of six weeks from the date of Robert's departure, Harry
had been paid eighteen dollars. Of this sum he had spent but one
dollar, and kept the balance in his pocketbook. He did not care
to send it home until he had enough to meet Squire Green's demand,
knowing that his father would be able to meet his ordinary expenses.
Chiefly through the reports of Luke Harrison he was acquiring the
reputation of meanness, though, as we know, he was far from deserving
it.

"See how the fellow dresses," said Luke, contemptuously, to two
of his companions one evening. "His clothes are shabby enough, and
he hasn't got an overcoat at all. He hoards his money, and is too
stingy to buy one. See, there he comes, buttoned to the chin to
keep warm, and I suppose he has more money in his pocketbook than
the whole of us together. I wouldn't be as mean as he is for a
hundred dollars."

"You'd rather get trusted for your clothes than do without them,"
said Frank Heath, slyly; for he happened to know that Luke had
run up a bill with the tailor, about which the latter was getting
anxious.

"What if I do," said Luke, sharply, "as long as I am going to pay
for them?"

"Oh, nothing," said Frank. "I didn't say anything against it, did
I? I suppose you are as able to owe the tailor as anyone."

By this time, Harry had come up.

"Where are you going, Walton?" asked Luke. "You look cold."

"Yes, it's a cold day."

"Left your overcoat at home, didn't you?"

Harry colored. The fact was, he felt the need of an overcoat, but
didn't know how to manage getting one. At the lowest calculation,
it would cost all the money he had saved up for one, and the purchase
would defeat all his plans. The one he had worn at home during the
previous winter was too small for him, and had been given to his
brother.

"If I only could get through the winter without one," he thought,
"I should be all right." But a New England winter is not to be
braved with impunity, useless protected by adequate clothing. Luke's
sneer was therefore not without effect. But he answered, quietly:
"I did not leave it at home, for I have none to leave."

"I suppose you are bound to the tailor's to order one."

"What makes you think so?" asked Harry.

"You are not such a fool as to go without one when you have money
in your pocket, are you?"

"You seem very curious about my private affairs," said Harry, rather
provoked.

"He's only drumming up customers for the tailor," said Frank Heath.
"He gets a commission on all he brings."

"That's the way he pays his bill," said Sam Anderson.

"Quit fooling, boys," said Luke, irritated. "I ain't a drummer. I
pay my bills, like a gentleman."

"By keeping the tailor waiting," said Frank.

"Quit that!"

So attention was diverted from Harry by this opportune attack upon
Luke, much to our hero's relief. Nevertheless, he saw, that in
order to preserve his health, he must have some outer garment, and
in order the better to decide what to do, he concluded to step into
the tailor's, and inquire his prices.

The tailor, Merrill by name, had a shop over the dry goods store,
and thither Harry directed his steps. There was one other person
in the shop, a young fellow but little larger than Harry, though
two years older, who was on a visit to an aunt in the neighborhood,
but lived in Boston. He belonged to a rich family, and had command
of considerable money. His name was Maurice Tudor. He had gone into
the shop to leave a coat to be repaired.

"How are you, Walton?" he said, for he knew our hero slightly.

"Pretty well. Thank you."

"It's pretty cold for October."

"Yes, unusually so."

"Mr. Merrill," said Harry, "I should like to inquire the price of
an overcoat. I may want to order one by and by."

"What sort of one do you want--pretty nice?"

"No, I can't afford anything nice--something as cheap as possible."

"This is the cheapest goods I have," said the tailor, pointing to
some coarse cloth near by.

"I can make you up a coat from that for eighteen dollars."

"Eighteen dollars!" exclaimed Harry, in dismay. "Is that the cheapest
you have?"

"The very cheapest."

After a minute's pause he added, "I might take off a dollar for
cash. I've got enough of running up bills. There's Luke Harrison
owes me over thirty dollars, and I don't believe he means to pay
it al all."

"If I buy, I shall pay cash," said Harry, quietly.

"You can't get anything cheaper than this." said the tailor.

"Very likely not," said Harry, soberly. "I'll think about it, and
let you know if I decide to take it."

Maurice Tudor was a silent listener to this dialogue. He saw Harry's
sober expression, and he noticed the tone in which he repeated
"eighteen dollars," and he guessed the truth. He lingered after
Harry went out, and said:

"That's a good fellow."

