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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11111 ***
+
+              ONLY AN IRISH BOY
+          Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes
+                      by
+               Horatio Alger, Jr.
+
+ Author of "Paul the Peddler," "Phil the Fiddler,"
+      "Strive and Succeed," "Slow and Sure,"
+            "Try and Trust," etc.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+  Chapter
+        I.  ANDY BURKE
+       II.  A SKIRMISH
+      III.  ANDY AND HIS MOTHER
+       IV.  MRS. PRESTON
+        V.  A PROFITABLE JOB
+       VI.  THE TWO OLD MAIDS
+      VII.  ANDY OBTAINS A PLACE
+     VIII.  THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
+       IX.  WHAT FOLLOWED
+        X.  ANDY'S DEBUT AT SCHOOL
+       XI.  A GAME OF BALL
+      XII.  A LITTLE DIFFICULTY
+     XIII.  GODFREY'S REBELLION
+      XIV.  MR. STONE IS CALLED TO ACCOUNT
+       XV.  MRS. PRESTON'S DISCOMFITURE
+      XVI.  THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT
+     XVII.  INTRODUCES AN ADVENTURER
+    XVIII.  RIDING WITH A HIGHWAYMAN
+      XIX.  BAFFLED A ROBBER
+       XX.  HOW THE NEWS WAS RECEIVED
+      XXI.  A MODEL WIFE
+     XXII.  COLONEL PRESTON'S RECOVERY
+    XXIII.  MRS. BURKE HAS GOOD FORTUNE
+     XXIV.  ANDY'S JOURNEY
+      XXV.  THE MERCHANT FROM PORTLAND
+     XXVI.  SPINNING THE WEB
+    XXVII.  THE DROP GAME
+   XXVIII.  THE GUEST OF TWO HOTELS
+     XXIX.  A STARTLING EVENT
+      XXX.  COLONEL PRESTON'S WILL
+     XXXI.  MRS. PRESTON'S INTENTIONS
+    XXXII.  MRS. PRESTON'S REVENGE
+   XXXIII.  ANDY LOSES HIS PLACE
+    XXXIV.  THE WILL AT LAST
+     XXXV.  MRS. PRESTON IS UNPLEASANTLY SURPRISED
+    XXXVI.  ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+
+
+
+ONLY AN IRISH BOY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+ANDY BURKE
+
+
+"John, saddle my horse, and bring him around to the door."
+
+The speaker was a boy of fifteen, handsomely dressed, and, to judge
+from his air and tone, a person of considerable consequence, in his
+own opinion, at least. The person addressed was employed in the stable
+of his father, Colonel Anthony Preston, and so inferior in social
+condition that Master Godfrey always addressed him in imperious tones.
+
+John looked up and answered, respectfully:
+
+"Master Godfrey, your horse is sick of the disease, and your father
+left orders that he wasn't to go out on no account."
+
+"It's my horse," said Godfrey; "I intend to take him out."
+
+"Maybe it's yours, but your father paid for him."
+
+"None of your impudence, John," answered Godfrey, angrily. "Am I
+master, or are you, I should like to know!"
+
+"Neither, I'm thinking," said John, with a twinkle in his eye. "It's
+your father that's the master."
+
+"I'm master of the horse, anyway, so saddle him at once."
+
+"The colonel would blame me," objected John.
+
+"If you don't, I'll report you and get you dismissed."
+
+"I'll take the risk, Master Godfrey," said the servant,
+good-humoredly. "The colonel won't be so unreasonable as to send me
+away for obeying his own orders."
+
+Here John was right, and Godfrey knew it, and this vexed him the more.
+He had an inordinate opinion of himself and his own consequence, and
+felt humiliated at being disobeyed by a servant, without being able to
+punish him for his audacity. This feeling was increased by the
+presence of a third party, who was standing just outside the fence.
+
+As this third party is our hero, I must take a separate paragraph to
+describe him. He was about the age of Godfrey, possibly a little
+shorter and stouter. He had a freckled face, full of good humor, but
+at the same time resolute and determined. He appeared to be one who
+had a will of his own, but not inclined to interfere with others,
+though ready to stand up for his own rights. In dress he compared very
+unfavorably with the young aristocrat, who was biting his lips with
+vexation. In fact, though he is my hero, his dress was far from
+heroic. He had no vest, and his coat was ragged, as well as his pants.
+He had on a pair of shoes two or three times too large for him. They
+had not been made to order, but had been given him by a gentleman of
+nearly double his size, and fitted him too much. He wore a straw hat,
+for it was summer, but the brim was semi-detached, and a part of his
+brown hair found its way through it.
+
+Now Godfrey was just in the mood for picking a quarrel with somebody,
+and as there was no excuse for quarreling any further with John, he
+was rather glad to pitch into the young stranger.
+
+"Who are you?" he demanded, in his usual imperious tone, and with a
+contraction of the brow.
+
+"Only an Irish boy!" answered the other, with a droll look and a
+slight brogue.
+
+"Then what business have you leaning against my fence?" again demanded
+Godfrey, imperiously.
+
+"Shure, I didn't know it was your fence."
+
+"Then you know now. Quit leaning against it."
+
+"Why should I, now? I don't hurt it, do I?"
+
+"No matter--I told you to go away. We don't want any beggars here."
+
+"Shure, I don't see any," said the other boy, demurely.
+
+"What are you but a beggar?"
+
+"Shure, I'm a gintleman of indepindent fortune."
+
+"You look like it," said Godfrey, disdainfully. "Where do you keep
+it?"
+
+"Here!" said the Irish boy, tapping a bundle which he carried over his
+shoulder, wrapped in a red cotton handkerchief, with a stick thrust
+through beneath the knot.
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Andy Burke. What's yours?"
+
+"I don't feel under any obligations to answer your questions," said
+Godfrey, haughtily.
+
+"Don't you? Then what made you ask me?"
+
+"That's different. You are only an Irish boy."
+
+"And who are you?"
+
+"I am the only son of Colonel Anthony Preston," returned Godfrey,
+impressively.
+
+"Are you, now? I thought you was a royal duke, or maybe Queen
+Victoria's oldest boy."
+
+"Fellow, you are becoming impertinent."
+
+"Faith, I didn't mean it. You look so proud and gintale that it's jist
+a mistake I made."
+
+"You knew that we had no dukes in America," said Godfrey,
+suspiciously.
+
+"If we had, now, you'd be one of them," said Andy.
+
+"Why? What makes you say so?"
+
+"You're jist the picture of the Earl of Barleycorn's ildest son that I
+saw before I left Ireland."
+
+Godfrey possessed so large a share of ridiculous pride that he felt
+pleased with the compliment, though he was not clear about its
+sincerity.
+
+"Where do you live?" he asked, with a slight lowering of his tone.
+
+"Where do I live? Shure, I don't live anywhere now, but I'm going to
+live in the village. My mother came here a month ago."
+
+"Why didn't you come with her?"
+
+"I was workin' with a farmer, but the work gave out and I came home.
+Maybe I'll find work here."
+
+"I think I know where your mother lives," said John, who had heard the
+conversation. "She lives up the road a mile or so, in a little house
+with two rooms. It's where old Jake Barlow used to live."
+
+"Thank you, sir. I guess I'll be goin', then, as my mother'll be
+expectin' me. Do you know if she's well?" and a look of anxiety came
+over the boy's honest, good-natured face.
+
+The question was addressed to John, but of this Godfrey was not quite
+sure. He thought the inquiry was made of him, and his pride was
+touched.
+
+"What should I know of your mother, you beggar?" he said, with a
+sneer. "I don't associate with such low people."
+
+"Do you mane my mother?" said Andy, quickly, and he, too, looked angry
+and threatening.
+
+"Yes, I do. What are you going to do about it?" demanded Godfrey.
+
+"You'd better take it back," said Andy, his good-humored face now dark
+with passion.
+
+"Do you think I am afraid of such a beggar as you?" sneered Godfrey.
+"You appear to forget that you are speaking to a gentleman."
+
+"Shure, I didn't know it," returned Andy, hotly. "You're no gentleman
+if you insult my mother, and if you'll come out here for a minute I'll
+give you a bating."
+
+"John," said Godfrey, angrily, "will you drive that beggar away?"
+
+Now, John's sympathies were rather with Andy than with his young
+master. He had no great admiration for Godfrey, having witnessed
+during the year he had been in his father's employ too much of the
+boy's arrogance and selfishness to feel much attachment for him. Had
+he taken any part in the present quarrel, he would have preferred
+espousing the cause of the Irish boy; but that would not have been
+polite, and he therefore determined to preserve his neutrality.
+
+"That ain't my business, Master Godfrey," he said. "You must fight
+your own battles."
+
+"Go away from here," said Godfrey, imperiously advancing toward that
+part of the fence against which Andy Burke was leaning.
+
+"Will you take back what you said agin' my mother?"
+
+"No, I won't."
+
+"Then you're a blackguard, if you are a rich man's son."
+
+The blood rushed to Godfrey's face on the instant. This was a palpable
+insult. What! he, a rich man's son, the only son and heir of Colonel
+Anthony Preston, with his broad acres and ample bank account--he to be
+called a blackguard by a low Irish boy. His passion got the better of
+him, and he ran through the gate, his eyes flashing fire, bent on
+exterminating his impudent adversary.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+A SKIRMISH
+
+
+Andy Burke was not the boy to run away from an opponent of his own
+size and age. Neither did he propose to submit quietly to the
+thrashing which Godfrey designed to give him. He dropped his stick and
+bundle, and squared off scientifically at his aristocratic foe.
+
+Godfrey paused an instant before him.
+
+"I'm going to give you a thrashing," he said; "the worst thrashing you
+ever had."
+
+"Are you, now?" asked Andy, undismayed. "Come on, thin; I'm ready for
+you."
+
+"You're an impudent young ruffian."
+
+"So are you."
+
+Godfrey's aristocratic blood boiled at this retort, and he struck out
+at Andy, but the latter knew what was coming, and, swift as a flash,
+warded it off, and fetched Godfrey a blow full upon his nose, which
+started the blood. Now, the pain and the sight of the blood combined
+filled him with added fury, and he attempted to seize Andy around the
+waist and throw him. But here again he was foiled. The young Irish boy
+evaded his grasp, and, seizing him in turn, by an adroit movement of
+the foot, tripped him up. Godfrey fell heavily on his back.
+
+Andy withdrew a little, and did not offer to hold him down, as Godfrey
+would have been sure to do under similar circumstances. "Have you got
+enough?" he asked.
+
+"That wasn't fair," exclaimed Godfrey, jumping up hastily, deeply
+mortified because he had been worsted in the presence of John, who,
+sooth to say, rather enjoyed his young master's overthrow.
+
+He rushed impetuously at Andy, but he was blinded by his own
+impetuosity, and his adversary, who kept cool and self-possessed, had,
+of course, the advantage. So the engagement terminated as
+before--Godfrey was stretched once more on the sidewalk. He was about
+to renew the assault, however, when there was an interruption. This
+interruption came in the form of Colonel Preston himself, who was
+returning from a business meeting of citizens interested in
+establishing a savings bank in the village.
+
+"What's all this, Godfrey?" he called out, in a commanding tone.
+
+Godfrey knew that when his father spoke he must obey, and he therefore
+desisted from the contemplated attack. He looked up at his father and
+said, sulkily:
+
+"I was punishing this Irish boy for his impertinence."
+
+John grinned a little at this way of putting it, and his father said:
+
+"It looked very much as if he were punishing you."
+
+"I didn't get fair hold," said Godfrey, sulkily.
+
+"So he was impertinent, was he? What did he say?"
+
+"He said I was no gentleman."
+
+Andy Burke listened attentively to what was said, but didn't attempt
+to justify himself as yet.
+
+"I have sometimes had suspicions of that myself," said his father,
+quietly.
+
+Though Godfrey was an only son, his father was sensible enough to be
+fully aware of his faults. If he was indulged, it was his mother, not
+his father, that was in fault. Colonel Preston was a fair and just
+man, and had sensible views about home discipline; but he was
+overruled by his wife, whose character may be judged from the fact
+that her son closely resembled her. She was vain, haughty, and proud
+of putting on airs. She considered herself quite the finest lady in
+the village, but condescended to associate with the wives of the
+minister, the doctor, and a few of the richer inhabitants, but even
+with them she took care to show that she regarded herself superior to
+them all. She was, therefore, unpopular, as was her son among his
+companions. However, these two stood by each other, and Mrs. Preston
+was sure to defend Godfrey in all he did, and complained because his
+father did not do the same.
+
+"I didn't think you'd turn against me, and let a low boy insult me,"
+complained Godfrey.
+
+"Why do you call him low?"
+
+"Because he's only an Irish boy."
+
+"Some of our most distinguished men have been Irish boys or of Irish
+descent. I don't think you have proved your point."
+
+"He's a beggar."
+
+"I'm not a beggar," exclaimed Andy, speaking for the first time. "I
+never begged a penny in all my life."
+
+"Look at his rags," said Godfrey, scornfully.
+
+"You would be in rags, too, if you had to buy your own clothes. I
+think I should respect you very much more under the circumstances,"
+returned his father.
+
+"The colonel's a-givin' it to him," thought John, with a grin.
+"'Twon't do the young master any harm."
+
+"What is your name?" inquired Colonel Preston, turning now to our
+hero, as his son seemed to have no more to say.
+
+"Andy Burke."
+
+"Do you live here?"
+
+"I've just come to town, sir. My mother lives here."
+
+"Where does she live?"
+
+"I don't know, sir, just. He knows," pointing out John.
+
+"I calcerlate his mother lives in old Jake Barlow's house," said John.
+
+"Oh, the Widow Burke. Yes, I know. I believe Mrs. Preston employs her
+sometimes. Well, Andy, if that's your name, how is it that I catch you
+fighting with my son? That is not very creditable, unless you have
+good cause."
+
+"He called my mother a low woman," said Andy, "and then he run up and
+hit me."
+
+"Did you do that, Godfrey?"
+
+"He was putting on too many airs. He talked as if he was my equal."
+
+"He appears to be more than your equal in strength," said his father.
+"Well, was that all?"
+
+"It was about all."
+
+"Then I think he did perfectly right, and I hope you'll profit by the
+lesson you have received."
+
+"He is a gentleman," thought Andy. "He ain't hard on a boy because
+he's poor."
+
+Colonel Preston went into the house, but Godfrey lingered behind a
+moment. He wanted to have a parting shot at his adversary. He could
+fight with words, if not with blows.
+
+"Look here!" he said, imperiously; "don't let me see you round here
+again."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I don't want to see you."
+
+"Then you can look the other way," said Andy, independently.
+
+"This is my house."
+
+"I thought it was your father's."
+
+"That's the same thing. You'd better stay at home with your mother."
+
+"Thank you," said Andy; "you're very kind. May I come along the road
+sometimes?"
+
+"If you do, walk on the other side."
+
+Andy laughed. He was no longer provoked, but amused.
+
+"Then, by the same token, you'd better not come by my mother's house,"
+he said, good-humoredly.
+
+"I don't want to come near your miserable shanty," said Godfrey,
+disdainfully.
+
+"You may come, if you keep on the other side of the road," said Andy,
+slyly.
+
+Godfrey was getting disgusted; for in the war of words, as well as of
+blows, his ragged opponent seemed to be getting the better of him. He
+turned on his heel and entered the house. He was sure of one who would
+sympathize with him in his dislike and contempt for Andy--this was, of
+course, his mother. Besides, he had another idea. He knew that Mrs.
+Burke had been employed by his mother, occasionally, to assist in the
+house. It occurred to him that it would be a fine piece of revenge to
+induce her to dispense hereafter with the poor woman's services. Bent
+on accomplishing this creditable retaliation, he left his young
+opponent master of the field.
+
+"I must be goin'," said Andy, as he picked up his bundle and suspended
+it from his stick. "Will I find the house where my mother lives,
+easy?"
+
+The question was, of course, addressed to John, who had just turned to
+go to the stable.
+
+"You can't miss it," answered John. "It's a mile up the road, stands a
+little way back. There's a few hills of potatoes in the front yard.
+How long since you saw your mother?"
+
+"It's three months."
+
+"Does she know you are coming to-day?"
+
+"No. I would have wrote to her, but my fingers isn't very ready with
+the pen."
+
+"Nor mine either," said John. "I'd rather take a licking any time than
+write a letter. Come round and see us some time."
+
+"The boy'll lick me," said Andy, laughing.
+
+"I guess you can manage him."
+
+Andy smiled, for it was his own conviction, also. With his bundle on
+his shoulder he trudged on, light of heart, for he was about to see
+his mother and sister, both of whom he warmly loved.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+ANDY AND HIS MOTHER
+
+
+The house in which the Widow Burke and her daughter lived was a very
+humble one. It had not been painted for many years, and the original
+coat had worn off, leaving it dark and time-stained. But when Mrs.
+Burke came to town, a short time before, it was the only dwelling she
+could hire that was held at a rent within her means. So she and Mary,
+who was now eleven years old, had moved in their scanty furniture and
+made it look as much like a home as possible.
+
+Mrs. Burke had not always been as poor as now. She was the daughter of
+an Irish tradesman, and had received quite a good education. In due
+time she married a small farmer, who was considered to be in fair
+circumstances, but there came a bad year, and misfortunes of various
+kinds came together. The last and heaviest of all was fever, which
+prostrated her husband on a bed of sickness. Though his wife watched
+over him night and day with all the devotion of love, it was all of no
+avail. He died, and she found herself left with about a hundred
+pounds--after his debts were paid. She was advised to go to America
+with her two children, and did so. That was five years before. They
+had lived in various places--but the little sum she had left over,
+after the passage of the three was paid, had long since melted away,
+and she was forced to get a living as she could.
+
+Since she had come to Crampton, leaving Andy at work for a farmer in
+the place where they had last lived, she had obtained what sewing she
+could from the families in the village, and had besides obtained a
+chance to help about the ironing at Colonel Preston's. Washing was too
+hard for her, for her strength was not great.
+
+At the time of our introduction she was engaged in making a shirt, one
+of half a dozen which she had engaged to make for Dr. Plympton, the
+village doctor. She had no idea that Andy was so near, having heard
+nothing of his having left his place, but it was of him she was
+speaking.
+
+"I wish I could see Andy," she sighed, looking up from her work.
+
+"So do I, mother."
+
+"The sight of him would do my eyes good, he's such a lively lad, Andy
+is--always in good spirits."
+
+"Shure, he's got a good heart, mother dear. It wouldn't be so lonely
+like if he was here."
+
+"I would send for him if there was anything to do, Mary; but we are so
+poor that we must all of us stay where we can get work."
+
+"When do you go to Colonel Preston's, mother? Is it to-morrow?"
+
+"Yes, my dear."
+
+"I'm always lonely when you are away."
+
+"Perhaps you would come with me, Mary, dear. Mrs. Preston wouldn't
+object, I'm thinkin'."
+
+"If Andy was at home I wouldn't feel so lonely."
+
+While she was speaking Andy himself had crept under the window, and
+heard her words. He was planning a surprise, but waited for the last
+moment to announce himself. He waited to hear what reply his mother
+would say.
+
+"I think we'll see him soon, Mary, dear."
+
+"What makes you say so, mother?"
+
+"I don't know. I've got a feeling in my bones that we'll soon meet.
+The blessed saints grant that it may be so."
+
+"Your bones are right this time, mother," said a merry voice.
+
+And Andy, popping up from his stooping position, showed himself at the
+window.
+
+There was a simultaneous scream from Mary and her mother.
+
+"Is it you, Andy?" exclaimed Mary.
+
+"It isn't nobody else," said Andy, rather ungrammatically.
+
+"Come in, Andy, my darling--come in, and tell me if you are well,"
+said his mother, dropping the shirt on which she was at work, and
+rising to her feet.
+
+"I'll be with you in a jiffy," said Andy.
+
+And, with a light leap, he cleared the window sill, and stood in the
+presence of his mother and sister, who vied with each other in hugging
+the returned prodigal.
+
+"You'll choke me, Sister Mary," said Andy, good-humoredly. "Maybe you
+think I'm your beau."
+
+"Don't speak to her of beaux, and she only eleven years old," said his
+mother. "But you haven't told us why you came."
+
+"Faith, mother, it was because the work gave out, and I thought I'd
+pack my trunk and come and see you and Mary. That's all."
+
+"We are glad to see you, Andy, dear, but," continued his mother,
+taking a survey of her son's appearance for the first time, "you're
+lookin' like a beggar, with your clothes all in rags."
+
+Andy laughed.
+
+"Faith, it's about so, mother. There was no one to mend 'em for me,
+and I'm more used to the hoe than the needle."
+
+"I will sew up some of the holes when you're gone to bed, Andy. Are
+you sure you're well, lad?"
+
+"Well, mother? Jist wait till you see me atin', mother. You'll think
+I've got a healthy appetite."
+
+"I never thought, Andy. The poor lad must be hungry. Mary, see what
+there is in the closet."
+
+"There's nothing but some bread, mother," said Mary.
+
+Indeed bread and potatoes were the main living of the mother and
+daughter, adopted because they were cheap. They seldom ventured on the
+extravagance of meat, and that was one reason, doubtless, for Mrs.
+Burke's want of strength and sometimes feeling faint and dizzy while
+working at her needle.
+
+"Is there no meat in the house, Mary?"
+
+"Not a bit, mother."
+
+"Then go and see if there's an egg outside."
+
+The widow kept a few hens, having a henhouse in one corner of the back
+yard. The eggs she usually sold, but Andy was at home now, and needed
+something hearty, so they must be more extravagant than usual.
+
+Mary went out, and quickly returned with a couple of eggs.
+
+"Here they are, mother, two of them. The black hen was settin' on
+them, but I drove her away, and you can hear her cackling. Shure, Andy
+needs them more than she does."
+
+"Will you have them boiled or fried, Andy?" asked his mother.
+
+"Any way, mother. I'm hungry enough to ate 'em raw. It's hungry work
+walkin' ten miles wid a bundle on your back, let alone the fightin'."
+
+"Fighting!" exclaimed Mrs. Burke, pausing in drawing out the table.
+
+"Fightin', Andy?" chimed in Mary, in chorus.
+
+"Yes, mother," said Andy.
+
+"And who did you fight with?" asked the widow, anxiously.
+
+"With a boy that feels as big as a king; maybe bigger."
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"I heard his father call him Godfrey."
+
+"What, Godfrey Preston?" exclaimed Mrs. Burke in something like
+consternation.
+
+"Yes, that's the name. He lives in a big house a mile up the road."
+
+"What made you fight with him, Andy?" inquired his mother, anxiously.
+
+"He began it."
+
+"What could he have against you? He didn't know you."
+
+"He thought as I only was an Irish boy he could insult me, and call me
+names, but I was too much for him."
+
+"I hope you didn't hurt him?"
+
+"I throwed him twice, mother, but then his father came up and that put
+a stop to the fight."
+
+"And what did his father say?"
+
+"He took my part, mother, when he found out how it was, and scolded
+his son. Shure, he's a gentleman."
+
+"Yes, Colonel Preston is a gentleman."
+
+"And that's where he isn't like his son, I'm thinkin'."
+
+"No. Godfrey isn't like his father. It's his mother he favors."
+
+"Faith, and I don't call it favoring," said Andy. Is the old lady as
+ugly and big-feelin' as the son?"
+
+"She's rather a hard woman, Andy. I go up to work there one day every
+week."
+
+"Do you, mother?" said Andy, not wholly pleased to hear that his
+mother was employed by the mother of his young enemy.
+
+"Yes, Andy."
+
+"What is it you do?"
+
+"I help about the ironing. To-morrow's my day for going there."
+
+"I wish you could stay at home, and not go out to work, mother," said
+Andy, soberly. "You don't look strong, mother, dear. I'm afraid you're
+not well."
+
+"Oh, yes, Andy, I am quite well. I shall be better, too, now that you
+are at home. I missed you very much. It seemed lonely without you."
+
+"I must find out some way to earn money, mother," said Andy. "I'm
+young and strong, and I ought to support you."
+
+"You can help me, Andy," said Mrs. Burke, cheerfully.
+
+She took up the shirt and resumed her sewing.
+
+"I'm afraid you're too steady at the work, mother," said Andy.
+
+"I shall be ironing to-morrow. It's a change from sewing, Andy. Mary,
+it's time to take off the eggs."
+
+Andy was soon partaking of the frugal meal set before him. He enjoyed
+it, simple as it was, and left not a particle of the egg or a crumb of
+the bread.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+MRS. PRESTON
+
+
+Whenever Godfrey Preston had any difficulty with his father, he always
+went to his mother, and from her, right or wrong, he was sure to
+obtain sympathy. So in the present instance, failing to receive from
+his father that moral support to which he deemed himself entitled, on
+entering the house he sought out his mother.
+
+Mrs. Preston, who was rather a spare lady, with thin lips and a sharp,
+hatchet-like face, was in her own room. She looked up as Godfrey
+entered.
+
+"Well, Godfrey, what's the matter?" she asked, seeing on her son's
+face an unmistakable expression of discontent.
+
+"Matter enough, mother. Father's always against me."
+
+"I know it. He appears to forget that you are his son. What is it
+now?"
+
+"He came up just as I was thrashing a boy down in the yard."
+
+"What boy?"
+
+"Nobody you know, mother. It was only an Irish boy."
+
+"What was your reason for punishing him?" asked Mrs. Preston, adopting
+Godfrey's version of the affair.
+
+"He was impudent to me. He was leaning against the fence, and I
+ordered him away. He was a ragged boy, with a bundle on a stick. Of
+course, when he wouldn't move, I went out and thrashed him."
+
+"Was your father there?"
+
+"He came up in the midst of it, and, instead of taking my part, he
+took the part of the Irish boy."
+
+"I don't see how Mr. Preston can be so unfair," said his wife. "It is
+his duty to stand by his family."
+
+"I felt ashamed to have him scold me before the impudent boy. Of
+course, he enjoyed it, and I suppose he will think he can be impudent
+to me again."
+
+"No doubt. I will speak to your father about it. He really shouldn't
+be so inconsiderate. But what is that stain on your coat, Godfrey? I
+should think you had been down on your back on the ground."
+
+"Oh," said Godfrey, rather embarrassed, "I happened to slip as I was
+wrestling with the fellow, and fell on my back. However, I was up
+again directly and gave it to him, I can tell you. If father hadn't
+stopped me I'd have laid him out," he continued, in a swaggering tone.
+
+It will be seen that Godfrey did not always confine himself to the
+truth. Indeed, he found it rather hard at all times to admit either
+that he had been in the wrong or had been worsted. Even if his mother
+sometimes suspected that his accounts were a trifle distorted, she
+forbore to question their accuracy. Mother and son had a sort of tacit
+compact by which they stood by each other, and made common cause
+against Colonel Preston.
+
+"Don't you know the boy? Doesn't he live in the neighborhood?" asked
+Mrs. Preston, after a pause.
+
+"He's just come into the town, but I'll tell you who he is. He's the
+son of that woman that comes to work for you once a week."
+
+"Mrs. Burke?"
+
+"Yes; he told me that his name was Andy Burke."
+
+"He ought to know his place too well to be impudent to one in your
+position."
+
+"So I think."
+
+"I shall speak to Mrs. Burke about her son's bad behavior."
+
+"I wish you'd discharge her. That's a good way to punish the boy."
+
+"I shouldn't object to doing that, Godfrey, but Mrs. Burke is a
+capital hand at ironing shirts. Yours and your father's never looked
+so nice as they have since she has been here."
+
+Godfrey looked a little discontented. Being essentially mean, he
+thought it would be an excellent plan to strike the son through the
+mother.
+
+"You might threaten her, mother, a little. Tell her to make her boy
+behave himself, or you'll discharge her."
+
+"I will certainly speak to her on the subject, Godfrey."
+
+At the table Mrs. Preston introduced the subject of Godfrey's wrongs.
+
+"I am surprised, Mr. Preston, that you took part against Godfrey when
+he was rudely assaulted this morning."
+
+"I thought Godfrey in the wrong, my dear. That was my reason."
+
+"You generally appear to think your own son in the wrong. You are
+ready to take part with any stranger against him," said Mrs. Preston,
+in a complaining manner.
+
+"I don't think you are quite right just there," said her husband,
+good-humoredly. "I must say, however, that Godfrey generally is in the
+wrong."
+
+"You are very unjust to him."
+
+"I don't mean to be. I would be glad to praise him, but he is so
+overbearing to those whom he considers his inferiors, that I am
+frequently ashamed of his manner of treating others."
+
+"The boy has some reason to feel proud. He must maintain his
+position."
+
+"What is his position?"
+
+"I don't think you need to ask. As our son he is entitled to a degree
+of consideration."
+
+"He will receive consideration enough if he deserves it, but this is a
+republic, and all are supposed to be on an equality."
+
+Mrs. Preston tossed her head.
+
+"That's well enough to say, but don't you consider yourself above a
+man that goes round sawing wood for a living?"
+
+"At any rate I would treat him with courtesy. Because I am richer, and
+have a better education, it is no reason why I should treat him with
+contempt."
+
+"Then I don't share your sentiments," said Mrs. Preston. "I am
+thankful that I know my position better. I mean to uphold the dignity
+of the family, and I hope my son will do the same."
+
+Colonel Preston shrugged his shoulders as his wife swept from the
+room. He knew of old her sentiments on this subject, and he was aware
+that she was not likely to become a convert to his more democratic
+ideas.
+
+"I am afraid she will spoil Godfrey," he thought. "The boy is getting
+intolerable. I am glad this Irish boy gave him a lesson. He seems a
+fine-spirited lad. I will help him if I can."
+
+"Ellen," said Mrs. Preston the next morning, "when Mrs. Burke comes
+let me know."
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"She's come," announced Ellen, half an hour later.
+
+Mrs. Preston rose from her seat and went into the laundry.
+
+"Good-morning, Mrs. Preston," said Mrs. Burke.
+
+"Good-morning," returned the other, stiffly. "Mrs. Burke, I hear that
+your son behaved very badly to my Godfrey yesterday."
+
+"It isn't like Andy, ma'am," said the mother, quietly. "He's a good,
+well-behaved lad."
+
+"Godfrey tells me that he made a brutal assault upon him, quite
+forgetting his superior position."
+
+"Are you sure Master Godfrey didn't strike him first?" asked the
+mother.
+
+"Even if he had, your son shouldn't have struck back."
+
+"Why not?" asked Mrs. Burke, her eyes flashing with spirit, meek as
+she generally was.
+
+"Because it was improper," said Mrs. Preston, decisively.
+
+"I don't see that, ma'am. Andy isn't the boy to stand still and be
+struck."
+
+"Do I understand," said Mrs. Preston, in a freezing tone, "that you
+uphold your son in his atrocious conduct?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am. I stand up for Andy, for he's a good boy, and if he
+struck Master Godfrey it was because he was struck first."
+
+"That is enough," said Mrs. Preston, angrily. "I shall not require
+your services after to-day, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"Just as you like, ma'am," said Mrs. Burke, with quiet pride, but she
+thought, with a sinking heart, of the gap which this would make in her
+scanty income.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+A PROFITABLE JOB
+
+
+After finishing her work at Colonel Preston's Mrs. Burke went home.
+She did not see Mrs. Preston again, for the latter sent her the money
+for her services by Ellen.
+
+"Mrs. Preston says you're not to come next week," said Ellen.
+
+"She told me so herself this morning. She is angry because I took the
+part of my boy against Master Godfrey."
+
+"Godfrey's the hatefulest boy I ever see," said Ellen, whose grammar
+was a little defective. "He's always putting on airs."
+
+"He struck my Andy, and Andy struck him back."
+
+"I'm glad he did," said Ellen, emphatically. "I hope he'll do it
+again."
+
+"I don't want the boys to fight. Andy's a peaceable lad; and he'll be
+quiet if he's let alone. But he's just like his poor father, and he
+won't let anybody trample on him."
+
+"That's where he's right," said Ellen. "I'm sorry you're not coming
+again, Mrs. Burke."
+
+"So am I, Ellen, for I need the money, but I'll stand by my boy."
+
+"You iron real beautiful. I've heard Mrs. Preston say so often. She
+won't get nobody that'll suit her so well."
+
+"If you hear of anybody else that wants help, Ellen, will you send
+them to me?"
+
+This Ellen faithfully promised, and Mrs. Burke went home, sorry to
+have lost her engagement, but not sorry to have stood up for Andy, of
+whom she was proud.
+
+Andy was at home when she returned. He had found enough to do at home
+to occupy him so far. The next day he meant to go out in search of
+employment. When his mother got back she found him cutting some brush
+which he had obtained from the neighboring woods.
+
+"There, mother," he said, pointing to a considerable pile, "you'll
+have enough sticks to last you a good while."
+
+"Thank you, Andy, dear. That'll save Mary and me a good deal of
+trouble."
