Jr. Horatio Alger

“ Mudge.
This lady, after standing a moment as if defying the twain to a further contest, went out, slamming the door violently after her.
“You did wrong to provoke her, Paul,” said Aunt Lucy, gravely.
“How could I help it?” asked Paul, earnestly. “If she had only abused ME, I should not have cared so much, but when she spoke about you, who have been so kind to me, I could not be silent.”
“I thank you, Paul, for your kind feeling,” said the old lady, gently, “but we must learn to bear and forbear. The best of us have our faults and failings.” ”

“ She would not for the world have dimmed the brightness of his anticipations by the expression of a single doubt.
“I wish you all success, Paul, and I thank you for wishing me to share in your good fortune. God helps those who help themselves, and he will help you if you only deserve it. I shall miss you very much when you are gone. It will seem more lonely than ever.”
“If it were not for you, Aunt Lucy, I should not mind going at all, but I shall be sorry to leave you behind.” ”

“ He who follows the path of duty steadfastly, cannot be wholly miserable, whatever misfortunes may come upon him. He will be sustained by the conviction that his own errors have not brought them upon him.”
“I will try to do right,” said Paul, placing his hand in that of his companion, “and if ever I am tempted to do wrong, I will think of you and of my mother, and that thought shall restrain me.”
“It's time to go bed, folks,” proclaimed Mrs Mudge, appearing at the door. “I can't have you sitting up all night, as I've no doubt you'd like to do.” ”

“ But I am not sure whether he did not rejoice even more over the good fortune which had come to Aunt Lucy Lee, whose kindness to him, in his unfriended boyhood, he would ever hold in grateful remembrance. He enjoyed in anticipation the joy which he knew Aunt Lucy would feel when the change in her fortunes was communicated to her. He knew also how great would be the chagrin of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, when they found that the meek old lady whom they hated was about to be rescued from their clutches. On the whole, Paul felt that this was the happiest day of his life. ”

“ Her kindness had produced such an impression on him, that Mrs. Mudge, by her taunts, stirred up his indignation.
“She's no more of a trollop than you are,” said he, with spirit.
Mrs. Mudge whirled round at this unexpected attack, and shook her fist menacingly at Paul—
“So, you've put in your oar, you little jackanapes,” said she, “If you're well enough to be impudent you're well enough to go to work. You aint a goin' to lie here idle much longer, I can tell you. If you deceive Dr. Townsend, and make him believe you're sick, you can't deceive me. ”

“ Mudge, you always thought so much of me.”
Mr. Mudge coughed in some embarrassment, and not thinking of anything in particular to say, said nothing.
“I am going to take from you another of your boarders,” said Paul. “Can you spare Aunt Lucy?”
“For how long?” asked Mrs. Mudge.
“For all the time. She has just come into possession of a little property,—several hundred dollars a year,—and I have persuaded her to go to New York to board.”
“Is this true?” exclaimed Mrs. Mudge in astonishment.
“Yes,” said the old lady, “God has been bountiful to me when I least expected it.” ”

“ Cameron had other views for him.
“Are you fond of studying?” asked the sexton, as they were all three gathered in the little sitting room, an evening or two after Paul first came.
“Very much!” replied our hero.
“And would you like to go to school?”
“What, here in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, very much indeed.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, my lad. There is nothing like a good education. If I had a son of my own, I would rather leave him that than money, for while the last may be lost, the first never can be. ”

“ Aunt Lucy Lee, or plain Aunt Lucy, for in her present abode she had small use for her last name, was a benevolent-looking old lady, who both in dress and manners was distinguished from her companions. She rose from her knitting, and kindly took Paul by the hand. Children are instinctive readers of character, and Paul, after one glance at her benevolent face, seated himself contentedly beside her.
“I suppose,” said the old lady, socially, “you've come to live with us. We must do all we can to make you comfortable. Your name is Paul Prescott, I think Mrs. Mudge said.” ”

“ How dare you disobey my orders?”
“I have been robbed,” exclaimed the old lady in unwonted excitement.
“Of what, pray?” asked Mrs. Mudge, with a sneer.
“I had a gold eagle wrapped up in that paper,” returned Aunt Lucy, pointing to the fragments on the floor, “and now, to-night, when I come to open it, I find but this cent.”
“A likely story,” retorted Mrs. Mudge, “very likely, indeed, that a common pauper should have a gold eagle. If you found a cent in the paper, most likely that's what you put there. You're growing old and forgetful, so don't get foolish and flighty. ”

