Making His Way Part 41

"I know what Mr. Sampson got--twelve hundred dollars a year; but Mr.

Fairfield lives at the rate of more than twice that sum, if I can judge from appearances."

"I suppose you would be contented with the salary which Mr. Sampson received?"

"Contented! I should feel like a rich man. It would not interfere with my carrying on my farm, and I should be able to make something from that. Why, it is as much as I received as a bookkeeper, and here the expenses of living are small, compared with what they were in Chicago. I could save money and educate my children, as I cannot do now. I have a boy who wants a cla.s.sical education, but of course there are no schools here which can afford it, and I am too poor to send him away from home.

I suppose I shall have to bring him up as a farmer, though it is a great pity, for he is not fitted for it."

Mr. Hamlin sighed, but Frank felt in unusually good spirits. He saw his way clear already, not only to recommend Mr. Fairfield's displacement, but to urge Mr. Hamlin's appointment in his stead; that is, if his favorable impressions were confirmed on further acquaintance.

"It seems to me," said the driver, changing the subject, "you might find something better to do than to peddle stationery."

"I don't mean to follow the business long," answered Frank.

"It can't pay much."

"I am not wholly dependent upon it," said our hero. "There is one advantage about it. It enables me to travel about and pay my expenses, and you know traveling is agreeable to a boy of my age."

"That is true. Well, your expenses won't amount to much while you are in Jackson. I shall only charge you just enough to cover expenses--say three dollars a week."

Frank was about to insist on paying a larger sum, but it occurred to him that he must keep up appearances, and he therefore only thanked his kind acquaintance.

By this time they had entered the village of Jackson.

"There's Mr. Fairfield now!" said Mr. Hamlin, suddenly, pointing with his whip to a rather tall, stout man, with a red nose and inflamed countenance, who was walking unsteadily along the sidewalk.

Frank carefully scrutinized the agent, and mentally decided that such a man was unfit for the responsible position he held.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

d.i.c.k HAMLIN

Mr. Hamlin stopped his horse a quarter of a mile from the village in front of a plain farmhouse.

An intelligent-looking boy, of perhaps fifteen, coa.r.s.ely but neatly dressed, approached and greeted his father, not without a glance of surprise and curiosity at Frank.

"You may unharness the horses, d.i.c.k," said Mr. Hamlin. "When you come back, I will introduce you to a boy friend who will stay with us a while."

d.i.c.k obeyed, and Frank followed his host into the house.

Here he was introduced to Mrs. Hamlin, a motherly-looking woman, and Annie and Grace, younger sisters of d.i.c.k.

"I am glad to see you," said Mrs. Hamlin, to our hero, after a brief explanation from her husband. "We will try to make you comfortable."

"Thank you!" said Frank. "I am sure I shall feel at home."

The house was better furnished than might have been antic.i.p.ated. When Mr. Hamlin left Chicago, he had some money saved up, and he furnished his house in a comfortable manner.

It was not, however, the furniture that attracted Frank's attention so much as the books, papers and pictures that gave the rooms a homelike appearance.

"I shall be much better off here than I would have been at the tavern,"

he thought. "This seems like home."

"I see," said Mr. Hamlin, "that you are surprised to see so many books and pictures. I admit that my house does not look like the house of a poor man, who has to struggle for the mere necessaries of life. But books and periodicals we have always cla.s.sed among the necessities, and I am sure we would all rather limit ourselves to dry bread for two out of the three meals than to give up this food for the mind."

"I think you are a very sensible man, Mr. Hamlin," said Frank. "I couldn't get along without something to read."

"Not in this out-of-the-way place, at any rate," said Mr. Hamlin.

"Nothing can be more dismal than the homes of some of my neighbors, who spend as much, or more, than I do every year. Yet, they consider me extravagant because I buy books and subscribe for periodicals."

By this time, d.i.c.k came in from the barn.

"d.i.c.k," said his father, "this is Frank Courtney, who comes from Chicago on a business errand. He is a traveling merchant--"

"In other words, a peddler," said Frank, with a smile, "ready to give the good people in Jackson a chance to buy stationery at reasonable prices."

"He will board with us while he is canva.s.sing the neighborhood, and I expect you and he will become great friends."

"I think we shall," said Frank.

d.i.c.k was a little shy, but a few minutes set him quite at ease with his new acquaintance.

After supper, Frank said:

"d.i.c.k, if you are at leisure, I wish you would take a walk about the village with me. I want to see how it looks."

"All right," said d.i.c.k.

When the two left the house, the country boy began to ask questions.

"How do you like your business?" he asked.

"Not very well," answered Frank. "I do not think I shall stay in it very long."

"Do you sell enough to make your expenses?" asked d.i.c.k.

"No; but I am not wholly dependent on my sales. I have a little income--a hundred dollars a year--paid me by my stepfather."

"I wish I had as much. It seems a good deal to me."

"It doesn't go very far. What are you intending to be, d.i.c.k?"

"I suppose I shall have to be a farmer, though I don't like it."

"What would you like to be?"