+
+There was nothing in her words, but something in her tone, which led
+Andy to ask:
+
+"What's the matter, mother? Has anything happened?"
+
+"I've got through working for Mrs. Preston, Andy."
+
+"Got through? For to-day, you mean?"
+
+"No; I'm not going to work there again."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"She complained of you, Andy."
+
+"What did she say, mother?" asked our hero, listening with attention.
+
+"She said you ought not to have struck Godfrey."
+
+"Did you tell her he struck me first?"
+
+"Yes, I did."
+
+"And what did she say, thin?"
+
+"She said that you ought not to have struck him back."
+
+"And what did you say, mother?"
+
+"I said my Andy wasn't the boy to stand still and let anybody beat
+him."
+
+"Good for you, mother! Bully for you! That's where you hit the nail on
+the head. And what did the ould lady say then?"
+
+"She told me I needn't come there again to work."
+
+"I'm glad you're not goin', mother. I don't want you to work for the
+likes of her. Let her do her own ironin', the ould spalpeen!"
+
+In general, Andy's speech was tolerably clear of the brogue, but
+whenever he became a little excited, as at present, it was more
+marked. He was more angry at the slight to his mother than he would
+have been at anything, however contemptuous, said to himself. He had
+that chivalrous feeling of respect for his mother which every boy of
+his age ought to have, more especially if that mother is a widow.
+
+"But, Andy, I'm very sorry for the money I'll lose."
+
+"How much is it, mother?"
+
+"Seventy-five cents."
+
+"I'll make it up, mother."
+
+"I know you will if you can, Andy; but work is hard to get, and the
+pay is small."
+
+"You might go back and tell Mrs. Preston that I'm a dirty spalpeen,
+and maybe she'd take you back, mother."
+
+"I wouldn't slander my own boy like that if she'd take me back twenty
+times."
+
+"That's the way to talk, mother," said Andy, well pleased. "Don't you
+be afeared--we'll get along somehow. More by token, here's three
+dollars I brought home with me yisterday."
+
+Andy pulled out from his pocket six silver half-dollars, and offered
+them to his mother.
+
+"Where did you get them, Andy?" she asked, in surprise.
+
+"Where did I get them? One way and another, by overwork. We won't
+starve while them last, will we?"
+
+Andy's cheerful tone had its effect upon his mother.
+
+"Perhaps you're right, Andy," she said, smiling. "At any rate we won't
+cry till it's time."
+
+"To-morrow I'll go out and see if I can find work."
+
+"Suppose you don't find it, Andy?" suggested his sister.
+
+"Then I'll take in washing," said Andy, laughing. "It's an iligant
+washer I'd make, wouldn't I now?"
+
+"Nobody'd hire you more than once, Andy."
+
+By and by they had supper. If they had been alone they would have got
+along on bread and tea; but "Andy needs meat, for he's a growing boy,"
+said his mother.
+
+And so Mary was dispatched to the butcher's for a pound and a half of
+beefsteak, which made the meal considerably more attractive. Mrs.
+Burke felt that it was extravagant, particularly just as her income
+was diminished, but she couldn't bear to stint Andy. At first she was
+not going to eat, herself, meaning to save a part for Andy's
+breakfast; but our hero found her out, and declared he wouldn't eat a
+bit if his mother did not eat, too. So she was forced to take her
+share, and it did her good, for no one can keep up a decent share of
+strength on bread and tea alone.
+
+The next morning Andy went out in search of work. He had no very
+definite idea where to go, or to whom to apply, but he concluded to
+put in an application anywhere he could.
+
+He paused in front of the house of Deacon Jones, a hard-fisted old
+farmer, whose reputation for parsimony was well known throughout the
+village, but of this Andy, being a newcomer, was ignorant.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to hire a good strong boy?" he asked, entering the
+yard.
+
+The deacon looked up.
+
+"Ever worked on a farm?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Can you milk?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where did you work?"
+
+"In Carver."
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Andy Burke."
+
+"Where do you live?"
+
+"With my mother, Mrs. Burke, a little way down the road."
+
+"I know--the Widder Burke."
+
+"Have you got any work for me?"
+
+"Wait a minute, I'll see."
+
+The deacon brought out an old scythe from the barn, and felt of the
+edge. There was not much danger in so doing, for it was as dull as a
+hoe.
+
+"This scythe needs sharpening," he said. "Come and turn the
+grindstone."
+
+"Well, here's a job, anyhow," thought Andy. "Wonder what he'll give
+me."
+
+He sat down and began to turn the grindstone. The deacon bore on
+heavily, and this made it hard turning. His arms ached, and the
+perspiration stood on his brow. It was certainly pretty hard work, but
+then he must be prepared for that, and after all he was earning money
+for his mother. Still the time did seem long. The scythe was so
+intolerably dull that it took a long time to make any impression upon
+it.
+
+"Kinder hard turnin', ain't it?" said the deacon.
+
+"Yes," said Andy.
+
+"This scythe ain't been sharpened for ever so long. It's as dull as a
+hoe."
+
+However, time and patience work wonders, and at length the deacon,
+after a careful inspection of the blade of the scythe, released Andy
+from his toil of an hour and a half, with the remark:
+
+"I reckon that'll do."
+
+He put the scythe in its place and came out.
+
+Andy lingered respectfully for the remuneration of his labor.
+
+"He ought to give me a quarter," he thought. But the deacon showed no
+disposition to pay him, and Andy became impatient.
+
+"I guess I'll be goin'," he said.
+
+"All right. I ain't got anything more for you to do," said the deacon.
+
+"I'll take my pay now," said Andy, desperately.
+
+"Pay? What for?" inquired the deacon, innocently.
+
+"For turning the grindstone."
+
+"You don't mean ter say you expect anything for that?" said the deacon
+in a tone of surprise.
+
+"Yes I do," said Andy. "I can't work an hour and a half for nothing."
+
+"I didn't expect to pay for such a trifle," said the old man, fumbling
+in his pocket.
+
+Finally he brought out two cents, one of the kind popularly known as
+bung-towns, which are not generally recognized as true currency.
+
+"There," said he in an injured tone. "I'll pay you, though I didn't
+think you'd charge anything for any little help like that."
+
+Andy looked at the proffered compensation with mingled astonishment
+and disgust.
+
+"Never mind," he said. "You can keep it. You need it more'n I do, I'm
+thinkin'!"
+
+"Don't you want it?" asked the deacon, surprised.
+
+"No, I don't. I'm a poor boy, but I don't work an hour and a half for
+two cents, one of 'em bad. I'd rather take no pay at all."
+
+"That's a cur'us boy," said the deacon, slowly sliding the pennies
+back into his pocket. "I calc'late he expected more just for a little
+job like that. Does he think I'm made of money?"
+
+As Andy went out of the yard, the idea dawned upon the deacon that he
+had saved two cents, and his face was luminous with satisfaction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+THE TWO OLD MAIDS
+
+
+"He's the meanest man I ever saw," thought Andy. "Does he think I work
+on nothing a year, and find myself? Divil a bit of work will I do for
+him agin, if I know it." But better luck was in store for Andy.
+Quarter of a mile farther on, in a two-story house, old-fashioned but
+neat, lived two maiden ladies of very uncertain age, Misses Priscilla
+and Sophia Grant. I am not aware that any relationship existed between
+them and our distinguished ex-President. Nevertheless, they were of
+very respectable family and connections, and of independent property,
+owning bank stock which brought them in an annual income of about
+twelve hundred dollars, in addition to the house they occupied, and
+half a dozen acres of land thereunto pertaining. Now, this was not a
+colossal fortune, but in a country place like Crampton it made them
+ladies of large property.
+
+Priscilla was the elder of the two, and general manager. Sophia
+contented herself with being the echo of her stronger-minded sister,
+and was very apt to assent to her remarks, either by repeating them,
+or by saying: "Just so." She was a mild, inoffensive creature, but
+very charitable and amiable, and so little given to opposition that
+there was always the greatest harmony between them. They kept a
+gardener and out-of-door servant of all work, who cultivated the land,
+sawed and split their wood, ran of errands, and made himself generally
+useful. He had one drawback, unfortunately. He would occasionally
+indulge to excess in certain fiery alcoholic compounds sold at the
+village tavern, and, as natural consequence, get drunk. He had usually
+the good sense to keep out of the way while under the influence of
+liquor, and hitherto the good ladies had borne with and retained him
+in their employ.
+
+But a crisis had arrived. That morning he had come for orders while
+inebriated, and in his drunken folly had actually gone so far as to
+call Miss Priscilla darling and offer to kiss her.
+
+Miss Priscilla was, of course, horrified, and so expressed herself.
+
+"Law, Sophia," she said, "I came near fainting away. The idea of his
+offering to kiss me."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"So presuming."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"Of course, I couldn't think of employing him any longer."
+
+"Couldn't think of it."
+
+"He might have asked to kiss me again."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"Or you!"
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, in some excitement of manner.
+
+"The neighbors would talk."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"So I told him that I was very sorry, but it would be necessary for
+him to find work somewhere else."
+
+"But who will do our work?" inquired Sophia, with a rare, original
+suggestion.
+
+"We must get somebody else."
+
+"So we must," acquiesced Sophia, as if she had suddenly received light
+on a very dark subject.
+
+"But I don't know who we can get."
+
+"Just so."
+
+At that moment there was a knock at the door. Priscilla answered it in
+person. They kept no domestic servant, only a gardener.
+
+"I've brought the load of wood you ordered, ma'am," said the teamster.
+"Where shall I put it?"
+
+"In the backyard. John--no, John has left us. I will show you,
+myself."
+
+She put on a cape-bonnet and indicated the place in the yard where she
+wanted the wood dumped.
+
+Then she returned to the house.
+
+"It's very awkward that John should have acted so," she said, in a
+tone of annoyance. "I don't know who is to saw and split that wood."
+
+"We couldn't do it," said Sophia, with another original suggestion.
+
+"Of course not. That would be perfectly absurd."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"I don't believe there is enough wood sawed and split to last through
+the day."
+
+"We must have some split."
+
+"Of course. But I really don't know of anyone in the neighborhood that
+we could get."
+
+"John."
+
+"John has gone away. You know why."
+
+"Perhaps he wouldn't kiss us if we told him not to," suggested Sophia.
+
+"I am afraid you are a goose," said Priscilla, composedly.
+
+"Just so," slipped out of Sophia's mouth from force of habit, but her
+sister was so used to hearing it that she took no particular notice of
+it on the present occasion.
+
+It was just at this time that Andy, released from his severe and
+unrequited labor for Deacon Jones, came by. He saw the wood being
+unloaded in the back yard, and an idea struck him.
+
+"Maybe I can get the chance of sawin' and splittin' that wood. I'll
+try, anyway. I wonder who lives there?"
+
+He immediately opened the front gate, and marching up to the front
+door, knocked vigorously.
+
+"There's somebody at the door," said Sophia.
+
+"Perhaps it's John come back," said Priscilla. "I am afraid of going
+to open it. He might want to kiss me again."
+
+"I'll go," said Sophia, rising with unwonted alacrity.
+
+"He might want to kiss you."
+
+"I'll tell him not to."
+
+"We'll both go," said Priscilla, decisively.
+
+Accordingly, the two sisters, for mutual protection, both went to the
+door, and opened it guardedly. Their courage returned when they saw
+that it was only a boy.
+
+"What do you want?" asked Priscilla.
+
+"Just so," chimed in Sophia.
+
+"You've got a load of wood in the back yard," commenced Andy.
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"Do you want it sawed and split?"
+
+"Just so," answered the younger sister, brightening up.
+
+"Can you do it?" inquired Priscilla.
+
+"Try me and see," answered Andy.
+
+"You're not a man."
+
+"Just so," chimed in her sister.
+
+"Faith, and I soon will be," said Andy. "I can saw and split wood as
+well as any man you ever saw."
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Andy Burke."
+
+"Are you a--Hibernian?" inquired Priscilla.
+
+"I don't know what you mane by that same," said Andy, perplexed.
+
+"To what nation do you belong?"
+
+"Oh, that's what you want, ma'am. I'm only an Irish boy."
+
+"And you say your name is Burke?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Are you related to Burke, the great orator? He was an Irishman, I
+believe."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"He was my great-grandfather, ma'am," answered Andy, who had never
+heard of the eminent orator, but thought the claim would improve his
+chances of obtaining the job of sawing and splitting wood.
+
+"Your great-grandfather!" exclaimed Priscilla, in astonishment.
+"Really, this is most extraordinary. And you are poor?"
+
+"If I wasn't I wouldn't be goin' round sawin' wood, ma'am."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"To think that the grandson of the great Burke should come to us for
+employment," said Priscilla, who was in some respects easily taken in.
+"I think we must hire him, Sophia."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"Perhaps he could take John's place altogether."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"I must find out whether he understands gardening."
+
+"Just so."
+
+Andy stood by, waiting patiently for the decision, and hoping that it
+might be favorable. Of course, it was wrong for him to tell a lie, but
+he thought his engagement depended upon it, and, although a very good
+boy in the main, he was not altogether perfect, as my readers are
+destined to find out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+ANDY OBTAINS A PLACE
+
+
+"Do you understand the care of a garden?" asked Miss Priscilla.
+
+"Yes," answered Andy, promptly.
+
+"Then you are used to agricultural labor?"
+
+"I've been workin' on a farm all summer."
+
+"Our man has just left us, and we must hire somebody else."
+
+"Just so," chimed in Sophia.
+
+"And if you are competent----"
+
+"Just so."
+
+"Try me," said Andy.
+
+"I really think we'd better, Sophia," said Priscilla, turning to her
+sister.
+
+"Just so."
+
+"We'll try you for a week. What compensation do you require?"
+
+"Is it wages you mane?"
+
+Of course, Sophia was the speaker.
+
+"How much did you give the man you had before me?" asked Andy,
+shrewdly.
+
+"Twenty-five dollars a month and board."
+
+"That'll suit me," said Andy, audaciously.
+
+At the farmer's for whom he had been working he had received board and
+a dollar a week.
+
+"But you are a boy. Men folks get more than boys."
+
+"I'll do as much work as he did any day," said Andy, stoutly.
+
+"I really don't know what to say. I think we'll give you five dollars
+the first week, and then we will decide about the future."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"I'm to eat here?" inquired Andy.
+
+"Yes, you will make your home here. We will put you in John's room."
+
+"When shall I begin?"
+
+"We shall need some wood split at once."
+
+"All right, ma'am; but it's dinner time. I'll just go home and get a
+bite to keep up my strength."
+
+"You can have your dinner here. It will be ready in half an hour."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"All right," said Andy; "I'm agreeable."
+
+"Do you live in the village?"
+
+"I do now. My mother lives up the road a bit."
+
+"Very well. Go and split some wood, and we'll call you in to dinner.
+You'll find the ax and the saw in the shed."
+
+Andy found the articles referred to, and straight-way went to work. He
+was really a "smart boy to work," as the phrase is, and he went to
+work with a will. He was greatly elated at having secured so
+profitable a job. He meant to give satisfaction, so as to keep it.
+Five dollars a week and board seemed to him a magnificent income, and
+compared very favorably with his wages at Farmer Belknap's, where he
+had been working all summer.
+
+"It's lucky I came here," he said to himself, as he plied the saw
+energetically; "but what queer old ladies they are, especially the one
+that's always sayin' 'just so.' If I'd tell her I'd got fifty-seven
+grand-children I'll bet she'd say, 'Just so.'"
+
+Miss Sophia was looking out of the back window to see how their new
+"man" worked. Occasionally Priscilla, as she was setting the table,
+glanced out of the window in passing.
+
+"He takes hold as if he knew how," she observed.
+
+"Just so," responded her sister.
+
+"I think he works faster than John."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"It's very strange that he should be the great-grandson of the great
+Burke."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"And that he should be sawing wood for us, too."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"I think we must be kind to him, sister."
+
+"Just so. He won't try to kiss you, Priscilla," said Sophia, with a
+sudden thought.
+
+"You are a goose, sister," said Priscilla.
+
+"Just so," assented the other, from force of habit.
+
+In due time dinner was ready, and Andy was summoned from the woodpile.
+He was in nowise sorry for the summons. He had a hearty appetite at
+all times, and just now it was increased by his unrequited labor in
+turning the grindstone for Deacon Jones, as well as by the half-hour
+he had spent at his new task.
+
+The Misses Grant did their own work, as I have before observed. They
+were excellent cooks, and the dinner now upon the table, though plain,
+was very savory and inviting. Andy's eyes fairly danced with
+satisfaction as they rested on the roast beef and vegetables, which
+emitted an odor of a highly satisfactory character. At the farmer's
+where he had last worked, the table had been plentifully supplied, but
+the cooking was very rudimentary.
+
+"Sit down, Andrew," said Miss Priscilla. "I think that is your name."
+
+"They call me 'Andy,' ma'am."
+
+"That means Andrew. Shall I give you some meat?"
+
+"Thank you, ma'am."
+
+"Will you have it rare or well done?"
+
+"Well done, ma'am. I have it rare enough, anyhow."
+
+"Sophia, Andrew has made a joke," said Priscilla, with a decorous
+smile.
+
+"Just so, Priscilla," and Sophia smiled also.
+
+"I suppose your family has been reduced to poverty, Andrew, or you
+would not be seeking employment of this character?"
+
+"True for you, ma'am," said Andy, with his mouth full.
+
+"How was your family property lost?"
+
+"Faith, ma'am, by speculation," said Andy, hazarding a guess.
+
+"That is very sad. Sophia, we must never speculate."
+
+"Just so, Priscilla."
+
+"Or we might lose all our money."
+
+"And have to saw wood for a living," said Sophia, with another
+brilliant idea.
+
+Andy was so amused at the picture thus suggested that he came near
+choking, but recovered himself, after a violent attack of coughing.
+
+"I am afraid, Sophia, we should scarcely make a living in that way,"
+said Priscilla, with a smile.
+
+"Just so," acquiesced her sister.
+
+"How long have you been in this country, Andrew?"
+
+"Six years, ma'am."
+
+Andy kept at work industriously. His appetite proved to be quite equal
+to the emergency, but his evident enjoyment of the dinner only
+gratified the ladies, who, though eccentric, were kind-hearted, and
+not in the least mean.
+
+"What will I do, ma'am?" asked our hero.
+
+"You may go on sawing wood."
+
+So Andy resumed work, and worked faithfully during the afternoon. By
+this time there was a large pile of wood ready for the stove.
+
+At half-past four Miss Priscilla appeared at the door.
+
+"Andrew," she said.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Do you feel tired?"
+
+"A little, ma'am."
+
+"Does your mother know where you are?"
+
+"No, ma'am."
+
+"Would you like to go home and tell her?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I would."
+
+"You can go now or after supper, as you prefer."
+
+"Then I'll go now."
+
+"But remember, we want you to come back and sleep here. We do not feel
+safe without a man in the house."
+
+Andy felt rather flattered at being referred to as a man.
+
+"I'll be back any time you name, ma'am," he said.
+
+"Then be here at nine o'clock."
+
+"Very well, ma'am."
+
+Andy put on his coat and hurried home. He wanted to tell his mother
+and Mary the good news about his engagement at such unexpected good
+wages.
+
+Mrs. Burke looked up inquiringly as he entered the house.
+
+"Where have you been, Andy?" she asked. "I thought I had lost you."
+
+"You don't lose me so easy, mother. Shure, I've been at work."
+
+"At work?"
+
+"Yes--I've got a place."
+
+"What, already? You are lucky, Andy."
+
+"You'll think so, mother. How much do you think I get besides board,
+mind?"
+
+"A dollar a week?"
+
+"What do you say to three dollars?"
+
+"You're a lucky boy, Andy. I'm glad for you."
+
+"What do you say to five dollars a week, mother?" asked Andy, in
+exultation.
+
+"You're jokin' now, Andy," said his sister. "I don't believe you've
+got a place at all."
+
+"I have, thin, and it's five dollars a week I'm to get. Ask the ould
+maids I'm workin' for."
+
+"The Miss Grants?"
+
+"I expect so. They're mighty queer old ladies. One of 'm is always
+sayin' 'just so.'"
+
+"That is Miss Sophia Grant."
+
+"Just so," said Andy, mimicking her.
+
+"You mustn't do that, Andy. Then it's them you're workin' for?"
+
+"Yes, and they're mighty kind. I'm goin' back to sleep there to-night.
+They want a man to purtect them."
+
+Mary laughed.
+
+"Do you call yourself a man, Andy? What could you do if a burglar
+tried to get in?"
+
+"I'd give him what Paddy did the drum," said Andy.
+
+"Supper is ready," announced his mother.
+
+It was a cheerful meal. Andy had done much better than his mother
+expected, and it seemed likely that they would get along in spite of
+her being discharged by Mrs. Preston.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
+
+
+"It's time for me to be goin' back," said Andy, as the clock indicated
+twenty minutes to nine.
+
+"I wish you could sleep at home, Andy," said his mother.
+
+"They want me to purtect them," said our hero, with a little
+importance. "I'll pack my clothes in a handkerchief."
+
+"I've got a little carpetbag," said his mother. "That looks more
+respectable. When you have earned enough money, you must have a new
+suit of clothes."
+
+"How much will they cost, mother?"
+
+"I think we can get a cheap suit for fifteen or twenty dollars. When
+you have got the money, we will call on the tailor and see."
+
+"Shure, I'll feel like a gentleman with a suit like that."
+
+"Mary, go and get the carpetbag. I've packed Andy's clothes all ready
+for him."
+
+Mary soon reappeared with the carpetbag, and Andy set out on his
+return.
+
+Presently, as the clock struck nine, he knocked at the door of the
+Misses Grant. The elder opened the door for him.
+
+"You are punctual, Andrew," she said, approvingly.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Are those your clothes?" pointing to the bag he carried.
+
+"What few I've got, ma'am. I'm goin' to buy some more when I've got
+money enough."
+
+"That is right. We want you to look respectable."
+
+"Just so," remarked Sophia, who felt that it was time for her to
+speak.
+
+Then a brilliant idea seized her.
+
+"If he was a girl, we could give him some of our dresses."
+
+"But he isn't," said matter-of-fact Priscilla.
+
+"Or if we were men," continued Sophia, with another brilliant idea.
+
+"But we are not."
+
+"Just so," assented her sister, now brought to the end of her
+suggestions.
+
+By this time Andy was in the house, holding his cap in one hand, and
+his carpetbag in the other.
+
+"Do you feel tired?" asked Priscilla.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Then, perhaps you would like to go to bed?"
+
+"I would, if it's just the same to you, ma'am."
+
+"Very well, follow me, and I will show you your room. Sophia, perhaps
+you had better come, too."
+
+They went up the front stairs. The house proper had two rooms on the
+lower floor, and the two chambers over them. But there was, besides,
+an extension behind, used as a kitchen, and over this was the room
+which had been used by John, the former servant.
+
+"This is your room, Andrew," said Miss Priscilla. "Sophia, will you
+lift the latch?"
+
+The door being opened, revealed a small chamber, with the ceiling
+partly sloping. There were two windows. It was very plainly furnished,
+but looked very comfortable. Andy glanced about him with a look of
+satisfaction. It was considerably more attractive than the bed in the
+attic which he had occupied at the house of the farmer for whom he had
+last worked.
+
+"We've put the feather bed at the bottom, as it's summer," said Miss
+Priscilla.
+
+"All right, ma'am."
+
+"There's one thing you've forgotten, Priscilla," suggested Sophia.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"The gun."
+
+"Oh, yes. I am glad you reminded me of it. Andrew, can you fire off a
+gun?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Andrew, glibly.
+
+He had never done it, but he had seen a gun fired, and always wanted
+to make a trial himself.
+
+"As you are the only menfolks in the house, we should expect you to
+fire at any robbers that tried to enter the house."
+
+"Do you expect any, ma'am?" asked Andy, eagerly.
+
+"No; but some might come. Of course, we cannot fire guns--it would be
+improper, as we are ladies."
+
+"Just so," interrupted Sophia.
+
+"So we shall leave that to you. Do you think you would dare to?"
+
+"Would I dare, is it?" asked Andy. "Shure, I'd be glad of the chance."
+
+"I see you are brave. I'll show you the gun now."
+
+She went to the closet in the corner of the room, and pointed out a
+big, unwieldy musket to Andy. It was in the corner.
+
+"Is it loaded, ma'am?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; it has been loaded for a year or more. John never had occasion
+to use it, and I hope you won't. If any robber should come," added the
+kind-hearted spinster, "perhaps you had better only shoot him in the
+arm, and not kill him."
+
+"Just as you say, ma'am."
+
+"I believe that is all I have to say. Sophia, shall we go to our own
+room?"
+
+"Just so."
+
+So the two maidens withdrew, and Andy was left to his own reflections.
+He undressed himself quickly, and deposited himself in the bed, which
+proved to be very comfortable.
+
+He went to bed, but there was one thing that prevented his going to
+sleep. This was the gun. He had never even had one in his hand, and
+now there was one at his absolute disposal. It made him feel a sense
+of his importance to feel that, upon him, young as he was, devolved
+the duty of defending the house and its occupants from burglary.
+
+"And why not? Shure, I'm 'most a man," reflected Andy. "I can shoot
+off a gun as well as anybody. I wonder will robbers come to-night!"
+thought Andy.
+
+He rather wished they would, so that he might have an excuse for
+firing the gun. However, of this there seemed very little chance, for
+had not Miss Priscilla said that it had been loaded for more than a
+year, and during all that time John had never had occasion to use it?
+This seemed rather discouraging.
+
+"I wonder would they let me go out gunning with it?" thought Andy.
+
+Somehow or other, he could not get his mind off the gun, and, after a
+lapse of an hour, he was as wide awake as ever.
+
+Meanwhile, Priscilla and Sophia were both asleep, not being interested
+in the gun.
+
+Finally it occurred to Andy that he would get up and look at the gun.
+He wanted to make sure that he understood how to fire it. It was
+important that he should do so, he reasoned to himself, for might not
+a burglar come that very night? Then, suppose he was unable to fire
+the gun, and in consequence of his ignorance, both he and the two
+ladies should be murdered in their beds. Of course, this was not to be
+thought of, so Andy got out of bed, and, finding a match, lit the
+candle and put it on the bureau, or chest of drawers, as they called
+it in the country.
+
+Then he stepped softly to the closet and took out the gun.
+
+"Murder! how heavy it is!" thought Andy. "I didn't think it was half
+as heavy. There must be a pound of bullets inside. Now," he said to
+himself, "suppose a big thafe was to poke his dirty head in at the
+winder and say, 'Give me all your money, or I'll break your head'--I'd
+put up with the gun and point at him this way."
+
+Here Andy brought the gun into position with some difficulty and put
+his finger near the trigger.
+
+"And I'd say," continued Andy, rehearsing his part, "'Jump down, you
+thafe, or I'll put a bullet through your head.'"
+
+At that unlucky moment his finger accidentally pulled the trigger, and
+instantly there was a tremendous report, the noise being increased by
+the shattering of the window panes by the bullet.
+
+Probably the charge was too heavy, for the gun "kicked," and Andy, to
+his astonishment, found himself lying flat on his back on the floor,
+with the gun lying beside him.
+
+"Oh, murder!" ejaculated the bewildered boy, "is it dead I am? Shure,
+the divil's in the gun. What will the ould wimmen say? They'll think
+it's bloody burglars gettin' into the house. Shure, I'll slip on my
+pants, for they'll be coming to see what's happened."
+
+He picked himself up, and slipped on his pants. He had scarcely got
+them on when the trembling voice of Miss Priscilla was heard at the
+door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+WHAT FOLLOWED
+
+
+The report of the gun, as may be supposed, had aroused both the ladies
+from their sleep.
+
+"Did you hear it?" ejaculated Miss Priscilla, clutching her sister by
+the arm.
+
+"Just so," muttered Sophia, in bewilderment. "It's the gun."
+
+"Burglars!" exclaimed Sophia, in alarm.
+
+"I am afraid so. What shall we do?"
+
+"Run away," suggested Sophia.
+
+"No, we must not leave the boy to be murdered."
+
+"Perhaps he has shot them?" said Sophia, with a gleam of hope.
+
+"At any rate, it is our duty to go and see what has happened."
+
+"I'm afraid," whimpered Sophia, covering up her head.
+
+"Then you can stay here," said the more courageous Priscilla. "I will
+go."
+
+"And leave me alone?"
+
+"I must."
+
+"I'll go too, then," said Sophia, her teeth chattering with fear.
+
+So they crept out of bed, and throwing shawls over their shoulders,
+advanced into the entry, trembling with excitement and fear.
+
+"If we should find Andy weltering in his gore?" suggested Priscilla.
+
+"Don't say such horrid things, or I shall scream," said her sister.
+
+Then came the tremulous knock mentioned at the close of the last
+chapter.
+
+Andy opened the door in person, and met the gaze of the two Miss
+Grants, Sophia almost ready to drop with fright.
+
+"Do you see any gore, Priscilla?" she asked, tremulously.
+
+"Are you hurt, Andrew?" asked the elder sister.
+
+"No, ma'am."
+
+"Did you fire the gun?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"What made you? Did any burglars try to get in?"
+
+"Not exactly, ma'am," said Andy; "but I thought there might be some."
+
+"Did you see any?"
+
+"Not exactly," said Andy, a little embarrassed; "but I heard a noise."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"Why didn't you wait till they appeared at the window, Andrew?"
+
+"Because, ma'am, they would fire at me first. I wanted to scare 'em
+away."
+
+"Perhaps you were right. You don't see any traces of them outside, do
+you?"
+
+"You can look for yourself, ma'am."
+
+The two ladies went to the window, which as already explained, had
+suffered from the discharge, and peered out timidly, but, of course,
+saw no burglars.
+
+"Are you sure there were any burglars, Andrew?" asked Priscilla.
+
+"No, ma'am, I couldn't swear to it."
+
+"Well, no harm has been done."
+
+"Except breakin' the winder, ma'am."
+
+"Never mind; we will have that mended to-morrow."
+
+"Were you afraid, Andrew?" asked Miss Sophia.
+
+"Not a bit," answered Andy, valiantly. "I ain't afraid of burglars, as
+long as I have a gun. I'm a match for 'em."
+
+"How brave he is!" exclaimed the timid lady. "We might have been
+killed in our beds. I'm glad we hired him, Priscilla."
+
+"As there is nothing more to do, we had better go to bed."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"That's a bully way to get out of a scrape," said Andy to himself, as
+the ladies filed out of his chamber. "I expected they'd scold me.
+Plague take the old gun--it kicks as bad as a mule. Oh, Andy, you're a
+lucky boy to get off so well."
+
+The next day Andy obtained permission to take out the gun in the
+afternoon when his chores were done.
+
+"I want to get used to it, ma'am," he said. "It kicked last night."
+
+"Dear me, did it?" asked Sophia. "I didn't know guns kicked. What do
+they kick with? They haven't got any legs."
+
+Andy explained as well as he could what he meant by the gun's kicking,
+and said it was because it had not been used for a good while, and
+needed to be taken out.
+
+"It needs exercise, just like horses, ma'am," he said.
+
+"That is singular, Andrew," said Priscilla.
+
+"Just so," observed her sister.
+
+"It's a fact, ma'am," said Andy. "It gets skittish, just like
+horses--but if I take it out sometimes, it'll be all right."
+
+"Very well, you may take it, only be careful."
+
+"Oh, I'll be careful, ma'am," said Andy, with alacrity.
+
+"Now, I'll have some fun," he said to himself.
+
+He found a supply of powder and some shot in the closet, and proceeded
+to appropriate them.
+
+"Come back in time for supper, Andrew," said Miss Priscilla.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I'm always on hand at meal times," answered our hero.
+
+"That's because he's hungry," said Sophia, brilliantly.
+
+"You're right, ma'am," said Andy; "my stomach always tells me when
+it's supper time."
+
+"It's as good as a watch," said Priscilla, smiling.
+
+"And a good deal cheaper," observed Sophia, with another brilliant
+idea.
+
+Andy started up the road with his gun over his shoulder. It was his
+intention after going a little distance to strike into the fields, and
+make for some woods not far away, where he thought there would be a
+good chance for birds or squirrels. He hadn't gone many steps before
+he encountered Godfrey Preston, his antagonist of three days previous.
+
+Now, Godfrey hadn't seen or heard anything of Andy since that day. He
+had learned from his mother with great satisfaction that she had
+discharged Mrs. Burke from her employment, as this, he imagined, would
+trouble Andy. But of Andy himself he knew nothing, and was not aware
+that he had already secured a place. When he saw our hero coming
+along, his curiosity led him to stop and find out, if he could, where
+he was going with the gun he carried on his shoulder, and where he
+obtained it. So he looked intently at Andy, waiting for him to speak,
+but Andy preferred to leave that to him.
+
+"Whose gun is that?" asked Godfrey, in the tone of one who was
+entitled to ask the question.
+
+"Shure, it belongs to the owner," said Andy, with a smile.
