Jr. Horatio Alger

“ Thus adjured, Sam made a virtue of necessity, and, shutting his eyes, gulped down the wormwood. He shuddered slightly when it was all done, and his face was a study.
"Well done!" said Mrs. Hopkins. "It's sure to do you good."
"I think I'd have got well without," said Sam. "I'm afraid it won't agree with me."
"If it don't," said Mrs. Hopkins, cheerfully, "I'll try some castor-oil."
"I guess I won't need it," said Sam, hastily.
"It was awful," said Sam to himself, as his nurse left him alone. "I'd rather hoe potatoes than take it again. I never see such a terrible old woman. ”

“ Don't you know it is wicked to lie?"
"A feller can't tell the truth all the time," said Sam, as if he were stating a well-known fact.
"Certainly he can," said the deacon. "I always do."
"Do you?" inquired Sam, regarding the old man with curiosity.
"Of course. It is every one's duty to tell the truth. You ought to die rather than tell a lie. I have read of a man who was threatened with death. ”

“ He looked around for the boy who had guided him to a restaurant, but could not find him.
It was now eight o'clock, and he begun to think he should have to go back to the hotel after all, when a shabby-looking man, with watery eyes and a red nose, accosted him.
"Are you a stranger in the city, my young friend?" he asked.
"Yes," said Sam, rather relieved at the opportunity of speaking to somebody.
"So I thought. Where are you boarding?"
"Nowhere," said Sam.
"Where do you sleep to-night?"
"I don't know," said Sam, rather helplessly.
"Why don't you go to a hotel?" ”

“ Sam did not retain his new position long. A week later he was dismissed. Though no reason was assigned, the proprietor probably thought it better to engage a boy with a smaller appetite. But Sam was by no means discouraged. He was more self-reliant than when nearly a year before he entered the city, and more confident of rubbing along somehow. If he could not sell papers, he could black boots. If wholly without capital, he could haunt the neighborhood of the piers, and seek employment as a baggage-smasher. ”

“ But all at once he turned pale, and drew the cigar from his mouth.
"What's the matter?" asked Brown, demurely.
"I—don't—know," gasped Sam, his eyes rolling; "I—feel—sick."
"Do you? Don't mind it; it'll pass off."
"I think I'm going to die," said Sam, in a hollow voice. "Does smoking ever kill people?"
"Not often," said Brown, soothingly.
"I think it's goin' to kill me," said Sam, mournfully.
"Lie down on the bench. You'll feel better soon."
Sam lay down on his back, and again he wished himself safely back at the deacon's. New York seemed to him a very dreadful place. ”

“ Sam walked slowly out of the hotel, quite uncertain where to go, or what to do. He had money enough to pay for a night's lodging, even at this high price, but he judged wisely that he could not afford to spend so large a part of his small stock of money.
"I wonder where the boys sleep that black boots," he thought. "They can't pay a dollar a night for sleeping." ”

“ You're a gentleman," said Sam. "You wouldn't cheat a poor boy that hasn't had any breakfast this mornin'."
"Dear me! you don't say so?" ejaculated the compassionate stranger, shocked at Sam's fiction. "Here, take this twenty-five cents. Do you often have to go without your breakfast?"
"Often, sir," said Sam, unblushingly. "It's hard times for poor boys like me." ”

“ Let me see—here's buckwheat cakes, ten cents. I guess I'll have some."
"Anything more, sir?" asked the waiter, approaching to clear away the dirty dishes.
"Buckwheat cakes, and another cup of coffee," ordered Sam.
"All right, sir."
"They treat me respectful, here," thought Sam. "What would the deacon say to hear me called sir? I like it. Folks have better manners in the city than in the country." ”

“ Sam found himself penniless in a great city, and with no way open, that he could think of, to earn money. Even the business of the boot-black, humble as it is, required a small capital to buy a brush and box of blacking. So, too, a newsboy must pay for his papers when he gets them, unless he is well known. So Sam, sitting on the door-step, felt that he was in a tight place. Where was he to get his dinner from? ”

“ A kind man gave me a night's lodging, just as I offer one to you, and I determined that I would do the same by others when I had a chance."
"You are very kind," said Sam.
"Perhaps you won't say so when you see my room," said the other. "I am not a rich man."
Glancing at the man's attire, Sam found no difficulty in believing him. Our hero, though not very observing, was not prepossessed in favor of the New York tailors by what he saw, for the stranger's coat was very long, while his pants were very short, and his vest was considerably too large for him. ”

