Alger Horatio Jr.
Making His Way; Or, Frank Courtney's Struggle Upward
CHAPTER XXII
THE YOUNG TEA MERCHANT
The next morning, at breakfast, one of the gentlemen, who had been running his eyes over the morning paper, said, suddenly:
"Ah! I see they have caught one of the gang who robbed the house of Mr. Percival, on Madison Avenue, a week ago."
"Read the paragraph, Mr. Smith," said one of the boarders.
Mr. Smith read as follows:
"About noon yesterday a boy entered the banking house of Jones & Robinson, in Wall Street, and offered for sale two one-hundred-dollar government bonds. On inquiry, he said that the bonds belonged to a man in the street, whom he had never before met, and who had offered him a dollar to sell them. This naturally excited suspicion, and a policeman was sent for. Before he could arrive the man had hastily departed, requesting the boy to meet him at a specified hour in front of the Astor House and hand him the money. He came to the rendezvous, but in disguise, and, while talking to the boy, was arrested. It is understood that he has agreed to turn State's evidence, and probably the entire sum stolen, amounting to several thousand dollars, will be recovered."
Frank listened to this paragraph with interest. He was glad that his name was not mentioned in the account, as he didn't care for such publicity. He ventured to ask a question.
"Is Mr. Percival a rich man?" he asked.
"Very rich," answered Mr. Smith. "He is not now in the city, but is expected home from Europe in three or four weeks. His house was left in charge of an old servant—a coachman—and his wife; but the burglars proved too much for them."
"I am glad they are caught," said Mrs. Fletcher. "It makes my blood run cold to think of having the houses entered at night by burglars."
"Preston," said Mr. Smith, jokingly, "I hope you have your bonds locked securely up."
"I don't believe the sharpest burglar can find them," said Preston. "I only wish I could get hold of them myself."
"The boy who helped to capture the burglar ought to be well rewarded," said one of the boarders.
"Don't you wish it had been you, Courtney?" said Mr. Preston.
"It was," answered Frank, quietly.
There was a great sensation upon this announcement. All eyes were turned upon our hero—most, it must be admitted, with an expression of incredulity.
"Come, now, you are joking!" said Preston. "You don't really mean it?"
"I do mean it," assured Frank.
"Tell us all about it," said Mrs. Fletcher, who had her share of curiosity. "I didn't suppose we had such a hero in our house."
"It didn't require much heroism," said Frank, smiling.
"Tell us all about it, at any rate."
Frank told the story as simply as he could, much to the satisfaction of the company.
"You'll come in for a handsome reward, when Mr. Percival gets home," suggested Mr. Smith.
"I don't expect anything," said Frank. "I shall be satisfied if I get the dollar which was promised me. I haven't received that yet."
"I wish I were in your shoes—that's all I've got to say," said Preston, nodding vigorously. "Will you sell out for five dollars?"
"Cash down?" asked Frank, smiling.
"Well, I'll give you my note at thirty days," said the Sixth Avenue salesman, who seldom kept five dollars in advance of his liabilities.
"I won't sell what I haven't got," said Frank. "Probably I shall hear nothing from Mr. Percival."
After breakfast Frank went downtown and sought the store of the Great Pekin Company.
After half an hour's delay—for there were others in advance of him—he was fitted out with samples and started for Brooklyn.
It was his first visit to that city, but he had received some directions which made his expedition less embarrassing.
At the ferry he took a Flatbush Avenue car, and rode up Fulton Street, and past the City Hall, up Fulton Avenue, for nearly a mile.
Here were interesting streets, lined with comfortable houses—for Frank had made up his mind first to try private houses. He had with him a few pound parcels of tea, which he thought he could perhaps succeed in disposing of at such places.
He selected a house at random, and rang the bell.
A servant answered the ring.
Frank felt rather embarrassed, but there was no time to hesitate.
"I have some samples of tea with me," he began, "of excellent quality and at reasonable prices."
"It's no use," said the girl, abruptly. "We never buy of peddlers," and she closed the door in his face.
"Not a very good beginning," thought Frank, rather mortified. "So I am a peddler," he said to himself, and he called to mind the agents and peddlers who in past years had called at the Cedars.
With some compunction, he remembered that he had regarded them with some contempt as traveling nuisances. Now he had entered the ranks of this despised class, and he began to see that they might be perfectly respectable, and were estimable persons, animated by a praiseworthy desire to make an honest living.
Thus thinking, he called at another door.
It was opened, not by a servant, but by an elderly maiden lady, who had rather a weakness for bargains.