+
+"Of course, I know that," said Godfrey, impatiently. "I'm not quite a
+fool."
+
+"Not quite," repeated Andy, emphasizing the last word in a way which
+made Godfrey color.
+
+"What do you mean?" he said.
+
+"What do I mane? It was only your words I repeated."
+
+"Then, don't trouble yourself to repeat them--do you hear?"
+
+"Thank you; I won't."
+
+"You didn't tell me whose gun that is."
+
+"No, I didn't."
+
+"Very likely you stole it," said Godfrey, provoked.
+
+"Maybe you'll go and tell the owner."
+
+"How can I when you haven't told me whose it is?"
+
+"No more I did," said Andy with apparent innocence.
+
+"Where are you going with it?"
+
+"Goin' out shootin'."
+
+"So I supposed."
+
+"Did you, now? Then what made you ask?" returned Andy.
+
+"You are an impudent fellow," said Godfrey, provoked.
+
+"I never am impudent to gentlemen," said Andy, pointedly.
+
+"Do you mean to say that I am not a gentleman?" demanded the other,
+angrily.
+
+"Suit yourself," said Andy, coolly.
+
+"You're only an Irish boy."
+
+"Shure, I knew that before. Why can't you tell me some news? I'm an
+Irish boy and I'm proud of the same. I'll never go back on ould
+Ireland."
+
+"The Irish are a low set."
+
+"Are they now? Maybe you never heard of Burke, the great orator."
+
+"What of him?"
+
+"Shure, he was an Irishman; and isn't my name Andy Burke, and wasn't
+he my great-grandfather?"
+
+"He must be proud of his great-grandson," said Godfrey, sarcastically.
+
+"I never axed him, but no doubt you're right. But it's time I was
+goin', or I shan't get any birds. Would you like to come with me?"
+
+"No, I am particular about the company I keep."
+
+"I'm not, or I wouldn't have invited you," said Andy, who was rather
+quicker witted than his opponent.
+
+"I should like to know where he got that gun," said Godfrey to
+himself, following with his eyes the retreating figure of our hero. "I
+am sure that isn't his gun. Ten to one he stole it from somebody."
+
+But Godfrey's curiosity was not destined to be gratified that
+afternoon, as it might have been if he had seen Andy turning into the
+yard of the Misses Grant two hours afterward. He had not shot
+anything, but he had got used to firing the gun, and was not likely to
+be caught again in any such adventure as that recorded in the last
+chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+ANDY'S DEBUT AT SCHOOL
+
+
+The first of September came, and with it came the opening of the fall
+schools. On the first day, when Andy, at work in the yard, saw the
+boys and the girls go by with their books, he felt a longing to go,
+too. He knew very well that his education had been very much
+neglected, and that he knew less of books than a boy of his age ought
+to do.
+
+"I wish I could go to school this term," he said to himself; "but it's
+no use wishin'. Mother needs my wages, and I must keep on workin'."
+
+The same thought had come to the Misses Grant. Andy had been in their
+employ now for six weeks, and by his unfailing good humor and
+readiness to oblige, had won their favor. They felt interested in his
+progress, and, at the same moment that the thought referred to passed
+though Andy's mind, Miss Priscilla said to her sister:
+
+"The fall school begins to-day. There's Godfrey Preston just passed
+with some books under his arm."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"I suppose Andrew would like to be going to school with other boys of
+his age."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"Don't you think we could spare him to go half the day?"
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, with alacrity.
+
+"There isn't so much work to do now as there was in the summer, and he
+could do his chores early in the morning. He could go to school in the
+forenoon and work in the afternoon."
+
+"Just so, Priscilla. Shall we give him less wages?"
+
+"No, I think not. He needs the money to give his mother."
+
+"Call him in and tell him," suggested Sophia.
+
+"It will do at dinner time."
+
+"Just so."
+
+When the dinner was over, and Andy rose from the table, Miss Priscilla
+introduced the subject.
+
+"Are you a good scholar, Andrew?"
+
+"I'm a mighty poor one, ma'am."
+
+"Did you ever study much?"
+
+"No, ma'am, I've had to work ever since I was so high," indicating a
+point about two feet from the ground.
+
+"Dear me," said Sophia, "you must have been very small."
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I was very small of my size."
+
+"I've been thinking, Andrew, that perhaps we could spare you half the
+day, so that you could go to school in the forenoon--you could learn
+something in three hours--should you like it?"
+
+"Would I like it, ma'am? Wouldn't I, though? I don't want to grow up a
+poor, ignorant crathur, hardly able to read and write."
+
+"Then you can go to school to-morrow, and ask the teacher if he will
+take you for half the day. You can get up early, and get your chores
+done before school."
+
+"Oh, yes, ma'am, I can do that easy."
+
+"I think we have some schoolbooks in the house. Some years ago we had
+a nephew stay with us, and go to school. I think his books are still
+in the closet."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am. It'll save me buyin', and I haven't got any money
+to spare."
+
+"We shall give you the same wages, Andrew, though you will work less."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am. You're very kind."
+
+"Try to improve your time in school, as becomes the great-grandson of
+such a distinguished orator."
+
+"I'll try, ma'am," said Andy, looking a little queer at this allusion
+to the great Edmund Burke. In fact, he was ashamed of having deceived
+the kind old ladies, but didn't like now to own up to the deception
+lest they should lose confidence in him. But he determined hereafter
+to speak the truth, and not resort to deception.
+
+The next morning, at twenty minutes of nine, Andy left the house
+provided with books, and joyfully took his way to the schoolhouse,
+which was a quarter of a mile distant. As he ascended the small hill
+on which it stood, he attracted the attention of a group of boys who
+had already arrived. Among them was his old adversary, Godfrey
+Preston.
+
+"Is that Irish boy coming to school?" he said in a tone of disgust.
+
+"What? Andy Burke? I hope so," said Charles Fleming, "he's a good
+fellow."
+
+"He's only an Irish boy," said Godfrey, with a sneer.
+
+"And I am only an American boy," said Charles, good-humoredly.
+
+"You can associate with him if you want to; I shan't," said Godfrey.
+
+"That's where I agree with you, Godfrey," said Ben Travers, who made
+himself rather a toady of Godfrey's.
+
+Andy had now come up, so that Charles Fleming did not reply, but
+called out, cordially:
+
+"Are you coming to school, Andy?"
+
+"Yes," said Andy.
+
+"I'm glad of it."
+
+"Thank you," said Andy. "What's the matter with them fellows," as
+Godfrey and Bill Travers walked off haughtily, tossing their heads.
+
+Charles Fleming laughed.
+
+"They don't think we are good enough for their company," he said.
+
+"I'm not anxious for it," said Andy. "I like yours better."
+
+"I didn't think you could get away from work to come to school. Are
+you working for Miss Grant now?"
+
+"Yes, but she lets me come to school half the day. She's a bully ould
+lady."
+
+"Well, half a loaf's better than no bread. Will you sit with me? I've
+got no one at my desk. Say yes."
+
+"It's just what I'd like, Charlie, but maybe Godfrey Preston wants to
+sit with me. I wouldn't like to disappoint him," said Andy, with sly
+humor.
+
+"Sit with me till he invites you, then."
+
+"That'll be a long day."
+
+They went into the schoolhouse, and Andy deposited his books in the
+desk next to Charlie Fleming's. He couldn't have wished for a better
+or more agreeable companion. Charlie was the son of Dr. Fleming, the
+village physician, and was a general favorite in the town on account
+of his sunny, attractive manner. But, with all his affability, he was
+independent and resolute, if need be. He was one of the leaders of the
+school. Godfrey aspired also to be a leader, and was to some extent on
+account of his father's wealth and high standing, for, as we have
+seen, Colonel Preston was not like his son. Still, it is doubtful
+whether anyone was much attached to Godfrey. He was too selfish in
+disposition, and offensively consequential in manner, to inspire
+devoted friendship. Ben Travers, however, flattered him, and followed
+him about, simply because he was the son of a rich man. Such cases
+occur sometimes among American schoolboys, but generally they are too
+democratic and sensible to attach importance to social distinctions in
+the schoolroom, or in the playground.
+
+When the teacher--a certain Ebenezer Stone, a man of thirty or
+upward--entered, Andy went up to him and asked permission to attend
+school a part of the time. As there had been such cases in former
+terms, no objection was offered by the teacher, and Andy went back to
+his seat, a regularly admitted member of the school.
+
+It was found necessary to put him in a low class to begin with. He was
+naturally bright, but, as we know, his opportunities of learning had
+been very limited, and he could not be expected to know much. But Andy
+was old enough now to understand the worth of knowledge, and he
+devoted himself so earnestly to study that in the course of three
+weeks he was promoted to a higher class. This, however, is
+anticipating.
+
+When recess came, the scholars poured out upon the playround. Charles
+Fleming and Godfrey Preston happened to pass out side by side.
+
+"I see you've taken that Irish boy to sit with you," he said.
+
+"You mean Andy Burke? Yes, I invited him to be my desk-fellow."
+
+"I congratulate you on your high-toned and aristocratic associate,"
+observed Godfrey, sarcastically.
+
+"Thank you. I am glad to have him with me."
+
+"I wouldn't condescend to take him into my seat."
+
+"Nor do I. There isn't any condescension about it."
+
+"He works for a living."
+
+"So does my father, and so does yours. Are you going to cut your
+father's acquaintance for that reason?"
+
+"My father could live without work."
+
+"He doesn't choose to, and that's where he shows his good sense."
+
+"It's a different kind of work from sawing and splitting wood, and
+such low labor."
+
+"It strikes me, Godfrey, that you ought to have been born somewhere
+else than in America. In this country labor is considered honorable.
+You ought to be living under a monarchy."
+
+"I don't believe in associating with inferiors."
+
+"I don't look upon Andy Burke as my inferior," said Charlie. "He is
+poor, to be sure, but he is a good fellow, and helps support his
+mother and sister, as I would do in his place."
+
+"Charlie Fleming," was heard from the playground, "come and choose up
+for baseball."
+
+Without waiting for an answer, Charlie ran to the field alongside the
+schoolhouse, where the game was to take place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+A GAME OF BALL
+
+
+"Come here," said Conrad Fletcher; "come here, Charlie, and choose up
+for a game. We must make haste, or recess will be over."
+
+"All right, Conrad."
+
+The first choice devolved upon Conrad. He chose Ephraim Pinkham, noted
+as a catcher.
+
+"I take Elmer Rhodes," said Charlie.
+
+"John Parker," said Conrad.
+
+"Henry Strauss."
+
+"Godfrey Preston," was Conrad's next choice.
+
+"Can you play, Andy?" asked Charlie.
+
+"Yes," said Andy.
+
+"Then, I take you."
+
+"I've a good mind to resign," said Godfrey, in a low voice, to Ben
+Travers. "I don't fancy playing with that Irish boy."
+
+However, he was too fond of playing to give up his place,
+notwithstanding his antipathy to Andy.
+
+Charlie Fleming's side went in first, and Charlie himself went to the
+bat. The pitcher was Godfrey. He was really a fair pitcher, and
+considered himself very superior. Charlie finally succeeded in hitting
+the ball, but rather feebly, and narrowly escaped losing his first
+base. He saved it, however.
+
+Next at the bat was Elmer Rhodes. He hit one or two fouls, but not a
+fair ball. Finally he was put out on three strikes; meanwhile,
+however, Charlie Fleming got round to third base. Henry Strauss
+succeeded in striking the ball, but it was caught by center field,
+rapidly sent to first base, before Henry could reach it, then thrown
+to the catcher in time to prevent Charlie Fleming from getting in. He
+ran half-way to home base, but seeing his danger, ran back to third
+base. Next Andy took the bat.
+
+"Knock me in, Andy," called out Charlie Fleming.
+
+"All right" said Andy, quietly.
+
+"Not if I can prevent it," said Godfrey to himself, and he determined
+by sending poor balls, to get our hero out on three strikes. The first
+ball, therefore, he sent about six feet to the right of the batter.
+Andy stood in position, but, of course, was far too wise to attempt
+hitting any such ball. The next ball went several feet above his head.
+Of this, too, he took no notice. The third would have hit him if he
+had not dodged.
+
+"Why don't you knock at the balls?" asked Godfrey.
+
+"I will, when you give better ones," said Andy, coolly.
+
+"I don't believe you know how to bat," said Godfrey, with a sneer.
+
+"I don't believe you know how to pitch," returned Andy.
+
+"How's that?" sending another ball whizzing by his left ear.
+
+"I want them waist-high," said Andy. "My waist is about two feet lower
+than my ears."
+
+Godfrey now resolved to put in a ball waist-high, but so swiftly that
+Andy could not hit it; but he had never seen Andy play. Our hero had a
+wonderfully quick eye and steady hand, and struck the ball with such
+force to left field, that not only Charlie Fleming got in, without
+difficulty, but Andy himself made a home run.
+
+"That's a splendid hit," exclaimed Charlie, with enthusiasm. "I didn't
+think you could play so well."
+
+"I've played before to-day," said Andy, composedly. "I told you I
+would get you in, and I meant what I said."
+
+Godfrey looked chagrined at the result. He meant to demonstrate that
+Andy was no player, but had only contributed to his brilliant success;
+for, had he not sent in so swift a ball, the knock would not have been
+so forcible.
+
+As there were but six on a side, two outs were considered all out.
+
+"Who will catch?" asked Charlie Fleming; "I want to pitch."
+
+"I will," said Andy.
+
+"All right! If you can catch as you can bat, we'll cut down their
+score."
+
+Andy soon showed that he was no novice at catching. He rarely let a
+ball pass him. When Godfrey's turn came to bat, one was already out,
+and Andy determined to put Godfrey out if it was a possible thing. One
+strike had been called, when Godfrey struck a foul which was almost
+impossible to catch. But now Andy ran, made a bound into the air, and
+caught it--a very brilliant piece of play, by which Godfrey and his
+side were put out. The boys on both sides applauded, for it was a
+piece of brilliant fielding which not one of them was capable of. That
+is, all applauded but Godfrey. He threw down his bat spitefully, and
+said to Fleming:
+
+"You didn't give me good balls."
+
+"I gave you much better than you gave Andy," said Charlie.
+
+"That's so!" chimed in two other boys.
+
+"I won't play any more," said Godfrey.
+
+Just then the bell rang, so that the game was brought to a close. Andy
+received the compliments of the boys on his brilliant playing. He
+received them modestly, and admitted that he probably couldn't make
+such a catch again. It was very disagreeable to Godfrey to hear Andy
+praised. He was rather proud of his ball-playing, and he saw that Andy
+was altogether his superior, at any rate in the opinion of the boys.
+However, he ingeniously contrived to mingle a compliment with a sneer.
+
+"You're more used to baseball than to books," he said.
+
+"True for you," said Andy.
+
+"You're a head taller than any of the boys in your class."
+
+"I know that," said Andy. "I haven't been to school as much as you."
+
+"I should be ashamed if I didn't know more."
+
+"So you ought," said Andy, "for you've been to school all your life. I
+hope to know more soon."
+
+"Anyway, you can play ball," said Charlie Fleming.
+
+"I'd rather be a good scholar."
+
+"I'll help you, if you want any help."
+
+"Thank you, Charlie."
+
+They had now entered the schoolroom, and Andy took up his book and
+studied hard. He was determined to rise to a higher class as soon as
+possible, for it was not agreeable to him to reflect that he was the
+oldest and largest boy in his present class.
+
+"Very well," said the teacher, when his recitation was over. "If you
+continue to recite in this way, you will soon be promoted."
+
+"I'll do my best, sir," said Andy, who listened to these words with
+pleasure.
+
+"I wish you were coming in the afternoon, too, Andy," said his friend,
+Charlie Fleming, as they walked home together.
+
+"So do I, Charlie, but I must work for my mother."
+
+"That's right, Andy; I'd do the same in your place. I haven't such
+foolish ideas about work as Godfrey Preston."
+
+"He ain't very fond of me," said Andy, laughing.
+
+"No; nor of anybody else. He only likes Godfrey Preston."
+
+"We got into a fight the first day I ever saw him."
+
+"What was it about?"
+
+"He called my mother names, and hit me. So I knocked him flat."
+
+"You served him right. He's disgustingly conceited. Nobody likes him."
+
+"Ben Travers goes around with him all the time."
+
+"Ben likes him because he is rich. If he should lose his property,
+you'd see how soon he would leave him. That isn't a friend worth
+having."
+
+"I've got one consolation," said Andy, laughing; "nobody likes me for
+my money."
+
+"But someone likes you for yourself, Andy," said Charlie.
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Myself, to be sure."
+
+"And I like you as much, Charlie," said Andy, warmly. "You're ten
+times as good a fellow as Godfrey."
+
+"I hope so," said Charlie. "That isn't saying very much, Andy."
+
+So the friendship was cemented, nor did it end there. Charlie spoke of
+Andy's good qualities at home, and some time afterward Andy was
+surprised by an invitation to spend the evening at Dr. Fleming's. He
+felt a little bashful, but finally went--nor was he at all sorry for
+so doing. The whole family was a delightful one, and Andy was welcomed
+as a warm friend of Charlie's, and, in the pleasant atmosphere of the
+doctor's fireside, he quite forgot that there was one who looked down
+upon him as an inferior being.
+
+Dr. Fleming had himself been a poor boy. By a lucky chance--or
+Providence, rather--he had been put in the way of obtaining an
+education, and he was not disposed now, in his prosperity, to forget
+his days of early struggle.
+
+Andy found that, in spite of the three hours taken up at school, he
+was able to do all that was required of him by the Misses Grant. They
+were glad to hear of his success at school, and continued to pay him
+five dollars a week for his services. This money he regularly carried
+to his mother, after paying for the new clothes, of which he stood so
+much in need.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+A LITTLE DIFFICULTY
+
+
+It has already been said that Godfrey Preston was a conceited and
+arrogant boy. He had a very high idea of his own importance, and
+expected that others would acknowledge it; but he was not altogether
+successful. He would like to have had Andy Burke look up to him as a
+member of a superior class, and in that case might have condescended
+to patronize him, as a chieftain might in the case of a humble
+retainer. But Andy didn't want to be patronized by Godfrey. He never
+showed by his manner that he felt beneath him socially, and this
+greatly vexed Godfrey.
+
+"His mother used to iron at our house," he said to Ben Travers one
+day; "but my mother discharged her. I don't see why the boys treat him
+as an equal. I won't, for my part."
+
+"Of course, he isn't your equal," said the subservient Ben. "That's a
+good joke."
+
+"He acts as if he was," said Godfrey, discontentedly.
+
+"It's only his impudence."
+
+"You are right," said Godfrey, rather liking this explanation. "He is
+one of the most impudent boys I know. I wish my father would send me
+to a fashionable school, where I shouldn't meet such fellows. That's
+the worst of these public schools--you meet all sorts of persons in
+them."
+
+"Of course you do."
+
+"I suppose this Burke will be a hod-carrier, or something of that
+kind, when he is a man."
+
+"While you are a member of Congress."
+
+"Very likely," said Godfrey, loftily; "and he will claim that he was
+an old schoolmate of mine. It is disgusting."
+
+"Of course it is. However, we needn't notice him."
+
+"I don't mean to."
+
+But in the course of the next week there was an occurrence which
+compelled Godfrey to "notice" his detested schoolfellow.
+
+Among the scholars was a very pleasant boy of twelve, named Alfred
+Parker. He was the son of a poor widow, and was universally liked for
+his amiable and obliging disposition. One morning, before school, he
+was engaged in some game which required him to run. He accidentally
+ran against Godfrey, who was just coming up the hill, with
+considerable force. Now, it was very evident that it was wholly
+unintentional; but Godfrey was greatly incensed.
+
+"What do you mean by that, you little scamp?" he exclaimed, furiously.
+
+"Excuse me, Godfrey; I didn't mean to run into you."
+
+"That don't go down."
+
+"Indeed, I didn't. I didn't see you."
+
+"I can't help it. You ought to have been more careful. Take that, to
+make you more careful."
+
+As he said this, he seized him by the collar, and, tripping him, laid
+him flat on his back.
+
+"For shame, Godfrey!" said another boy standing by; but as it was a
+small boy, Godfrey only answered:
+
+"If you say that again, I'll serve you the same way."
+
+Alfred tried to get up, but Godfrey put his knee on his breast.
+
+"Let me up, Godfrey," said Alfred, piteously. "I can't breathe. You
+hurt me."
+
+"I'll teach you to run into me," said the bully.
+
+"I didn't mean to."
+
+"I want to make sure of your not doing it again."
+
+"Do let me up," said Alfred.
+
+In return, Godfrey only pressed more heavily, and the little fellow
+began to cry. But help was near at hand. Andy Burke happened to come
+up the hill just then, and saw what was going on. He had a natural
+chivalry that prompted him always to take the weaker side. But besides
+this, he liked Alfred for his good qualities, and disliked Godfrey for
+his bad ones. He did not hesitate a moment, therefore, but ran up,
+and, seizing Godfrey by the collar with a powerful grasp, jerked him
+on his back in the twinkling of an eye. Then, completely turning the
+tables, he put his knee on Godfrey's breast, and said:
+
+"Now, you know how it is yourself. How do you like it?"
+
+"Let me up," demanded Godfrey, furiously.
+
+"That's what Alfred asked you to do," said Andy, coolly. "Why didn't
+you do it?"
+
+"Because I didn't choose," answered the prostrate boy, almost foaming
+at the mouth with rage and humiliation.
+
+"Then I don't choose to let you up."
+
+"You shall suffer for this," said Godfrey, struggling, but in vain.
+
+"Not from your hands. Oh, you needn't try so hard to get up. I can
+hold you here all day if I choose."
+
+"You're a low Irish boy!"
+
+"You're lower than I am just now," said Andy.
+
+"Let me up."
+
+"Why didn't you let Alfred up?"
+
+"He ran against me."
+
+"Did he mean to?"
+
+"No, I didn't, Andy," said Alfred, who was standing near. "I told
+Godfrey so, but he threw me over, and pressed on my breast so hard
+that it hurt me."
+
+"In this way," said Andy, increasing the pressure on his prostrate
+enemy.
+
+Godfrey renewed his struggles, but in vain.
+
+"Please let him up now, Andy," said Alfred, generously.
+
+"If he'll promise not to touch you any more, I will."
+
+"I won't promise," said Godfrey. "I won't promise anything to a low
+beggar."
+
+"Then you must feel the low beggar's knee," said Andy.
+
+"You wouldn't have got me down if I had been looking. You got the
+advantage of me."
+
+"Did I? Well, then, I'll give you a chance."
+
+Andy rose to his feet, and Godfrey, relieved from the pressure, arose,
+too. No sooner was he up than he flew like an enraged tiger at our
+hero, but Andy was quite his equal in strength, and, being cool, had
+the advantage.
+
+The result was that in a few seconds he found himself once more on his
+back.
+
+"You see," said Andy, "it isn't safe for you to attack me. I won't
+keep you down any longer, but if you touch Alfred again, I'll give you
+something worse."
+
+Godfrey arose from the ground, and shook his fist at Andy.
+
+"I'll make you remember this," he said.
+
+"I want you to remember it yourself," said Andy.
+
+Godfrey didn't answer, but made his way to the schoolroom, sullenly.
+
+"Thank you, Andy," said Alfred, gratefully, "for saving me from
+Godfrey. He hurt me a good deal."
+
+"He's a brute," said Andy, warmly. "Don't be afraid of him, Alfred,
+but come and tell me if he touches you again. I'll give him something
+he won't like."
+
+"You must be very strong, Andy," said the little boy, admiringly. "You
+knocked him over just as easy."
+
+Andy laughed.
+
+"Did you ever know an Irish boy that couldn't fight?" he asked. "I'm
+better with my fists than with my brains, Alfred."
+
+"That's because you never went to school much. You're getting on fast,
+Andy."
+
+"I'm tryin', Alfred," he said. "It's a shame for a big boy like me not
+to know as much as a little boy like you."
+
+"You'll soon get ahead of me, Andy."
+
+Meanwhile Godfrey had taken his place in school, feeling far from
+comfortable. He was outraged by the thought that Andy, whom he
+regarded as so much beneath him, should have had the audacity to throw
+him down, and put his knees on his breast. It made him grind his teeth
+when he thought of it. What should he do about it? He wanted to be
+revenged in some way, and he meant to be.
+
+Finally he decided to report Andy to the teacher, and, if possible,
+induce him to punish him.
+
+"The teacher knows that my father's a man of influence," he said to
+himself. "He will believe me before that ragamuffin. If he don't, I'll
+try to get him turned away."
+
+When, therefore, the bell rang for recess, and the rest of the
+scholars hurried to the playground, Godfrey lingered behind. He waited
+till all the boys were gone, and then went up to the teacher.
+
+"Well, Godfrey, what is it?" asked the master.
+
+"Mr. Stone, I want to make a complaint against Andrew Burke," said
+Godfrey.
+
+"What has he done?"
+
+"He is a brute," said Godfrey, in an excited manner. "He dared to come
+up behind my back before school began, and knock me down. Then he put
+his knee on my chest, and wouldn't let me up."
+
+"What made him do it?"
+
+"He knows I don't like him, and am not willing to associate with him."
+
+"Was that all the reason?" asked the teacher, keenly.
+
+"I suppose so," said Godfrey.
+
+"I was not aware that Andy Burke was quarrelsome," said the teacher.
+"He behaves well in school."
+
+"Because he knows he must."
+
+"Very well; I will inquire into the matter after recess."
+
+Godfrey went back to his seat, triumphant. He didn't doubt that his
+enemy would be severely punished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+GODFREY'S REBELLION
+
+
+Having made his complaint, Godfrey waited impatiently for the recess
+to close, in order that he might see retribution fall upon the head of
+Andy. He had not long to wait. Meanwhile, however, he was missed in
+the playground.
+
+"Where's Godfrey?" asked one of the boys.
+
+"He don't want to come out. He got a licking from Andy Burke."
+
+"I ain't much sorry. It'll cure him of some of his airs."
+
+"I don't know about that. It comes natural to him to put on airs."
+
+"If anybody has insulted Godfrey," remarked Ben Travers, his toady,
+"he had better look out for himself."
+
+"Do you hear that, Andy? Ben Travers says you must look out for
+yourself."
+
+"Who's goin' to punish me?" asked Andy. "If it's Ben, let him come
+on."
+
+But Ben showed no disposition to "come on." He could talk and
+threaten, but when words were to be succeeded by blows he never was on
+hand. In fact he was a coward, and ought to have kept quiet, but it is
+just that class that are usually most noisy.
+
+Andy had no idea that Godfrey would complain to the teacher in a
+matter where he was so clearly in the wrong, nor would he if he had
+not relied upon his father's position to carry him through.
+
+"Mr. Stone is a poor man," he thought, "and he won't dare to take the
+part of a low Irish boy against the only son and heir of Colonel
+Preston. He knows on which side his bread is buttered, and he won't be
+such a fool as to offend my father."
+
+While he said this he knew that it was very doubtful whether his
+father would espouse his cause, but then Mr. Stone would probably
+suppose he would, which would answer the same purpose on the present
+occasion.
+
+When Andy re-entered the schoolroom with the rest of the boys at the
+termination of recess, he saw Godfrey in his seat. The latter darted
+at him a glance of malicious triumph.
+
+When the noise of entering was over, Mr. Stone said:
+
+"Andrew Burke, come forward!"
+
+Considerably surprised, Andy came forward, and looked up with a modest
+self-possession into the teacher's face.
+
+"A complaint has been entered against you, Andrew," Mr. Stone began.
+
+"What is it, sir?" asked Andy.
+
+"You are charged by Godfrey Preston with violently assaulting and
+throwing him down, just before school commenced. Is this true?"
+
+"Yes, sir," answered Andy, promptly.
+
+"You are charged with kneeling down upon him, and preventing his
+getting up."
+
+"That is true," said Andy, quite composedly.
+
+"I am surprised that you should have acted in this manner," said Mr.
+Stone. "I did not think you quarrelsome or a bully."
+
+"I hope I am not," said Andy. "Did Godfrey tell you why I knocked him
+over?"
+
+"He said it was because he would not associate with you."
+
+Andy laughed.
+
+"I hope you'll excuse my laughing, sir," he said, respectfully; "but
+I'd rather associate with any of the boys than with Godfrey. I like
+him least of all."
+
+"Then, that is the reason you attacked him, is it?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then, what was it?"
+
+"If you don't mind, sir, I'd like to have you ask Alfred Parker."
+
+"Alfred Parker," called out the teacher, "come forward."
+
+Alfred obeyed.
+
+"Do you know why Andrew attacked Godfrey Preston?"
+
+"Yes, sir; it was on my account."
+
+"On your account! Explain."
+
+"This morning, before school, I was playing with another boy, and
+accidentally ran into Godfrey. He got mad, and threw me over
+violently. Then he pressed his knee on my breast till I could hardly
+breathe. I begged him to let me up, but he would not, though he knew
+that it was only an accident. While I was lying on the ground, Andy
+Burke came up. He no sooner saw me than he ran up, and threw Godfrey
+off, and got on him in the same manner, and I think he served him
+right."
+
+As he uttered these last words, Godfrey scowled ominously, but Andy's
+face brightened up. He was glad that Alfred was brave enough to speak
+up for him.
+
+"This alters the case considerably," said the teacher. "Is there any
+other boy who witnessed the affair, and can substantiate what has been
+said? If so, let him raise his hand."
+
+Herman Reynolds raised his hand.
+
+"Well, Herman, what do you know about it? Were you present?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I was. It was just as Alfred said it was."
+
+"What have you to say, Godfrey?" asked Mr. Stone, sternly.
+
+"I don't mean to be insulted by an Irish boy," said Godfrey,
+haughtily.
+
+"Remember where you are, sir, and speak in a more becoming manner. Did
+you attack Alfred Parker, as he says?"
+
+"He had no business to run into me."
+
+"Answer my question."
+
+"Yes, I did."
+
+"And did you kneel on his breast?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oblige me by saying, 'Yes, sir.'"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Godfrey, reluctantly.
+
+"Why do you complain, then, of being treated in a similar manner by
+Andrew?"
+
+"He has no business to touch me."
+
+"If he had not interfered when he saw you maltreating his young
+schoolfellow, I should have been ashamed of him," said the teacher.
+
+This so far chimed in with the sentiment of the boys that they almost
+involuntarily applauded; and one boy, arising, exclaimed:
+
+"Three cheers for the teacher!"
+
+The three cheers were given with a will, and, though they were,
+strictly speaking, out of order, Mr. Stone was a sensible man, and the
+only notice he took of it was to say:
+
+"Thank you, boys. I am glad to find that you agree with me on this
+point, and that your sympathies are with the weak and oppressed.
+Godfrey Preston, your complaint is dismissed. I advise you to cease
+acting the part of a bully, or you may get another similar lesson.
+Andrew, when you exert your strength, I hope it will always be in as
+just a cause. You may take your seat, and you also, Alfred."
+
+The boys would have applauded again, but Mr. Stone said, waving his
+hand:
+
+"Once is enough, boys. Time is precious, and we must now go on with
+our lessons. First class in arithmetic."
+
+Godfrey had been equally surprised and angry at the turn that affairs
+had taken. He was boiling with indignation, and nervously moved about
+in his seat. After a slight pause, having apparently taken his
+determination, he took his cap, and walked toward the door.
+
+Mr. Stone's attention was drawn to him.
+
+"Where are you going, Godfrey?" he demanded, quickly.
+
+"Home," said Godfrey.
+
+"You will wait till the end of school."
+
+"I would rather not, sir."
+
+"It makes no difference what you would rather do, or rather not do.
+Are you sick?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Then you have no good cause for leaving, and I shall not permit you
+to do so."
+
+"I have been insulted, sir, and I don't wish to stay."
+
+"By whom?" demanded the teacher, sharply.
+
+Godfrey would like to have said, "By you," but he saw the teacher's
+keen eye fixed upon him, and he didn't dare to do it. He hesitated.
+
+"By whom?" repeated Mr. Stone.
+
+"By Andrew Burke."
+
+"That is no good reason for your leaving school, or would not be, if
+it were true, but it is not. He has only meted out to you the same
+punishment you undertook to inflict upon a smaller boy. Take your
+seat."
+
+"My father will take me away from school," said Godfrey, angrily.
+
+"We shall none of us mourn for your absence. Take your seat."
+
+This last remark of the teacher still further incensed Godfrey, and
+led him temporarily to forget himself. Though he had been bidden to
+take his seat, he resolved to leave the schoolroom, and made a rush
+for the door. But Mr. Stone was there before him. He seized Godfrey by
+the collar and dragged him, shaking him as he proceeded, to his seat,
+on which he placed him with some emphasis.
+
+"That is the way I treat rebels," he said. "You forget yourself,
+Preston. The next time you make up your mind to resist my commands,
+count in advance on a much severer lesson."