“ Besides, there was the legacy of debt which his father had bequeathed him. Never for a moment had Paul forgotten it. Never for a moment had he faltered in his determination to liquidate it at whatever sacrifice to himself.
“My father's name shall be cleared,” he said to himself, proudly. “Neither Squire Conant nor any one else shall have it in his power to cast reproach upon his memory.”
The sexton applauded his purpose.
“You are quite right, Paul,” he said. “But you need not feel in haste. Obtain your education first, and the money will come by-and-by. ”

“ He was very glad to meet his schoolmate and playfellow, Ben, who by his gayety, spiced though it was with roguery, had made himself a general favorite in school.
“I say, Paul,” said Ben, “I'm sorry to find you in such a place.”
“It isn't very pleasant,” said Paul, rather soberly.
“And that woman—Mrs. Mudge—she looks as if she might be a regular spitfire, isn't she?”
“Rather so.”
“I only wish the old gentleman—meaning of course, the Squire—would take you to live with me. I want a fellow to play with. But I say, Paul, go and get your hat, and we'll go out for a walk.” ”

“ George Dawkins resumed his duties the next morning as usual. Notwithstanding the crime he had committed to screen himself from the consequences of a lighter fault, he felt immeasurably relieved at the thought that he had shaken himself free from the clutches of Duval. His satisfaction was heightened by the disgrace and summary dismissal of Paul, whom he had never liked. He decided to ask the place for a cousin of his own, whose society would be more agreeable to him than that of his late associate. ”

“ Cameron, indignantly.
“Don't judge him too hastily; Aunt Hester, he may not be guilty, and I know from my own experience how hard it is to be accused when you are innocent.”
Soon after the sexton came in, and Paul of course, told his story over again.
“Never mind, Paul,” said Uncle Hugh, cheerily. “You know your own innocence; that is the main thing. It's a great thing to have a clear conscience.”
“But I liked Mr. Danforth and I think he liked me. It's hard to feel that he and Mrs. Danforth will both think me guilty, especially after the kindness which I have experienced from them.” ”

“ He wore a blue necktie, of large dimensions, fastened by an enormous breast-pin, which, in its already tarnished splendor, suggested strong doubts as to the apparent gold being genuine.
“There's the broom, Paul,” said Mr. Benton, assuming a graceful position on the counter.
“You'll have to sweep out; only look sharp about raising a dust, or Smith'll be into your wool.”
“What sort of a man is Mr. Smith?” asked Paul, with some curiosity.
“O, he's an out and outer. Sharp as a steel trap. He'll make you toe the mark.” ”

“ Brindle had not only escaped scot-free, but the broom, a new one, bought only the week before, was broken.
“It's a plaguy shame,” said Mrs. Mudge, angrily. “There's my best broom broken; cost forty-two cents only last week.”
She turned and contemplated the scene of devastation. This yielded her little consolation.
“At least thirty cabbages destroyed by that scamp of a cow,” she exclaimed in a tone bordering on despair. “I wish I'd a hit her. If I'd broken my broom over her back I wouldn't a cared so much. And it's all Mudge's fault. He's the most shiftless man I ever see. ”

“ Mudge was sitting in the kitchen of the Poorhouse, mending stockings. She was not in the pleasantest humor, for one of the paupers had managed to break a plate at tea-table (if that can be called tea where no tea is provided) , and trifles were sufficient to ruffle Mrs. Mudge's temper.
“Where's Mudge, I wonder?” she said, sharply; “over to the tavern, I s'pose, as usual. There never was such a shiftless, good-for-nothing man. I'd better have stayed unmarried all the days of my life than have married him. If he don't get in by ten, I'll lock the door, and it shall stay locked. ”

“ Aunt Lucy was wise enough to abstain from provoking further the wrath of her amiable landlady, and continued to eat her soup in silence. But Mrs. Mudge neer forgot this interference, nor the cause of it, and henceforth with the malignity of a narrow-minded and spiteful woman, did what she could to make Paul uncomfortable. Her fertile ingenuity always found some new taunt, or some new reproach, to assail him with. But Paul, though at first he felt indignant, learned at last to treat them as they deserved, with silent disdain. ”

“ Duval laughed scornfully, “Aha, Mr. Dawkins,” he said, “that would be a very pretty arrangement FOR YOU. But I don't see how it is going to benefit me. No, no, I can't afford to throw away a hundred and fifty dollars so easily. If I was a rich man like your father it would make a difference.”
“Then you won't remit the debt,” said Dawkins, sullenly.
“You would think me a great ninny, if I did.”
“Then you may collect it the best way you can.”
“What do you mean by that?” demanded the Frenchman, his face darkening. ”