“ Again, he felt sleepy, and the bed looked very inviting.
"I'll wait till mornin'," thought Sam. "I'll start about four, and go over to Wendell, and take the train for New York. I'll be awful hungry when I get there. I wish I could wait till after breakfast; but it won't do."
Sam was not usually awake at four. Indeed he generally depended on being waked up by the deacon knocking on his door. But when boys or men have some pleasure in view it is apt to act upon the mind even when wrapped in slumber, and produce wakefulness. So Sam woke up about quarter of four. ”

“ There are few boys who do not enjoy a trip on the railroad, especially for the first time. The five hours which Sam spent on his journey gave him unqualified delight. Occasionally his attention was called off from the scenery by an exclamation from the old lady, who at every jolt thought the cars were off the track.
Sam liberally patronized the apple and peanut merchant, who about once an hour walked through the cars. The crackers which he had purchased at the grocery store had not spoiled his appetite, but rather appeared to sharpen it. ”

“ Then she bethought herself of Sam.
"How can I thank you," she said gratefully, "for bringing my darling home?"
"Oh, it's nothing," said Sam. "I was afraid at first I couldn't find where he lived; but he told me his name, and I looked in the directory."
Mrs. Dalton saw that Sam was ragged, and her grateful heart prompted her to do something for him.
"Have you any place?" she asked.
"No," said Sam.
"Wouldn't you like one?"
"Yes, I should," said Sam, promptly. "It's hard work getting a living about the streets."
"It must be," said the lady, with sympathy. "Have you no friends?" ”

“ With Jim's assistance Sam made his way to Fulton Ferry, but instead of going over in the next boat he leaned back in his seat in the waiting-room, and rested. Jim walked about on the pier, his hands in his pocket, with an independent air. He felt happy and prosperous. Never before in his life, probably, had he had so much money in his possession. Some men with a hundred thousand dollars would have felt poorer than Jim with nine dollars and a half.
By and by Sam felt enough better to start on his homeward journey. Jim agreed to accompany him as far as the New York side. ”

“ When I'm a man I'll work only when I want to."
Sam did not consider that there might be some difficulty in earning a living unless he were willing to work for it. The present discomfort was all he thought of.
At last, much to Sam's joy, the deacon gave the signal to return to the house.
"If you hadn't been sick, we'd have got through more," he said; "but to-morrow we must make up for lost time."
"I hope it'll rain to-morrow," thought Sam. "We can't work in the rain."
At supper the wormwood seemed to give him additional appetite. ”

“ It's awful tiresome."
"What's the use of hoein' potatoes?" he asked, after a while. "Won't they grow just as well without it?"
"No," said the deacon.
"I don't see why not."
"They need to have the earth loosened around them, and heaped up where it's fallen away."
"It's a lot of trouble," said Sam.
"We must all work," said the deacon, sententiously.
"I wish potatoes growed on trees like apples," said Sam. "They wouldn't be no trouble then."
"You mustn't question the Almighty's doin's, Samuel," said the deacon, seriously. "Whatever he does is right." ”

“ Hopkins, Sam failed to produce a favorable impression upon her. He was by no means her ideal of a boy, though it must be added that this ideal was so high that few living boys could expect to attain it. He must have an old head on young shoulders, and in fact be an angel in all respects except the wings. On these Mrs. Hopkins probably would not insist. Being only a boy, and considerably lazier and more mischievous than the average, there was not much prospect of Sam's satisfying her requirements.
"You'd better send him to the poorhouse, deacon." ”

“ I wish I had seven dollars to lend you."
"I wish you had," muttered Sam. "I can't get along without money."
"Did you have any breakfast?"
"Yes."
Sam did not furnish particulars, not liking to acknowledge the treatment he had received.
"Oh, you'll get along," said Brown, cheerfully. "Come and lodge with me again to-night."
"I don't know but what I will," said Sam, reflecting that he had no money to lose now, as he intended to spend all he had for dinner.
"Sit down and let us have a friendly chat," said Clarence Brown. "Won't you have a cigar? I've got an extra one." ”

“ I don't want to talk against him, but I hope you'll grow up a very different man. Do you think you will like to live with me?"
"I guess so," said Sam. "You live in a good house, where the rain don't leak through the roof on your head. You'll give me lots to eat, too; won't you?"
"You shall have enough," said the deacon, cautiously, "but it is bad to over-eat. Boys ought to be moderate."
"I didn't over-eat to home," said Sam. ”