+
+Godfrey was pale with passion, and his hands twitched convulsively. He
+only wished he had Mr. Stone in his power for five minutes. He would
+treat him worse than he did Alfred Parker. But a boy in a passion is
+not a very pleasant spectacle. It is enough to say that Godfrey was
+compelled to stay in school for the remainder of the forenoon. As soon
+as he could get away, he ran home, determined to enlist his mother in
+his cause.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+MR. STONE IS CALLED TO ACCOUNT
+
+
+At home Godfrey gave a highly colored narrative of the outrageous
+manner in which he had been abused, for so he chose to represent it.
+He gave this account to his mother, for his father was not at home.
+Indeed, he was absent for a day or two in a distant city.
+
+Mrs. Preston was indignant.
+
+"It is an outrage, Godfrey," she said, compressing her thin lips. "How
+did Mr. Stone dare to treat you in this way?"
+
+"I was surprised, myself," said Godfrey.
+
+"Had he no more respect for your father's prominent position?"
+
+"It looks as if he didn't."
+
+"He is evidently unfit to keep the school. I shall try to persuade
+your father to have him turned away."
+
+"I wish he might be," said Godfrey. "It would teach him to treat me
+with proper respect. Anybody would think that Irish boy was the son of
+the most important man in town."
+
+Both Godfrey and his mother appeared to take it for granted that a
+teacher should treat his pupils according to their social position.
+This is certainly very far from proper, as all my youthful readers
+will, I hope, agree.
+
+"I don't want to go back to school this afternoon, mother," said
+Godfrey.
+
+"I don't wonder," said his mother. "I will tell you what I will do. I
+will send a letter to Mr. Stone by you, asking him to call here this
+evening. I will then take occasion to express my opinion of his
+conduct."
+
+"That's good, mother," said Godfrey, joyfully.
+
+He knew that his mother had a sharp tongue, and he longed to hear his
+mother "give it" to the teacher whom he hated.
+
+"Then, you think I had better go to school this afternoon?"
+
+"Yes, with the note. If Mr. Stone does not apologize, you need not go
+to-morrow. I will go upstairs and write it at once."
+
+The note was quickly written, and, putting it carefully in his inside
+pocket, Godfrey went to school. As he entered the schoolroom he
+stepped up to the desk and handed the note to Mr. Stone.
+
+"Here is a note from my mother," he said, superciliously.
+
+"Very well," said the teacher, taking it gravely.
+
+As it was not quite time to summon the pupils, he opened it at once.
+
+This was what he read:
+
+
+    "MR. STONE: Sir--My son Godfrey informs me that you have
+    treated him in a very unjust manner, for which I find it
+    impossible to account. I shall be glad if you can find time
+    to call at my house this evening, in order that I may hear
+    from your lips an explanation of the occurrence. Yours, in
+    haste,
+                                       "Lucinda Preston."
+
+
+"Preston," said Mr. Stone, after reading this note, "you may say to
+your mother that I will call this evening."
+
+He did not appear in the least disturbed by the contents of the note
+he had received from the richest and--in her own eyes--the most
+important lady in the village. In fact, he had a large share of
+self-respect and independence, and was not likely to submit to
+browbeating from anyone. He tried to be just in his treatment of the
+scholars under his charge, and if he ever failed, it was from
+misunderstanding or ignorance, not from design. In the present
+instance he felt that he had done right, and resolved to maintain the
+justice of his conduct.
+
+Nothing of importance occurred in the afternoon. Godfrey was very
+quiet and orderly. He felt that he could afford to wait. With
+malicious joy, he looked forward to the scolding Mr. Stone was to get
+from his mother.
+
+"He won't dare to talk to her," he said to himself. "I hope she'll
+make him apologize to me. He ought to do it before the school."
+
+Evidently Godfrey had a very inadequate idea of the teacher's pluck,
+if he thought such a thing possible.
+
+School was dismissed, and Godfrey went home. He dropped a hint to Ben
+Travers, that his mother was going "to haul Mr. Stone over the coals,"
+as he expressed it.
+
+"Are you going to be there?" asked Ben, when Godfrey had finished.
+
+"Yes," said Godfrey. "It'll be my turn then."
+
+"Perhaps Mr. Stone will have something to say," said Ben, doubtfully.
+
+"He won't dare to," said Godfrey, confidently. "He knows my father
+could get him kicked out of school."
+
+"He's rather spunky, the master is," said Ben, who, toady as he was,
+understood the character of Mr. Stone considerably better than Godfrey
+did.
+
+"I'll tell you all about it to-morrow morning," said Godfrey.
+
+"All right."
+
+"I expect he'll apologize to me for what he did."
+
+"Maybe he will," answered Ben, but he thought it highly improbable.
+
+"Did you give my note to Mr. Stone?" asked his mother.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"He said he'd come around."
+
+"How did he appear?"
+
+"He looked a little nervous," said Godfrey, speaking not according to
+facts, but according to his wishes.
+
+"I thought so," said Mrs. Preston, with a look of satisfaction. "He
+will find that he has made a mistake in treating you so outrageously."
+
+"Give it to him right and left, mother," said Godfrey, with more force
+than elegance.
+
+"You might express yourself more properly, my son," said Mrs. Preston.
+"I shall endeavor to impress upon his mind the impropriety of his
+conduct."
+
+At half-past seven, Mr. Stone rang the bell at Mrs. Preston's door,
+and was ushered in without delay.
+
+"Good-evening, Mrs. Preston," he said, bowing. "Your son brought me a
+note this afternoon, requesting me to call. I have complied with your
+request."
+
+"Be seated, Mr. Stone," said the lady frigidly, not offering her hand.
+
+"Thank you," said the teacher, with equal ceremony, and did as
+invited.
+
+"I suppose you can guess the object of my request," said Mrs. Preston.
+
+"I think you stated it in your note."
+
+"I desire an explanation of the manner in which you treated my son
+this forenoon, Mr. Stone."
+
+"Pardon me, madam; your son is in the room."
+
+"Well, sir?"
+
+"I decline discussing the matter before him."
+
+"I cannot understand why you should object to his presence."
+
+"I am his teacher, and he is subject to my authority. You apparently
+desire to find fault with the manner in which I have exercised that
+authority. It is improper that the discussion upon this point should
+take place before him."
+
+"May I stay in the room, mother?" asked Godfrey, who was alarmed lest
+he should miss the spectacle of Mr. Stone's humiliation.
+
+"I really don't see why not," returned his mother.
+
+"Madam," said Mr. Stone, rising, "I will bid you good-evening."
+
+"What, sir; before we have spoken on the subject?"
+
+"I distinctly decline to speak before your son, for the reasons
+already given."
+
+"This is very singular, sir. However, I will humor your whims.
+Godfrey, you may leave the room."
+
+"Can't I stay?"
+
+"I am compelled to send you out."
+
+Godfrey went out, though with a very ill grace.
+
+"Now, madam," said the teacher, "I have no objection to telling you
+that I first reprimanded your son for brutal treatment of a younger
+schoolmate, and then forcibly carried him back to his seat, when he
+endeavored to leave the schoolroom without my permission."
+
+It was Mrs. Preston's turn to be surprised. She had expected to
+overawe the teacher, and instead of that found him firmly and
+independently defending his course.
+
+"Mr. Stone," she said, "my son tells me that you praised an Irish boy
+in your school for a violent and brutal assault which he made upon
+him."
+
+"I did not praise him for that. I praised him for promptly interfering
+to prevent Godfrey from abusing a boy smaller and younger than
+himself."
+
+"Godfrey had good cause for punishing the boy you refer to. He acted
+in self-defense."
+
+"He has doubtless misrepresented the affair to you, madam, as he did
+to me."
+
+"You take this Andrew Burke's word against his?"
+
+"I form my judgment upon the testimony of an eyewitness, and from what
+I know of your son's character."
+
+"From your own statement, this low Irish boy----"
+
+"To whom do you refer, madam?"
+
+"To the Irish boy."
+
+"I have yet to learn that he is low."
+
+"Do you mean to compare him with my son?"
+
+"In wealth, no. Otherwise, you mustn't blame me for saying that I hold
+him entirely equal in respectability, and in some important points his
+superior."
+
+"Really, sir, your language is most extraordinary."
+
+At this moment there was an interruption. Godfrey had been listening
+at the keyhole, but finding that difficult, had opened the door
+slightly, but in his interest managed to stumble against it. The door
+flew open, and he fell forward upon his knees on the carpet of the
+sitting-room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+MRS. PRESTON'S DISCOMFITURE
+
+
+Godfrey rose to his feet, red with mortification. His mother looked
+disconcerted. Mr. Stone said nothing, but glanced significantly from
+Godfrey to Mrs. Preston.
+
+"What is the matter, Godfrey?" she asked, rather sharply.
+
+"It was an accident," said Godfrey, rather sheepishly.
+
+"You can go out and shut the door, and take care not to let such an
+accident happen again. For some unknown reason, Mr. Stone prefers that
+you should not be present, and, therefore, you must go."
+
+For once, Godfrey found nothing to say, but withdrew in silence.
+
+"You appear to have formed a prejudice against Godfrey, Mr. Stone,"
+said Mrs. Preston.
+
+"I may have formed an unfavorable judgment of him on some points,"
+said the teacher. "I judge of him by his conduct."
+
+"To say that Andrew Burke is his superior is insulting to him and his
+family, as well as ludicrous."
+
+"I beg pardon, Mrs. Preston, but I must dissent from both your
+statements. Andrew Burke possesses some excellent qualities in which
+Godfrey is deficient."
+
+"He is a poor working boy."
+
+"He is none the worse for that."
+
+"He should remember his position, and treat my son with proper
+respect."
+
+"I venture to say that Godfrey will receive all the respect to which
+he is entitled. May I ask if you expect him to be treated with
+deference, because his father is richer than those of the other boys?"
+
+"It seems to me only proper."
+
+"Do you expect me to treat him any better on that account?"
+
+"I think my son's social position should command respect."
+
+"Then, Mrs. Preston, I entirely disagree with you," said Mr. Stone,
+firmly. "As a teacher, I have nothing whatever to do with the social
+position of the children who come to me as pupils. From me a poor boy
+will receive the same instruction, and the same treatment precisely as
+the son of rich parents. If he behaves as he should, he will always
+find in me a friend, as well as a teacher. Your son Godfrey shall have
+no just complaint to make of my treatment. I will give him credit for
+good conduct and faithful study, but no more than to Andrew Burke, or
+to any other pupil under the same circumstances."
+
+"Mr. Stone, I am surprised at your singular style of talking. You wish
+to do away with all social distinctions."
+
+"I certainly do, madam, in my schoolroom, at least. There must be
+social differences, I am aware. We cannot all be equally rich or
+honored, but whatever may be the world's rule, I mean to maintain
+strict impartiality in my schoolroom."
+
+"Will you require Andy Burke to apologize to Godfrey?"
+
+"Why should I?"
+
+"For his violent assault upon him."
+
+"Certainly not. He was justified in his conduct."
+
+"If my son was doing wrong, the Irish boy, instead of interfering,
+should have waited till you came, and then reported the matter to
+you."
+
+"And, meanwhile, stood by and seen Alfred Parker inhumanly treated?"
+
+"I presume the matter has been greatly exaggerated."
+
+"I do not, madam."
+
+"Do I understand that you decline to make reparation to my son?"
+
+"Reparation for what?"
+
+"For the manner in which he has been treated."
+
+"I must have talked to little purpose, if I have not made it clear
+that your son has only received his deserts. Of course, he is entitled
+to no reparation, as you term it."
+
+"Then, Mr. Stone," said Mrs. Preston, her thin lips compressed with
+indignation, "since Godfrey cannot meet with fair treatment, I shall
+be compelled to withdraw him from your school."
+
+"That must be as you please, madam," said the teacher, quite unmoved
+by the threatened withdrawal of his richest pupil.
+
+"I shall report to Colonel Preston your treatment of his son."
+
+"I have no objection, madam."
+
+"You are pursuing a very unwise course in alienating your wealthiest
+patrons."
+
+"I have no patrons, madam," said Mr. Stone, proudly. "I return
+faithful service for the moderate wages I receive, and the obligation,
+if there is any, is on the part of those whose children I instruct."
+
+"Really," thought Mrs. Preston, "this man is very independent for a
+poor teacher."
+
+She resolved upon another shot, not in the best of taste.
+
+"You must not be surprised, Mr. Stone," she said, "if the school
+trustees refuse to employ you again."
+
+"You mistake me utterly," said the teacher, with dignity, "if you
+suppose that any such threat or consideration will make me swerve from
+my duty. However, though I did not propose to mention it, I will state
+that this is the last term I shall teach in this village. I have been
+engaged at double the salary in a neighboring city."
+
+Mrs. Preston was disappointed to hear this. It was certainly vexatious
+that the man who had treated her son with so little consideration, who
+had actually taken the part of a working boy against him, should be
+promoted to a better situation. She had thought to make him feel that
+he was in her power, but she now saw that her anticipations were not
+to be realized.
+
+As she did not speak, Mr. Stone considered the interview closed, and
+rose.
+
+"Good-evening, Mrs. Preston," he said.
+
+"Good-evening, sir," she responded, coldly.
+
+He bowed and withdrew.
+
+When Godfrey, who was not far off, though he had not thought it best
+to play the part of eavesdropper again, heard the door close, he
+hurried into the room.
+
+"Well, mother, what did he say?" he inquired, eagerly.
+
+"He obstinately refused to make any reparation to you."
+
+"Did you tell him what you thought of his treatment of me?" said
+Godfrey, rather surprised that his mother's remonstrance had produced
+no greater effect.
+
+"Yes, I expressed my opinion very plainly. I must say that he's a very
+impudent man. The idea of a poor teacher putting on such airs!"
+continued Mrs. Preston, tossing her head.
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"That that Irish boy was superior to you."
+
+"I'd like to knock him over," said Godfrey, wrathfully.
+
+Mrs. Preston was a lady, and it is not to be supposed that she should
+join in her son's wish. Still, it did not occur to her that she should
+mourn very much if Mr. Stone met with a reverse. She would like to see
+his pride humbled, not reflecting that her own was greater and less
+justifiable.
+
+"You ought to have told him that he would lose his school," said
+Godfrey. "That would have frightened him, for he is a poor man, and
+depends on the money he gets for teaching."
+
+"He is not going to teach here after this term."
+
+"Good! Did he tell you that?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He is afraid of me, after all."
+
+"You are mistaken, Godfrey. He is offered considerably higher pay in
+another place."
+
+Godfrey's countenance fell. It was as disagreeable to him as to his
+mother to learn that Mr. Stone was to be promoted in his profession.
+
+"Shall I have to go to school again, mother?" he asked, after a pause.
+
+"No," said Mrs. Preston, with energy. "Upon that I have determined.
+While Mr. Stone is teacher, you shall not go back. I will take care to
+let it be known in the neighborhood why I keep you at home. I hope the
+next teacher will be a man who understands the respect due to social
+position. I don't care to have you put on an equality with such boys
+as Andrew Burke. He is no fit associate for you."
+
+"That is what I think, mother," said Godfrey. "The low beggar! I'd
+like to come up with him. Perhaps, I shall have a chance some day."
+
+When Colonel Preston returned home, the whole story was told to him;
+but, colored though it was, he guessed how matters actually stood, and
+was far from becoming his son's partisan. He privately went to Mr.
+Stone and obtained his version of the affair.
+
+"You did right, Mr. Stone," he said, at the end. "If my son chooses to
+act the bully, he must take the consequences. Mrs. Preston does not
+look upon it in the same light, and insists upon my taking Godfrey
+from school. For the sake of peace, I must do so, but you must not
+construe it as showing any disapproval on my part of your course in
+the matter."
+
+"Thank you, Colonel Preston," said the teacher, warmly. "I can only
+regret Mrs. Preston's displeasure. Your approval I highly value, and
+it will encourage me in the path of duty."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT
+
+
+Godfrey didn't return to school at all. He fancied that it would be
+more aristocratic to go to a boarding school, and, his mother
+concurring in this view, he was entered as a scholar at the Melville
+Academy, situated in Melville, twelve miles distant. Once a fortnight
+he came home to spend the Sunday. On these occasions he flourished
+about with a tiny cane, and put on more airs than ever. No one missed
+him much, outside of his own family. Andy found the school
+considerably more agreeable after his departure.
+
+We will now suppose twelve months to have passed. During this time
+Andy has grown considerably, and is now quite a stout boy. He has
+improved also in education. The Misses Grant, taking a kind interest
+in his progress, managed to spare him half the day in succeeding
+terms, so that he continued to attend school. Knowing that he had but
+three hours to learn, when the others had six, he was all the more
+diligent, and was quite up to the average standard for boys of his
+age. The fact is, Andy was an observing boy, and he realized that
+education was essential to success in life. Mr. Stone, before going
+away, talked with him on this subject and gave him some advice, which
+Andy determined to follow.
+
+As may be inferred from what I have said, Andy was still working for
+the Misses Grant. He had grown accustomed to their ways, and succeeded
+in giving them perfect satisfaction, and accomplished quite as much
+work as John, his predecessor, though the latter was a man.
+
+As Christmas approached, Miss Priscilla said one day to her sister:
+
+"Don't you think, Sophia, it would be well to give Andrew a Christmas
+present?"
+
+"Just so," returned Sophia, approvingly.
+
+"He has been very faithful and obliging all the time he has been with
+us."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"I have been thinking what would be a good thing to give him."
+
+"A pair of spectacles," suggested Sophia, rather absent-mindedly.
+
+"Sophia, you are a goose."
+
+"Just so," acquiesced her sister, meekly.
+
+"Such a gift would be very inappropriate."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"A pair of boots," was the next suggestion.
+
+"That would be better. Boots would be very useful, but I think it
+would be well to give him something that would contribute to his
+amusement. Of course, we must consult his taste, and not out own. We
+are not boys."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, promptly. "And he is not a lady," she added,
+enlarging upon the idea.
+
+"Of course not. Now, the question is, what do boys like?"
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, but this admission did not throw much light
+upon the character of the present to be bought.
+
+Just then Andy himself helped them to a decision. He entered, cap in
+hand, and said:
+
+"If you can spare me, Miss Grant, I would like to go skating on the
+pond."
+
+"Have you a pair of skates, Andrew?"
+
+"No, ma'am," said Andy; "but one of the boys will lend me a pair."
+
+"Yes, Andrew; you can go, if you will be home early."
+
+"Yes, ma'am--thank you."
+
+As he went out, Miss Priscilla said:
+
+"I have it."
+
+"What?" asked Sophia, alarmed.
+
+"I mean that I have found out what to give to Andrew."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"A pair of skates."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia. "He will like them."
+
+"So I think. Suppose we go to the store while he is away, and buy him
+a pair."
+
+"Won't he need to try them on?" asked her sister.
+
+"No," said Priscilla. "They don't need to fit as exactly as boots."
+
+So the two sisters made their way to the village store, and asked to
+look at their stock of skates.
+
+"Are you going to skate, Miss Priscilla?" asked the shopkeeper,
+jocosely.
+
+"No; they are for Sophia," answered Priscilla, who could joke
+occasionally.
+
+"Oh, Priscilla," answered the matter-of-fact Sophia, "you didn't tell
+me about that. I am sure I could not skate. You said they were for
+Andrew."
+
+"Sophia, you are a goose."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"It was only a joke."
+
+"Just so."
+
+The ladies, who never did things by halves, selected the best pair in
+the store, and paid for them. When Andy had returned from skating,
+Priscilla said: "How did you like the skating, Andrew?"
+
+"It was bully," said Andrew, enthusiastically.
+
+"Whose skates did you borrow?"
+
+"Alfred Parker's. They were too small for me, but I made them do."
+
+"I should suppose you would like to have a pair of your own."
+
+"So I should, but I can't afford to buy a pair, just yet.
+
+"I'll tell you what I want to do, and maybe you'll help me about
+buyin' it."
+
+"What is it, Andrew?"
+
+"You know Christmas is comin', ma'am, and I want to buy my mother a
+nice dress for a Christmas present--not a calico one, but a thick one
+for winter."
+
+"Alpaca or de laine?"
+
+"I expect so; I don't know the name of what I want, but you do. How
+much would it cost?"
+
+"I think you could get a good de laine for fifty cents a yard. I saw
+some at the store this afternoon."
+
+"And about how many yards would be wanted, ma'am?"
+
+"About twelve, I should think."
+
+"Then it would be six dollars."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, who thought it about time she took part in the
+conversation.
+
+"I've got the money, ma'am, and I'll give it to you, if you and Miss
+Sophia will be kind enough to buy it for me."
+
+"To be sure we will, Andrew," said Priscilla, kindly. "I am glad you
+are such a good son."
+
+"Just so, Andrew."
+
+"You see," said Andy, "mother won't buy anything for herself. She
+always wants to buy things for Mary and me. She wants us to be
+well-dressed, but she goes with the same old clothes. So I want her to
+have a new dress."
+
+"You want her to have it at Christmas, then?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, if it won't be too much trouble."
+
+"That is in two days. To-morrow, Sophia and I will buy the dress."
+
+"Thank you. Here's the money," and Andy counted out six dollars in
+bills, of which Miss Priscilla took charge.
+
+The next day they fulfilled their commission, and purchased a fine
+dress pattern at the village store. It cost rather more than six
+dollars, but this they paid out of their own pockets, and did not
+report to Andy. Just after supper, as he was about to go home to spend
+Christmas Eve, they placed the bundle in his hands.
+
+"Isn't it beautiful!" he exclaimed, with delight. "Won't mother be
+glad to get it?"
+
+"She'll think she has a good son, Andrew."
+
+"Shure, I ought to be good to her, for she's a jewel of a mother."
+
+"That is right, Andrew. I always like to hear a boy speak well of his
+mother. It is a great pleasure to a mother to have a good son."
+
+"Shure, ma'am," said Andy, with more kindness of heart than
+discretion, "I hope you'll have one yourself."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, with the forced habit upon her.
+
+"Sophia, you are a goose!" said Priscilla, blushing a little.
+
+"Just so, Priscilla."
+
+"We are too old to marry, Andrew," said Priscilla; "but we thank you
+for your wish."
+
+"Shure, ma'am, you are only in the prime of life."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, brightening up.
+
+"I shall be sixty next spring. That can hardly be in the prime of
+life."
+
+"I was readin' of a lady that got married at seventy-nine, ma'am."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia, eagerly.
+
+Miss Priscilla did not care to pursue the subject.
+
+"We have thought of you," she continued, "and, as you have been very
+obliging, we have bought you a Christmas present. Here it is."
+
+Andy no sooner saw the skates than his face brightened up with the
+most evident satisfaction.
+
+"It's just what I wanted," he said, joyfully. "They're regular
+beauties! I'm ever so much obliged to you."
+
+"Sophia wanted to get you a pair of spectacles, but I thought these
+would suit you better."
+
+Andy went off into a fit of laughter at the idea, in which both the
+ladies joined him. Then, after thanking them again, he hurried home,
+hardly knowing which gave him greater pleasure, his own present, or
+his mother's.
+
+I will not stop to describe Andy's Christmas, for this is only a
+retrospect, but carry my reader forward to the next September, when
+Andy met with an adventure, which eventually had a considerable effect
+upon his fortunes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+INTRODUCES AN ADVENTURER
+
+
+Colonel Preston, as I have already said, was a rich man. He owned no
+real estate in the town of Crampton, except the house in which he
+lived. His property was chiefly in stocks of different kinds. Included
+in these was a considerable amount of stock in a woolen manufacturing
+establishment, situated in Melville, some twelve miles distant.
+Dividends upon these were paid semi-annually, on the first of April
+and October. It was the custom of Colonel Preston at these dates to
+drive over to Melville, receive his dividends, and then drive back
+again.
+
+Now, unfortunately for the welfare of the community, there are some
+persons who, unwilling to make a living by honest industry, prefer to
+possess themselves unlawfully of means to maintain their unprofitable
+lives. Among them was a certain black-whiskered individual, who,
+finding himself too well known in New York, had sought the country,
+ready for any stroke of business which might offer in his particular
+line. Chance led his steps to Melville, where he put up at the village
+inn. He began at once to institute inquiries, the answers to which
+might serve his purpose, and to avert suspicion, casually mentioned
+that he was a capitalist, and thought of settling down in the town. As
+he was well dressed, and had a plausible manner, this statement was
+not doubted.
+
+Among other things, he made inquiries in regard to the manufactory,
+what dividends it paid, and when. Expressing himself desirous of
+purchasing some stock, he inquired the names of the principal owners
+of the stock. First among them was mentioned Colonel Preston.
+
+"Perhaps he might sell some stocks," suggested the landlord.
+
+"Where can I see him?" asked James Fairfax, for this was the name
+assumed by the adventurer.
+
+"You can see him here," answered the landlord, "in a day or two. He
+will be here the first of the month to receive his dividends."
+
+"Will he stop with you?"
+
+"Probably. He generally dines with me when he comes over."
+
+"Will you introduce me?"
+
+"With pleasure."
+
+Mr. Fairfax appeared to hear this with satisfaction, and said that he
+would make Colonel Preston an offer for a part of his stock.
+
+"Most of my property is invested in real estate in New York," he said;
+"but I should like to have some manufacturing stock; and, from what
+you tell me, I think favorably of the Melville Mills."
+
+"We should be glad to have you settle down among us," said the
+landlord.
+
+"I shall probably do so," said Fairfax. "I am very much pleased with
+your town and people."
+
+In due time Colonel Preston drove over. As usual, he put up at the
+hotel.
+
+"Colonel," said the landlord, "there's a gentleman stopping with me
+who desires an introduction to you."
+
+"Indeed! What is his name?"
+
+"James Fairfax."
+
+"Is he from this neighborhood?"
+
+"No; from the city of New York."
+
+"I shall be happy to make his acquaintance," said the colonel,
+courteously; "but it must be after I return from the mills. I shall be
+there a couple of hours, probably. We are to have a directorial
+meeting."
+
+"I will tell him."
+
+Colonel Preston attended the directors' meeting, and also collected
+his dividend, amounting to eight hundred dollars. These, in eight
+one-hundred-dollar bills, he put in his pocketbook, and returned to
+the hotel for dinner.
+
+"Dinner is not quite ready, colonel," said the landlord. "It will be
+ready in fifteen minutes."
+
+"Where is the gentleman who wished to be introduced to me?" asked
+Colonel Preston, who thought it would save time to be introduced now.
+
+"I will speak to him."
+
+He went directly to a dark-complexioned man with black whiskers, and
+eyes that were rather sinister in appearance. The eyes oftenest betray
+the real character of a man, where all other signs fail. But Colonel
+Preston was not a keen observer, nor was he skilled in physiognomy,
+and, judging of Mr. Fairfax by his manner merely, was rather pleased
+with him.
+
+"You will pardon my obtruding myself upon you, Colonel Preston," said
+the stranger, with great ease of manner.
+
+"I am happy to make your acquaintance, sir."
+
+"I am a stranger in this neighborhood. The city of New York is my
+home. I have been led here by the recommendations of friends who knew
+that I desired to locate myself in the country."
+
+"How do you like Melville?"
+
+"Very much--so much, that I may settle down here. But, Colonel
+Preston, I am a man of business, and if I am to be here, I want some
+local interest--some stake in the town itself."
+
+"Quite natural, sir."
+
+"You are a business man yourself, and will understand me. Now, to come
+to the point, I find you have a manufactory here--a woolen
+manufactory, which I am given to understand is prosperous and
+profitable."
+
+"You are correctly informed, Mr. Fairfax. It is paying twelve per
+cent. dividends, and has done so for several years."
+
+"That is excellent. It is a better rate than I get for most of my city
+investments."
+
+"I also have city investments--bank stocks, and horse-railroad stocks,
+but, as you say, my mill stock pays me better than the majority of
+these."
+
+"You are a large owner of the mill stock; are you not, Colonel
+Preston?"
+
+"Yes, sir; the largest, I believe."
+
+"So I am informed. Would you be willing to part with any of it?"
+
+"I have never thought of doing so. I am afraid I could not replace it
+with any other that would be satisfactory."
+
+"I don't blame you, of course, but it occurred to me that, having a
+considerable amount, you might be willing to sell."
+
+"I generally hold on to good stock when I get possession of it.
+Indeed, I would buy more, if there were any in the market."
+
+"He must have surplus funds," thought the adventurer. "I must see if I
+can't manage to get some into my possession."
+
+Here the landlord appeared, and announced that dinner was ready.
+
+"You dine here, then?" said Fairfax.
+
+"Yes; it will take me two hours to reach home, so I am obliged to dine
+here."
+
+"We shall dine together, it seems. I am glad of it, as at present I
+happen to be the only permanent guest at the hotel. May I ask where
+you live?"
+
+"In Crampton."
+
+"I have heard favorably of it, and have been intending to come over
+and see the place, but the fact is, I am used only to the city, and
+your country roads are so blind, that I have been afraid of losing my
+way."
+
+"Won't you ride over with me this afternoon, Mr. Fairfax? I can't
+bring you back, but you are quite welcome to a seat in my chaise one
+way."
+
+The eyes of the adventurer sparkled at the invitation. Colonel Preston
+had fallen into the trap he had laid for him, but he thought it best
+not to accept too eagerly.
+
+"You are certainly very kind, Colonel Preston," he answered, with
+affected hesitation, "but I am afraid I shall be troubling you too
+much."
+
+"No trouble whatever," said Colonel Preston, heartily. "It is a lonely
+ride, and I shall be glad of a companion."
+
+"A lonely ride, is it?" thought Fairfax. "All the better for my
+purpose. It shall not be my fault if I do not come back with my
+pockets well lined. The dividends you have just collected will be
+better in my pockets than in yours."
+
+This was what he thought, but he said:
+
+"Then I will accept with pleasure. I suppose I can easily engage
+someone to bring me back to Melville?"
+
+"Oh, yes; we have a livery stable, where you can easily obtain a horse
+and driver."
+
+The dinner proceeded, and Fairfax made himself unusually social and
+agreeable, so that Colonel Preston congratulated himself on the
+prospect of beguiling the loneliness of the way in such pleasant
+company. Fairfax spoke of stocks with such apparent knowledge that the
+colonel imagined him to be a gentleman of large property. It is not
+surprising that he was deceived, for the adventurer really understood
+the subject of which he spoke, having been for several years a clerk
+in a broker's counting-room in Wall Street. The loss of his situation
+was occasioned by his abstraction of some securities, part of which he
+had disposed of before he was detected. He was, in consequence, tried
+and sentenced to three years' imprisonment. At the end of this period
+he was released, with no further taste for an honest life, and had
+since allied himself to the class who thrive by preying upon the
+community.
+
+This was the man whom Colonel Preston proposed to take as his
+companion on his otherwise lonely ride home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+RIDING WITH A HIGHWAYMAN
+
+
+"Get into the chaise, Mr. Fairfax," said Colonel Preston.
+
+"Thank you," said the adventurer, and accepted the invitation.
+
+"Now we are off," said the colonel, as he took the reins, and touched
+the horse lightly with the whip.
+
+"Is the road a pleasant one?" inquired Fairfax.
+
+"The latter part is rather lonely. For a mile it runs through the
+woods--still, on a summer day, that is rather pleasant than otherwise.
+In the evening, it is not so agreeable."
+
+"No, I suppose not," said Fairfax, rather absently.
+
+Colonel Preston would have been startled could he have read the
+thoughts that were passing through the mind of his companion. Could he
+have known his sinister designs, he would scarcely have sat at his
+side, chatting so easily and indifferently.
+
+"I will postpone my plan till we get to that part of the road he
+speaks of," thought Fairfax. "It would not do for me to be
+interrupted."
+
+"I suppose it is quite safe traveling anywhere on the road," remarked
+the adventurer.
+
+"Oh, yes," said Colonel Preston, with a laugh. "Thieves and highway
+robbers do not pay us the compliment of visiting our neighborhood.
+They keep in the large cities, or in places that will better reward
+their efforts."
+
+"Precisely," said Fairfax; "I am glad to hear it, for I carry a
+considerable amount of money about me."
+
+"So do I, to-day. This is the day for payment of mill dividends, and
+as I have occasion to use the money, I did not deposit it."
+
+"Good," said Fairfax, to himself. "That is what I wanted to find out."
+
+Aloud he said:
+
+"Oh, well, there are two of us, so it would be a bold highwayman that
+would venture to attack us. Do you carry a pistol?"
+
+"Not I," said Colonel Preston. "I don't like the idea of carrying
+firearms about with me. They might go off by mistake. I was reading in
+a daily paper, recently, of a case where a man accidentally shot his
+son with the pistol he was in the habit of carrying about with him."
+
+"There is that disadvantage, to be sure," said Fairfax. "So, he has no
+pistol. He is quite in my power," he said to himself. "It's a good
+thing to know."
+
+"By the way," he asked, merely to keep up the conversation, "are you a
+family man, Colonel Preston?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I have a wife, and a son of fifteen."
