!iJi;i^'*^^^?-'^^~~*"c- ►■e A ji ^ 7 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924012938035 TRY AGAIN on THE TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST A STORY FOR YOUNG FOLKS BV OLIVER OPTIC AuOuref" The Boat Club," -Att Aboard,' 'How orSmm: ^iH^DoorsaudOut^EiB. KEW VORK HURST AND COMPANY POBUSHERa XT NEPBSW, Stedetfclt MilHam Obipp, THIS BOOK n AFFBCnOHATm OBOICAXm PBBFACE BoBBT Beight and Harry West, whose historicn *ere contained in the last two volumes of the " Li- brary for Young Folks," were both smart boys. The author, very grateful for the genial welcome extended to these young gentlemen, begs leave to introduce to his juvenile friends a smart girl,— Misa Katy Eedbnm, — whose fortunes, he hopes, willproTe BuflSciently interesting to secure their attention. If any of my adult readers are disposed to aconse me of being a little extravagant, I fear I shall haft to let the case go by default ; but I shall plead, ia extenuation, that I have tried to be reasonable, even where a few grains of the romantic element were in- troduced ; for Baron Mnnchansen and Sindbad the Sailor were standard works on my shelf in boyhood, and I may possibly have imbibed some of their pecul- iar spirit. But I feel a lively satisfaction in the re- flection that, whatever exaggerations the critic may decide I have perpetrated in this volume, I have made the success of Katy Eedbnrn depend upon her good principles, her politeness, her determined per- severance, and her overcoming that foolish pride vhich ia a snare to the feet. In these respects she fa a worthy exemplar for the young. Vl ntBFACS. of the pare heart npon those with whom it cornea in eontact — to show what power even a child may possess to do a great and good work. There are many Little Angels in the world ; we have seen and known them. If I have been extravagant, Julia Bryant's example can do no harm. With many thanks to them for the unexpected favor bestowed on "Bobby Bright," the author presents Harry West to his young friends, trustintt that he will prove an acceptable companion, ana that, like him, when they faU in any good work, they will "TBT AGAIN." WILLIAU T. ADAMA QoMBmsB, Uaroh M, 1801. fBT A6AO; THB TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS OP HABBT WEST. OHAFTEB L or WBXOH RASBT WBBI AKD BQTTIBS WIUDOI SIB- AOBEB OK AS XUFOBTAXTT FOIVI. " BoT, come here I " Squire Walker was a very pompont man ; one (rf the most notable persons in the little town of Iledfield, which, the inquiring young reader will need to bo informed, as it is not laid down on any map of Massaohnsetts that I am acquainted with, is situated thirty-one miles southwest of Boston. I am not aware that Redfield was noted for anything In particular, unless it waa noted for Squire Walker, &B Mount Vernon was ncied for Wasnineton, and Monticello for Jefferson. No doubt the sqaira thought he was as great a man as either of these, and that the world was strangely stupid, because it did to find out how great a man he really was. It waa his misfortune that he was not bom in the midst of ■tirring times, ▼h«ii great eneigy, great genina, aai f lO TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS the most detenuined patriotism are anderstood and appreciated. Squire Walker, then, was i great man — in Ma own estimation. It is trae, the rest of the world. In- cluding many of the people of Eedfield, had not found it out ; but, as the matter concerned himself more nearly than any one else, he seemed to be resigned to the circumstances of his lot. He had represented the town in the legislature of the State, was a member of the school committee, one of the selectmen, and an overseer of the poor. Some mea would have considered all these offices as glory enough for a lifetime; and I dare say the squire would have been satisfied, if he had not been ambi- tions to become one of the county commissioners. The squire had a very high and proper regard for his own dignity. It was not only his duty to be a great man, but to impress other people, especially paupers and children, with a just sense of his im- portance. Consequently, when he visited the poor- bouse, he always spoke in the imperative mood. It was not becoming a man of his magnificent preten- gions to speak gently and kindly to the nnfor- tnnate, the friendless, and the forsaken ; and the men and women bated him, and the children feared him, as much as they would have feared a roaring lion. " Boy, come here ! " said Sqnira Walker, as ho raised bis arm majestically towards a yonth who waa picking up "windfalls" under the apple trees in front of the poorhouse. The boy was dressed in a suit of blue cotton clothes, extensively, but not very skilfnlly, patched. At least two thirds of the brim of his old straw hat was gone, leaving nothing but a snarly fringe of itrawa to protect iiis face nom the beat of the ano. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. II But this waa the leasb of the boy's trials. Snn or rain, heat or cold, were all the same to him, if he only got enough to eat, and time enough to sleep. " He straightened his back when Squire Walker «poke to him, and stood gazing with evident aston- ishment that the distinguished gentleman should condescend to speak to him, " Come here, you sir 1 Do you hear ? " continued Squire Walker, upon whom the boy's look of wonder and perturbation was not wholly lost. *' This way, Harry," added Mr. Nason, the keeper of the poorhouse, who was doing the honors of the occasion to the representative of the people of Bedfleld. Harry West was evidently a modest youth, and appeared to be averse to pushing himself irreverently into the presence of a man whom his vivid imagina- tion classed with Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar, whose great deeds he had read about in the Bpelling book. Harry slowly sidled along till he came within about a rod of the great man, where he paused, apparently too much overawed to proceed any farther. " Come here, I say," repeated Squire Walker. " Why don't you take your hat ofE, and make your manners ? " Harry took his hat off, and made his manners, not very gracefully, it is true j but considering the boy's {)erturbation, the squire was graciously pleased to et his " manners " pass muster. " How old are you, boy ? " asked the overseer. " Most twelve, " replied Harry, with deference. ** High time you were put to work." " I do work,' answered Harry. " Il'ot much ; yoa look as fat and laay e* one (d my fat hogs." 12 YRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS Mr. Wason ventured to suggest tHat Harry waa • ■mart, active boy, willing to work, and that he more than paid his keeping by the labor ho performed ia the field, and the chores he did about the house — an interference which the squire silently rebuked, by turning up his nose at the keeper. ** I do all they want me to do," added the boy, whose tongue seemed to grow wonderfully glib under the gratuitous censure of the notable gentle- man. " Don't be saucy. Master West." " Bless yon, souire I Harry never spoke a sancy word in his life, interposed the friendly keeper. " He should know his place, and leara how to treat his superiors. You give these boys too much meat, Mr. Ifason. They can't bear it. Mush and molasses is the best thing in the world for them." If any one had looked closely at Harry while the functionary was delivering himself of this speech, he might have seen his eye snap and his chest heave with indignation. He had evidently conquered his timidity, and, maugre his youth, was disposed to stand forth and say, " I too am a man." His head wag erect, and he gazed unflinchingly into the eye of the squire. "Boji," said the great man, who did not like to have a pauper boy look him iu the eye without trem- bling — " boy, I nave got a place for you, and the Booner you are sent to it, the better it will be for you and for the town.' "Where is it, sir?" " Where is it ? What Is that to you, yon yonng puppy ? " growled the squire, shocked at the boy's presumption in daring to question him. ** If I am going to a place, I would like to knov where it is," replied Hturry. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. I3 ••Yon will go where you are sent I" roared tho tqnire. " I suppose I must ; bnt 1 should like to know where." "Well, then, yon shall knovr," added the over- seer maliciously ; for he had good reason to know that the intelligence would give the boy the greatest Sain he could possibly inflict. " Yon are going to acob Wire's." " AVhere, sir?" asked the keeper, looking at the squire with astonishment and indignation. " To Jacob Wire's," repeated the overseer. *• Jacob Wire's I " exclaimed Mr. Kason. "I said so." •' Do yon think that will be a good place for the boy?" asked the keeper, trying to smile to cover the indignation that waa boiling in his bosom. " Certainly I do." "Excuse me. Squire Walker, but I don't." The overseer stood aghast. Such a reply was little better than rebellion in one of the town's servants, and his blood boiled at such nnheard-of plainness of speech to him, late representative to the general court, member of the school committee, one of the selectmen, and an overseer of the poor. Besides, there was another reason why the temerity of the keeper was peculiarly aggravated. Jacob Wire waa the squire's brother-in-law ; and though the squire despised him quite as much and as heartily as the rest of the people of _ Eedfield, it was not fitting that any of his connections should be assailed by another. It was not so much the fact, as the Bonrce from which it- came, that was objectionable. •'How dare you speak to me in that manner, Mr. Nason ?" exclaimed the sqniie. "Do yoo kuoV vhoIamF" 14 TRT AGAIN ; OR, THB TRIALS Mr. Naaon did know who he was, but at that moment, and nnder those circumstances, he so _ far forgot himself as to inform the important f anotion» ary that he didn't care who