"Harry Walton?" repeated the tailor. "Yes, he's worth a dozen Luke
Harrisons."

"Has he been in the village long?"

"No, not more than two or three months. He works for Mr. Leavitt."

"He is rather poor, I suppose."

"Yes. The boys call him mean; but Leavitt tells me he is saving up
every cent to send to his father, who is a poor farmer."

"That's a good thing in him."

"Yes, I wish I could afford to give him and overcoat. He needs
one, but I suppose seventeen dollars will come rather hard on him
to pay. If it was Luke Harrison, it wouldn't trouble him much."

"You mean he would get it on tick."

"Yes, if he found anybody fool enough to trust him. I've done it
as long as I'm going to. He won't get a dollar more credit out of
me till he pays his bill."

"You're perfectly right, there."

"So I think. He earns a good deal more than Walton, but spends what
he earns on billiards, drinks and cigars."

"There he comes up the stairs, now."

In fact, Luke with his two companions directly afterwards entered
the shop.

"Merrill," said he, "have you got in any new goods? I must have a
new pair of pants."

"Yes, I've got some new goods. There's a piece open before you."

"It's a pretty thing, Merrill," said Luke, struck by it; "what's
your price for a pair off of it?"

"Ten dollars."

"Isn't that rather steep?"

"No; the cloth is superior quality."

"Well, darn the expense. I like it, and must have it. Just measure
me, will you?"

"Are you ready to pay the account I have against you?"

"How much is it?"

The tailor referred to his books.

"Thirty-two dollars and fifty cents," he answered.

"All right, Merrill. Wait till the pants are done, and I'll pay
the whole at once."

"Ain't my credit good?" blustered Luke.

"You can make it good," said the tailor, significantly.

"I didn't think you'd make such a fuss about a small bill."

"I didn't think you'd find is so difficult to pay a small bill,"
returned the tailor.

Luke looked discomfited. He was silent a moment, and then changed
his tactics.

"Come, Merrill," he said, persuasively; "don't be alarmed. I'm good
for it, I guess. I haven't got the money convenient to-day. I lent
fifty dollars. I shall have it back next week and then I will pay
you."

"I am glad to hear it," said Merrill.

"So just measure me and hurry up the pants."

"I'm sorry but I can't till you settle the bill."

"Look here, has Walton been talking against me?"

"No; what makes you think so?"

"He don't like me, because I twitted him with his meanness."

"I don't consider him mean."

"Has he ever bought anything of you?"

"No."

"I knew it. He prefers to go ragged and save his money."

"He's too honorable to run up a bill without paying it."

"Do you mean me?" demanded Luke, angrily.

"I hope not. I presume you intend to pay your bills."

Luke Harrison left the shop. He saw that he exhausted his credit
with Merrill. As to paying the bill, there was not much chance of
that at present, as he had but one dollar and a half in his pocket.

CHAPTER XV

"BY EXPRESS"

"There's a model for you," said the tailor to Maurice Tudor. "He
won't pay his bills."

"How did you come to trust him in the first place?"

"I didn't know him then as well as I do now. I make it a practice to
accommodate my customers by trusting them for a month or two, if they
want it. But Luke Harrison isn't one to be trusted."

"I should say not."

"If young Walton wants to get an overcoat on credit, I shan't object.
I judge something by looks, and I am sure he is honest."

"Well, good night, Mr. Merrill. You'll have my coat done soon?"

"Yes, Mr. Tudor. It shall be ready for you to-morrow."

Maurice Tudor left the tailor's shop, revolving a new idea which
had just entered his mind. Now he remembered that he had at home
and excellent overcoat which he had worn the previous winter, but
which was now too small for him. He had no younger brother to wear
it, nor in his circumstances was such economy necessary. As well
as he could judge by observing Harry's figure, it would be an
excellent fit for him. Why should he not give it to him?

The opportunity came. On his way home he overtook our hero, plunged
in thought. In fact, he was still occupied with the problem of the
needed overcoat.

"Good evening, Harry," said young Tudor.

"Good evening, Mr. Tudor," answered Harry. "Are you going back to
the city soon?"

"In the course of a week or two. Mr. Leavitt's son is in a store
in Boston, is he not?"

"Yes. I have taken his place in the shop."

"By the way, I saw you in Merrill's this evening."

"Yes; I was pricing an overcoat."