“ He that will not work shall not eat."
"I worked hard enough afterwards," muttered Sam.
"After I came back—yes, I know that. You worked well part of the time, so I gave you part of your dinner. Next time let the cats alone."
"Can I have some more meat, then?" asked Sam.
"Ye-es," said the deacon, hesitating. "You need strength to work this afternoon."
"I s'pose I get that catechism this afternoon instead of goin to work," suggested Sam.
"That will do after supper, Samuel. All things in their place. The afternoon is for work; the evening for readin' and study, and improvin' the mind." ”

“ Hopkins called sharply up the attic stairs, "Come down, you Sam!"
"All right, ma'am, I'm comin'," said Sam, who judged rightly that breakfast was ready.
"We shan't often let you sleep so late," said Mrs. Hopkins, who sat behind the waiter. "We were broken of our rest through your cutting up last night, and so we overslept ourselves."
"It's pretty early," said Sam.
"We'd ought to have been at work in the field an hour ago," said the deacon.
At the table Sam found work that suited him better.
"You've got a good appetite," said Mrs. Hopkins, as Sam took the seventh slice of bread. ”

“ They can't afford to pay much."
The tea made his head feel better; and, though he was penniless, he began to feel more cheerful than an hour before.
He wandered about till he got tired, leaning against a building sometimes. He began to feel lonely. He knew nobody in the great city except Clarence Brown, whom he did not care to meet again, and the boot-black whose acquaintance he had made the day before.
"I wish I had some other boy with me," thought Sam; "somebody I knew. It's awful lonesome." ”

“ However, he felt instinctively that it would do no good to argue the matter at present, and he followed the deacon, upstairs in silence. He was ushered into a small room partitioned off from the attic.
"You'll sleep there," said the deacon, pointing to a cot-bed in the corner. "I'll call you at five o'clock to-morrow mornin'."
Sam undressed himself, and got into bed.
"This is jolly," thought he; "a good deal better than at home. If it warn't for that plaguey catechism, I'd like livin' here fust-rate. I wish I had another piece of that pie." ”

“ So, on the day after the funeral, Sam found himself a candidate for the poorhouse. He was a stout boy of twelve, strong and sturdy in spite of insufficient food, and certainly had suffered nothing from luxurious living.
It was a country town in Connecticut, near the Rhode Island border. We will call it Dudley. The selectmen deliberated what should be done with Sam.
"There isn't much for a lad like him to do at the poorhouse," said Major Stebbins. "He'd ought to be set to work. Why don't you take him, Deacon Hopkins?"
"I do need a boy," said the deacon, "but I'm most afeard to take Sam. ”

“ So Sam told the story of his adventures with Clarence Brown. Tim listened attentively.
"He was smart, he was," said Tim, approvingly.
"He's a rascal," said Sam, hotly, who did not relish hearing his spoiler praised.
"Course he is, but he's smart too. You might a knowed he'd do it."
"How should I know? I thought he was a kind man, that wanted to do me a favor."
Tim burst out laughing.
"Aint you green, though?" he remarked. "Oh my eye, but you're jolly green."
"Am I?" said Sam, rather offended. "Is everybody a thief in New York?" ”

“ I ought not to have told anybody."
"Sit down, and tell me all about it, or it will be the worse for you," said the doctor.
"Now for it!" thought Sam.
"You see, sir," he commenced, "I was in the horse-cars in Brooklyn, when I saw a boy I knew. We got to talking, and, before I knew it, I told him that I was carryin' a letter with money in it. I took it out of my coat-pocket, and showed it to him."
"You had no business to do it," said Dr. Graham. "No one but a fool would show a money-letter. So the boy stole it, did he?"
"Oh, no," said Sam, hastily. "It wasn't he." ”

“ Still you are large of your age."
"I am pretty strong," said Sam, anxious to succeed in his application.
"There isn't any work to be done that requires strength," said the black-whiskered man. "How is your education?"
"Pretty good," said Sam, with hesitation.
"Do you live in the city?"
"Yes, sir."
"With your parents?"
"No, sir. They are dead."
"That is an objection. Perhaps, however, you live with an aunt or uncle. That will answer as well."
"Yes," said Sam, determined to obviate this objection. "I live with my uncle."
"Where does he live?"
"In New York," answered Sam. ”