+
+"You have the advantage of me in that respect. I have always been
+devoted to business, and have had no time for matrimony."
+
+"Time enough yet, Mr. Fairfax."
+
+"Oh, yes, I suppose so."
+
+"If you are going to settle down in our neighborhood, I can introduce
+you to some of our marriageable young ladies," said Colonel Preston,
+pleasantly.
+
+"Thank you," said Fairfax; in the same tone. "I may avail myself of
+your offer."
+
+"Won't you take supper at my home this evening?" said the colonel,
+hospitably. "I shall be glad to introduce Mrs. Preston. My son is at
+boarding school, so I shall not be able to let you see him."
+
+"Have you but one child, then?"
+
+"But one. His absence leaves us alone."
+
+Godfrey's absence would have been lamented more by his father, had his
+character and disposition been different. But he was so arrogant and
+overbearing in his manners, and so selfish, that his father hoped that
+association with other boys would cure him in part of these
+objectionable traits. At home, he was so much indulged by his mother,
+who could see no fault in him, as long as he did not oppose her, that
+there was little chance of amendment.
+
+So they rode on, conversing on various topics, but their conversation
+was not of sufficient importance for me to report. At length they
+entered on a portion of the road lined on either side by a natural
+forest. Fairfax looked about him.
+
+"I suppose, Colonel Preston, these are the woods you referred to?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How far do they extend?"
+
+"About a mile."
+
+They had traversed about half a mile, when Fairfax said:
+
+"If you don't object, Colonel Preston, I will step out a moment.
+There's a tree with a peculiar leaf. I would like to examine it nearer
+to."
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Fairfax," said the colonel, though he wondered what
+tree it could be, for he saw no tree of an unusual character.
+
+The chaise stopped and Fairfax jumped off. But he seemed to have
+forgotten the object of dismounting. Instead of examining the foliage
+of a tree, he stepped to the horse's head, and seized him by the
+bridle.
+
+"What are you going to do, Mr. Fairfax?" asked Colonel Preston, in
+surprise.
+
+By this time Fairfax had withdrawn a pistol from his inside pocket,
+and deliberately pointed it at his companion.
+
+"Good heavens! Mr. Fairfax, what do you mean?"
+
+"Colonel Preston," said the adventurer, "I want all the money you have
+about you. I know you have a considerable sum, for you have yourself
+acknowledged it."
+
+"Why," exclaimed Colonel Preston, startled, "this is highway robbery."
+
+"Precisely!" said Fairfax, bowing mockingly. "You have had the honor
+of riding with a highwayman. Will you be good enough to give me the
+money at once? I am in haste."
+
+"Surely, this is a joke, Mr. Fairfax. I have heard of such practical
+jokes before. You are testing my courage. I am not in the least
+frightened. Jump in the chaise again, and we will proceed."
+
+"That's a very kind way of putting it," said Fairfax, coolly; "but not
+correct. I am no counterfeit, but the genuine article. Fairfax is not
+my name. I won't tell you what it is, for it might be inconvenient."
+
+No man can look with equanimity upon the prospect of losing money, and
+Colonel Preston may be excused for not wishing to part with his eight
+hundred dollars. But how could he escape? He had no pistol, and
+Fairfax held the horse's bridle in a strong grasp. If he could only
+parley with him till some carriage should come up, he might save his
+money. It seemed the only way, and he resolved to try it.
+
+"Mr. Fairfax," he said, "if you are really what you represent, I hope
+you will consider the natural end of such a career. Turn, I entreat
+you, to a more honest course of life."
+
+"That may come some time," said Fairfax; "but at present my
+necessities are too great. Oblige me by producing your pocketbook."
+
+"I will give you one hundred dollars, and keep the matter a secret
+from all. That will be better than to expose yourself to the penalty
+of the law."
+
+"Colonel Preston, a hundred dollars will not satisfy me. You have
+eight hundred dollars with you, and I shall not leave this spot till
+it is transferred to my possession."
+
+"If I refuse?"
+
+"You will subject me to the unpleasant alternative of blowing your
+brains out," said the other, coolly.
+
+"You surely would not be guilty of such a crime, Mr. Fairfax?" said
+Colonel Preston, with a shudder.
+
+"I would rather not. I have no desire to take your life, but I must
+have that money. If you prefer to keep your money, you will compel me
+to the act. You'll gain nothing, for in that case I shall take
+both--your life first, and your money afterward."
+
+"And this is the man with whom I dined, and with whom, a few moments
+since, I was conversing freely!" thought Colonel Preston.
+
+The adventurer became impatient.
+
+"Colonel Preston," he said, abruptly, "produce that money instantly,
+or I will fire."
+
+There was no alternative. With reluctant hand the colonel drew out his
+pocketbook, and was about to hand it with its contents to the
+highwayman, when there was a sudden crash in the bushes behind
+Fairfax, his pistol was dashed from his hand, and our young hero, Andy
+Burke, with resolute face, stood with his gun leveled at him. All
+happened so quickly that both Colonel Preston and Fairfax were taken
+by surprise, and the latter, still retaining his hold upon the bridle,
+stared at the young hero, who had so intrepidly come between him and
+his intended victim.
+
+With an oath he stopped, and was about to pick up the pistol which had
+fallen from his hands, but was arrested by the quick, decisive tones
+of Andy:
+
+"Let that pistol alone! If you pick it up, I will shoot you on the
+spot."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+BAFFLED A ROBBER
+
+
+Fairfax paused at Andy's threat. He was only a boy, it is true, but he
+looked cool and resolute, and the gun, which was pointed at him,
+looked positively dangerous. But was he to be thwarted in the very
+moment of his triumph, by a boy? He could not endure it.
+
+"Young man," he said, "this is dangerous business for you. If you
+don't make yourself scarce, you won't be likely to return at all."
+
+"I'll take the risk," said Andy, coolly.
+
+"Confound him! I thought he'd be frightened," said Fairfax to himself.
+
+"I don't want to kill you," he said, with a further attempt to
+intimidate Andy.
+
+"I don't mean to let you," said our hero, quietly.
+
+"You are no match for me."
+
+"With a gun I am."
+
+"I don't believe it is loaded."
+
+"If you try to pick up that pistol, I'll convince you; by the powers,
+I will," said Andy, energetically.
+
+"What is to prevent my taking away the gun from you?"
+
+"Faith," returned Andy, quaintly, "you'll take the powder and ball
+first, I'm thinkin'."
+
+Fairfax thought so, too, and that was one reason why he concluded not
+to try it.
+
+It was certainly a provoking position for him.
+
+There lay the pistol on the ground, just at his feet; yet, if he tried
+to pick it up, the boy would put a bullet through him. It was
+furthermore provoking to reflect that, had he not stopped to parley
+with Colonel Preston, he might have secured the money, which he so
+much desired, before Andy had come up. There was one other resource.
+He had tried bullying, and without success. He would try cajoling and
+temptation.
+
+"Look here, boy," he said, "I am a desperate man. I would as leave
+murder you as not."
+
+"Thank you," said Andy. "But I'd rather not have it done."
+
+"I don't want to hurt you, as I said before, but you mustn't interfere
+with me."
+
+"Then you mustn't interfere with the colonel."
+
+"I must have the money in his pocketbook."
+
+"Must you? Maybe, I'll have something to say, to that."
+
+"He has eight hundred dollars with him."
+
+"Did he tell you?"
+
+"No matter; I know. If you won't interfere with me, I'll give you two
+hundred of it."
+
+"Thank you for nothing, then," said Andy, independently. "I'm only a
+poor Irish boy, but I ain't a thafe, and never mane to be."
+
+"Bravo, Andy!" said Colonel Preston, who had awaited with a little
+anxiety the result of the offer.
+
+Fairfax stooped suddenly, but before he could get hold of the pistol,
+Andy struck him on the head with the gun-barrel, causing him to roll
+over, while, in a quick and adroit movement, he himself got hold of
+the pistol before Fairfax had recovered from the crack on his head.
+
+"Now," said Andy, triumphantly, with the gun over his shoulder, and
+presenting the pistol, "lave here mighty quick, or I'll shoot ye."
+
+"Give me back the pistol, then," said the discomfited ruffian.
+
+"I guess not," said Andy.
+
+"It's my property."
+
+"I don't know that. Maybe you took it from some thraveler."
+
+"Give it to me, and I'll go off peaceably."
+
+"I won't take no robber's word," said Andy. "Are you goin'?"
+
+"Give me the pistol. Fire it off, if you like."
+
+"That you may load it again. You don't catch a weasel asleep,"
+answered Andy, shrewdly. "I've a great mind to make you march into the
+village, and give you up to the perlice."
+
+This suggestion was by no means pleasant for the highwayman,
+particularly as he reflected that Andy had shown himself a resolute
+boy, and doubly armed as he now was, it was quite within his power to
+carry out his threat.
+
+"Don't fire after me," he said.
+
+"I never attack an inimy in the rare," said Andy, who always indulged
+in the brogue more than usual under exciting circumstances.
+
+I make this explanation, as the reader may have noticed a difference
+in his dialect at different times.
+
+"We shall meet again, boy!" said Fairfax, menacingly, turning at the
+distance of a few feet.
+
+"Thank you, sir. You needn't thrubble yourself," said Andy, "I ain't
+anxious to mate you."
+
+"When we do meet, you'll know it," said the other.
+
+"Maybe I will. Go along wid ye!" said Andy, pointing the pistol at
+him.
+
+"Don't shoot," said Fairfax, hastily, and he quickened his pace to get
+out of the way of a dangerous companion.
+
+Andy laughed as the highwayman disappeared in the distance.
+
+"I thought he wouldn't wait long," he said.
+
+"Andy," said Colonel Preston, warmly, "you have behaved like a hero."
+
+"I'm only an Irish boy," said Andy, laughing. "Shure, they don't make
+heroes of such as I."
+
+"I don't care whether you are Irish or Dutch. You are a hero for all
+that."
+
+"Shure, sir, it's lucky I was round whin that spalpeen wanted to rob
+you."
+
+"How did you happen to be out with a gun this afternoon?"
+
+"I got my work all done, and Miss Grant said I might go out shootin'
+if I wanted. Shure, I didn't expect it 'ud been robbers I would be
+afther shootin'."
+
+"You came up just in the nick of time. Weren't you afraid?"
+
+"I didn't stop to think of that when I saw that big blackguard
+p'intin' his pistol at you. I thought I'd have a hand in it myself."
+
+"Jump into the chaise, Andy, and ride home with me."
+
+"What, wid the gun?"
+
+"To be sure. We won't leave the gun. That has done us too good service
+already to-day."
+
+"I've made something out of it, anyway," said Andy, displaying the
+pistol, which was silver-mounted, and altogether a very pretty weapon.
+"It's a regular beauty," he said, with admiration.
+
+"It will be better in your hands than in the real owner's," said
+Colonel Preston.
+
+By this time Andy was in the chaise, rapidly nearing the village.
+
+"If you hadn't come up just as you did, Andy, I should have been
+poorer by eight hundred dollars."
+
+"That's a big pile of money," said Andy, who, as we know, was not in
+the habit of having large sums of money in his own possession.
+
+"It is considerably more than I would like to lose," said Colonel
+Preston, to whom it was of less importance than to Andy.
+
+"I wonder will I ever have so much money?" thought Andy.
+
+"Now, I'll tell you what I think it only right to do, Andy," pursued
+the colonel.
+
+Andy listened attentively.
+
+"I am going to make you a present of some money, as an acknowledgment
+of the service you have done me."
+
+"I don't want anything, Colonel Preston," said Andy. "I didn't help
+you for the money."
+
+"I know you didn't, my lad," said the colonel, "but I mean to give it
+to you all the same."
+
+He took out his pocketbook, but Andy made one more remonstrance.
+
+"I don't think I ought to take it, sir, thankin' you all the same."
+
+"Then I will give you one hundred dollars for your mother. You can't
+refuse it for her."
+
+Andy's eyes danced with delight. He knew how much good this money
+would do his mother, and relieve her from the necessity of working so
+hard as she was now compelled to do.
+
+"Thank you, sir," he said. "It'll make my mother's heart glad, and
+save her from the hard work."
+
+"Here is the money, Andy," said the colonel, handing his young
+companion a roll of bills.
+
+Again Andy poured out warm protestations of gratitude for the
+munificent gift, with which Colonel Preston was well pleased.
+
+"I believe you are a good boy, Andy," he said. "It is a good sign when
+a boy thinks so much of his mother."
+
+"I'd be ashamed not to, sir," said Andy.
+
+They soon reached the village. Andy got down at the Misses Grant's
+gate, and was soon astonishing the simple ladies by a narrative of his
+encounter with the highwayman.
+
+"Do you think he'll come here?" asked Sophia, in alarm. "If he should
+come when Andy was away----"
+
+"You could fire the gun yourself, Sophia."
+
+"I should be frightened to death."
+
+"Then he couldn't kill you afterward."
+
+"Just so," answered Sophia, a little bewildered.
+
+"Were you shot, Andrew?" she asked, a minute afterward.
+
+"If I was, I didn't feel it," said Andy, jocosely.
+
+Andy's heroic achievement made him still more valued by the Misses
+Grant, and they rejoiced in the handsome gift he had received from the
+colonel, and readily gave him permission to carry it to his mother
+after supper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+HOW THE NEWS WAS RECEIVED
+
+
+It is always pleasant to carry good news, and Andy hastened with
+joyful feet to his mother's humble dwelling.
+
+"Why, Andy, you're out of breath. What's happened?" asked Mrs. Burke.
+
+"I was afraid of bein' robbed," said Andy.
+
+"The robber wouldn't get much that would steal from you, Andy."
+
+"I don't know that, mother. I ain't so poor as you think. Look there,
+now!"
+
+Here he displayed the roll of bills. There were twenty fives, which
+made quite a thick roll.
+
+"Where did you get so much, Andy?" asked his sister Mary.
+
+"How much is it?" asked his mother.
+
+"A hundred dollars," answered Andy, proudly.
+
+"A hundred dollars!" repeated his mother, with apprehension. "Oh,
+Andy, I hope you haven't been stealing?"
+
+"Did you ever know me to stale, mother?" said Andy.
+
+"No, but I thought you might be tempted. Whose money is it?"
+
+"It's yours, mother."
+
+"Mine!" exclaimed Mrs. Burke, in astonishment. "You're joking now,
+Andy."
+
+"No, I'm not. It's yours."
+
+"Where did it come from, then?"
+
+"Colonel Preston sent it to you as a present."
+
+"I am afraid you are not tellin' me the truth, Andy," said his mother,
+doubtfully. "Why should he send me so much money?"
+
+"Listen, and I'll tell you, mother, and you'll see it's the truth I've
+been tellin'."
+
+Thereupon he told the story of his adventure with the highwayman and
+how he had saved Colonel Preston from being robbed.
+
+His mother listened with pride, for though Andy spoke modestly, she
+could see that he had acted in a brave and manly way, and it made her
+proud of him.
+
+"So the colonel," Andy concluded, "wanted to give me a hundred
+dollars, but I didn't like to take it myself. But when he said he
+would give it to you, I couldn't say anything ag'inst that. So here it
+is, mother, and I hope you'll spend some of it on yourself."
+
+"I don't feel as if it belonged to me, Andy. It was you that he meant
+it for."
+
+"Keep it, mother, and it'll do to use when we nade it."
+
+"I don't like to keep so much money in the house, Andy. We might be
+robbed."
+
+"You can put part of it in the savings bank, mother."
+
+This course was adopted, and Andy himself carried eighty dollars, and
+deposited it in a savings bank in Melville, a few days afterward.
+
+Meanwhile Colonel Preston told the story of Andy's prowess, at home.
+But Mrs. Preston was prejudiced against Andy, and listened coldly.
+
+"It seems to me, Colonel Preston," she said, "you are making
+altogether too much of that Irish boy. He puts on enough airs to make
+one sick already."
+
+"I never observed it, my dear," said the colonel, mildly.
+
+"Everyone else does. He thought himself on a level with our Godfrey."
+
+"He is Godfrey's superior in some respects."
+
+"Oh, well, if you are going to exalt him above your own flesh and
+blood, I won't stay and listen to you."
+
+"You disturb yourself unnecessarily, my dear. I have no intention of
+adopting him in place of my son. But he has done me a great service
+this after-noon, and displayed a coolness and courage very unusual in
+a boy of his age. But for him, I should be eight hundred dollars
+poorer."
+
+"Oh, well, you can give him fifty cents, and he will be well paid for
+his services, as you call them."
+
+"Fifty cents!" repeated her husband.
+
+"Well, a dollar, if you like."
+
+"I have given him a hundred dollars."
+
+"A hundred dollars!" almost screamed Mrs. Preston, who was a very mean
+woman. "Are you insane?"
+
+"Not that I am aware of, my dear."
+
+"It is perfectly preposterous to give such a sum to such a boy."
+
+"I ought to say that I gave it to him for his mother. He was not
+willing to accept it for himself."
+
+"That's a likely story," said Mrs. Preston, incredulously. "He only
+wants to make a favorable impression upon you--perhaps to get more out
+of you."
+
+"You misjudge him, my dear."
+
+"I know he is an artful, intriguing young rascal. You give him a
+hundred dollars, yet you refused to give Godfrey ten dollars last
+week."
+
+"For a very good reason. He has a liberal allowance, and must keep
+within it. He did not need the money he asked for."
+
+"Yet you lavish a hundred dollars on this boy."
+
+"I felt justified in doing so. Which was better, to give him that sum,
+or to lose eight hundred?"
+
+"I don't like the boy, and I never shall. I suppose he will be
+strutting around, boasting of his great achievement. If he had a gun
+it was nothing to do."
+
+"I suspect Godfrey would hardly have ventured upon it," said the
+colonel, smiling.
+
+"Oh, of course, Godfrey is vastly inferior to the Irish boy!" remarked
+Mrs. Preston, ironically. "You admire the family so much that I
+suppose if I were taken away, you would marry his mother and establish
+her in my place."
+
+"If you have any such apprehensions, my dear, your best course is to
+outlive her. That will effectually prevent my marrying her, and I
+pledge you my word that, while you are alive, I shall not think of
+eloping with her."
+
+"It is very well to jest about it," said Mrs. Preston, tossing her
+head.
+
+"I am precisely of your opinion, my dear. As you observe, that is
+precisely what I am doing."
+
+So the interview terminated. It was very provoking to Mrs. Preston
+that her husband should have given away a hundred dollars to Andy
+Burke's mother, but the thing was done, and could not be undone.
+However, she wrote an account of the affair to Godfrey, who, she knew,
+would sympathize fully with her view of the case. I give some extracts
+from her letter:
+
+"Your father seems perfectly infatuated with that low Irish boy. Of
+course, I allude to Andy Burke. He has gone so far as to give him a
+hundred dollars. Yesterday, in riding home from Melville, with eight
+hundred dollars in his pocketbook, he says he was stopped by a
+highwayman, who demanded his money or his life. Very singularly, Andy
+came up just in the nick of time with a gun, and made a great show of
+interfering, and finally drove the man away, as your father reports.
+He is full of praise of Andy, and, as I said, gave him a hundred
+dollars, when two or three would have been quite enough, even had the
+rescue been real. But of this I have my doubts. It is very strange
+that the boy should have been on the spot just at the right time,
+still more strange that a full-grown man should have been frightened
+away by a boy of fifteen. In fact, I think it is what they call a
+'put-up job.' I think the robber and Andy were confederates, and that
+the whole thing was cut and dried, that the man should make the
+attack, and Andy should appear and frighten him away, for the sake of
+a reward which I dare say the two have shared together. This is what I
+think about the matter. I haven't said so to your father, because he
+is so infatuated with the Irish boy that it would only make him angry,
+but I have no doubt that you will agree with me. [It may be said here
+that Godfrey eagerly adopted his mother's view, and was equally
+provoked at his father's liberality to his young enemy.] Your father
+says he won't give you the ten dollars you asked for. He can lavish a
+hundred dollars on Andy, but he has no money to give his own son. But
+sooner or later that boy will be come up with--sooner or later he will
+show himself in his true colors, and your father will be obliged to
+confess that he has been deceived. It puts me out of patience when I
+think of him.
+
+"We shall expect you home on Friday afternoon of next week, as usual."
+
+Andy was quite unconscious of the large space which he occupied in the
+thoughts of Mrs. Preston and Godfrey, and of the extent to which he
+troubled them. He went on, trying to do his duty, and succeeding fully
+in satisfying the Misses Grant, who had come to feel a strong interest
+in his welfare.
+
+Three weeks later, Sophia Grant, who had been to the village store on
+an errand, returned home, looking greatly alarmed.
+
+"What is the matter, Sophia?" asked her sister. "You look as if you
+had seen a ghost."
+
+"Just so, Priscilla," she said; "no, I don't mean that, but we may all
+be ghosts in a short time."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Smallpox is in town!"
+
+"Who's got it?"
+
+"Colonel Preston; and his wife won't stay in the house. She is packing
+up to go off, and I expect the poor man'll die all by himself, unless
+somebody goes and takes care of him, and then it'll spread, and we'll
+all die of it."
+
+This was certainly startling intelligence. Andy pitied the colonel,
+who had always treated him well. It occurred to him that his mother
+had passed through an attack of smallpox in her youth, and could take
+care of the colonel without danger. He resolved to consult her about
+it at once.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+A MODEL WIFE
+
+
+Colonel Preston, returning from a trip to Boston, in which, probably,
+he had been unconsciously exposed to the terrible disease referred to,
+was taken sick, and his wife, wholly unsuspicious of her husband's
+malady, sent for the doctor.
+
+The latter examined his patient and, on leaving the sick-chamber,
+beckoned Mrs. Preston to follow him.
+
+"What is the matter with him, doctor?" asked Mrs. Preston. The
+physician looked grave.
+
+"I regret to say, Mrs. Preston, that he has the smallpox."
+
+"The smallpox!" almost shrieked Mrs. Preston. "Oh! what will become of
+me?"
+
+Dr. Townley was rather disgusted to find her first thought was about
+herself, not about her stricken husband.
+
+"It's catching, isn't it, doctor?" she asked, in great agitation.
+
+"I am sorry to say that it is, madam."
+
+"Do you think I will take it?"
+
+"I cannot take it upon myself to say."
+
+"And I was in the same room with him," wailed Mrs. Preston, "and never
+knew the awful danger! Oh, I wouldn't have the smallpox for this
+world! If I didn't die, I should be all marked up for life."
+
+"You haven't much beauty to spoil," thought the doctor; but this
+thought he prudently kept to himself.
+
+"I must leave the house at once. I will go to my brother's house till
+he has recovered," said Mrs. Preston, in agitation.
+
+"What!" exclaimed the doctor, in surprise, "and leave your husband
+alone!"
+
+"I can't take care of him--you must see that I can't," said Mrs.
+Preston, fretfully. "I can't expose my life without doing him any
+good."
+
+"I expose myself every time I visit him," said the doctor. "I never
+had the smallpox. Have you been vaccinated?"
+
+"Yes, I believe so--I'm sure I don't know. But people sometimes take
+the smallpox even after they have been vaccinated. I should be so
+frightened that I could do no good."
+
+"Then," said the doctor, gravely, "you have decided to leave your
+husband?"
+
+"Yes, doctor, I must. It is my duty--to my boy," answered Mrs.
+Preston, catching at this excuse with eagerness. "I must live for him,
+you know. Of course, if I could do any good, it would be different.
+But what would Godfrey do if both his father and mother should die?"
+
+She looked up into his face, hoping that he would express approval of
+her intentions; but the doctor was too honest for this. In truth, he
+was disgusted with the woman's selfishness, and would like to have
+said so; but this politeness forbade. At any rate, he was not going to
+be trapped into any approval of her selfish and cowardly
+determination.
+
+"What do you wish to be done, Mrs. Preston?" he asked. "Of course,
+your husband must be taken care of."
+
+"Hire a nurse, doctor. A nurse will do much more good than I could.
+She will know just what to do. Most of them have had the smallpox. It
+is really much better for my husband that it should be so. Of course,
+you can pay high wages--anything she asks," added Mrs. Preston, whose
+great fear made her, for once in her life, liberal.
+
+"I suppose that will be the best thing to do. You wish me, then, to
+engage a nurse?"
+
+"Yes, doctor, if you will be so kind."
+
+"When do you go away?"
+
+"At once. I shall pack up my clothes immediately. On the whole, I
+think I will go to the town where Godfrey is at school, and board
+there for the present. I must see him, and prevent him from coming
+home."
+
+"You will go into your husband's chamber and bid him good-by?"
+
+"No; I cannot think of it. It would only be useless exposure."
+
+"What will he think?"
+
+"Explain it to him, doctor. Tell him that I hope he will get well very
+soon, and that I feel it my duty to go away now on Godfrey's account.
+I am sure he will see that it is my duty."
+
+"I wonder what excuse she would have if she had no son for a pretext?"
+thought the doctor.
+
+"Well," he said, "I will do as you request."
+
+"See that he has the best of care. Get him two nurses, if you think
+best. Don't spare expense."
+
+"What extraordinary liberality in Mrs. Preston," thought the
+physician.
+
+He went back into the chamber of his patient.
+
+"Doctor," said Colonel Preston, "you didn't tell me what was the
+matter with me. Am I seriously sick?"
+
+"I am sorry to say that you are."
+
+"Dangerously?"
+
+"Not necessarily. You have the smallpox."
+
+"Have I?" said the patient, thoughtfully.
+
+"It's an awkward thing to tell him that his wife is going to leave
+him," the doctor said to himself. "However, it must be done."
+
+"Have you told my wife, doctor?"
+
+"I just told her."
+
+"What does she say?"
+
+"She is very much startled, and (now for it), thinks, under the
+circumstances, she ought not to run the risk of taking care of you on
+account of Godfrey."
+
+"Perhaps she is right," said Colonel Preston, slowly.
+
+He was not surprised to hear it, but it gave him a pang, nevertheless.
+
+"She wants me to engage a nurse for you."
+
+"Yes, that will be necessary."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"When is she going?" he asked, a little later.
+
+"As soon as possible. She is going to board near the school where
+Godfrey is placed."
+
+"Shall I see her?"
+
+"She thinks it best not to risk coming into the chamber, lest she
+should carry the infection to Godfrey."
+
+"I suppose that is only prudent," returned the sick man, but in his
+heart he wished that his wife had shown less prudence, and a little
+more feeling for him.
+
+"Have you thought of any nurse?" he asked.
+
+"I have thought of the widow Burke."
+
+"She might not dare to come."
+
+"She has had the disease. I know this from a few slight marks still
+left on her face. Of course, you would be willing to pay a liberal
+price?"
+
+"Any price," said Colonel Preston, energetically. "It is a service
+which, I assure you, I shall not soon forget."
+
+"I must see her at once, for your wife will leave directly."
+
+"Pray, do so," said Colonel Preston. "Tell my wife," he said, after a
+pause, "that I hope soon to have recovered, so that it may be safe for
+her to come back."
+
+There was a subdued bitterness in his voice, which the doctor
+detected, and did not wonder at. He gave the message, as requested.
+
+"I am sure I hope so, Dr. Townley," said Mrs. Preston. "I shall be
+tortured with anxiety. I hope you will write me daily how my poor
+husband is getting along?"
+
+"Perhaps the paper might carry the infection," said the doctor,
+testing the real extent of her solicitude.
+
+"I didn't think of that," answered Mrs. Preston, hastily. "On the
+whole, you needn't write, then. It might communicate the disease to
+Godfrey."
+
+"She finds Godfrey very useful," the doctor thought.
+
+"I will bear my anxiety as I can," she continued. "Have you thought of
+anyone for a nurse?"
+
+"I have thought of Mrs. Burke."
+
+"She is poor, and will come if you offer her a good price. Try to get
+her."
+
+"I think she will come. I must go at once, for your husband needs
+immediate attention."
+
+"Get her to come at once, Dr. Townley! Oh, do! My husband may want
+something, and I can't go into the room. My duty to my dear, only son
+will not permit me. I hope Mr. Preston understands my motives in going
+away?"
+
+"I presume he does," said the doctor, rather equivocally.
+
+"Tell him how great a sacrifice it is for me to leave his bedside. It
+is a terrible trial for me, but my duty to my son makes it
+imperative."
+
+The doctor bowed.
+
+He drove at once to the humble dwelling of Mrs. Burke.
+
+His errand was briefly explained.
+
+"Can you come?" he asked. "I am authorized to offer you ten dollars a
+week for the time you spend there."
+
+"I would come in a minute, doctor, but what shall I do with Mary?"
+
+"She shall stay at my house. I will gladly take charge of her."
+
+"You are very kind, doctor. I wouldn't want to expose her, but I don't
+mind myself. I don't think I am in danger, for I've had the smallpox
+already."
+
+"Can you be ready in five minutes? Tell Mary to pack up her things,
+and go to my house at once. We'll take good care of her."
+
+In less than an hour Mrs. Burke was installed at the bedside of the
+sick man as his nurse. As she entered the house, Mrs. Preston left it,
+bound for the railway depot.
+
+"I'm so glad you're here," she said, greeting the widow Burke with
+unwonted cordiality. "I am sure you will take the best care of my
+husband. I have told the doctor to pay you whatever you ask."
+
+"I'll do my best, Mrs. Preston, but not for the money," answered Mrs.
+Burke. "Your husband shall get well, if good care can cure him."
+
+"I've no doubt of it; but the carriage is here, and I must go. Tell my
+husband how sorry I am to leave him."
+
+So Mrs. Preston went away, leaving a stranger to fulfill her own
+duties at the bedside of her husband.
+
+Thus it happened that, when Andy came home, he found his mother
+already gone, and his sister on the point of starting for the doctor's
+house. His idea had already been carried out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+COLONEL PRESTON'S RECOVERY
+
+
+Four weeks afterward, we will introduce the reader into the bedchamber
+of Colonel Preston. His sickness has been severe. At times recovery
+was doubtful, but Mrs. Burke has proved a careful and devoted nurse,
+intelligent and faithful enough to carry out the directions of the
+physician.
+
+"How do you feel this morning, Colonel Preston?" asked the doctor, who
+had just entered the chamber.
+
+"Better, doctor. I feel quite an appetite."
+
+"You are looking better--decidedly better. The disease has spent its
+force, and retreated from the field."
+
+"It is to you that the credit belongs, Dr. Townley."
+
+"Only in part. The greater share belongs to your faithful nurse, Mrs.
+Burke."
+
+"I shall not soon forget my obligations to her," said the sick man,
+significantly.
+
+"Now, Colonel Preston," said Mrs. Burke, "you are making too much of
+what little I have done."
+
+"That is impossible, Mrs. Burke. It is to your good nursing and the
+doctor's skill that I owe my life, and I hardly know to which the
+most."
+
+"To the doctor, sir. I only followed out his directions."
+
+"At the expense of your own health. You show the effects of your
+long-continued care."
+
+"It won't take long to pick up," said Mrs. Burke, cheerfully.
+
+"Is the danger of contagion over, doctor?" asked the patient.
+
+"Quite so."
+
+"Then, would it not be well to write to Mrs. Preston? Not that I mean
+to give up my good nurse just yet; that is, if she is willing to
+stay."
+
+"I will stay as long as you need me, sir."
+
+"That is well; but Mrs. Preston may wish to return, now that there's
+no further danger."
+
+"I will write to her at once."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+The following letter was dispatched to Mrs. Preston:
+
+
+    "MRS. PRESTON:--
+    "Dear Madam: It gives me great pleasure to inform you that
+    your husband is so far recovered that there is no danger now
+    of infection. You can return with safety, and he will,
+    doubtless, be glad to see you. He has been very ill,
+    indeed--in danger of his life; but, thanks to the devotion of
+    Mrs. Burke, who has proved an admirable nurse, he is now on
+    the high road to recovery. Yours respectfully,
+                                       "John Townley."
+
+
+"I think that will bring her," said the doctor.
+
+But he reckoned without his host.
+
+The next day he received the following letter, on scented paper:
+
+
+    "MY DEAR DOCTOR TOWNLEY: You cannot think how rejoiced I am
+    to receive the tidings of my husband's convalescence. I have
+    been so tortured with anxiety during the last four weeks! You
+    cannot think how wretchedly anxious I have been. I could not
+    have endured to stay away from his bedside but that my duty
+    imperatively required it. I have lost flesh, and my anxiety
+    has worn upon me. Now, how gladly will I resume my place at
+    the bedside of my husband, restored by your skill. I am glad
+    the nurse has proved faithful. It was a good chance for her,
+    for she shall be liberally paid, and no doubt the money will
+    be welcome. But don't you think it might be more prudent for
+    me to defer my return until next week? It will be safer, I
+    think, and I owe it to my boy to be very careful. You know,
+    the contagion may still exist. It is hard for me to remain
+    longer away, when I would fain fly to the bedside of Mr.