"I bought this one in Boston just before I came away. I have a very
good one left from last winter but it is too small for me. It is
of no use to me. If I thought you would accept it, I would offer
it to you."

Harry's heart gave a joyful bound.

"Accept it!" he repeated. "Indeed I will and thank you for your
great kindness."

"Then I will write home at once to have it sent to me. I also have
a suit which I have outgrown; if you wouldn't be too proud to take
it."

"I am not so foolish. It will be a great favor."

"I thought you would take it right," said Maurice, well pleased. "I
will also send for the suit. I will get my mother to forward them
by express."

"They will be as good as money to me," said Harry; "and that is
not very plenty with me."

"Will you tell me something of your circumstances? Perhaps I may
have it in my power to help you."

Harry, assured of his friendly interest, did not hesitate to give
him a full account of his plans in life, and especially of his desire
to relieve his father of the burden of poverty. His straightforward
narrative made a very favorable impression upon Maurice, who could
not help reflecting: "How far superior this boy is to Luke Harrison
and his tribe!"

"Thank you for telling me all this," he said. "It was not from mere
curiosity that I asked."

"I am sure of that," said Harry. "Thanks to your generosity,
I shall present a much more respectable appearance, besides being
made more comfortable."

Three days later a large bundle was brought by the village expressman
to Mr. Leavitt's door.

"A bundle for you, Walton," said the expressman, seeing Harry in
the yard.

"What is there to pay?" he asked.

"Nothing. It was prepaid in the city?"

Harry took it up to his room and opened it eagerly. First came
the promised overcoat. It was of very handsome French cloth, with
a velvet collar, and rich silk facings, far higher in cost than any
Mr. Merrill would have made for him. It fitted as if it had been
made for him. Next came, not one, but two complete suits embracing
coat, vest and pants. One of pepper-and-salt cloth, the other a dark
blue. These, also, so similar was he in figure to Maurice, fitted
him equally well. The clothes which he brought with from form
Granton were not only of coarse material but were far from stylish
in cut, whereas these garments had been made by a fashionable Boston
tailor and set off his figure to much greater advantage.

"I wonder what Luke Harrison will say?" said our hero to himself,
smiling, as he thought of the surprise of Luke at witnessing his
transformation.

"I've a great mind to keep these on to-night," he said.

"Perhaps I shall meet Luke. He won't have anything more to say
about my going without an overcoat."

After supper Harry, arrayed in his best suit and wearing the
overcoat, walked down tot he center of the village.

Luke was standing on the piazza of the tavern.

"Luke, see how Walton is dressed up!" exclaimed Frank Heath, who
was the first to see our hero.

"Dressed up!" repeated Luke, who was rather shortsighted. "That
would be a good joke."

"He's got a splendid overcoat," continued Frank.

"Where'd he get it? Merrill hasn't been making him one."

"It's none of Merrill's work. It's too stylish for him."

By this time Harry had come within Luke's range of vision. The
latter surveyed him with astonishment and it must be confessed,
with disappointment; for he had been fond of sneering at Harry's
clothes, and now the latter was far better dressed than himself.

"Where did you get that coat, Walton?" asked Luke, the instant
Harry came up.

"Honestly," said Harry, shortly.

"Have you got anything else new?"

Harry opened his coat and displayed the suit.

"Well, you are coming out, Walton, that's a fact," said Frank Heath.
"That's a splendid suit."

"I thought you couldn't afford to buy a coat," said Luke.

"You see I've got one," answered Harry.

"How much did it cost?"

"That's a secret."

Here he left Luke and Frank.

"Well, Luke, what do you say to that?" said Frank Heath.

Luke said nothing. He was astonished and unhappy. He had a fondness
for dress and spent a good share of his earnings upon it, paying
where he must, and getting credit besides where he could. But he
had never had so stylish a suit as this and it depressed him.

CHAPTER XVI

ASKING A FAVOR

There was one other tailor in the village, James Hayden, and to
him Luke Harrison determined to transfer his custom, hoping to be
allowed to run up a bill with him. He did not like his style of cut
as well as Merrill's, but from the latter he was cut off unless he
would pay the old bill, and this would be inconvenient.

He strolled into James Hayden's shop and asked to look at some
cloth for pants.

Hayden was a shrewd man and, knowing that Luke was a customer of
his neighbor, suspected the reason of his transfer. However, he
showed the cloth, and, a selection having been made, measured him.