“ Notwithstanding his singular bedchamber, Paul had a refreshing night's sleep from which he did not awake till the sun had fairly risen, and its rays colored by the medium through which they were reflected, streamed in at the windows and rested in many fantastic lines on the richly carved pulpit and luxurious pews.
Paul sprang to his feet and looked around him in bewilderment. ”

“ At the end of the first week, Paul received five dollars, the sum which the merchant had agreed to pay him for his services. With this he felt very rich. He hurried home, and displayed to the sexton the crisp bank note which had been given him.
“You will soon be a rich man, Paul,” said Mr. Cameron, with a benevolent smile, returning the bill.
“But I want you to keep it, Uncle Hugh.”
“Shall I put it in the Savings Bank, for you, Paul?”
“I didn't mean that. You have been supporting me—giving me board and clothes—for three years. It is only right that you should have what I earn.” ”

“ A spirited animal was brought out, and Paul was soon seated in the chaise driving along the Wrenville road. Paul's city friends would hardly have recognized their economical acquaintance in the well-dressed young man who now sat behind a fast horse, putting him through his best paces. It might have been a weakness in Paul, but he remembered the manner in which he left Wrenville, an unfriended boy, compelled to fly from persecution under the cover of darkness, and he felt a certain pride in showing the Mudges that his circumstances were now entirely changed. ”

“ XII. ON THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY.
“If you're in no great hurry to go to New York,” said the pedler, “I should like to have you stay with me for a day or two. I live about twenty-five miles from here, straight ahead, so it will be on your way. I always manage to get home by Saturday night if it is any way possible. It doesn't seem comfortable to be away Sunday. As to-day is Friday, I shall get there to-morrow. So you can lie over a day and rest yourself.”
Paul felt grateful for this unexpected invitation. ”

“ Mr. Mudge was accustomed to call Paul at five o'clock, to milk the cows and perform other chores. He himself did not rise till an hour later. During Paul's sickness, he was obliged to take his place,—a thing he did not relish overmuch. Now that our hero had recovered, he gladly prepared to indulge himself in an extra nap.
“Paul!” called Mr. Mudge from the bottom of the staircase leading up into the attic, “it's five o'clock; time you were downstairs.”
Mr. Mudge waited for an answer, but none came.
“Paul!” repeated Mr. Mudge in a louder tone, “it's time to get up; tumble out there.” ”

“ Master Benjamin, or Ben, as he was called everywhere except in his own family, had got possession of the black kitten, and appeared to be submerging her in the hogshead of rainwater.
“O, you wicked, cruel boy, to drown poor Kitty!” exclaimed the indignant Hannah, rushing into the yard and endeavoring to snatch her feline favorite—an attempt which Ben stoutly resisted.
Doubtless the poor kitten would have fared badly between the two, had not the window opened, and the deliberate voice of his father, called out in tones which Ben saw fit to heed. ”

“ Aunt Lucy was obliged to obey, at least while her persecutor was in the room. When alone for any length of time she took out Paul's stockings from under her apron, and worked on them till the approaching steps of Mrs. Mudge warned her to desist.
Three days passed. The shadows of twilight were already upon the earth. The paupers were collected in the common room appropriated to their use. Aunt Lucy had suspended her work in consequence of the darkness, for in this economical household a lamp was considered a useless piece of extravagance. ”

“ Yours, I admit is a heavy one for a boy to bear. But when men are unjust there is One above who will deal justly with us. You have not forgotten him.”
“No, Uncle Hugh,” said Paul, reverently.
“Trust in him, Paul, and all will come out right at last. He can prove your innocence, and you may be sure he will, in his own good time. ”

“ Paul followed the merchant into his office, the door of which was closed, much to the regret of Dawkins, who had a tolerably large share of curiosity, and was very anxious to find out what business Paul could possibly have with his employer.
“Take that seat, if you please;” said Mr. Danforth, motioning Paul to an arm-chair, and sitting down himself, “Mrs. Danforth told me from how great a peril you rescued her. You are a brave boy.” ”

“ The pedler himself was a man of perhaps forty, with a face in which shrewdness and good humor seemed alike indicated. Take him for all in all, you might travel some distance without falling in with a more complete specimen of the Yankee.
“So you came nigh losing your dinner,” he repeated, in a pleasant tone.
“Yes,” said Paul, “I got tired and fell asleep, and I don't know when I should have waked up but for your dog.”
“Yes, Boney's got a keen scent for provisions,” laughed the pedler. “He's a little graspin', like his namesake. You see his real name is Bonaparte ”