+    Preston, but I feel that it is best. Say to him, with my
+    love, that he may expect me next week. Accept my thanks for
+    your attention to him. I shall never forget it; and believe
+    me to be, my dear doctor, your obliged
+                                       "Lucinda Preston."
+
+
+Dr. Townley threw down this letter with deep disgust.
+
+"Was ever any woman more disgustingly selfish?" he exclaimed. "Her
+husband might have died, so far as she was concerned."
+
+Of course, he had to show this letter to Colonel Preston.
+
+The latter read it, with grave face, and the doctor thought he heard a
+sigh.
+
+"My wife is very prudent," he said, with a touch of bitterness in his
+voice.
+
+"She will be here next week," said the doctor, having nothing else to
+answer.
+
+"I think she will run no risk then," said the sick man, cynically.
+
+But Mrs. Preston did not return in a week. It was a full week and a
+half before she arrived at her own house.
+
+The doctor was just coming out of the front door.
+
+"How is my husband?" she asked.
+
+"Not far from well. He is still weak, of course."
+
+"And are you sure," she said, anxiously, "that there is no danger of
+infection?"
+
+"Not the slightest, madam," said Dr. Townley, coldly.
+
+"I am so glad I can see him once more. You cannot imagine," she
+exclaimed, clasping her hands, "how much I have suffered in my
+suspense!"
+
+The doctor remained cool and unmoved. He didn't feel that he could
+respond fittingly, being absolutely incredulous.
+
+Mrs. Preston saw it, and was nettled. She knew that she was a
+hypocrite, but did not like to have the doctor, by his silence, imply
+his own conviction of it.
+
+"Mine has been a hard position," she continued.
+
+"Your husband has not had an easy time," said the doctor,
+significantly.
+
+"But he has had good care--Mrs. Burke was a good nurse?"
+
+"Admirable."
+
+"She must be paid well."
+
+"I offered her ten dollars a week."
+
+"Humph!" said Mrs. Preston, doubtfully, in whose eyes five dollars
+would have been liberal compensation. "It has been a good chance for
+her."
+
+"It is far from adequate," said the doctor, disgusted. "Money cannot
+pay for such service as hers, not to speak of the risk she ran, for
+cases have been known of persons being twice attacked by the disease."
+
+"You don't think my husband will have a relapse?" asked Mrs. Preston,
+with fresh alarm.
+
+"Not if he has the same care for a short time longer."
+
+"He shall have it. She must stay. Of course her duties are lighter
+now, and six dollars a week for the remainder of the time will be
+enough--don't you think so?"
+
+"No, I don't," said the doctor, bluntly; "and, moreover, I am quite
+sure your husband will not consent to reducing the wages of one whose
+faithful care has saved his life."
+
+"Oh, well, you know best," said Mrs. Preston, slowly. "I am quite
+willing that she should be well paid."
+
+Mrs. Preston went upstairs, and entered her husband's chamber.
+
+"Oh, my dear husband!" she exclaimed, theatrically, hurrying across
+the room, with affected emotion. "I am so glad to find you so much
+better!"
+
+"I am glad to see you back, Lucinda," said Colonel Preston; but he
+spoke coldly, and without the slightest affectation of sentimental
+joy. "I have passed through a good deal since you left me."
+
+"And so have I!" exclaimed his wife. "Oh, how my heart has been rent
+with anxiety, as I thought of you lying sick, while duty kept me from
+your side."
+
+"Is Godfrey well?" asked her husband, taking no notice of her last
+speech.
+
+"Yes, poor boy! He sends his love, and is so anxious to see you."
+
+"Let him come next Friday afternoon," said the sick man, who doubted
+this statement, yet wanted to believe it true.
+
+"He shall. I will write to him at once."
+
+So Mrs. Preston resumed her place in the house; but from that time
+there was a something she could not understand in her husband's
+manner. He was graver than formerly, and sometimes she saw him
+watching her intently, and, after a little, turn away, with a sigh.
+
+He had found her out in all her intense selfishness and want of
+feeling, and he could never again regard her as formerly, even though
+she tried hard at times, by a show of affection, to cover up her
+heartless neglect.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+MRS. BURKE HAS GOOD FORTUNE
+
+
+Mrs. Burke remained a week longer to nurse Colonel Preston. At the end
+of this time Mr. Preston thought he was well enough to dispense with a
+nurse, and accordingly she prepared to take leave.
+
+"I shall always remember your kind service, Mrs. Burke," said the
+colonel, warmly.
+
+"It was only my duty, sir," said the widow, modestly.
+
+"Not all would have done their duty so faithfully."
+
+"I am glad to see you well again," said the widow.
+
+"Not more than I am to get well, I assure you," said he. "Whenever you
+are in any trouble, come to me."
+
+With these words, he placed in her hands an envelope, which, as she
+understood, contained the compensation for her services. She thanked
+him, and took her departure.
+
+Mrs. Preston was curious to know how much her husband paid the nurse,
+and asked the question.
+
+"A hundred dollars," he replied.
+
+"A hundred dollars!" she repeated, in a tone which implied
+disapproval. "I thought she agreed to come for ten dollars a week."
+
+"So she did."
+
+"She has not been here ten weeks; only about six."
+
+"That is true, but she has richly earned all I gave her."
+
+"Ten dollars a week I consider very handsome remuneration to one in
+her position in life," said Mrs. Preston, pointedly.
+
+"Lucinda, but for her attention I probably should not have lived
+through this sickness. Do you think a hundred dollars so much to pay
+for your husband's life?"
+
+"You exaggerate the value of her services," said his wife.
+
+"Dr. Townley says the same thing that I do."
+
+"You are both infatuated with that woman," said Mrs. Preston,
+impatiently.
+
+"We only do her justice."
+
+"Oh, well, have it your own way. But I should have only paid her what
+I agreed to. It is a great windfall for her."
+
+"She deserves it."
+
+Mrs. Preston said no more at this time, for she found her husband too
+"infatuated," as she termed it, to agree with her. She did, however,
+open the subject to Godfrey when he came home, and he adopted her view
+of the case.
+
+"She and her low son are trying to get all they can out of father," he
+said. "It's just like them."
+
+"I wish I could make your father see it," said Mrs. Preston, "but he
+seems prepossessed in her favor."
+
+"If he can give a hundred dollars to her, he can give me a little
+extra money; I'm going to ask him."
+
+So he did the same evening.
+
+"Will you give me ten dollars, father?" he asked.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Oh, for various things. I need it."
+
+"I give you an allowance of three dollars a week."
+
+"I have a good many expenses."
+
+"That will meet all your reasonable expenses. I was far from having as
+much money as that when I was of your age."
+
+"I don't see why you won't give me the money," said Godfrey,
+discontentedly.
+
+"I don't think you need it."
+
+"You are generous enough to others."
+
+"To whom do you refer?"
+
+"You give plenty of money to that Irish boy and his mother."
+
+"They have both rendered me great services. The boy saved me from
+being robbed. The mother, in all probability, saved me from falling a
+victim to smallpox. But that has nothing to do with your affairs. It
+is scarcely proper for a boy like you to criticise his father's way of
+disposing of his money."
+
+"I confess I think Godfrey is right in commenting upon your
+extraordinary liberality to the Burkes," observed Mrs. Preston.
+
+"Lucinda," said her husband, gravely, "when my own wife deserted my
+sick bed, leaving me to wrestle alone with a terrible and dangerous
+disease, I was fortunate enough to find in Mrs. Burke a devoted nurse.
+The money I have paid her is no adequate compensation, nor is it all
+that I intend to do for her."
+
+There was a part of this speech that startled Mrs. Preston. Never
+before had her husband complained of her desertion of him in his
+sickness, and she hoped that he had been imposed upon by the excuse
+which she gave of saving herself for Godfrey. Now she saw that in this
+she had not been altogether successful, and she regretted having
+referred to Mrs. Burke, and so brought this reproach upon herself. She
+felt it necessary to say something in extenuation.
+
+"It was because I wanted to live for Godfrey," she said, with a
+flushed face. "Nothing but that would have taken me away from you at
+such a time. It was a great trial to me," she continued, putting up
+her handkerchief to eyes that were perfectly dry.
+
+"We will say no more about it," said Colonel Preston, gravely. "I
+shall not refer to it, unless you undervalue my obligations to Mrs.
+Burke."
+
+Mrs. Preston thought it best not to reply, but on one thing that her
+husband had said, she commented to Godfrey.
+
+"Your father speaks of giving more money to Mrs. Burke. I suppose we
+shall not know anything about it if he does."
+
+"Perhaps he will leave her some money in his will," said Godfrey.
+
+"Very likely. If he does, there is such a thing as contesting a
+will--that is, if he gives her much."
+
+Mrs. Preston was right. Her husband did intend to give his devoted
+nurse something in his will, but of that more anon. There was one
+thing which he did at once, and that was to buy the cottage which Mrs.
+Burke occupied, from the heir, a non-resident. Mrs. Burke didn't learn
+this until she went to pay her rent to the storekeeper, who had acted
+as agent for the owner.
+
+"I have nothing to do with the house any longer, Mrs. Burke," he said.
+
+"Then who shall I pay rent to?" said Mrs. Burke.
+
+"To Colonel Preston, who has recently bought the house."
+
+Mrs. Burke, therefore, called at the house of the colonel.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Preston were sitting together when the servant announced
+that she wished to speak to him.
+
+"You seem to have a good deal of business with Mrs. Burke," said his
+wife, in a very unpleasant tone.
+
+"None that I care to conceal," he said, smiling. "Show Mrs. Burke in
+here, Jane," he continued, addressing the servant.
+
+"Good-morning, Mrs. Burke," he said, pleasantly.
+
+"Good-morning," said Mrs. Preston, coldly.
+
+"Good-morning, sir, I'm glad to see you looking so much better."
+
+"Oh, yes, I am feeling pretty well now."
+
+"I didn't find out till just now, Colonel Preston, that you were my
+landlord."
+
+Here Mrs. Preston pricked up her ears, for it was news to her also, as
+her husband had not mentioned his recent purchase.
+
+"Yes, I thought I would buy the house, as it was in the market."
+
+"I have come to pay my rent. I have been in the habit of paying
+fifteen dollars a quarter."
+
+"I won't be a hard landlord," said Colonel Preston. "You are welcome
+to live in the house, if it suits you, free of all rent."
+
+"This is too much kindness," said Mrs. Burke, quite overwhelmed by the
+unexpected liberality.
+
+Mrs. Preston thought so, too, but could not well say anything.
+
+"There's been kindness on both sides, Mrs. Burke. Put up your money, I
+don't want it, but I have no doubt you will find use for it. Buy
+yourself a new dress."
+
+"Thank you, Colonel Preston. You are very generous, and I am very
+grateful," said the widow.
+
+"I have something to be grateful for also, Mrs. Burke. If you want any
+repairs, just let me know, and they shall be attended to."
+
+"Thank you, sir, but the house is very comfortable."
+
+She soon took her leave.
+
+"When did you buy that house, Colonel Preston?" asked his wife.
+
+"A month since."
+
+"You didn't say anything about it to me."
+
+"Nor to anyone else, except those with whom I did the business."
+
+Mrs. Preston would like to have said more, but she did not think it
+expedient, remembering what she had brought upon herself before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+ANDY'S JOURNEY
+
+
+Toward the first of April of the succeeding year, Miss Sophia Grant
+took a severe cold, not serious, indeed, but such as to make it
+prudent for her to remain indoors. This occasioned a little
+derangement of her sister's plans; for both sisters were in the habit,
+about the first of April and of October, of taking a journey to
+Boston--partly for a change, and partly because at these times certain
+banks in which they owned stock declared dividends, which they took
+the opportunity to collect. But this spring it seemed doubtful if they
+could go. Yet they wanted the money--a part of it, at least.
+
+"Send Andrew," suggested Miss Sophia, after her sister had stated the
+difficulty.
+
+In general Miss Priscilla did not approve Sophia's suggestions, but
+this struck her more favorably.
+
+"I don't know but we might," she said, slowly. "He is a boy to be
+trusted."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"And I think he is a smart boy."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"He can take care of himself. You remember how he saved Colonel
+Preston from the robber?"
+
+"Just so."
+
+"Then, on the other hand, he has never been to Boston."
+
+"He could ask."
+
+"I don't suppose there would be any particular difficulty. I could
+give him all the necessary directions."
+
+"Just so."
+
+"I'll propose it to him."
+
+So, after supper, as Andy was going out into the woodshed for an
+armful of wood, Miss Priscilla stopped him.
+
+"Were you ever in Boston, Andy?" asked she.
+
+"No, ma'am."
+
+"I wish you had been."
+
+"Why, ma'am?"
+
+"Because I should like to send you there on some business."
+
+"I'll go, ma'am," said Andy, eagerly.
+
+Like most boys of his age, no proposition could have been more
+agreeable.
+
+"Do you think you could find your way there, and around the city?"
+
+"No fear of that, ma'am," said Andy, confidently.
+
+"We generally go ourselves, as you know, but my sister is sick, and I
+don't like to leave her."
+
+"Of course not, ma'am," said Andy, quite approving any plan that
+opened the way for a journey to him.
+
+"We own bank stock, and on the first of April they pay us dividends.
+Now, if we send you, do you think you can get to the bank, get the
+money, and bring it back safe?"
+
+"I'll do it for you, ma'am," said Andy.
+
+"Well, I'll think of it between now and next week. If we send you at
+all, you must start next Monday."
+
+"I'll go any day, ma'am," said Andy, "any day you name."
+
+Miss Priscilla finally decided to send Andrew, but cautioned him
+against saying anything about it, except to his own family.
+
+On Monday morning, just before the morning train was to start, Andrew
+appeared on the platform of the modest village depot with a small
+carpetbag in his hand, lent him by the Misses Grant.
+
+"Give me a ticket to Boston," said he to the station master.
+
+Godfrey Preston, who was about to return to his boarding school, had
+just purchased a ticket, and overheard this. He didn't much care to
+speak to Andy, but his curiosity overcame his pride.
+
+"Are you going to Boston?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," said Andy.
+
+"What are you going for?"
+
+"Important business."
+
+"Has Miss Grant turned you off?"
+
+"She didn't say anything about it this morning. Why, do you want to
+take my place?"
+
+"Do you think I'd stoop to be a hired boy?" said Godfrey, haughtily.
+
+"You wouldn't need to stoop," said Andy; "you ain't any too tall."
+
+Godfrey winced at this. He was not tall of his age, and he wanted to
+be. Andy had been growing faster than he, and was now, though scarcely
+as old, quite two inches taller.
+
+"It makes no difference about being tall," he rejoined. "I am a
+gentleman, and don't have to work for a living like you do."
+
+"What are you going to be when you grow up?"
+
+"A lawyer."
+
+"Then won't you work for money?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Then you'll be a hired man, and work for a living."
+
+"That's very different. When are you coming back?"
+
+"When I've finished my business."
+
+"How soon will that be?"
+
+"I can't tell yet."
+
+"Humph! I shouldn't wonder if you were running away."
+
+"Don't you tell anybody," said Andy, in a bantering tone.
+
+"Where did you get the money to pay for your ticket?"
+
+"What would you give to know?"
+
+"You are impudent," said Godfrey, his cheek flushing.
+
+"So are your questions," said Andy.
+
+"I dare say you stole it."
+
+"Look here, Godfrey Preston," said Andy, roused to indignation by this
+insinuation, "you'd better not say that again, if you know what's best
+for yourself."
+
+He advanced a step with a threatening look, and Godfrey instinctively
+receded.
+
+"That comes of my speaking to my inferior," he said.
+
+"You can't do that."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I don't know anybody that's inferior to you."
+
+Godfrey turned on his heel wrathfully, muttering something about a
+"low beggar," which Andy, not hearing, did not resent.
+
+The whistle of the locomotive was heard, and the cars came along.
+
+With high anticipation of pleasure, Andy got aboard. He had before him
+a journey of close upon a hundred miles, and he wished it had been
+longer. He had never been much of a traveler, and the scenes which
+were to greet his eyes were all novel. He had heard a good deal of
+Boston also, and he wanted to see it.
+
+Besides the money which Miss Grant had given him to defray his
+expenses, he had with him ten dollars of his own. Since his mother had
+received the two donations from Colonel Preston she made Andy keep
+half his wages for his own use. These were now seven dollars a week,
+so he kept three and a half, and of this sum was able to lay up about
+half. So he had a supply of money in his trunk, of which he had taken
+with him ten dollars.
+
+"Maybe I'll see something I want to buy in the city," he said to
+himself.
+
+I don't mean to dwell upon the journey. There is nothing very exciting
+in a railway trip, even of a hundred miles, nowadays, unless, indeed,
+the cars run off the track, or over the embankment, and then it is
+altogether too exciting to be agreeable. For the sake of my young
+hero, whom I really begin to like, though he was "only an Irish boy,"
+I am glad to say that nothing of that sort took place; but in good
+time--about the time when the clock on the Old South steeple indicated
+noon--Andy's train drove into the Boston & Maine Railway depot,
+fronting on Haymarket Square.
+
+"Inquire your way to Washington Street."
+
+That was the first direction that Andy had received from Miss
+Priscilla, and that was what our hero did first.
+
+The question was addressed to a very civil young man, who politely
+gave Andy the necessary directions. So, in a short time, he reached
+Washington Street by way of Court Street.
+
+The next thing was to inquire the way to the Merchants' Bank, that
+being the one in which the ladies owned the largest amount of stock.
+
+"Where is the Merchants' Bank?" asked Andy of a boy, whose
+blacking-box denoted his occupation.
+
+"I'll show you, mister," said the boy. "Come along." His young guide,
+instead of taking him to the bank, took him to the side door of the
+court-house, and said:
+
+"Go in there."
+
+It was a massive stone building, and Andy, not suspecting that he was
+being fooled, went in. Wandering at random, he found his way into a
+room, where a trial was going on. That opened his eyes.
+
+"He cheated me," thought Andy. "Maybe I'll get even with him."
+
+He retraced his steps, and again found himself in the street. His
+fraudulent young guide, with a grin on a face not over clean, was
+awaiting his appearance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+THE MERCHANT FROM PORTLAND
+
+
+"Look here, young chap," said Andy, "what made you tell me that was
+the Merchants' Bank?"
+
+"Isn't it?" asked the bootblack, with a grin.
+
+"It's the bank where you'll be wanted some time. Shouldn't wonder if
+they'd make a mistake and lock you up instead of your money."
+
+"Have you got any money in the Merchants' Bank?" asked the other.
+
+"I'm goin' to see if they won't give me some. If you hadn't cheated
+me, maybe I'd have invited you to dine with me at my hotel."
+
+"Where are you stoppin'?" asked the street boy, not quite knowing how
+much of Andy's story to believe.
+
+"At the most fashionable hotel."
+
+"Parker's?"
+
+"You're good at guessin'. Perhaps you'd like to dine there?"
+
+"I don't know as they'd let me in," said the boy, doubtfully; "but
+I'll show you where there's a nice eatin' house, where they don't
+charge half so much."
+
+"'Twouldn't be fashionable enough for me. I shall have to dine alone.
+See what comes of tryin' to fool your grandfather."
+
+Andy went on, leaving the boy in doubt whether his jest had really
+lost him a dinner.
+
+Andy didn't go to the Parker House, however. His expenses were to be
+paid by the Misses Grant, and he felt that it wouldn't be right to be
+extravagant at their expense.
+
+"I shall come across an eatin' house presently," he said to himself.
+
+Not far off he found one with the bill of fare exposed outside, with
+the prices. Andy examined it, and found that it was not an expensive
+place. He really felt hungry after his morning's ride, and determined,
+before he attended to his business, to get dinner. He accordingly
+entered, and seated himself at one of the tables. A waiter came up and
+awaited his commands.
+
+"What'll you have?" he asked.
+
+"Bring me a plate of roast beef, and a cup of coffee," said Andy, "and
+be quick about it, for I haven't eaten anything for three weeks."
+
+"Then I don't think one plate will be enough for you," said the
+waiter, laughing.
+
+"It'll do to begin on," said Andy.
+
+The order was quickly filled, and Andy set to work energetically.
+
+It is strange how we run across acquaintances when we least expect it.
+Andy had no idea that he knew anybody in the eating house, and
+therefore didn't look around, feeling no special interest in the
+company. Yet there was one present who recognized him as soon as he
+entered, and watched him with strong interest. The interest was not
+friendly, however, as might be inferred from the scowl with which he
+surveyed him. This will not be a matter of surprise to the reader when
+I say that the observer was no other than Fairfax, whose attempt to
+rob Colonel Preston had been defeated by Andy.
+
+He recognized the boy at once, both from his appearance and his voice,
+and deep feelings of resentment ran in his breast. To be foiled was
+disagreeable enough, but to be foiled by a boy was most humiliating,
+and he had vowed revenge, if ever an opportunity occurred. For this
+reason he felt exultant when he saw his enemy walking into the eating
+house.
+
+"I'll follow him," he said to himself, "and it'll go hard if I don't
+get even with him for that trick he played on me."
+
+But how did it happen that Andy did not recognize Fairfax?
+
+For two reasons: First, because the adventurer was sitting behind him,
+and our hero faced the front of the room. Next, had he seen him, it
+was doubtful if he would have recognized a man whom he was far from
+expecting to see. For Fairfax was skilled in disguises, and no longer
+was the black-whiskered individual that we formerly knew him. From
+motives of prudence, he had shaved off his black hair and whiskers,
+and now appeared in a red wig, and whiskers of the same hue. If any of
+my readers would like to know how effectual this disguise is, let them
+try it, and I will guarantee that they won't know themselves when they
+come to look at their likeness in the mirror.
+
+After disposing of what he had ordered, Andy also ordered a plate of
+apple dumpling, which he ate with great satisfaction.
+
+"I wouldn't mind eatin' here every day," he thought. "Maybe I'll be in
+business here some day myself, and then I'll come here and dine."
+
+Fairfax was through with his dinner, but waited till Andy arose. He
+then arose and followed him to the desk, where both paid at the same
+time. He was careless of recognition, for he felt confident in his
+disguise.
+
+"Now," thought Andy, "I must go to the bank."
+
+But he didn't know where the bank was. So, when he got into the
+street, he asked a gentleman whom he met: "Sir, can you direct me to
+the Merchants' Bank?"
+
+"It is in State Street," said the gentleman. "I am going past it, so
+if you will come along with me, I will show you."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said our hero, politely.
+
+"Merchants' Bank!" said Fairfax to himself, beginning to feel
+interested. "I wonder what he's going there for? Perhaps I can raise a
+little money, besides having my revenge."
+
+He had an added inducement now in following our hero.
+
+When Andy went into the bank, Fairfax followed him. He was in the room
+when Andy received the dividends, and, with sparkling eyes, he saw
+that it was, a thick roll of bills, representing, no doubt, a
+considerable sum of money.
+
+"That money must be mine," he said to himself. "It can't be the boy's.
+He must have been sent by some other person. The loss will get him
+into trouble. Very likely he will be considered a thief. That would
+just suit me."
+
+Andy was careful, however. He put the money into a pocketbook, or,
+rather, wallet, with which he had been supplied by the Misses Grant,
+put it in his inside pocket, and then buttoned his coat up tight. He
+was determined not to lose anything by carelessness.
+
+But this was not his last business visit. There was another bank in
+the same street where it was necessary for him to call and receive
+dividends. Again Fairfax followed him, and again he saw Andy receive a
+considerable sum of money.
+
+"There's fat pickings here," thought Fairfax. "Now, I must manage, in
+some way, to relieve him of that money. There's altogether too much
+for a youngster like him. Shouldn't wonder if the money belonged to
+that man I tried to rob. If so, all the better."
+
+In this conjecture, as we know, Fairfax was mistaken. However, it made
+comparatively little difference to him whose money it was, as long as
+there was a chance of his getting it into his possession. The fact
+was, that his finances were not in a very flourishing condition just
+at present. He could have done better to follow some honest and
+respectable business, and avoid all the dishonest shifts and
+infractions of law to which he was compelled to resort, but he had
+started wrong, and it was difficult to persuade him that even now it
+would have been much better for him to amend his life and ways. In
+this state of affairs he thought it a great piece of good luck that he
+should have fallen in with a boy in charge of a large sum of money,
+whom, from his youth and inexperience, he would have less trouble in
+robbing than an older person.
+
+Andy had already decided how he would spend the afternoon. He had
+heard a good deal about the Boston Museum, its large collection of
+curiosities, and the plays that were performed there. One of the
+pleasantest anticipations he had was of a visit to this place, the
+paradise of country people. Now that his business was concluded, he
+determined to go there at once. But first he must inquire the way.
+
+Turning around, he saw Fairfax without recognizing him.
+
+"Can you direct me to the Boston Museum?" he asked.
+
+"Certainly, with pleasure," said Fairfax, with alacrity. "In fact, I
+am going there myself. I suppose you are going to the afternoon
+performance?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Have you ever been there?"
+
+"No; but I have heard a good deal about it. I don't live in the city."
+
+"Nor do I," said Fairfax. "I am a merchant of Portland, Maine. I have
+come to the city to buy my winter stock of goods. As I only come twice
+a year, I generally try to enjoy myself a little while I am here. Do
+you stay in the city overnight?"
+
+"Yes," said Andy.
+
+"So do I. Here is the Museum."
+
+They had reached the Museum, which, as some of my readers are aware,
+is situated in Tremont Street.
+
+"We go up these stairs," said Fairfax. "If you don't object, we will
+take seats together."
+
+"I shall be glad to have company," said Andy, politely.
+
+Reserved seats adjoining were furnished, and the adventurer and his
+intended victim entered the Museum.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+SPINNING THE WEB
+
+
+There was a short interval before the play commenced. This Andy
+improved by examining the large stock of curiosities which have been
+gathered from all parts of the world for the gratification of
+visitors. Fairfax kept at his side, and spoke freely of all they saw.
+There was something about him which seemed to Andy strangely familiar.
+Was it in his features, or in his voice? He could not tell. The red
+whig and whiskers misled him. Andy finally set it down as a mere
+chance resemblance to someone whom he had met formerly, and dismissed
+it from his mind.
+
+At length the increasing crowds pouring into the lecture-room reminded
+them that the play was about to begin.
+
+"Shall we go in and take our seats?" said Fairfax.
+
+Andy assented, and they were speedily in their seats.
+
+I do not propose to speak of the play. It was a novelty to Andy to see
+a dramatic representation, and he thoroughly enjoyed it. Fairfax was
+more accustomed to such things, but pretended to be equally
+interested, feeling that in this way he could ingratiate himself
+better into Andy's confidence.
+
+At last it was over, and they went out of the building.
+
+"How did you like it?" asked Fairfax.
+
+"Tiptop," said Andy, promptly. "Don't you think so?"
+
+"Capital," answered Fairfax, with simulated delight. "I am glad I had
+company. I don't enjoy anything half as well alone. By the way, where
+do you pass the night?"
+
+"At some hotel--I don't know which."
+
+"Suppose you go to the Adams House. I've got to stop overnight
+somewhere, and it might be pleasanter going in company."
+
+"Where is the Adams House?"
+
+"On Washington Street, not very far off--ten or fifteen minutes'
+walk."
+
+"If it's a good place, I'm willing."
+
+"It is an excellent hotel, and moderate in price. We might go up there
+now, and engage a room, and then spend the evening where we like."
+
+"Very well," said Andy.
+
+They soon reached the Adams House--a neat, unpretending hotel--and
+entered. They walked up to the desk, and Fairfax spoke to the clerk.
+
+"Can you give us a room?"
+
+"Certainly. Enter your names."
+
+"Shall we room together?" asked Fairfax, calmly.
+
+Now Andy, though he had had no objection to going to the theater with
+his present companion, did not care to take a room with a stranger, of
+whom he knew nothing. He might be a very respectable man, but somehow,
+Andy did not know why, there was something in his manner which
+inspired a little repulsion. Besides, he remembered that he had
+considerable money with him, and that consideration alone rendered it
+imprudent for him to put himself in the power of a companion. So he
+said, a little awkwardly:
+
+"I think we'd better take separate rooms."
+
+"Very well," said Fairfax, in a tone of indifference, though he really
+felt very much disappointed. "I thought it might have been a little
+more sociable to be together."
+
+Andy did not take the hint, except so far as to say:
+
+"We can take rooms alongside of each other."
+
+"I can give you adjoining rooms, if you desire," said the clerk.
+
+Fairfax here entered his name in the hotel register as "Nathaniel
+Marvin, Portland, Maine," while Andy put down his real address. His
+companion's was, of course, fictitious. He did not venture to give the
+name of Fairfax, as that might be recognized by Andy as that of the
+highwayman, with whose little plans he had interfered.
+
+A servant was called, and they went up to their rooms, which, as the
+clerk had promised, were found to be adjoining. They were precisely
+alike.
+
+"Very comfortable, Mr. Burke," said Fairfax, in a tone of apparent
+satisfaction. "I think we shall have a comfortable night."
+
+"I guess so," said Andy.
+
+"Are you going to stay here now?"
+
+"No; I'm going to wash my face, and then take a walk around. I want to
+see something of the city."
+
+"I think I'll lie down awhile; I feel tired. Perhaps we shall meet
+later. If not, I shall see you in the morning."
+
+"All right," said Andy.
+
+In a few minutes he went out.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+THE DROP GAME
+
+
+Fairfax had an object in remaining behind. He wanted to see if there
+was any way for him to get into Andy's room during the night, that he
+might rob him in his sleep. To his great satisfaction, he found that
+there was a door between the two rooms, for the accommodation of
+persons in the same party, who wished to be in adjoining apartments.
+It was, however, locked, but Fairfax was not unprepared for such an
+emergency. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and tried them,
+one after another, in the lock. There was one that would very nearly
+fit. For this again, Fairfax was prepared. He took from the same
+pocket a file, and began patiently to file away the key till it should
+fit. He tried it several times before he found that it fitted. But at
+last success crowned his efforts. The door opened.
+
+His eyes danced with exultation, as he saw this.
+
+"I might as well be in the same room," he said, to himself. "Now, you
+young rascal, I shall take your money, and be revenged upon you at the
+same time."
+
+He carefully locked the door, and then, feeling that he had done all
+that was necessary to do at present, went downstairs, and took supper.
+Andy was out, and did not see him.
+
+Meanwhile, our young hero was out seeing the sights. He walked up
+Washington Street, and at Boylston Street turned and reached Tremont
+Street, when he saw the Common before him. It looked pleasant, and
+Andy crossed the street, and entered. He walked wherever fancy led,
+and then found himself, after a while, in a comparatively secluded
+part. Here he met with an adventure, which I must describe.
+
+Rather a shabby-looking individual in front of him suddenly stooped
+and picked up a pocketbook, which appeared to be well filled with
+money. He looked up, and met Andy's eyes fixed upon it. This was what
+he wanted.
+
+"Here's a pocketbook," he said. "Somebody must have dropped it."
+
+Andy was interested.
+
+"It seems to have considerable money in it," said the finder.
+
+"Open it, and see," said Andy.
+
+"I hain't time. I have got to leave the city by the next train. I
+mean, I haven't time to advertise it, and get the reward which the
+owner will be sure to offer. Are you going to stay in the city long?"
+
+"I'm going out to-morrow."
+
+"I must go. I wish I knew what to do."
+
+He seemed to be plunged into anxious thought.
+
+"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said, as if a bright idea had
+suddenly struck him. "You take the pocketbook, and advertise it. If
+the owner is found, he will give you a reward. If not, the whole will
+belong to you."
+
+"All right," said Andy. "Hand it over."
+
+"Of course," said the other, "I shall expect something myself, as I
+was the one to find it."
+
+"I'll give you half."
+
+"But I shall be out of the city. I'll tell you what give me ten
+dollars, and I'll make it over to you."
+
+"That's rather steep," said Andy.
+
+"Heft it. There must be a lot of money inside."
+
+"I'm afraid the reward might be less than ten dollars," said Andy.
+
+"Well, I'm in a great hurry--give me five."
+
+It is possible that Andy, who was not acquainted with the "drop game,"
+might have agreed to this, but a policeman hove in sight, and the
+shabby individual scuttled away without further ceremony, leaving Andy
+a little surprised, with the pocketbook in his hand.
+
+"What's he in such a hurry for?" thought our hero.
+
+He opened the pocketbook, and a light flashed upon him, as he
+perceived that there was no money inside, but was stuffed with rolls
+of paper.
+
+"He wanted to swindle me," thought Andy. "It's lucky I didn't pay him
+five dollars. Anyway, I'll keep it. The pocketbook is worth
+something."
+
+He put it in his pocket, without taking the trouble to remove the
+contents.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+THE GUEST OF TWO HOTELS
+
+
+Andy wandered about till nine o'clock, determined to see as much of
+the city as possible in the limited time which he had at his disposal;
+but at last he became tired, and returned to the hotel. Fairfax was
+seated in the reading-room. He looked up as Andy entered.
