Chapter II: The Oyster-Saloon

"If any will not work, neither shall he eat."

IT was nearly two o'clock before Harrison went home. First he had to prepare the string-beans; then one of the boarders called him to do an errand, for which he paid him a dime, after which the cook gave him a number of chores to do; so that altogether he had made quite a profitable morning of it. Beside this, he had eaten a hearty dinner, as indeed he did almost every day, before he left the hotel, and, with the consent of the proprietor, carried home a basket of broken pieces for his mother.

Harrison was an obliging little fellow. Always civil in his conduct, prompt and faithful in whatever he was required to do, he had rendered himself a favorite with all. Much of this he owed to his mother, who was untiring in her instructions to her boy. She was very fond of giving Scripture authority for her advice, and of enforcing her commands by the word of God. In this way, though only a lad of ten years, Harrison was far better acquainted with the teachings of the Bible than many who were twice his age.

On the morning in question he was unusually happy: first, because he had two dimes to add to his secret fund for the new bonnet; and next, because he had enjoyed a pleasant talk with the little girl.

Mrs. Danforth was setting the table for dinner when he entered, and received him with a warm smile of welcome.

"See how much I have earned!" said the boy, giving her a hearty kiss, and then pouring into her open palm several small pieces of silver.

"You know, my dear," she replied, with a smile, "who it is that said, 'The hand of the diligent maketh rich;'" then taking his basket, she added, "but you have brought quite a feast. I hope you have not dined."

"Oh yes, I have! But I expect there are pretty nice things in there. I heard one of the cooks talking about it. A gentleman came in and ordered a dinner at one o'clock: pigeons, fricasseed chicken, and lots of other dishes. Waiter told the cook he just tasted them, and then sent them away. He had no appetite, he said. I told cook if he'd get up in the morning and work, as I did, he'd have appetite enough. She laughed and said, 'Well, they're paid for, and you may put them in your basket.'"

"I hope Mr. Clarkson knows how much she gives us," suggested the woman, stopping in her work of taking the rich food from the basket.

"I wouldn't take it without," replied the boy, drawing himself proudly up to his full height. Only last week he told her not to encourage the street beggars, but to give to those she knew were worthy, and who tried to help themselves. "Once in a while, too, he meets me with my basket, and he looks in and says, 'That's all right, boy.'"

Just at this moment the door opened, and Mr. Danforth entered. He was quite a gentlemanly-looking man, of about thirty-five years. A close observer might have noticed a shade of anxiety passing over the wife's countenance; but after a second glance she seemed happily disappointed, and her spirits rose accordingly.

"You are just in time," she said; "dinner is all ready."

"And I'm ready for it," was the hearty reply. "I've been walking all the morning, and I expect at last I've found just about the right thing for me to do. Ho! those birds look as if they would relish finely!"

Harrison then repeated the story of the dyspeptic gentleman, at which his father laughed and said, "It's an ill wind that blows no one good. Now I'm perfectly willing he should order dinners and pay for them; we'll find good appetites for them, wont we, Bub?"

"I suppose," remarked Mrs. Danforth, "that he is one of those who will not work, and therefore, though he has an abundance, cannot eat."

"Waiter said he looked awful sickly," added Harrison.

"I expect I've engaged myself in a first-rate situation," resumed Mr. Danforth, laying down the bones of a chicken he had been sucking.

"What is it?" eagerly inquired his wife.

"Why, it's a kind of an overseer-general in an oyster saloon."

"I had rather you would shovel coal," exclaimed Mrs. Danforth, in a tone of great disappointment.

"What in the name of nature can you have to say against an oyster-saloon? It would bring me into company and constant intercourse with some of the first gentlemen of the city."

"That is just what I feared. I am afraid of the temptation for you, my dear husband."

"What, after I've pledged myself to you to let alone all kinds of intoxicating drinks?" The man colored and looked somewhat annoyed; and his wife, noticing that Harrison was listening eagerly, added suddenly, "When you are rested, my dear, I wish you would carry home this vest to the tailor's and bring me some more work."

"I'm rested now, mother, so I'll be off;" and taking the bundle he ran down the stairs, whistling merrily at his favorite tune.

When he was gone Mrs. Danforth kindly remonstrated with her husband, urging the inexpediency of placing himself in the way of temptation, when work could surely be obtained elsewhere. He argued that here he could be treated as a gentleman, that he could have better wages, and altogether it was a fine opportunity. At any rate he had gone too far to recede.

His wife sighed heavily, but ceased to urge him further.

"The man was very much taken with my appearance," resumed Mr. Danforth, feeling that he had gained his point. "I'm to know whether he accepts my terms before night. So keep up good courage. I shall be able to support you like a lady yet—who knows?" and he turned to leave the house.

"I'm quite contented in the lot Providence has assigned me," remarked the woman, gazing into her husband's handsome but irresolute countenance. "Ah!" said she, when he had disappeared, "'beauty is vain.' I fear his good looks and his gentlemanly appearance will be the cause of his ruin."

At night Mr. Danforth came home in grand spirits, and announced that he had been engaged at a good salary, and was to commence his labors in the morning. His wife bravely repressed a sigh, tried to smile, and to feel hopeful. Presently Harrison came home in a pleasant state of excitement. He was just about to narrate his afternoon's success to his mother, when he noticed that his father was present, and, with a prudence which had been dearly bought by past experience, waited until he should find her alone.

"I think," remarked Mr. Danforth in a self complacent tone, as they sat around the neatly arranged board, "that when I am fairly established in my new situation I shall take you there, Harrison, as waiter. You would do the work charmingly, and be quite an ornament to the place."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed the mother earnestly, "I can never give my consent."

"I had much rather go to school," responded the boy; "I have so little time now to learn."

"If God prospers us, I mean to have you go next fall and winter," said his mother. "Now that you," turning to her husband, "are to have such great wages, you will be able to get him a good suit of clothes."

"I don't calculate on being able to do much in that way at present," replied the father in some confusion. "It'll cost me a good deal for my own dress; and then, it's better for the boy to depend on himself. He might learn to be idle you know, and that's against your principles, wife. Besides, Bub, you can read and write now, and keep accounts nigh about as well as I can."

"You're not going out again, I hope," said Mrs. Danforth, anxiously, as he arose and took his hat.

"I told Mr. Lamson I'd be down there, and kinder get used to things to be ready for tomorrow, that's all. I'll be back again in an hour or so."

"There's wood to cut," she urged, "and it will be very lonely without you."

"Harrison will cut some till I come."

"I'll clear away the tea things, mother, and then read to you," cried the boy, in a cheerful tone, as he saw how difficult it was for her to keep from shedding tears. "And I haven't told you yet what a fine chance I had this afternoon. A gentleman at the tailor's shop asked me to go 'way up town for him to carry a note. He paid me well, too; but the best of it was, that the lady to whom I carried it gave me a book and an omnibus ticket, so I rode all the way back. But I forgot to tell you that the tailor would have some work ready this evening: perhaps I had better run and get it now."