"I've got some nice tea," said Frank, "which I should like to sell you. It is put up by the Great Pekin Company."
"Are you sure it's nice?" asked the elderly lady. "We've been getting ours at the grocery store on the avenue, and the last wasn't very good."
"You'd better try a pound of ours," said Frank.
"I don't know but I will," said the lady. "How much do you charge?"
"I have some at fifty cents, some at sixty and some at seventy."
"I guess I'll take the sixty."
Frank had a pound parcel ready, which he delivered to her, and received his money.
"Seems to me you are pretty young for a peddler," said the lady, regarding Frank with curiosity.
"Yes, ma'am."
"How old be you?"
"Sixteen."
"Been long in the business?"
"No, ma'am; I've only just commenced."
"You don't say so! Do you make much money at it?"
"I haven't made much yet. I should be glad to supply you with some more tea when this is gone."
"Well, you can call if you are round this way. If I like it, I will try you again."
Frank's spirits rose.
His profits on the pound of tea were twelve cents. This was not much, certainly, but it was a beginning.
At the next three houses he sold nothing, being rather rudely rebuffed at one. At the fourth house, the servant called her mistress, a kind, motherly-looking woman, who seemed to regard Frank with more interest than his merchandise.
"I hope you are succeeding well," she said, kindly.
"This is my first day," said Frank, "and I have made one sale."
"I have a son who is an agent like you, but he didn't begin so young. He is now traveling in the West."
"What is he selling?" asked Frank, with interest.
"Dry goods. He travels for a wholesale house in New York."
"I suppose he is a young man."
"Yes; he is twenty-five, but he began at nineteen in a small way. He sometimes got quite discouraged at first. That is why I feel interested in any who are passing through the same experience."
These pleasant words cheered Frank. Only at the nearest house he had been called a tramp, but here he found that he was regarded with consideration.
"It is rather uphill work," said Frank.
"And you seem very young."
"I am sixteen."
"Are you entirely dependent on what you earn?" asked the lady, sympathizingly.
"Not entirely," answered the young merchant, "but I hope to make a living in this or some other way. Can I sell you any?" he asked, hopefully.
"I believe we have some on hand. Still tea will always keep, and I would like to help you along."
The kind-hearted lady took three pounds—two at sixty cents and one at seventy. This gave Frank a profit thirty-eight cents and put him in good spirits.
He worked his way back to the avenue on the other side of the street, and coming to a grocery store, entered.
It occurred to him that he would try to sell some at wholesale.
Frank was so young that the dealer did not suppose him to be an agent, and asked what he would like to buy.
"I came to sell, not to buy," said Frank.
"What are you dealing in?" asked the grocer.
"I have several samples of tea," said our hero. "If you will give me an order, I will have it sent to you to-morrow."
The grocer found, upon examination, that his stock was getting low, and gave Frank an order, but he was obliged to sell below the regular price, and only cleared three cents a pound. Still, on a sale of twenty-five pounds, this gave him seventy-five cents, which was very encouraging.
Adding up his profits, thus far, Frank found that his commission amounted to a dollar and a quarter, which exceeded his anticipations.
He continued his calls, but sold only one pound besides, at fifty cents, netting him ten cents more.
CHAPTER XXIII
FRANK MEETS MR. MANNING AND MARK
The next morning Frank resumed his tea agency. As on the day previous, he went to Brooklyn; but, though I should be glad to say that he was more successful than on the first day, truth compels me to state that the day was a comparative failure.
It might be that he was unfortunate in the persons whom he visited, but at all events, at the close of his labors he found that his commissions amounted to less than fifty cents. He contented himself, therefore, with a ten-cent lunch, and crossed Fulton Ferry between three and four o'clock.
"This will never do," thought Frank, seriously. "I shall have to be economical to make my earnings cover my incidental expenses, while my board and lodging must be defrayed out of the money I have with me."
Frank was disappointed. It is easy to think of earning one's living, but not quite so easy to accomplish it. A boy, besides being ignorant of the world, is inexperienced, and so disqualified for many avenues of employment which are open to men. It is generally foolish for a boy to leave a good home and start out for himself, unless the chances are unusually favorable for him. If he does it, however, he should not allow himself to be easily discouraged.
If Frank had given up the business in which he was engaged simply because he had met with one unsuccessful day, I should not have been willing to make him the hero of my story.
"This will never do," thought Frank. "I must make a greater effort to-morrow."
The next day his commission amounted to a dollar, and the fourth day to a dollar and twelve cents.
