Books: Helping Himself
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Horatio Alger >> Helping Himself
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"That is more than I expected," said Grant, joyfully. "It will pay
all our debts, and give us a little fund to help us in future."
"Do you wish the money now? There might be some risk in a boy like
you carrying so much with you."
"What would you advise, Mr. Clifton?"
"That you take perhaps a hundred dollars, and let me bring the
balance next Saturday night, when I come to pass Sunday at
Colebrook."
"Thank you, sir; if it won't be too much trouble for you."
CHAPTER VIII
GRANT TAKES A DECISIVE STEP
Grant came home a messenger of good tidings, as his beaming face
plainly showed. His mother could hardly believe in her good fortune,
when Grant informed her that he had sold the pearls for four hundred
dollars.
"Why, that will pay up all your father's debts," she said, "and we
shall once more feel independent."
"And with a good reserve fund besides," suggested Grant.
On Saturday evening he called on Mr. Clifton, and received the
balance of the purchase money. On Monday, with a little list of
creditors, and his pocket full of money, he made a round of calls,
and paid up everybody, including Mr. Tudor.
"I told you the bill would be paid, Mr. Tudor," he said, quietly, to
the grocer.
"You mustn't feel hard on me on account of my pressing you, Grant,"
said the grocer, well pleased, in a conciliatory tone. "You see, I
needed money to pay my bills."
"You seemed to think my father didn't mean to pay you," said Grant,
who could not so easily get over what he had considered unfriendly
conduct on the part of Mr. Tudor.
"No, I didn't. Of course I knew he was honest, but all the same I
needed the money. I wish all my customers was as honest as your
folks."
With this Grant thought it best to be contented. The time might come
again when they would require the forbearance of the grocer; but he
did not mean that it should be so if he could help it. For he was
more than ever resolved to give up the project of going to college.
The one hundred and fifty dollars which remained after paying the
debts would tide them over a year, but his college course would
occupy four; and then there would be three years more of study to
fit him for entering a profession, and so there would be plenty of
time for the old difficulties to return. If the parish would
increase kis father's salary by even a hundred dollars, they might
get along; but there was such a self-complacent feeling in the
village that Mr. Thornton was liberally paid, that he well knew
there was no chance of that.
Upon this subject he had more than one earnest conversation with his
mother.
"I should be sorry to have you leave home," she said; "but I
acknowledge the force of your reasons."
"I shouldn't be happy at college, mother," responded Grant, "if I
thought you were pinched at home."
"If you were our only child, Grant, it would be different."
"That is true; but there are Frank and Mary who would suffer. If I
go to work I shall soon be able to help you take care of them."
"You are a good and unselfish boy, Grant," said his mother.
"I don't know about that, mother; I am consulting my own happiness
as well as yours."
"Yet you would like to go to college?"
"If we had plenty of money, not otherwise. I don't want to enjoy
advantages at the expense of you all."
"Your Uncle Godfrey will be very angry," said Mrs. Thornton,
thoughtfully.
"I suppose he will, and I shall be sorry for it. I am grateful to
him for his good intentions toward me, and I have no right to expect
that he will feel as I do about the matter. If he is angry, I shall
be sorry, but I don't think it ought to influence me."
"You must do as you decide to be best, Grant. It is you who are most
interested. But suppose you make up your mind to enter upon a
business career, what chance have you of obtaining a place?"
"I shall call upon Mr. Reynolds, and see if he has any place for
me."
"Who is Mr. Reynolds?" asked his mother, in some surprise.
"I forgot that I didn't tell you of the gentleman whose acquaintance
I made on my way up to the city. He is a Wall Street broker. His
attention was drawn to me by something that he heard, and he offered
to help me, if he could, to get employment."
"It would cost something to go to New York, and after all there is
no certainty that he could help you," said Mrs. Thornton,
cautiously.
"That is true, mother, but I think he would do something for me."
However Grant received a summons to New York on other business. Mrs.
Simpson, as she called herself, though she had no right to the name,
was brought up for trial, and Grant was needed as a witness. Of
course his expenses were to be paid. He resolved to take this
opportunity to call at the office of Mr. Reynolds.
I do not propose to speak of Mrs. Simpson's trial. I will merely say
that she was found guilty of the charge upon which she had been
indicted, and was sentenced to a term of imprisonment.
When Grant was released from his duties as witness, he made his way
to Wall Street, or rather New Street, which branches out from the
great financial thoroughfare, and had no difficulty in finding the
office of Mr. Reynolds.