he was ; Jacob Wire's was not a fit place for a heathen, much less a Chris- tian. " What do yon mean, sir ? " gasped the overseer, in his rage. " I mean just what I say. Squire Walker. Jaisob Wire is the meanest man m the county, ^He half starves his wife and children ; and no hired man ever stayed there more than a week — ^he always starved them out in that time." " If you please, sir, I would rather not go to Mr. Wire's," put in Harry, to whom the county jail seemed a more preferable place. •' There, shut up 1 I say yon shall go there 1 " replied the squire. '• Keally, squire, this is too bad. Yoa know Wire B8 well as any man in town, and " " Not another word, Mr. Nason I Have the boy ready to go to Jacob Wire's to-morrow I " and the overseer, not very well satisfied with the interview, hastened away to avoid further argument upon a delicate topic, Harry stood watching the retreating form of the great man of Eedfield. The mandate he had spoken was the knell of hope to him. It made the future black and desolate. As he gazed the tears flooded his eyes, and his feelings completely overcame him. " Don't cry, Harry," said the kind-hearted keeper, taking him by the hand. « I can't help it," sobbed Harry. «• He will whip me, and starve me to death. Don't let him put tan there." *^ " I don't know aa I can help it, Hany," AND TRIUMPHS OP HARRY WEST. I J " I am willing to work, and work hard too ; bat 1 don't want to be starved to death." " I will do what I can for you ; but the other overseers do pretty much aa Squire Walker tella them to do." " I can't go to Jacob Wire's," burst from Harry'i lips, as he seated himself on a rock, and gave way to the violence of his emotions. " I will see the other overseers j don't cry, Harry. Hope for the best." " No use of hoping against such a man aa Jacob Wire. If he don't starve me, he will work me to death. I would rather die than go there." " Well, well ; don't take on so. Perhaps some- thing can be done." " Something shall be done," added the boy, as he rose from his seat, with an air of determination in keeping with the strong words he uttered. The keeper's presence was required iu the bam, and he left Harry musing and very unhappy about his future prospects. The thought of becoming a member of Jacob Wire's family was not to be enter- tained. The boy was a pauper, and had been brought up at the expense of the town ; but he seemed to feel that, though fortune and friends had forsaken him, he was still a member of the great human family. Jacob Wire, with whom it was proposed to appren- tice him, had the reputation of being a hard master. He loved money, and did not love anything else. His heart was barren of affection, as his soul was of good principles; and though he did not literally starve his family and his help, he fed them npon the f)oorest and meanest fare that would support human if e. The paupers in the poorhonse lived sumptuously, compared witn those who gathered aroaud the board of Jacob Wire, 16 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THB TRIALS The keeper knevr this from experience, for yeaifl ago, before he had been appointed to his present eitnation, he had worked for Wire ; and age and prosperity had not improved him. The more he got, the more he wanted ; the fuller his barn and store- house, the more stingy he became to those who were dependent npon him. Harry West was a good boy, and a great favorite with the keeper of the poorhonse. He waa always good-natured, willing to work, and never grumbled about his food. He was not only willing to take care of the baby washing days, but seemed to derive pleasure from the occupation. For all these reasons Mr. Nason liked Harry, and had a deep interest in his welfare ; something more than a merely selfish interest, for he had suggested to the overseers the propriety of binding him out to leara some good trade. Harry was sad and disheartened: but ho bad nnlimited confidence in the keeper, and felt sure that he would protect him from such a calamity as being sent to Jacob Wire's. After he had carried the windfalls into the shed, he asked Mr. Nasoa if he might go down to the river for a little while. The permission given, he jumped over the cow yard wall, and with his eyes fixed m deep thought upon the ground, made his way over the hill to Pine Pleasant, as the beautiful grove by the river's side was called. The grove extended to the brink of the stream, which in this place widened into a pond. Near the shore was a large flat rock, which was connected with the main land by a log, for the convenience of anglers and bathers. This was a favorite spot with Harry ; and upon the rock he seated himself, to sigh over the hard lot which was in store for him. It vas not a good way to contend with the trialt W Aim TRIUMPHS OP HARKY WB8T. If which all are eabjected ; bnt he had not yet learned that sorrow and adrersity are as necessary for man as joy and prosperity. Besides^ it was » tnminff point in