"You are doing well," said his employer. "You are doing better than the majority of our agents."
In one way this compliment was satisfactory. In another way it was not encouraging, for it limited his prospects. Frank began to think that he would never be able to make his entire expenses as a tea agent.
I don't propose to speak in detail of Frank's daily experiences, but only to make mention of any incidents that play an important part in his history.
He was returning from Jersey City on the tenth day of his agency, when in the gentleman's cabin he saw, directly opposite, two persons whom he had reason to remember.
They were Mark Manning and his father.
Little reason as he had to like either, they reminded him of home, and he felt pleased to meet them.
He instantly crossed the cabin, and offered his hand to his stepfather, who had not yet seen him.
"When did you arrive, Mr. Manning?" he asked.
"Why, it is Frank!" exclaimed Mr. Manning, with an appearance of cordiality. "Mark, do you see Frank?"
"Yes, I see him," replied Mark, coldly.
"Haven't you anything to say to him?" asked his father, who was much more of a gentleman than his son.
"How are you?" said Mark, indifferently.
"Thank you for your kind inquiry," said Frank, more amused than vexed, for he cared very little for his stepbrother's friendship. "I am in very good health."
"And how are you getting along?" asked his stepfather, with an appearance of interest. "Are you in any business?"
"Yes," answered Frank.
"What are you doing?' asked Mark, inspired a little by curiosity.
"I am agent for a wholesale tea house in New York," Frank answered, briefly.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Mark, rather impressed. "What is the name of the firm?"
"The Great Pekin Tea Company."
"Does it pay well?" asked his stepbrother.
"I have met with very fair success," replied Frank.
"I congratulate you, Frank," said Mr. Manning. "Your energy and enterprise are creditable—extremely creditable. I always predicted that you would succeed—didn't I, Mark?'
"I don't remember hearing you say so," said Mark.
Mr. Manning shrugged his shoulders.
"Nevertheless," he said, "I have often made the remark."
"Where do you live?" asked Mark.
"I board in Clinton Place."
"A very respectable street," said Mr. Manning.
Frank now thought it was his turn to become questioner.
"How long do you remain in the city, Mr. Manning?" he asked.
"Not long—only a day or two," said his stepfather.
"We sail for Europe on Saturday," interposed Mark, "on the Cunard steamer."
"Indeed! I wish you a pleasant voyage."
"I am sorry you won't go with us, Frank," said his stepfather, cautiously. "You remember I gave you the chance to do so, and you desired to devote yourself immediately to business."
"Yes, sir. I would rather remain in New York."
"It might possibly be arranged now, if you desire to go," said Mr. Manning, hesitatingly.
"No, thank you, sir."
"Well, perhaps you are right," said his stepfather, considerably relieved.
"What parts of Europe do you expect to visit?" asked Frank.
"We shall visit England, France, the Rhine, Switzerland, and perhaps Italy."
"I hope you will enjoy it."
"Thank you; I think we shall."
Frank checked a sigh. It was certainly tantalizing. If he could travel with congenial friends, he felt that he would very much enjoy such a trip; but with Mark in the party there would be little pleasure for him.
"We are staying at the St. Nicholas Hotel," said Mr. Manning. "I would invite you to come and dine with us, but I have an engagement first, and don't know when we shall dine."
"Thank you, all the same," said Frank.
They had reached the New York side, and were walking toward Broadway. It was necessary for Frank to go to the tea store, and he took leave of his stepfather and Mark, again wishing them a pleasant voyage.
"I hate that boy!" said Mark, as they walked away.
"You should not indulge in any such disagreeable feelings, Mark," said his father.
"Don't you hate him?"
"Certainly not."
"One would think by your soft manner that you loved him," said Mark, who was not noted for the respect with which he treated his father.
"Really, Mark, I am shocked by your strange words."
"What made you invite him to go to Europe with us?"
"I knew he would not go."
"He might have accepted, and then we should have been in a pretty pickle."
"Mark," said his father, rather irritated, "will you be kind enough to leave me to manage my own affairs? I believe I have succeeded pretty well so far."
"Yes, you have," Mark admitted. "All the same, we'd better keep clear of Frank till we get safely off on the steamer."
CHAPTER XXIV
A DISCOURAGING DAY
The next day was indeed a trying one and one of many experiences for Frank.
The first lady did not buy any tea, to be sure, but seemed sorry that she was already supplied, and questioned Frank as to what success he was meeting with.