"Can I see Mr. Reynolds?" he asked of a young man, who was writing
at a desk.
"Have you come to deliver stock? If so, I will take charge of it."
"No," answered Grant; "I wish to see him personally."
"He is at the Stock Exchange just at present. If you will take a
seat, he will be back in twenty minutes, probably."
Grant sat down, and in less than the time mentioned, Mr. Reynolds
entered the office. The broker, who had a good memory for faces, at
once recognized our hero.
"Ha, my young friend from the country," he said; "would you like to
see me?"
"When you are at leisure, sir," answered Grant, well pleased at the
prompt recognition.
"You will not have to wait long. Amuse yourself as well as you can
for a few minutes."
Promptness was the rule in Mr. Reynolds' office. Another
characteristic of the broker was, that he was just as polite to a
boy as to his best customer. This is, I am quite aware, an unusual
trait, and, therefore, the more to be appreciated when we meet with
it.
Presently Mr. Reynolds appeared at the door of his inner office, and
beckoned to Grant to enter.
"Take a seat, my young friend," he said; "and now let me know what I
can do for you."
"When I met you in the cars," said Grant, "you invited me, if I ever
wanted a position, to call upon you, and you would see if you could
help me."
"Very true, I did. Have you made up your mind to seek a place?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are your parents willing you should come to New York?"
"Yes, sir. That is, my mother is willing, and my father will agree
to whatever she decides to be best."
"So far so good. I wouldn't engage any boy who came against his
parents' wishes. Now let me tell you that you have come at a very
favorable time. I have had in my employ for two years the son of an
old friend, who has suited me in every respect; but now he is to go
abroad with his father for a year, and I must supply his place. You
shall have the place if you want it."
"Nothing would suit me better," said Grant, joyfully. "Do you think
I would be competent to fulfill the duties?"
"Harry Becker does not leave me for two weeks. He will initiate you
into your duties, and if you are as quick as I think you are at
learning, that will be sufficient."
"When shall I come, sir?"
"Next Monday morning. It is now Thursday, and that will give you
time to remove to the city."
"Perhaps I had better come Saturday, so as to get settled in a
boarding-house before going to work. Could you recommend some
moderate priced boarding-house, Mr. Reynolds?"
"For the first week you may come to my house as my guest. That will
give you a chance to look about you. I live at 58 West 3-th Street.
You had better take it down on paper. You can come any time on
Monday. That will give you a chance to spend Sunday at home, and you
need not go to work till Tuesday."
Grant expressed his gratitude in suitable terms, and left the office
elated at his good fortune. A surprise awaited him. At the junction
of Wall and New Streets he came suddenly upon a large-sized
bootblack, whose face looked familiar.
"Tom Calder!" he exclaimed. "Is that you?"
CHAPTER IX
'UNCLE GODFREY PARTS FROM GRANT
When Tom Calder turned round and saw who had addressed him, he
turned red with mortification, and he tried to hide his blacking
box. He was terribly mortified to have it known that he had been
forced into such a business. If Tom had nothing worse to be ashamed
of he need not have blushed, but he was suffering from false shame.
"When did you come to the city?" he stammered.
"Only this morning."
"I suppose you are surprised to see me in this business," said Tom,
awkwardly.
"There is nothing to be ashamed of," said Grant. "It is an honest
business."
"It's an awful come down for me," said Tom, uncomfortably. "The fact
is, I've had hard luck."
"I am sorry to hear that," said Grant.
"I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and
things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money."
"How much?" asked Grant, curiously, for he didn't believe a word of
it.
"Eight dollars and thirty-three cents," replied Tom, glibly.
"I thought you were too smart to be robbed," said Grant, slyly. "If
it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn't
have been surprising."
"I was asleep when I was robbed," explained Tom, hurriedly. "A
fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I
couldn't help that, now, could I?"
"I suppose not."
"So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say,
Grant---"
"Well?"
"Don't you tell any of the fellers at home what business I'm in,
that's a good fellow."
"I won't if you don't want me to," said Grant.
"You see, it's only a few days till I can get something else to do."
"It's a great deal better blacking boots than being idle, in my
opinion," said Grant.
"That's the way I look at it. But you didn't tell me what you came
to the city for?"
"I'm coming here for good," announced Grant.
"You haven't got a place, have you?" ejaculated Tom, in surprise.