+
+"Have you been looking around the city?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," said Andy; "I wanted to improve my time."
+
+"I suppose, as this is your first visit, you see a good deal that is
+new?"
+
+"It's all new," said Andy. "I feel tired, walking around so much."
+
+"No doubt. Are you going to bed now?"
+
+"I guess I'll turn in."
+
+"I shan't go up quite yet. I have been staying here quietly, and I
+don't feel tired. I shall go up in the course of an hour or two."
+
+"Good-night, then," said Andy.
+
+"Good-night. I hope you'll sleep sound," said Fairfax, who was
+certainly entirely sincere in this wish, as the success of his plans
+depended on the soundness of our hero's repose.
+
+Andy went upstairs, and lighted the gas in his bedroom. He noticed the
+door communicating with the next one, and tried it, but found it to be
+locked.
+
+"That's all right," said Andy. "Nobody can get in that way."
+
+He locked the principal door, and bolted it, also, which seemed to
+make him perfectly secure.
+
+"Now," thought he, after undressing, "where shall I put the money?"
+
+This was an important question, as he had between five hundred and a
+thousand dollars belonging to the Misses Grant, of which it was his
+duty to take even more care than if it belonged to himself.
+
+"I guess I'll put it under the bolster," he reflected, "covering it up
+with the sheet. Nobody can get in, that I can see, but it is best to
+be careful."
+
+In emptying his pockets, he came across the pocketbook, with its sham
+contents, of which mention has already been made.
+
+"I'll leave that in my pocket," he said to himself, with a smile. "I'm
+not afraid of losing that. By the powers, it wouldn't be much of a
+prize to the man that took it; I'm sure of that."
+
+He laid his clothes on a chair, in the middle of the room, and jumped
+into bed, when he soon sank into a deep sleep.
+
+Meanwhile, Fairfax remained below in the reading-room. He was not at
+all sleepy, as he had told Andy, and his mind was full of the scheme
+of robbery, which appeared so promising. He was glad Andy had retired
+so early, as he would be asleep sooner, and this would make things
+favorable for his entering his young companion's chamber. It was his
+intention, after he had secured the "plunder"--to adopt a Western
+phrase--to come downstairs and leave the hotel, not to return, as
+otherwise, as soon as Andy should discover his loss, the door between
+the two rooms would, naturally, point to him as the thief.
+
+He didn't go up to his room till half-past ten. This was an hour and a
+half later than Andy retired, and would give him a chance to get fast
+asleep.
+
+"He must be asleep now," he thought.
+
+On reaching the corridor on which both of the chambers were situated,
+he stood a moment before Andy's door, and listened. It was not often
+that our young hero was guilty of snoring, but to-night he was weary,
+and had begun to indulge in this nocturnal disturbance. The sounds
+which he heard were very satisfactory to Fairfax.
+
+"The boy's fast asleep," he muttered. "I'll go into his room, and make
+quick work of it. Fairfax, you're in luck, for once. Fortune has taken
+a turn."
+
+Softly he opened the door of his own room, and entered. He lit the
+gas, and then, going to the door of communication between the two
+rooms, he listened again. There was no cessation of the sounds which
+he had heard from the outside. He determined to make the attempt at
+once. Taking the proper key from his pocket, he fitted it into the
+lock, and, turning it, the door opened, and he stepped into the
+adjoining apartment. It was dark, for Andy had extinguished the gas on
+going to bed, but the gas from his own room made it sufficiently light
+for his purpose. He at once caught sight of Andy's clothes lying on
+the chair, where he had placed them. He glanced cautiously at our
+hero, as he lay extended upon the bed, with one arm flung out, but he
+saw no reason for alarm. Quickly he glided to the chair with noiseless
+step (he had removed his boots, by way of precaution), and thrust his
+hand into the pocket of the coat. It came in contact with the false
+pocketbook, which seemed bulky and full of money. Fairfax never
+doubted that it was the right one, and quickly thrust it into his own
+pocket. Just then Andy moved a little in bed, and Fairfax retreated,
+hastily, through the door, closing it after him.
+
+"Now, the sooner I get out of this hotel, the better!" he thought.
+"The boy may wake and discover his loss. It isn't likely, but it may
+happen. At any rate it's very much better to be on the safe side."
+
+He did not stop to examine the prize which he had secured. He had no
+doubt whatever that it contained the money he was after. To stop to
+count it might involve him in peril. He, therefore, put on his boots,
+and glided out of the chamber and downstairs.
+
+To the clerk who was at the desk he said, as he surrendered his key:
+
+"How late do you keep open? Till after midnight?"
+
+"Certainly," was the reply.
+
+"All right. I may be out till late."
+
+He left the key, and went out into the street. He hailed a passing car
+in Tremont Street, and rode for some distance. In Court Street he got
+on board a Charlestown car, and in half an hour found himself in the
+city everywhere known by the granite shaft that commemorates the
+battle of Bunker Hill. He made his way to a hotel, where he took a
+room, entering here under the name of James Simmons, Portsmouth, New
+Hampshire. Anxious to examine his prize, he desired to be shown at
+once to a chamber. He followed the servant who conducted him with
+impatient steps. The stolen money was burning in his pocket. He wanted
+to know how much he had, and was more than half resolved to take an
+early train the next morning for the West, where he thought he should
+be secure from discovery.
+
+"Is there anything wanted, sir?" asked the servant, lingering at the
+door.
+
+"No, no," said Fairfax, impatiently. "It's all right."
+
+"Might be a little more polite," muttered the snubbed servant, as he
+went downstairs.
+
+"Now for it!" exclaimed Fairfax, exultingly. "Now, let me see how much
+I have got."
+
+He drew the pocketbook from his pocket, and opened it. His heart gave
+a quick thump, and he turned ashy pale, as his glance rested upon the
+worthless roll of brown paper with which it had been stuffed.
+
+"Curse the boy!" he cried, in fierce and bitter disappointment. "He
+has fooled me, after all! Why didn't I stop long enough to open the
+pocketbook before I came away? Blind, stupid fool that I was! I am as
+badly off as before--nay, worse, for I have exposed myself to
+suspicion, and haven't got a penny to show for it."
+
+I will not dwell upon his bitter self-reproaches, and, above all, the
+intense mortification he felt at having been so completely fooled by a
+boy, whom he had despised as verdant and inexperienced in the ways of
+the, world--to think that success had been in his grasp, and he had
+missed it, after all, was certainly disagreeable enough. It occurred
+to him that he might go back to the Adams House even now, and repair
+his blunder. It was not likely that Andy was awake yet. He was very
+weary, and boys of his age were likely, unless disturbed, to sleep
+through the night. He might retrieve his error, and no one would be
+the wiser.
+
+"I'll do it," he said, at length.
+
+He went downstairs, and left the hotel without the knowledge of the
+clerk. Jumping into the horse-cars, he returned to Boston, and entered
+the Adams House about half-past twelve o'clock. He claimed his key at
+the desk, and went upstairs to his room. He had scarcely lit the gas,
+however, when a knock was heard at the door. Opening it
+unsuspiciously, he turned pale, as he recognized the clerk, in company
+with an officer of the law.
+
+"What's wanted?" he faltered.
+
+"You are wanted," was the brief reply.
+
+"What for?" he gasped.
+
+"You are charged with entering the adjoining room, and stealing a
+pocketbook from the boy who sleeps there."
+
+"It's a lie!" he said, but his tone was nervous.
+
+"You must submit to a search," said the officer.
+
+"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Fairfax, assuming an air of
+outraged virtue.
+
+"Not at all. I am only giving you a chance to clear yourself from
+suspicion."
+
+"I am a respectable merchant from Portland. I was never so insulted in
+my life," said Fairfax.
+
+"If the charge proves groundless, I will make you an ample apology,"
+said the officer.
+
+Fairfax was compelled to submit to the search. He cursed his stupidity
+in not throwing away the worthless pocketbook, but this he had
+neglected to do, and, of course, it was very significant evidence
+against him. Not only was this found, but the variety of keys already
+referred to.
+
+"You carry a great many keys," said the officer.
+
+"It isn't a crime to carry keys, is it?" demanded Fairfax, sullenly.
+
+"Not if no improper use is made of them. I suspect that one of them
+will open the door into the next chamber."
+
+The keys were tried, and one did open the door. As the light flashed
+into the room, Andy got up.
+
+"Come here, young man," said the officer. "Can you identify that
+pocketbook?"
+
+"I can," said Andy.
+
+"Is it yours?"
+
+"When I went to bed, it was in the pocket of my coat, lying on that
+chair."
+
+"It is certainly a wonderful pocketbook. I have just found it in that
+gentleman's pocket."
+
+Fairfax's eyes were bent malignantly upon Andy. A light flashed upon
+him. Now, he recognized him.
+
+"I know you," he said. "You are the man that stopped Colonel Preston,
+and tried to rob him."
+
+"You lie, curse you!" exclaimed Fairfax, springing forward, and trying
+to throw himself upon Andy. But he was not quick enough. The officer
+had interposed, and seized him by the collar.
+
+"Not so fast, Mr. Marvin, or whatever your name is. We don't allow any
+such games as that. Sit down till I want you."
+
+The baffled adventurer was jerked into a chair, from which he
+continued to eye Andy savagely.
+
+"What's that affair you were talking about, young man?" asked the
+officer.
+
+Andy briefly related his adventure with Fairfax on a former occasion.
+
+"I'll trouble you to come with me, Mr. Marvin, or Fairfax," said the
+officer. "There's another hotel where lodgings are provided for such
+as you."
+
+Resistance was useless, and the detected thief, though his name was
+registered at two hotels, was compelled to occupy a less agreeable
+room at the station-house. How he was detected will be explained in
+the next chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+A STARTLING EVENT
+
+
+Sometimes, the mere presence of a person in the room is sufficient to
+interrupt even sound repose. At all events, whether it was the
+entrance of Fairfax, acting in some mysterious way upon Andy, or the
+light that streamed into the room, his slumber was disturbed, and his
+eyes opened just as the adventurer was retiring, with his supposed
+booty.
+
+Our hero did not immediately take in the situation. He was naturally a
+little bewildered, being just aroused from sleep, but in a short time
+the real state of the case dawned upon him.
+
+"By the powers!" he said to himself, "it's that man that went to the
+museum with me! He saw my money, and he came in for it! I'll get up
+and see."
+
+Quietly and noiselessly he got out of bed, and, going to the chair,
+felt in his pockets, and so discovered the loss of the stuffed
+pocketbook.
+
+Andy wanted to laugh, but forbore, lest the sound should be heard in
+the next room.
+
+"It's a good joke on the dirty thafe!" said Andy, to himself. "He's
+welcome to all the money, he's got--it won't carry him far, I'm
+thinkin'."
+
+Prudence suggested another thought. When Fairfax found out the
+worthlessness of his booty, would he not come back and search for the
+real treasure?
+
+"If he does, I'll fight him," thought Andy.
+
+Still, he knew the conflict would be unequal, since the other was
+considerably his superior in strength. However, Andy determined that,
+come what might, he would defend his trust, "or perish in the
+attempt." But, while he was coming to this determination, he heard the
+door of the adjoining chamber open softly, and then he could hear
+steps along the corridor. Evidently, the thief had not found out the
+actual character of his booty, but was going off under the impression
+that it was valuable.
+
+"Maybe he'll come back," thought Andy. "I guess I'd better go down and
+give notice at the desk. Then, if he comes back, he'll get into hot
+water."
+
+He hastily dressed himself, and, locking his door, went downstairs.
+First, however, he removed the money from under his pillow, and put it
+into his pocket. He found the clerk at the desk.
+
+"Has the man that came in with me gone out?" asked Andy.
+
+"Mr. Marvin?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"He went out about five minutes ago."
+
+"Did he say anything about coming back?"
+
+"He said it would be late when he returned. He asked me if we kept
+open after twelve. Did you want to find him?"
+
+"I should like to have the police find him," said Andy.
+
+"How is that?" asked the clerk, surprised.
+
+"He has robbed me."
+
+"Did you leave your door unlocked?"
+
+"No; but there was a door between our rooms. He opened it, and stole a
+pocketbook from the pocket of my coat."
+
+"While you were asleep?"
+
+"Yes; but I awoke just in time to see him go through the door."
+
+"How much money was there in it?"
+
+"That's the joke of it," said Andy, laughing; "there was no money at
+all, only some folds of paper. He got hold of the wrong pocketbook."
+
+Thereupon, he told the story of the "drop game," of which he came near
+being a victim, and what a useful turn the bogus treasure had done
+him.
+
+"There's the right pocketbook," he said, in conclusion. "I wish you
+would take care of it for me till to-morrow. The money isn't mine, and
+I don't want to run any more risk with it."
+
+"I'll lock it up in the safe for you," said the clerk. "Is there
+much?"
+
+"Several hundred dollars."
+
+"You were very fortunate in escaping as you did," said the clerk.
+
+"True for you," said Andy. "He may come back when he finds out how he
+has been fooled."
+
+"If he does, I'll call a policeman. We'll make short work with him."
+
+The reader has already heard how Fairfax (or Marvin) did return, and
+how he met with a reception he had not calculated upon. Andy was
+informed in the morning that it would be necessary for him to appear
+as a witness against him in order to secure his conviction. This he
+did the next day, but the judge delayed sentence, on being informed
+that the accused was charged with a more serious offense, that of
+stopping a traveler on the highway. His trial on this count must come
+before a higher court, and he was remanded to prison till his case was
+called in the calendar. Andy was informed that he would be summoned as
+a witness in that case also, as well as Colonel Preston, and answered
+that he would be ready when called upon.
+
+We will so far anticipate events as to say that the testimony of Andy
+and the colonel was considered conclusive by the court, and, on the
+strength of it, Mr. Fairfax, alias Marvin, was sentenced to several
+years' imprisonment at hard labor.
+
+Andy met with no further adventures in his present visit, but had the
+satisfaction of delivering the money he had been sent to collect to
+Miss Priscilla Grant.
+
+Now, advancing our story some three months, we come to an afternoon
+when Miss Sophia Grant, returning from a walk, with visible marks of
+excitement, rushed, breathless and panting, into her sister's
+presence.
+
+"What's the matter, Sophia?" asked Priscilla.
+
+"Such an awful thing!" she gasped.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"You won't believe it."
+
+"Tell me at once what it is!"
+
+"It seems so sudden!"
+
+"Good heavens! Sophia, why do you tantalize me so?"
+
+"Just so!" gasped Sophia.
+
+"If you don't tell me, I'll shake you!"
+
+"Colonel Preston's dead--dropped dead in the store ten minutes ago. I
+was there, and saw him."
+
+This startling intelligence was only too true. Suddenly, without an
+instant's warning, the colonel had been summoned from life--succumbing
+to a fit of apoplexy. This event, of course, made a great sensation in
+the village, but it is of most interest to us as it affects the
+fortunes of our young hero.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+COLONEL PRESTON'S WILL
+
+
+Mrs. Preston was a cold woman, and was far from being a devoted wife.
+She was too selfish for that supreme love which some women bestow upon
+their husbands. Still, when Colonel Preston's lifeless form was
+brought into the house, she did experience a violent shock. To have
+the companion of nearly twenty years so unexpectedly taken away might
+well touch the most callous, and so, for a few minutes, Mrs. Preston
+forgot herself and thought of her husband.
+
+But this was not for long. The thought of her own selfish interests
+came back, and in the midst of her apparent grief the question forced
+itself upon her consideration, "Did my husband make a will?"
+
+Of course, she did not give utterance to this query. She knew what was
+expected of her, and she was prudent enough to keep up appearances
+before the neighbors, who poured into the house to offer their
+sympathy. She received them with her cambric handkerchief pressed to
+her eyes, from which, by dint of effort, she succeeded in squeezing a
+few formal tears, and, while her bosom appeared to heave with emotion,
+she was mentally calculating how much Colonel Preston had probably
+left.
+
+"Shan't I stay with you, my dear Mrs. Preston?" said worthy Mrs.
+Cameron, in a tone full of warm interest and sympathy.
+
+"Thank you," said Mrs. Preston, in a low voice; "you are very kind,
+but I would rather be left alone."
+
+"But it must be so sad for you to be alone in your sorrow," said her
+neighbor.
+
+"No. I can bear sorrow better alone," said the newly made widow.
+"Perhaps I am peculiar, but I would prefer it."
+
+"If you really wish it," said the other, reluctantly.
+
+"Yes, I wish it. Thank you for your kind offer, but I know my own
+feelings, and the presence of others would only increase my pain."
+
+This was what she said to others who made the same offer. It did not
+excite great surprise, for Mrs. Preston had never leaned upon anyone
+for sympathy, nor was she ready with her sympathy when others were in
+trouble. She was self-poised and self-contained, and, in fact, for
+this reason was not popular with her neighbors. Still, in this her
+distress they were ready to forget all this and extend the same
+cordial sympathy which they would have done in other cases. There was
+but one person whose company she did crave at this time and this was
+her son, Godfrey. So, when Alfred Turner offered to go for him the
+next morning, she accepted his offer with thanks.
+
+At last she was left alone. The servant had gone to bed, and there was
+no one but herself and her dead husband in the lower part of the
+house. She no longer sat with her handkerchief pressed before her
+eyes. Her face wore its usual look of calm composure. She was busily
+thinking, not of her husband's fate, but of her own future.
+
+"Did he leave a will? And, if so, how much did he leave me?" she
+thought.
+
+If there was a will, it was probably in the house, and Mrs. Preston
+determined to find it, if possible.
+
+"Of course, all ought to come to me and Godfrey," she soliloquized. "I
+don't think it is right to leave money to charitable institutions as
+long as a wife and child are living. Fortunately, my husband had no
+brothers or sisters, or perhaps he would have divided the property. If
+there is no will, I shall have my thirds, and shall have the control
+of Godfrey's property till he comes of age. I think I will go to
+Boston to live. My friend, Mrs. Boynton, has a very pleasant house on
+Worcester Street. I should like to settle down somewhere near her. I
+don't know how much Mr. Preston was worth, but I am sure we shall have
+enough for that. I always wanted to live in the city. This village is
+intolerably stupid, and so are the people. I shall be glad to get
+away."
+
+Could the good women, whose kind hearts had prompted them to proffer
+their sympathy, have heard these words they would not have been likely
+to obtrude any more on the hard, cold woman who held them in such low
+estimation.
+
+Mrs. Preston took the lamp in her hand, and began to explore her
+husband's desk. She had often thought of doing so, but, as his death
+was not supposed to be so near, she had not thought that there was any
+immediate cause of doing so. Besides, it had almost been her belief
+that he had made no will. Now she began to open drawers and untie
+parcels of papers, but it was some time before she came to what she
+sought. At length, however, her diligence was rewarded. In the middle
+of a pile of papers, she found one labeled on the outside:
+
+
+                            MY WILL.
+
+
+Her heart beat as she opened it, and, though there was no need, for it
+was now past ten o'clock, and there was not likely to be a caller at
+that late hour, she looked cautiously about her, and even peered out
+of the window into the darkness, but could find no one whose
+observation she might fear.
+
+I am not about to recite at length the items in the will, which
+covered a page of foolscap. It is enough to quote two items, which
+Mrs. Preston read with anger and dissatisfaction. They are as follows:
+
+
+    "Item.--To my young friend, Andy Burke, son of the widow
+    Burke, of this village, in consideration of a valuable
+    service rendered to me on one occasion, and as a mark of my
+    regard and interest, I give and bequeath the sum of five
+    thousand dollars; and to his mother, as a token of gratitude
+    for her faithful nursing when I was dangerously sick with the
+    smallpox, I give and bequeath, free of all incumbrance, the
+    cottage in which she at present resides.
+
+    "Item.--To the town I give five thousand dollars, the
+    interest to be annually appropriated to the purchase of books
+    for a public library, for the benefit of all the citizens,
+    provided the town will provide some suitable place in which
+    to keep them."
+
+
+All the balance of the property was left to his wife and son, in equal
+proportions, his wife to be the guardian of Godfrey till he should
+have attained his majority. As Colonel Preston was well known to be
+rich, this seemed to be an adequate provision, but Mrs. Preston did
+not look upon it in that light. On the contrary, she was deeply
+incensed at the two legacies of which mention has been made above.
+
+"Was ever anything more absurd than to waste five thousand dollars and
+a house upon that Irish boy and his mother?" she said to herself. "I
+don't suppose it was so much my husband's fault. That artful woman got
+around him, and wheedled him into it. I know now why she was so
+willing to come here and take care of him when he was sick. She wanted
+to wheedle him into leaving money to her low-lived boy. She is an
+artful and designing hussy, and I should like to tell her so to her
+face."
+
+The cold and usually impassible woman was deeply excited. Her selfish
+nature made her grudge any of her husband's estate to others, except,
+indeed, to Godfrey, who was the only person she cared for. As she
+thought over the unjust disposition, as she regarded it, which her
+husband had made of his property, a red spot glowed in her usually
+pale cheek.
+
+Then it was another grievance that money should have been left to the
+town.
+
+"What claim had the town on my husband," she thought, "that he should
+give it five thousand dollars? In doing it, he was robbing Godfrey and
+me. It was wrong. He had no right to do it. What do I care for these
+people? They are a set of common farmers and mechanics, with whom I
+condescend to associate because I have no one else here, except the
+minister's and the doctor's family, to speak to. Soon I shall be in
+the city, and then I don't care if I never set eyes on any of them
+again. In Boston I can find suitable society."
+
+The more Mrs. Preston thought of it, the more she felt aggravated by
+the thought that so large a share of her husband's property was to go
+to others. She fixed her eyes thoughtfully on the document which she
+held in her hand, and a strong temptation came to her.
+
+"If this should disappear," she said to herself, "the money would be
+all mine and Godfrey's, and no one would be the wiser. That Irish boy
+and his mother would stay where they belonged, and my Godfrey would
+have his own. Why should I not burn it? It would only be just."
+
+Deluding herself by this false view, she persuaded herself that it was
+right to suppress the will. With steady hand she held it to the flame
+of the lamp, and watched it as it was slowly consumed. Then, gathering
+up the fragments, she threw them away.
+
+"It is all ours now," she whispered, triumphantly, as she prepared to
+go to bed. "It was lucky I found the will."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+MRS. PRESTON'S INTENTIONS
+
+
+Godfrey returned home on the day after his father's death. He had
+never witnessed death before, and it frightened him, for the time,
+into propriety. He exhibited none of the stormy and impetuous grief
+which a warm-hearted and affectionate boy would have been likely to
+exhibit. It was not in his nature.
+
+When he and his mother were left alone, he showed his resemblance to
+her, by asking:
+
+"Do you know how much property father left?"
+
+"I don't know. He never told me about his affairs as he ought. I think
+he must have left near a hundred thousand dollars."
+
+Godfrey's eyes sparkled.
+
+"That's a pile of money," he said. "It goes to me, don't it?"
+
+"To us," said Mrs. Preston.
+
+"A woman doesn't need so much money as a man," said Godfrey,
+selfishly.
+
+"You are not a man yet," said his mother, dryly. "Your father may have
+left a will. In that case, he may have left a part of his property to
+others."
+
+"Do you think he has?" inquired Godfrey, in alarm.
+
+"I don't think any will will be found," said his mother, quietly. "He
+never spoke to me of making one."
+
+"Of course not. That wouldn't be fair, would it?"
+
+"It is fitting that the property should all go to us."
+
+"When shall I get mine?"
+
+"When you are twenty-one."
+
+"That's a long time to wait," said Godfrey, grumblingly.
+
+"You are only a boy yet. I shall probably be your guardian."
+
+"I hope you'll give me a larger allowance than father did."
+
+"I will."
+
+"Must I go back to boarding school? I don't want to."
+
+"If I go to Boston to live, as I think I shall, I will take you with
+me, and you can go to school there."
+
+"That'll be jolly," said Godfrey, his eyes sparkling with
+anticipation. "I've got tired of this miserable town."
+
+"So have I," said his mother. "We shall have more privileges in
+Boston."
+
+"I can go to the theater as often as I please there, can't I?"
+
+"We will see about that."
+
+"How soon shall we move to the city?"
+
+"As soon as business will allow. I must settle up your father's
+affairs here."
+
+"Can't I go beforehand?"
+
+"Would you leave me alone?" asked his mother, with a little touch of
+wounded affection, for she did feel attached to her son. He was the
+only one, indeed, for whom she felt any affection.
+
+"You won't miss me, mother. It'll be awfully stupid here, and you know
+you'll be coming to the city as soon as you get through with the
+business."
+
+Mrs. Preston was disappointed, but she should not have been surprised.
+Her only son reflected her own selfishness.
+
+"It would not look well for you to go to the theater just at the
+present," she said.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"So soon after your father's death."
+
+Godfrey said nothing, but looked discontented. It was early to think
+of amusement, while his father lay yet unburied in the next room. He
+left the room, whistling. He could not gainsay his mother's
+objections, but he thought it hard luck.
+
+A funeral in a country village is a public occasion. Friends and
+neighbors are expected to be present without invitation. Among those
+who assembled at the house were Mrs. Burke and Andy. They felt truly
+sorry for the death of Colonel Preston, who had been a friend to both.
+Mrs. Preston saw them enter, and, notwithstanding the solemnity of the
+occasion, the thought intruded: "They're after the legacy, but they
+will be disappointed. I've taken good care of that."
+
+Godfrey saw them, also, and his thought was a characteristic one:
+
+"What business has that Irish boy at my father's funeral? He ought to
+know better than to poke himself in where he is not wanted."
+
+Even Godfrey, however, had the decency to let this thought remain
+unspoken. The services proceeded, and among those who followed on foot
+in the funeral procession were Andy and his mother. It never occurred
+to them that they were intruding. They wanted to show respect for the
+memory of one who had been a friend to them.
+
+On the day after the funeral Squire Tisdale called at the house,
+invited by Mrs. Preston. The squire had a smattering of law, and often
+acted as executor in settling estates.
+
+"I invited you to come here, Squire Tisdale," said Mrs. Preston, "to
+speak about my affairs. Of course, it is very trying to me to think of
+business so soon after the death of my dear husband"--here she
+pressed her handkerchief to her tearless eyes--"but I feel it to be my
+duty to myself and my boy."
+
+"Of course," said the squire, soothingly. "We can't give way to our
+feelings, however much we want to."
+
+"That is my feeling," said Mrs. Preston, whose manner was wonderfully
+cool and collected, considering the grief which she desired to have it
+thought she experienced for her husband.
+
+"Did Colonel Preston leave a will?" asked the squire.
+
+"I don't think he did. He never mentioned making one to me. Did you
+ever hear of his making any?"
+
+"I can't say that I ever did. I suppose it will be best to search."
+
+"Won't it be more proper for you to make the search, Squire Tisdale?"
+said the widow. "I am an interested party."
+
+"Suppose we search together. You can tell me where your husband kept
+his private papers."
+
+"Certainly. He kept them in his desk. I locked it as soon as he died;
+but here is the key. If there is a will, it is probably there."
+
+"Very probably. We shall soon ascertain, then."
+
+Squire Tisdale took the key, and Mrs. Preston led the way to her late
+husband's desk. A momentary fear seized her.
+
+"What if there was an earlier will, or two copies of the last?" she
+thought. "I ought to have made sure by looking over the other papers."
+
+But it was too late now. Besides, it seemed very improbable that there
+should be another will. Had there been an earlier one, it would,
+doubtless, have been destroyed on the drafting of the one she had
+found. She reassured herself, therefore, and awaited with tranquillity
+the result of the search.
+
+The search was careful and thorough. Mrs. Preston desired that it
+should be so. Knowing the wrong she had done to Andy and his mother,
+as well as the town, she was unnecessarily anxious to appear perfectly
+fair, and assured Squire Tisdale that, had there been a will, its
+provisions should have been carried out to the letter.
+
+"There is no will here," said the squire, after a careful search.
+
+"I did not expect you would find one," said the widow; "but it was
+necessary to make sure."
+
+"Is there any other place where your husband kept papers?"
+
+"We will look in the drawers and trunks," said Mrs. Preston; "but I
+don't think any will be found."
+
+None was found.
+
+"Can I do anything more for you, Mrs. Preston?" asked the squire.
+
+"I should like your advice, Squire Tisdale. I am not used to business,
+and I would like the aid of your experience."
+
+"Willingly," said the squire, who felt flattered.
+
+"As my husband left no will, I suppose the estate goes to my son and
+myself?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"How ought I to proceed?"
+
+"You should apply for letters of administration, which will enable you
+to settle up the property."
+
+"Will you help me to take the necessary steps?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"I should like to settle the estate as rapidly as possible, as I
+intend to remove to Boston."
+
+"Indeed? We shall be sorry to lose you. Can you not content yourself
+here?"
+
+"Everything will remind me of my poor husband," said Mrs. Preston,
+with another application of the handkerchief to her still tearless
+eyes.
+
+Squire Tisdale was impressed with the idea that she had more feeling
+than he had thought.
+
+"I didn't think of that," he said, sympathetically. "No doubt you are
+right."
+
+Mrs. Preston lost no time in applying for letters of administration.
+
+"As soon as I get them," she said to herself, "I will lose no time in
+ejecting that Irishwoman from the house my husband bought for her.
+I'll make her pay rent, too, for the time she has been in it."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+MRS. PRESTON'S REVENGE
+
+
+Andy Burke was passing the house of Mrs. Preston, within a month after
+Colonel Preston's death, when Godfrey, who had not gone back to
+boarding school, showed himself at the front door.
+
+"Come here!" said Godfrey, in an imperious tone.
+
+Andy turned his head, and paused.
+
+"Who are you talking to?" he asked.
+
+"To you, to be sure."
+
+"What's wanted?"
+
+"My mother wants to see you."
+
+"All right; I'll come in."
+
+"You can go around to the back door," said Godfrey, who seemed to find
+pleasure in making himself disagreeable.
+
+"I know I can, but I don't mean to," said Andy, walking up to the
+front entrance, where Godfrey was standing.
+
+"The back door is good enough for you," said the other, offensively.
+
+"I shouldn't mind going to it if you hadn't asked me," said Andy.
+"Just move away, will you?"
+
+Godfrey did not stir.
+
+"Very well," said Andy, turning; "tell your mother you would not let
+me in."
+
+"Come in, if you want to," said Godfrey, at length, moving aside.
+
+"I don't care much about it. I only came to oblige your mother."
+
+"Maybe you won't like what she has to say," said Godfrey, with a
+disagreeable smile.
+
+"I'll soon know," said Andy.
+
+He entered the house, and Godfrey called upstairs: "Mother, the Burke
+boy is here."
+
+"I'll be down directly," was the answer. "He can sit down."
+
+Andy sat down on a chair in the hall, not receiving an invitation to
+enter the sitting-room, and waited for Mrs. Preston to appear. He
+wondered a little what she wanted with him, but thought it likely that
+she had some errand or service in which she wished to employ him. He
+did not know the extent of her dislike for him and his mother.
+
+After a while Mrs. Preston came downstairs. She was dressed in black,
+but showed no other mark of sorrow for the loss of her husband.
+Indeed, she was looking in better health than usual.
+
+"You can come into the sitting-room," she said, coldly.
+
+Andy followed her, and so did Godfrey, who felt a malicious pleasure
+in hearing what he knew beforehand his mother intended to say.
+
+"I believe your name is Andrew?" she commenced.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"Your mother occupies a house belonging to my late husband."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," answered Andy, who now began to guess at the object of
+the interview.
+
+"I find, by examining my husband's papers, that she has paid no rent
+for the last six months."
+
+"That's true," said Andy. "She offered to pay it, but Colonel Preston
+told her he didn't want no rent from her. He said she could have it
+for nothing."
+
+"That's a likely story," said Godfrey, with a sneer.
+
+"It's a true story," said Andy, in a firm voice, steadily eying his
+young antagonist.
+
+"This may be true, or it may not be true," said Mrs. Preston, coldly.
+"If true, I suppose my husband gave your mother a paper of some kind,
+agreeing to let her have the house rent-free."
+
+"She hasn't got any paper," said Andy.
+
+"I thought not," said Godfrey, sneering. "You forgot to write her
+one."
+
+"Be quiet, Godfrey," said his mother. "I prefer to manage this matter
+myself. Then, your mother has no paper to show in proof of what you
+assert?"
+
+"No, ma'am. The colonel didn't think it was necessary. He just told my
+mother, when she first came with the rent, that she needn't trouble
+herself to come again on that errand. He said that she had nursed him
+when he was sick with the smallpox, and he'd never forget it, and that
+he'd bought the house expressly for her."
+
+"I am aware that your mother nursed my husband in his sickness," said
+Mrs. Preston, coldly. "I also know that my husband paid her very
+handsomely for her services."
+
+"That's true, ma'am," said Andy. "He was a fine, generous man, the
+colonel was, and I'll always say it."
+
+"There really seems no reason why, in addition to this compensation,
+your mother should receive a present of her rent. How much rent did
+she pay before my husband bought the house?"