When twelve o'clock came, Frank had not sold a single pound. Even if he earned nothing however, he had an appetite and must buy lunch.
He entered a small oyster saloon, and went up to the proprietor.
"Can I sell you some tea?" he asked.
"No, I guess not. I get my tea in Harlem."
"Take a couple of pounds," said Frank, "and I will take part of the pay in lunch."
"That is business," said the other. "Let me look at your tea."
Frank showed him his samples.
"Who employs you?'
"The Great Pekin Tea Company."
"They have a good name. Yes, I will try a couple of pounds at fifty cents."
This, of course, came to a dollar, and Frank's profit on the sale amounted to twenty cents. This was precisely the cost of the lunch which he ordered, so that he felt well satisfied with the arrangement.
He left the saloon in better spirits, and resumed his travels from house to house.
I am sorry to say, however, that though he certainly exerted himself to the utmost in the interests of the Great Pekin Tea Company and his own, he did not sell another pound of tea that day.
About three o'clock he got on board a Third Avenue horse car, bound downtown and sat quietly down in a corner.
"Harlem doesn't seem to be a very promising field for an agent," he said to himself. "Perhaps it isn't fair to judge it by the first day. Still, I don't think I shall have courage to come here to-morrow. I would rather go to Jersey City or Brooklyn."
Frank got off the cars at the Bible House and walked to his boarding house, where a disagreeable surprise was in store for him.
The night brought perplexity to Frank, but not discouragement. He was naturally hopeful, and, in a large city like New York, he felt that there are always chances of obtaining employment, provided he could maintain his position, as he would have been able to do if he had not lost the thirty-five dollars which his fellow boarder had stolen. Now, however, circumstances were materially changed.
One thing was tolerably clear to Frank, and this was, that he must give up his agency. He had tried it, and been unsuccessful. That is, he had failed to earn money enough to support himself, and this was necessary.
As to what he should take up next, Frank was quite in the dark. As a boy in a counting room he would be paid not more than four dollars a week, if he could gain such a situation, which was by no means certain.
The more he thought about the matter the more perplexed he felt, and it was in an uncomfortable frame of mind that he came down to breakfast the next morning.
CHAPTER XXV
PERPLEXITY
He went out as usual after breakfast, and then walked leisurely downtown. He proposed to go to the shop of the Great Pekin Tea Company and resign his agency. He was on the watch during his walk for any opportunities to repair his unlucky loss:
At one place he saw a notice:
"BOY WANTED."
Though he felt sure the compensation would not be sufficient to allow of his accepting it, he thought it would do no harm to make inquiry, and accordingly entered.
It was an extensive retail store, where a large number of clerks were employed.
"Is a boy wanted here?" asked Frank of the nearest salesman.
"Yes. You may inquire at the desk."
He pointed to a desk some distance back, and Frank went up to it.
"You advertise for a boy," he said to a tall, stout man, who chanced to be the proprietor. "Is the place filled."
"No," was the answer; "but I don't think it would suit you."
"Do you think I would not be competent, sir?"
"No, that is not the difficulty. It would not be worth your acceptance."
"May I inquire what are the duties, sir?"
"We want a boy to open the door to customers, and this would not be worth your accepting."
"No, sir. Thank you for explaining it to me."
The gentleman was favorably impressed by Frank's polite and gentlemanly manners.
"I wish I had a place for you," he said. "Have you ever had any experience in our line of business?"
"No, sir; I have very little experience of any kind. I have acted for a short time as agent for a tea company."
"You may leave your name if you like, and I will communicate with you if I have a vacancy which you can fill."
Frank thanked the polite proprietor and walked out of the store.
Though this is a story written for boys, it may be read by some business men, who will allow me to suggest that a refusal kindly and considerately expressed loses half its bitterness, and often inspires hope, instead of discouragement.
Frank proceeded to the office of the tea company and formally resigned his agency. He was told that he could resume it whenever he pleased.
Leaving the store, he walked down Broadway in the direction of Wall Street.
He passed an elderly man, with stooping shoulders and a gait which showed that he was accustomed to live in the country.
He was looking about him in rather an undecided way. His glance happened to rest on Frank, and, after a little hesitation, he addressed him.
"Boy," he said, "do you live around here?"
"I live in the city; sir."
"Then I guess you can tell me what I want to know."
"I will if I can, sir," said Frank, politely.
"Whereabouts is Wall Street?"
"Close by, sir. I am going that way, and will be happy to show you."
Frank had no idea his compliance with the stranger's request was likely to have an important effect up his fortunes.