"Yes, I am to enter the office of Mr. Reynolds, a stock broker.
There is his sign."
"You don't say so I. Why, that's just the sort of place I wanted.
How did you get the chance?"
"I got acquainted with Mr. Reynolds on board the cars that day we
came to New York together."
"And you asked him for the place?"
"I asked him this morning."
"You might have given me the chance," grumbled Tom, enviously. "You
knew it was the sort of place I was after."
"I don't think I was called upon to do that," said Grant, smiling.
"Besides, he wouldn't have accepted you."
"Why not? Ain't I as smart as you, I'd like to know?" retorted Tom
Calder, angrily.
"He heard us talking in the cars, and didn't like what you said."
"What did I say?"
"He doesn't approve of boys smoking cigarettes and going to bucket
shops. You spoke of both."
"How did he hear?"
"He was sitting just behind us."
"Was it that old chap that was sittin' with you when I came back
from the smoking car?"
"Yes."
"Just my luck," said Tom, ruefully.
"When are you goin' to work?" asked Tom, after a pause.
"Next Monday."
"Where are you going to board? We might take a room together, you
know. It would be kind of social, as we both come from the same
place."
It did not occur to Grant that the arrangement would suit him at
all, but he did not think it necessary to say so. He only said: "I
am going to Mr. Reynolds' house, just at first."
"You don't say so! Why, he's taken a regular fancy to you."
"If he has, I hope he won't get over it."
"I suppose he lives in a handsome brownstone house uptown."
"Very likely; I've never seen the house."
"Well, some folks has luck, but I ain't one of 'em," grumbled Tom.
"Your luck is coming, I hope, Tom."
"I wish it would come pretty soon, then; I say, suppose your folks
won't let you take the place?" he asked, suddenly, brightening up.
"They won't oppose it." "I thought they wanted you to go to
college."
"I can't afford it. It would take too long before I could earn
anything, and I ought to be helping the family."
"I'm goin' to look out for number one," said Tom, shrugging his
shoulders. "That's all I can do."
Tom's mother was a hard-working woman, and had taken in washing for
years. But for her the family would often have lacked for food. His
father was a lazy, intemperate man, who had no pride of manhood, and
cared only for himself. In this respect Tom was like him, though the
son had not as yet become intemperate.
"I don't think there is any chance of my giving up the place,"
answered Grant. "If I do, I will mention your name."
"That's a good fellow."
Grant did not volunteer to recommend Tom, for he could not have done
so with a clear conscience. This omission, however, Tom did not
notice.
"Well, Tom, I must be going. Good-by, and good luck."
Grant went home with a cheerful face, and announced his good luck to
his mother.
"I am glad you are going to your employer's house," she said. "I
wish you could remain there permanently."
"So do I, mother; but I hope at any rate to get a comfortable
boarding place. Tom Calder wants to room with me."
"I hope you won't think of it," said Mrs. Thornton, alarmed.
"Not for a moment. I wish Tom well, but I shouldn't like to be too
intimate with him. And now, mother, I think I ought to write to
Uncle Godfrey, and tell him what I have decided upon."
"That will be proper, Grant." Grant wrote the following letter, and
mailed it at once:
"DEAR UNCLE GODFREY:
I am afraid you won't like what I have to tell you, but I think it
is my duty to the family to give up the college course you so kindly
offered me, in view of father's small salary and narrow means. I
have been offered a place in the office of a stock broker in New
York, and have accepted it. I enter upon my duties next Monday
morning. I hope to come near paying my own way, and before very long
to help father. I know you will be disappointed, Uncle Godfrey, and
I hope you won't think I don't appreciate your kind offer, but I
think it would be selfish in me to accept it. Please do forgive me,
and believe me to be
Your affectionate nephew, GRANT THORNTON."
In twenty-four hours an answer came to this letter. It ran thus:
"NEPHEW GRANT:
I would not have believed you would act so foolishly and
ungratefully. It is not often that such an offer as mine is made to
a boy. I did think you were sensible enough to understand the
advantages of a professional education. I hoped you would do credit
to the name of Thornton, and keep up the family reputation as a man
of learning and a gentleman. But you have a foolish fancy for going
into a broker's office, and I suppose you must be gratified. But you
needn't think I will renew my offer. I wash my hands of you from
this time forth, and leave you to your own foolish course. The time
will come when you will see your folly.
GODFREY THORNTON."