"When will you have them done?" asked Luke.

"In three days."

"I want them by that time sure."

"Of course you pay cash."

"Why," said Luke, hesitating, "I suppose you won't mind giving me
a month's credit."

Mr. Hayden shook his head.

"I couldn't do it. My goods are already paid for and I have to pay
for the work. I must have cash."

"Merrill always trusted me," pleaded Luke.

"Then why did you leave him?"

"Why," said Luke, a little taken aback, "he didn't cut the last
clothes exactly to suit me."

"Didn't suit you? I thought you young people preferred his cut to
mine. I am old-fashioned. Hadn't you better go back to Merrill?"

"I've got tired of him," said Luke. "I'll get a pair of pants of
you, and see how I like them."

"I'll make them but I can't trust."

"All right. I'll bring the money," said Luke, who yet thought that
he might get off by paying part down when he took the pants.

"The old fellow's deuced disobliging," said he o Frank Heath, when
they got into the street.

"I don't know as I blame him," said Frank.

"I wish Merrill wasn't so stiff about it. He's terribly afraid of
losing his bill."

"That's where he's right," said Frank, laughing. "I'd be the same
if I were in his place."

"Do you always pay your bills right off?" said Luke.

"Yes, I do. I don't pretend to be a model boy. I'm afraid I keep bad
company," he continued, "but I don't owe a cent to anybody except
for board and that I pay up at the end of every week."

Luke dropped the subject, not finding it to his taste.

On Saturday night he went round to the tailor's.

"Have you got my pants done, Mr. Hayden?"

"Yes--here they are."

"Let me see," he said, "how much are they?"

"Nine dollars."

"I'll pay you three dollars to-night and the rest at the end of
next week," he said.

"Very well; then you may have them at the end of next week."

"Why not now? They are done, ain't they?"

"Yes," said Mr. Hayden; "but not paid for."

"Didn't I tell you I'd pay three dollars now?"

"Our terms are cash down."

"You ain't afraid of me, are you?" blustered Luke.

"You understood when you ordered the pants that they were to be
paid for when they were taken."

"I hate to see people so afraid of losing their money."

"Do you? Was that why you left Merrill?"

Luke colored. He suspected that the fact of his unpaid bill at
the other tailor's was known to Mr. Hayden.

"I've a great mind to leave them on your hands."

"I prefer to keep them on my hands, rather than to let them go out
of the shop without being paid for."

"Frank," said Luke, turning to his companion, "lend me five dollars,
can't you?"

"I'm the wrong fellow to ask," said he; "I've got to pay my board
and another bill to-night."

"Oh, let your bills wait."

"And lend you the money? Thank you, I ain't so green. When should
I get the money again?"

"Next week."

"In a horn. No; I want to wear the pants to-morrow. I'm going
out to ride."

"I don't see, unless you fork over the spondulies."

"I can't. I haven't got enough money."

"See Harry Walton."

"I don't believe he has got any. He bought a lot of clothes last
week. They must have cost a pile."

"Can't help it. I saw him open his pocketbook last night and in
it was a roll of bills."

Turning to the tailor, Luke said: "Just lay aside the pants and
I'll come back for them pretty soon."

Mr. Hayden smiled to himself.

"There's nothing like fetching up these fellows with a round turn,"
he said. "'No money, no clothes'--that's my motto. Merrill told me
all about that little bill that sent Luke Harrison over here. He
don't run up any bill with me, if I know myself."

Luke went round to the village store. Harry Walton usually spent a
part of every evening in instructive reading and study; but after
a hard day's work he felt it necessary to pass an hour or so in
the open air, so he came down to the center of center of the village.

"Hello, Walton!" said Luke, accosting him with unusual cordiality.
"You are just the fellow I want to see."

"Am I?" inquired Harry in surprise, for there was no particular
friendship or intimacy between them.

"Yes; I'm going to ask a little favor of you--a mere trifle. Lend
me five or ten dollars for a week. Five will do it, you can't spare
more."

Harry shook his head.

"I can't do that, Luke."

"Why not? Haven't you got as much?"

"Yes, I've got it."

"Then why won't you lend it to me?"

"I have little money and I can't run any risk."

"Do you think I won't pay you back?"

"Why do you need to borrow of me? You get much higher wages than
I do."

"I want to pay a bill to-night. I didn't think you'd be so
unaccommodating."

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