+
+"Fifteen dollars a quarter."
+
+"Then she has not paid rent for six months. I find she owes my
+husband's estate thirty dollars."
+
+"Colonel Preston told her she wasn't to pay it."
+
+"How do I know that?"
+
+"My mother says it, and she wouldn't tell a lie," said Andy,
+indignantly.
+
+"I have nothing to say as to that," said Mrs. Preston. "I am now
+managing the estate, and the question rests with me. I decide that
+your mother has been sufficiently paid for her services, and I shall
+claim rent for the last six months."
+
+Andy was silent for a moment. Then he spoke:
+
+"It may be so, Mrs. Preston. I'll speak to the doctor, and I'll do as
+he says."
+
+"I don't know what the doctor has to do with the matter," said Mrs.
+Preston, haughtily.
+
+"He wants to get an excuse for not paying," said Godfrey, with a
+sneer.
+
+"Mind your business," said Andy, excusably provoked.
+
+"Do you hear that, mother?" said Godfrey. "Are you going to let that
+beggar insult me before your very face?"
+
+"You have spoken very improperly to my son," said Mrs. Preston.
+
+"He spoke very improperly to me at first," said Andy, sturdily.
+
+"You do not appear to understand the respect due to me," said Mrs.
+Preston, with emphasis.
+
+"If I've treated you disrespectfully, I'm sorry," said Andy; "but
+Godfrey mustn't insult me, and call me names."
+
+"We have had enough of this," said Mrs. Preston. "I have only to
+repeat that your mother is indebted to me for six months' rent--thirty
+dollars--which I desire she will pay as soon as possible. One thing
+more: I must request her to find another home, as I have other plans
+for the house she occupies."
+
+"You're not goin' to turn her out of her house, sure?" said Andy, in
+some dismay.
+
+"It is not her house," said Mrs. Preston; though it occurred to her
+that it might have been, if she had not suppressed the will. But, of
+course, Andy knew nothing of this, nor did he suspect anything, since
+neither he nor his mother had the faintest idea of being remembered in
+Colonel Preston's will, kind though he had been to them both in his
+life.
+
+"I know it isn't," said Andy; "but she's got used to it. I don't know
+any other place we can get."
+
+"That is your lookout," said Mrs. Preston. "I have no doubt you can
+get in somewhere. As I said, the house is mine, and I have other views
+for it."
+
+"Can't we stay till the end of the quarter, ma'am?"
+
+"No; I wish to finish my business here as soon as possible, and then
+shall go to Boston."
+
+"How long can we stay, then?"
+
+"Till the first of the month."
+
+"That's only three days."
+
+"It is long enough to find another place. That is all I have to say,"
+and Mrs. Preston turned to go.
+
+Andy rose, and followed her, without a word. He saw that it would be
+of no use to appeal for more time. Her tone was so firm and determined
+that there evidently was no moving her.
+
+"What will we do?" thought Andy, as he walked slowly and silently
+along the road.
+
+He felt the need of consulting somebody older and more experienced
+than himself. Just in the nick of time he met Dr. Townley, in whose
+friendship he felt confidence.
+
+"Can you stop a minute, Dr. Townley?" he said. "I want to speak to you
+about something."
+
+"I can spare two minutes, if you like, Andy," said the doctor,
+smiling.
+
+Andy explained the case.
+
+"It is quite true," said the doctor. "Colonel Preston intended your
+mother to pay no rent--he told me so himself; but, as your mother has
+no written proof, I suppose you will have to pay it. Shall I lend you
+the money?"
+
+"No need, doctor. We've got money enough for that. But we must move
+out in three days. Where shall we go?"
+
+"I'll tell you. I own the small house occupied by Grant Melton. He
+sets out for the West to-morrow, with his family. I'll let it to your
+mother for the same rent she's been paying."
+
+"Thank you," said Andy, gratefully. "It's better than the house we've
+been living in. It's a good change."
+
+"Perhaps you won't like me for a landlord so well as Mrs. Preston,"
+said the doctor, smiling.
+
+"I'll risk it," said Andy.
+
+Two days afterward the transfer was made. Mrs. Preston was
+disappointed, and Godfrey still more so, to find their malice had done
+the widow Burke no harm.
+
+By advice of the doctor, Andy deferred paying the thirty dollars
+claimed as rent, availing himself of the twelve months allowed for the
+payment of debts due the estate of one deceased.
+
+"If it was anybody else, I'd pay at once," said Andy; "but Mrs.
+Preston has treated us so meanly that I don't mean to hurry."
+
+The delay made Mrs. Preston angry, but she was advised that it was
+quite legal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+ANDY LOSES HIS PLACE
+
+
+Andy and his mother moved into Dr. Townley's cottage. It was rather an
+improvement upon the house in which they had lived hitherto, but,
+then, there was this great difference: For the one they had no rent to
+pay, but for the other they paid fifty dollars rent. Dr. Townley would
+gladly have charged nothing, but he was a comparatively poor man, and
+could not afford to be as generous as his heart would have dictated.
+He had a fair income, being skillful and in good practice, but he had
+a son in college, and his expenses were a considerable drain upon his
+father's purse. Still, with the money saved, and Andy's weekly
+earnings, the Burkes were able to live very comfortably and still pay
+the rent. But a real misfortune was in store for Andy.
+
+Miss Sophia Grant was taken sick with lung fever. The sickness lasted
+for some weeks, and left her considerably debilitated.
+
+"What do you think of Sophia, Dr. Townley?" asked Priscilla,
+anxiously. "She remains weak, and she has a bad cough. I am feeling
+alarmed about her."
+
+"I'll tell you what I think, Miss Priscilla," said the doctor, "though
+I am sorry to do it. The fact is, the air here is altogether too
+bracing for your sister. She will have to go to some inland town,
+where the east winds are not felt."
+
+"Then I must go, too," said Miss Priscilla. "We have lived together
+from girlhood, and we cannot be separated."
+
+"I supposed you would be unwilling to leave her, so I am afraid we
+must make up our minds to lose you both."
+
+"Do you think, doctor, that Sophia will, by and by, be strong enough
+to return here?"
+
+"I am afraid not. The effects of lung fever are always felt for a long
+time. She will improve, no doubt, but a return to this harsh air
+would, I fear, bring back her old trouble."
+
+"I asked because I wanted to know whether it would be best to keep
+this place. After what you have told me, I shall try to sell it."
+
+"I am truly sorry, Miss Priscilla."
+
+"So am I, Dr. Townley. I don't expect any place will seem so much like
+home as this."
+
+"Have you any particular place that you think of going to?"
+
+"Yes; I have a niece married in a small town near Syracuse, New York
+State. They don't have east winds there. I'll get Priscilla (she's
+named after me) to hunt up a cottage that we can live in, and move
+right out there. I suppose we'd better go soon?"
+
+"Better go at once. Weak lungs must be humored."
+
+"Then I'll write to Priscilla to get me a boarding house, and we'll
+start next week."
+
+There was one person whom this removal was likely to affect seriously,
+and this was our young hero.
+
+"I hope Andy'll be able to get a place," said Priscilla, after she had
+communicated the doctor's orders to her sister.
+
+"Just so, Priscilla. He's a good boy."
+
+"I will give him a good recommendation."
+
+"Just so. Does he know it?"
+
+"No. I will call him in and tell him, so that he can be looking out
+for another position."
+
+"Just so."
+
+Andy answered the call of Miss Priscilla. He had been sawing wood, and
+there was sawdust in his sleeves.
+
+"How long have you been with us, Andy?" asked his mistress.
+
+"Over a year, ma'am."
+
+"I wish I could keep you for a year to come."
+
+"Can't you?" asked Andy, startled.
+
+"No, Andy."
+
+"What's the matter, Miss Priscilla? Have I done anything wrong?"
+
+"No, Andy. We are both of us quite satisfied with you."
+
+"You haven't lost any money, ma'am, have you? I'll work for less, if
+you can't afford to pay as much as you've been paying."
+
+"Thank you, Andy, but it isn't that. My sister's lungs are weak, and
+Dr. Townley has ordered her to move to a less exposed place. We are
+going to move away from the town."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Andy, and he was, for other reasons than because he
+was about to lose a good place.
+
+"We shall miss you, Andy."
+
+"Just so," chimed in Miss Sophia, with a cough.
+
+"You see how weak my sister's lungs are. It's on her account we are
+going."
+
+"Shan't you come back again, ma'am?"
+
+"No, Andy. The doctor says it will never be safe for us to do so. I
+hope you will get a good place."
+
+"I hope so, ma'am; but you needn't think of that."
+
+"We are prepared to give you a good recommendation. We feel perfectly
+satisfied with you in every way."
+
+"Just so," said Sophia.
+
+"Thank you, ma'am, and you, too, Miss Sophia. I've tried to do my duty
+faithfully by you."
+
+"And you have, Andy."
+
+"How soon do you go, ma'am?"
+
+"Next week, if we can get away. The doctor says we can't get away too
+soon. So you had better be looking around, to see if you can get a
+place somewhere."
+
+"I will, ma'am; but I'll stay with you till the last day. You'll need
+me to pack up for you."
+
+"Yes, we shall. To-morrow I'll write you the recommendation."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am."
+
+Andy did not sleep as much as usual that night. His wages were the
+main support of his mother and sister, and he could think of no other
+place in the village where he was likely to be employed. He had a
+little money saved up, but he didn't like the idea of spending it.
+Besides, it would not last long.
+
+"I wish Dr. Townley wanted a boy," thought Andy. "I'd rather work for
+the doctor than for anybody else in the village. He's a nice man, and
+he cares just as much for poor folks as he does for rich folks. I am
+sure he likes me better than he does Godfrey Preston."
+
+But Dr. Townley already had a boy, whom he did not like to turn off.
+Nor could he have afforded to pay Andy as high wages as he had
+received from the Misses Grant. There really seemed to be no vacant
+place in the village for our young hero to fill, and, of course, this
+troubled him.
+
+Next week the Misses Grant got away from the village. They gave Andy
+as a present an old-fashioned silver watch, about the size and shape
+of a turnip. Andy was glad to get it, old-fashioned as it was, and he
+thanked them warmly.
+
+The day afterward he was walking slowly along the village street, when
+he came upon Godfrey Preston strutting along, with an air of
+importance. He and his mother had removed to Boston, but they were
+visiting the town on a little business.
+
+"Hello, there!" said Godfrey, halting.
+
+"Hello!" said Andy.
+
+"You've lost your place, haven't you?" asked Godfrey, with a sneer.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How are you going to live?"
+
+"By eating, I expect," answered Andy, shortly.
+
+"If you can get anything to eat, you mean?"
+
+"We got enough so far."
+
+"Perhaps you won't have, long. You may have to go to the poorhouse."
+
+"When I do, I shall find you there."
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Godfrey, angrily.
+
+"I mean I shan't go there till you do."
+
+"You're proud for a beggar."
+
+"I'm more of a gentleman than you are."
+
+"I'd thrash you, only I won't demean myself by doing it."
+
+"That's lucky, or you might get thrashed yourself."
+
+"You're only an Irish boy."
+
+"I'm proud of that same. You won't find me go back on my country."
+
+Godfrey walked away. Somehow, he could never get the better of Andy.
+
+"I hope I'll see you begging in rags, some day," he thought to
+himself.
+
+But boys like Andy are not often reduced to such a point.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+THE WILL AT LAST
+
+
+The next three months passed very unsatisfactorily for Andy. In a
+small country town like that in which he lived there was little
+opportunity for a boy, however industrious, to earn money. The farmers
+generally had sons of their own, or were already provided with
+assistants, and there was no manufacturing establishment in the
+village to furnish employment to those who didn't like agriculture.
+Andy had some idea of learning the carpenter trade, there being a
+carpenter who was willing to take an apprentice, but, unfortunately,
+he was unwilling to pay any wages for the first year--only boarding
+the apprentice--and our hero felt, for his mother's sake, that it
+would not do to make such an engagement.
+
+When the three months were over, the stock of money which Andy and his
+mother had saved up was almost gone. In fact, he had not enough left
+to pay the next quarter's rent to Dr. Townley.
+
+Things were in this unsatisfactory state, when something happened that
+had a material effect upon Andy's fortunes, and, as my readers will be
+glad to know, for their improvement.
+
+To explain what it was, I must go back to a period shortly before
+Colonel's Preston's death. One day he met the doctor in the street,
+and stopped to speak to him.
+
+"Dr. Townley," he said, "I have a favor to ask of you."
+
+"I shall be very glad to serve you, Colonel Preston," said the doctor.
+
+Thereupon Colonel Preston drew from his inside pocket a sealed
+envelope of large size.
+
+"I want you to take charge of this for me," he said.
+
+"Certainly," said the doctor, in some surprise.
+
+"Please read what I have written upon the envelope."
+
+The doctor, his attention called to the envelope, read, inscribed in
+large, distinct characters:
+
+"Not to be opened till six months after my death."
+
+"I see you want an explanation," said the colonel. "Here it is--the
+paper contained in this envelope is an important one. I won't tell you
+what it is. When you come to open it, it will explain itself."
+
+"But, colonel, you are likely to live as long as I. In that case, I
+can't follow your directions."
+
+"Of course, we can't tell the duration of our lives. Still, I think
+you will outlive me. If not, I shall reclaim the paper. Meanwhile, I
+shall be glad to have you take charge of it for me."
+
+"Of course I will. It is a slight favor to ask."
+
+"It may prove important. By the way, there is no need of telling
+anyone, unless, perchance, your wife. I don't want to force you to
+keep anything secret from her. Mrs. Townley, I know, may be depended
+upon."
+
+"I think she may. Well, Colonel Preston, set your mind at rest. I will
+take care of the paper."
+
+When Colonel Preston died, not long afterward, the doctor naturally
+thought of the paper, and, as no will was left, it occurred to him
+that this might be a will; but, in that case, he couldn't understand
+why he should have been enjoined to keep it six months before opening
+it. On the whole, he concluded that it was not a will.
+
+Seated at the supper table, about this time, Mrs. Townley said,
+suddenly:
+
+"Henry, how long is it since Colonel Preston died?"
+
+"Let me see," said the doctor, thoughtfully. "It is--yes, it is six
+months to-morrow."
+
+"Then it is time for you to open that envelope he gave into your
+charge."
+
+"So it is. My dear, your feminine curiosity inspired that thought,"
+said the doctor, smiling.
+
+"Perhaps you are right. I own I am a little inquisitive in the
+matter."
+
+"I am glad you mentioned it. I have so much on my mind that I should
+have let the day pass, and I should be sorry not to fulfill to the
+letter the promise I made to my friend."
+
+"Have you any suspicion as to the nature of the document?"
+
+"I thought it might be a will; but, if so, I can't understand why a
+delay of six months should have been interposed."
+
+"Colonel Preston may have had his reasons. Possibly he did not fully
+trust his wife's attention to his requests."
+
+"It may be so. I am afraid his married life was not altogether
+harmonious. Mrs. Preston always struck me as a very selfish woman."
+
+"No doubt of that."
+
+"She evidently regarded herself as superior to the rest of us."
+
+"In that respect Godfrey is like her. He is a self-conceited,
+disagreeable young jackanapes. I wouldn't give much for his chances of
+honorable distinction in life. I'll tell you of a boy who will, in my
+opinion, beat him in the race of life."
+
+"Who is that?"
+
+"Andy Burke."
+
+"Andy is a good boy, but I am afraid the family is doing poorly now."
+
+"So I fear. The, fact is, there doesn't appear to be much opening for
+a lad like Andy in this village."
+
+"I hear that Mr. Graves, the storekeeper, who is getting old, wants to
+get a boy, or young man, with a small capital to take an interest in
+his business, and, eventually, succeed him."
+
+"That would be a good chance for Andy, if he had the small capital;
+but he probably hasn't ten dollars in the world."
+
+"That's a pity."
+
+"If I were a capitalist, I wouldn't mind starting him myself; but as
+you, my dear, are my most precious property, and are not readily
+convertible into cash, I don't quite see my way to do anything to
+assist him."
+
+"I didn't think of you, Henry. Country doctors are not likely to get
+rich. But I thought Colonel Preston, who seemed to take an interest in
+the boy, might do something for him."
+
+"If he had lived, he might have done so--probably he would. But Mrs.
+Preston and Godfrey hate the Burkes like poison, for no good reason
+that I know of, and there is no chance of help from that quarter."
+
+"I should think not."
+
+The next day, Dr. Townley, immediately after breakfast, drew the
+envelope already referred to from among his private papers, and,
+breaking the seal, opened it.
+
+To his surprise and excitement, he discovered that the inclosure was
+the last will and testament of his deceased friend. Accompanying it
+was the following note:
+
+
+    "MY DEAR FRIEND, DR. TOWNLEY: This is the duplicate of a will
+    executed recently, and expresses my well-considered wishes as
+    to the disposition of my property. The original will may have
+    been found and executed before you open this envelope. In
+    that case, of course, this will be of no value, and you can
+    destroy it. But I am aware that valuable papers are liable to
+    loss or injury, and, therefore, I deem it prudent to place
+    this duplicate in your possession, that, if the other be
+    lost, you may see it carried into execution. I have named you
+    my executor, and am sure, out of regard to me, you will
+    accept the trust, and fulfill it to the best of your ability.
+    I have always felt the utmost confidence in your friendship,
+    and this will account for my troubling you on the present
+    occasion.
+                                  "Your friend,
+                                       "Anthony Preston."
+
+
+From this letter Dr. Townley turned to the perusal of the will. The
+contents filled him with equal surprise and pleasure.
+
+"Five thousand dollars to Andy Burke!" he repeated. "That is capital!
+It will start the boy in life, and with his good habits it will make
+him sure of a competence by and by. With half of it he can buy an
+interest in Graves' store, and the balance will, if well invested,
+give him a handsome addition to his income. Then there's the bequest
+for the town library--a capital idea, that! It will do a great deal to
+make the town attractive, and be a powerful agency for refining and
+educating the people."
+
+Just then Mrs. Townley, who knew what her husband was about, came into
+the room.
+
+"Well, Henry," she said, "is the paper important?"
+
+"I should say it was. It is Colonel Preston's last will and
+testatment."
+
+"Is it possible? How does he leave his property?"
+
+"He leaves five thousand dollars for a town library."
+
+"Does he remember Andy Burke?"
+
+"He leaves him five thousand dollars, and gives his mother the house
+they used to live in."
+
+"That's splendid! But what will Mrs. Preston say?"
+
+"Well, that remains to be seen," said the doctor, laughing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+MRS. PRESTON IS UNPLEASANTLY SURPRISED
+
+
+Dr. Townley thought it best to consult with the town authorities as to
+the course to be pursued, since, as it appeared, the town was
+interested in the will. It was decided that the doctor and Mr. Graves,
+who was the Chairman of the Selectmen, should go to Boston the next
+day and inform Mrs. Preston of the discovery of the will. Until after
+this interview it was deemed best not to mention the matter to Andy or
+his mother.
+
+Mrs. Preston was established in a showy house at the South End. At
+last she was living as she desired to do. She went to the theater and
+the opera, and was thinking whether she could afford to set up a
+carriage. Godfrey she had placed at a private school, and was anxious
+to have him prepare for admission to Harvard College, but in this hope
+she seemed destined to be disappointed. Godfrey wanted to see life and
+enjoy himself, and had no intention of submitting to the drudgery of
+hard study.
+
+"Godfrey," said his mother one morning, "I have received a letter from
+your teacher, complaining that you don't work."
+
+"I'm not going to work myself to death," answered Godfrey.
+
+"I don't expect you to hurt yourself with work, but I want you to go
+to college."
+
+"Oh, well, I'll get in somehow."
+
+"Don't you want to stand well as a scholar?" she asked.
+
+"I leave that to the poor fellows that have got to work for a living.
+I am rich."
+
+"You may lose your money."
+
+"I don't mean to."
+
+"Suppose you do?"
+
+"Then I will go to work."
+
+"I should like to have you graduate well at college and then study
+law. You might get into Congress," said his mother.
+
+"I guess I'll know enough for that," said Godfrey, carelessly. "I want
+to have a good time."
+
+That was not the worst of it, however. He extorted from his mother a
+large allowance, which he spent at bars and billiard saloons, and one
+day was brought home drunk by a schoolfellow.
+
+"Oh, Godfrey, how can you do so?" exclaimed the selfish woman, for
+once fairly alarmed on another's account.
+
+"Hush up, old woman!" hiccoughed Godfrey.
+
+Mrs. Preston was mortified to think this should be said to her before
+Godfrey's schoolmate.
+
+"He does not know what he is saying," she said, apologetically.
+
+"Yes, I do," persisted Godfrey. "I'm a--a gen'leman's son. I don't
+want you to interfere with gen'leman's son."
+
+He was put to bed, and awoke the next morning with a splitting
+headache. It was the morning of the day which the doctor and Mr.
+Graves had chosen to call on Mrs. Preston. She was preparing to go
+out, when a servant came upstairs to announce that two gentlemen were
+in the parlor, and wanted to see her.
+
+"Two gentlemen! What do they look like, Nancy?"
+
+"One of 'em looks like he was from the country, mum."
+
+This referred to Mr. Graves, who did have a rustic look. The doctor
+would readily have passed for a Bostonian.
+
+"Did they give their names?"
+
+"No, mum."
+
+"I will go down directly. I suppose they won't stay long."
+
+Mrs. Preston sailed into the parlor with the air of a city lady, as
+she proudly imagined, but stopped short in some surprise when she
+recognized her visitors. Of course, she did not suspect the nature of
+their business.
+
+Dr. Townley arose as she entered.
+
+"Good-morning, Mrs. Preston," he said. "I hope I find you well?"
+
+"I am quite well," said Mrs. Preston, coldly, for she had never liked
+the doctor. She had an unpleasant feeling that he understood her, and
+was not among her admirers. "Good-morning, Mr. Graves. You come to the
+city occasionally?"
+
+"I don't often get time to come up, but the doctor thought I ought to
+come."
+
+"Indeed! I am sorry to say that I am just going out."
+
+"I must ask you to defer going till we have communicated our
+business," said the doctor.
+
+"Business?" repeated Mrs. Preston, seating herself in some surprise.
+
+"Yes--business of importance. In short, your husband's will has come
+to light."
+
+"My husband's will!" exclaimed Mrs. Preston. "I thought----"
+
+She checked herself suddenly. She was about to say, "I thought I had
+destroyed it," and that would have let the cat out of the bag with a
+vengeance.
+
+"You thought that he left no will," said the doctor, finishing the
+sentence for her. "He really left two----"
+
+"Two!"
+
+"That's it--he executed two--exactly alike. One he left in my hands."
+
+"That is a likely story!" said Mrs. Preston, excitedly. "If that is
+the case, why, I ask, have we heard nothing of this before?"
+
+"Because it was contained in an envelope, which I was requested not to
+open for six months after his decease. The time having expired----"
+
+"May I ask what are the provisions of this pretended will?" demanded
+Mrs. Preston, in visible excitement.
+
+"Mrs. Preston," said the doctor, with dignity, "you appear to forget
+that you are addressing a gentleman. I am above fabricating a will, as
+you seem to insinuate. As to the provisions, it leaves five thousand
+dollars to the town for the establishment of a public library, and
+five thousand dollars to Andy Burke, besides the small house in which
+she used to live to the widow Burke."
+
+The worst had come. In spite of her criminal act, she must lose the
+ten thousand dollars; and, worst of all, those whom she hated and
+despised were to profit by her loss.
+
+"This is simply outrageous, Dr. Townley," she said.
+
+"You are speaking of your husband's will, Mrs. Preston."
+
+"I don't believe he made it."
+
+"There can be no doubt of it. Mr. Graves has examined it, and he and
+myself are so familiar with the handwriting of your husband that we
+have no hesitation in pronouncing the will genuine."
+
+"Colonel Preston must have been insane if he really made such a will."
+
+"I was his medical adviser," said Dr. Townley, quietly, "and I never
+detected the least sign of an unsound mind."
+
+"The fact of robbing his wife and child to enrich an Irishwoman and
+her son is proof enough of his insanity."
+
+"Pardon me, madam, but such bequests are made every day. Outside of
+their legacies your husband left ample fortune, and there is no danger
+of your being impoverished."
+
+"Did you bring the will with you?"
+
+"No. I did not feel like incurring the risk."
+
+"I shall contest the will," said Mrs. Preston, passionately.
+
+"I would not advise you to. The proof of its genuineness is
+overwhelming. I suppose you never saw the other will?"
+
+Mrs. Preston, at this unexpected question, in spite of her strong
+nerves, turned pale, and faltered:
+
+"Of course not," she said, after a slight pause.
+
+"Your husband asserts positively in a note to me that he made one,"
+said the doctor, bending his eyes searchingly upon her, for he
+suspected the truth, and that it was distrust of his wife that led
+Colonel Preston to take the precaution he had done. "Its disappearance
+is mysterious."
+
+"What do you mean?" cried Mrs. Preston, sharply, and not altogether
+without alarm.
+
+"I meant only to express my surprise."
+
+"If your business is over, I will go out."
+
+"I have only this to say, that, being named in the will as executor, I
+shall take immediate measures to have the will admitted to probate.
+Should you make up your mind to contest it, you can give me due notice
+through your legal adviser. In that case," he added, significantly,
+"the question of the disappearance of the other will will come up."
+
+"I will consult my lawyer," said Mrs. Preston.
+
+Though she said this, her determination was already made. "Conscience
+makes cowards of us all," and the doctor's last hint alarmed her so
+much that she decided to make no opposition to the setting up of the
+will. But it was a bitter pill to swallow.
+
+"Graves," said Dr. Townley, as he left the house, "that woman
+destroyed the other will."
+
+"Do you think so?" asked Mr. Graves, startled.
+
+"I feel sure of it. Let me predict also that she will not contest this
+will. She is afraid to."
+
+And the doctor was right.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+Andy was quite unconscious of the good fortune which had come to him.
+Though a manly and stout-hearted boy, he was, in fact, getting
+discouraged. He was willing and anxious to work, but there seemed to
+be no work for him to do. He would have left home some time since to
+try his fortune elsewhere, but for the entreaties of his mother, who
+didn't like to lose him.
+
+In the morning after Dr. Townley's visit to Boston, our hero knocked
+at the doctor's front door.
+
+"Is Dr. Townley at home?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, Andy," said the doctor, who overheard the inquiry. "Come right
+in. You're just the boy I want to see."
+
+Andy entered, twirling his hat awkwardly in his hand.
+
+"Good-morning, Andy," said the doctor, cordially. "Take a seat."
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Andy, but did not sit down.
+
+"What is the matter? You are looking rather blue this morning."
+
+"Faith, doctor, and that's the way I feel entirely."
+
+"You're not sick, are you? Let me feel your pulse."
+
+"No, I'm not sick, but it's discouraged I am."
+
+"Why should a stout boy in good health be discouraged?"
+
+"I can't get any work to do, and I'm afraid we'll all starve."
+
+"It strikes me," said the doctor, fixing his eyes on Andy, enjoying
+the effect of his intended announcement, "that I wouldn't talk of
+starving, if I were as rich as you are, Andy."
+
+"As rich as me?" echoed Andy. "Shure, doctor, you're jokin'."
+
+"Not at all."
+
+"Why, I haven't got but seventy-five cents in the world."
+
+"Now it's you that are joking, Andy."
+
+"I wish I was," sighed Andy.
+
+"Why, I had it on good authority that you were worth five thousand
+dollars."
+
+Andy stared in earnest.
+
+"I see you're laughin' at me, doctor," he said, suspecting that Dr.
+Townley was making game of him.
+
+"No, I am not. I am in earnest."
+
+"Who told you such a big falsehood as that, now?" asked our hero,
+bewildered.
+
+"Perhaps I dreamed that somebody told me Colonel Preston had left you
+five thousand dollars in his will."
+
+"Are you jokin'? Is it true?" asked Andy, eagerly, something in the
+doctor's face telling him that he really meant what he said.
+
+"Maybe I dreamed, too, that the colonel left your mother the house she
+used to live in."
+
+"Is it true, doctor? Tell me, quick!" said Andy, trembling with
+excitement.
+
+"Yes, my boy, it's all true, and I'm glad to be the first to
+congratulate you on your good fortune."
+
+He held out his hand, which our hero seized, and then, unable to
+repress his exultation, threw up his cap to the ceiling and indulged
+in an extempore dance, the doctor meanwhile looking on with benevolent
+gratification.
+
+"Excuse me, doctor; I couldn't help it," he panted.
+
+"It's all right, Andy. Are you discouraged now?"
+
+"Divil a bit, doctor. It's wild I am with joy."
+
+"And you don't think of starving yet, eh, Andy?"
+
+"I'll wait a bit. But why didn't I know before?"
+
+"Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."
+
+So Andy heard the account, which need not be repeated.
+
+"Now," continued the doctor, "I'll tell you what plan I have for you.
+Mr. Graves wants to take a boy into his store who will buy an interest
+in the business and become his partner. He thinks well of you, and is
+willing to take you. What do you say?"
+
+"I'll do whatever you think best, doctor."
+
+"Then I think this is a good opening for you. Mr. Graves wants to
+retire from business before long. Probably by the time you are
+twenty-one he will leave everything in your hands. You will be paid
+weekly wages and perhaps be entitled to a portion of the profits--more
+than enough to support you all comfortably. What do you say? Shall we
+have a new firm in the village?
+
+
+                       "GRAVES & BURKE."
+
+
+Andy's eyes sparkled with proud anticipation. It was so far above any
+dream he had ever formed.
+
+"It's what I'd like above all things," he said. "Oh, what will mother
+say? I must go and tell her."
+
+"Go, by all means, Andy, and when you have told her, come back, and
+I'll go over with you to Mr. Graves' store, and we'll talk over the
+arrangements with him."
+
+Mrs. Burke's delight at her own success and that of Andy may be
+imagined. She, too, had been getting despondent, and it seemed almost
+like a fairy tale to find herself the owner of a house, and her boy
+likely to be taken into partnership with the principal trader in the
+village. She invoked blessings on the memory of Colonel Preston,
+through whose large-hearted generosity this had come to pass, but
+could not help speculating on what Mrs. Preston would say. She
+understood very well that she would be very angry.
+
+Mrs. Preston did not dispute the will. She might have done so, but for
+her fear that her own criminal act would be brought to light. Godfrey,
+who was even more disturbed than she was at the success of "that low
+Irish boy," begged her to do it, but in this case she did not yield to
+his entreaties. She had never dared to take him into confidence
+respecting her destruction of the other will.
+
+While we are upon this subject, we may as well trace out the future
+career of Mrs. Preston. Some years later she was induced, by the
+expectation of aiding her social standing, to marry an adventurer who
+appeared to be doing a flourishing business as a State Street broker.
+By spurious representations, he managed to get hold of her property,
+and to be appointed Godfrey's guardian. The result may be foreseen. He
+managed to spend or waste the whole and when Godfrey was twenty-one,
+he and his mother were penniless. Andy, who was now sole
+representative of the firm of Graves & Burke, and in receipt of an
+excellent income, heard of the misfortunes of his old enemy, and out
+of regard to the memory of his old benefactor voluntarily offered Mrs.
+Preston an allowance of five hundred dollars. It cost her pride a
+great deal to accept this favor from the boy she had looked down upon
+as "only an Irish boy," but her necessity was greater than her pride,
+and she saw no other way of escaping the poorhouse. So she
+ungraciously accepted. But Andy did not care for thanks. He felt that
+he was doing his duty, and he asked no other reward than that
+consciousness. Mrs. Preston was allowed to make her home, rent free,
+in Mrs. Burke's old house, Andy having built a better and more
+commodious one, in which he had installed his mother as mistress. Mrs.
+Preston grew old fast, in appearance, and fretted without ceasing for
+the fortune and position which she had lost. Her husband left her, and
+has not since been heard of. As for Godfrey, Andy secured him a
+passage to California, where he led a disreputable life. There is a
+rumor that he was killed in a drunken brawl at Sacramento not long
+since, but I have not been able to learn whether this is true or not.
+His loss of fortune had something to do with his going to the bad, but
+I am afraid, with his character and tendencies, that neither in
+prosperity nor in adversity would he have built up a good character,
+or led an honorable career. His course had been, in all respects, far
+different from that of our hero, who, already prosperous, seems likely
+to go on adding to his wealth, and growing in the esteem of the best
+portion of the community. His success, aided, indeed, by good fortune,
+has served to demonstrate the favorable effects of honesty, industry,
+and good principles, upon individual success. He is not the first, nor
+will he be the last, to achieve prosperity and the respect of the
+community, though beginning life as "only an Irish boy."
+
+THE END
+
+
+Transcriber's comments:
+
+Spelling has been left as in the original book.  Specifically, the
+dialect and typographical errors have been left unchanged.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Only An Irish Boy, by Horatio Alger, Jr.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11111 ***