Grant sighed as he finished reading this missive. He felt that his
uncle had done him injustice. It was no foolish fancy, but a
conscientious sense of duty, which had led him to sacrifice his
educational prospects.
On Monday morning he took the earliest train for New York.
CHAPTER X
A DAY IN WALL STREET
Grant went at once on his arrival in the city to Mr. Reynolds'
office. He had in his hand a well-worn valise containing his small
stock of clothing. The broker was just leaving the office for the
Stock Exchange as Grant entered.
"So you are punctual," he said, smiling.
"Yes, sir, I always on time."
"That is an excellent habit. Here, Harry."
In answer to this summons, Harry Becker, a boy two years older and
correspondingly larger than Grant, came forward. He was a
pleasant-looking boy, and surveyed Grant with a friendly glance.
"Harry," said Mr. Reynolds, "this is your successor. Do me the favor
of initiating him into his duties, so that when you leave me he will
be qualified to take your place."
"All right, sir."
The broker hurried over to the Exchange, and the two boys were left
together.
"What is your name?" asked the city boy.
"Grant Thornton."
"Mine is Harry Becker. Are you accustomed to the city?"
"No, I am afraid you will find me very green," answered Grant.
"You are not the boy to remain so long," said Harry, scrutinizing
him attentively.
"I hope not. You are going to Europe, Mr. Reynolds tells me."
"Yes, the governor is going to take me."
"The governor?"
"My father, I mean," said Harry, smiling.
"I suppose you are not sorry to go?"
"Oh, no; I expect to have a tip-top time. How would you like it?"
"Very much, if I could afford it, but at present I would rather fill
your place in the office. I am the son of a poor country minister,
and must earn my own living."
"How did you get in with Mr. Reynolds?" asked Harry.
Grant told him. "Is he easy to get along with?" he inquired, a
little anxiously.
"He is very kind and considerate. Still he is stanch, and expects a
boy to serve him faithfully."
"He has a right to expect that."
"As I am to break you in, you had better go about with me
everywhere. First, we will go to the post-office."
The two boys walked to Nassau Street, where the New York post-office
was then located. Harry pointed out the box belonging to the firm,
and producing a key opened it, and took out half a dozen letters.
"There may be some stock orders in these letters," he said; "we will
go back to the office, give them to Mr. Clark to open, and then you
can go with me to the Stock Exchange."
Ten minutes later they entered the large room used by the brokers as
an Exchange. Grant looked about him in undisguised astonishment. It
seemed like a pandemonium. The room was full of men, shouting,
gesticulating and acting like crazy men. The floor was littered with
fragments of paper, and on a raised dais were the officers of the
Exchange, the chief among them, the chairman, calling rapidly the
names of a long list of stocks. Each name was followed by a confused
shouting, which Grant learned afterward to be bids for the stock
named. There were several groups of brokers, each apparently
interested in some leading security. In each of the galleries, one
at each end, overlooking the stock room, curious spectators were
watching what was going on.
Harry Decker was amused at Grant's look of surprise and
bewilderment.
"You'll get used to it in time," he said. "Say--there is Mr.
Reynolds. I must speak to him."
Mr. Reynolds stood near a placard on which, in prominent letters,
was inscribed "Erie." Harry handed him a paper, which he took,
glanced at quickly, and then resumed his bidding.
"He has just bought one thousand Erie," said Harry, aside, to Grant.
"One thousand?"
"Yes, a thousand shares, at fifty-five."
"Fifty-five dollars?"
"Yes."
"Why, that will make fifty-five thousand dollars," ejaculated Grant,
in wonder.
"Yes, that is one of the orders I brought over just now."
"A man must have a great deal of capital to carry on this business,
if that is only an item of a single day's business."
"Yes, but not so much as you may imagine. I can't explain now, but
you'll understand better as you go on. Now we'll go back and see if
there's anything to do in the office."
Not long afterward Harry had to come back to the Exchange again, and
Grant came with him. He found something new to surprise him.
A tall man of dignified presence was walking across the floor, when
a fellow member with a sly stroke sent his tall hat spinning across
the floor. When the victim turned the mischief-maker was intent upon
his memorandum book, and the tall man's suspicions fell upon a
short, stout young man beside him. With a vigorous sweep he knocked
the young man's hat off, saying, "It's a poor rule that don't work
both ways."
This led to a little scrimmage, in which a dozen were involved. The
brokers, staid, middle-aged men, most of them, seemed like a pack of
school boys at recess. Grant surveyed the scene with undisguised
astonishment.
"What does it mean, Harry?" he asked.
"Oh, that's a very common occurrence," said Harry, smiling.
"I never saw grown men acting so. Won't there be a fight?"
"Oh, it's all fun. The brokers are unlike any other class of men in
business hours," explained Harry. "It's one of the customs of the
place."
Just then, to his astonishment, Grant saw his employer, Mr.
Reynolds, pursuing his hat, which was rolling over the floor. He was
about to run to his assistance, but Harry stopped him.
"No interference is allowed," he said. "Leave them to their fun. I
used to think it strange myself, when I first came into the
Exchange, but I'm used to it now. Now we may as well go back to the
office."
There is no occasion to follow the boys through the day's routine.
Grant found his companion very obliging, and very ready to give him
the information he needed. Many boys would have been supercilious
and perhaps been disposed to play tricks on a country boy, but Harry
was not one of them. He took a friendly interest in Grant, answered
all his questions, and did his best to qualify him for the position
he was to assume.
Before the office closed, Grant and his new friend went to the bank
to make a deposit of money and checks. The deposit amounted to about
twenty thousand dollars.
"There must be plenty of money in New York," said Grant. "Why, up in
Colebrook, if a man were worth twenty thousand dollars he would be
considered a rich man."
"It takes a good deal more than that to make a man rich in New York.
In the stock business a man is likely to do a larger business in
proportion to his capital than in the mercantile business."
On their way back from the bank, Grant came face to face with Tom
Calder. Tom was busily engaged in talking to a companion, some years
older than himself, and didn't observe Grant. Grant was by no means
prepossessed in favor of this young man, whose red and mottled face,
and bold glance made him look far from respectable.
"Do you know those fellows?" asked Harry Becker.
"The youngest one is from Colebrook."
"He is in bad company. I hope he is not an intimate friend of
yours?"
"Far from it. Still, I know him, and am sorry to see him with such a
companion."
At four o'clock Mr. Reynolds proposed to go home. He beckoned to
Grant to accompany him.
CHAPTER XI
GRANT MAKES A FRIEND
"What do you think of your first day in Wall Street?" asked Mr.
Reynolds, kindly.
"I have found it very interesting," answered Grant.
"Do you think you shall like the business?"
"Yes, sir, I think so."
"Better than if you had been able to carry out your original plan,
and go to college?"
"Yes, sir, under the circumstances, for I have a better prospect of
helping the family."
"That feeling does you credit. Have you any brothers and sisters?"
"One of each, sir."
"I have but one boy, now nine years old. I am sorry to say he is not
strong in body, though very bright and quick, mentally. I wish he
were more fond of play and would spend less time in reading and
study."
"I don't think that is a common complaint among boys, sir."
"No, I judge not from my own remembrance and observation. My wife is
dead, and I am such a busy man that I am not able to give my boy as
much attention as I wish I could. My boy's health is the more
important to me because I have no other child."
Grant's interest was excited, and he looked forward to meeting his
employer's son, not without eagerness. He had not long to wait.
The little fellow was in the street in front of the house when his
father reached home. He was a slender, old-fashioned boy in
appearance, who looked as if he had been in the habit of keeping
company with grown people. His frame was small, but his head was
large. He was pale, and would have been plain, but for a pair of
large, dark eyes, lighting up his face.
"Welcome home, papa," he said, running up to meet Mr. Reynolds.
The broker stooped over and kissed his son. Then he said: "I have
brought you some company, Herbert. This is Grant Thornton, the boy I
spoke to you about."
"I am glad to make your acquaintance," said the boy, with
old-fashioned courtesy, offering his hand.
"And I am glad to meet you, Herbert," responded Grant, pleasantly.
The little boy looked up earnestly in the face of his father's
office boy.
"I think I shall like you," he said.
Mr. Reynolds looked pleased, and so did Grant.
"I am sure we shall be very good friends," said our hero.
"Herbert," said his father, "will you show Grant the room he is to
occupy?"
"It is next to mine, isn't it, papa?"
"Yes, my son."
"Come with me," said Herbert, putting his hand in Grant's. "I will
show you the way."
Grant, who was only accustomed to the plain homes in his native
village, was impressed by the evidence of wealth and luxury
observable in the house of the stock broker. The room assigned to
him was small, but it was very handsomely furnished, and he almost
felt out of place in it. But it was not many days, to anticipate
matters a little, before he felt at home.
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