his life, and it seemed to him tiiat Jacob Wire's house ironld be the tomb of all hia hopet. OHAFTSBn. mWHIOH EABBT FIKSS A VBHEND, AVD A HIAO- rcOABLB BOHSMB VOB BBSIMASOB. Mt yonng readers will probably desire to know something abont Harry's " anteceoents ;" and while the poor fellow is monming over the hard lot which 6(]^nire Walker has marked' ont for him, we will briefly review his previous history. Unlike the heroes of modem novels and romances, Harry did not belongto an ancient, or even a very respectable family. We need not trace his genealogy for any considerable period, and I am not sure that the old records wonla throw mncb light on the sab< lect if we shonld attempt to do so. The accident of Dirth in onr republican land is a matterof very little consequence ; therefore we shall only go back to Hanys father, who was a carpenter by trade, but had a greater passion for New England rum than for chisels and foreplanes. The bane of If ew England was the bane of Frank- lin West ; for he was a kind-hearted man, a good husband and a good father, before he was deformed by the use of liquor. He made good wages, and ■npported his little family creditably for several years ; but the vile habit grew npon him to such a degree tfask tin people of Bedfield lost all confidence in him. 18 TRY again; or, the TRIALS As his business decreased, his besetting vice increased upon him, till he was nothing but the wreck of the man he had once been. Poverty had come, and tyant stared him in the face. While everybody was wondering what would be- come of Franklin West, he suddenly disappeared, and no one could form an idea of what had become of him. People thought it was no great matter. He was only a nuisance to himself and his family. Mrs. West was shocked by this stidden and mysteri- ous disappearance. He was her husband, and the father of her children, and it was not strange that she wept, and even hoped that he would come back. The neighbors comforted her, and put her in the way of supporting herself and the cnildren, so that she was very soon reconciled to the event. When West had been gone a month, his wife re- ceived a letter from him, informing her that he had determined to stop drinking, and be a man again He could not keep sober in Eedfield, among his old companions, and he was at work iu Providence till he could get money enough to pay his expenses to Valparaiso, in South America, where a lucrative place awaited him. He hoped his wife would man- age to get along for a few months, when he should be able to send her some money. Mrs. West was easy again. Her husband was not dead, was not drowned in the river, or lost in the woods ; and her heart was cheered by the prospects of future plenty, which the letter pointed out to her. A year passed by, and nothing more was heard from Franklin West. The poor, forsaken wife had a hard time to support her little family. The most constant and severe toil enabled her to pinch her way along ; but it was a bitter trial. She had no relations to help her ; and though the neighbon AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. I9 Were as kind as neighbors conld be, life was a hard sfcrugglirf. Then the baby sickened and died. This bereave* ment wemed to unnerve and discourage her, and though there was one month less to feed, her strength failed her, and she was unequal to the task. Care and sorrow did their work upon her, and though people said she died of consumption. Heaven knew she diei of a broken heart and disappointed hopes. Harry was four years old when this sad event left him alone in the world. There was none willing to assume the burden of bringing up the lonely little pilgrim, and he was sent to the poorhouse. It was a hard titte for the tender child to be removed from the endearments of a mother's love, and placed in the cheerless asylum which public charity provides for the poor and the friendless. The cliild was only four years old ; but he missed the fond kiss and the loving caresses of his devoted mother. They were kind to him there, but it was not home, and his heart could not but yearn for those treasures of afEection which glittered for him only in the heart of his mother. There was an aching void, and though he could not understand or appreciate his loss, it was none the less painful. He was a favorite child, not only with the old paupers, fiut with the koeper and his family ; and this circumstance undoubtedly softened the asperities of his lofc. As soon as he was old enough, he was required to work as much as the keeper thought his strength would bear. He was very handy about the house and barn, more so than boys usually are ; and Mr. Nason declared that, for the three years before it was proposed to send him away, he had more than earned his board and clothes. He had been at school four winters, and the school* 20 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS masters were unanimous in their praise. He wag • smart scholar, but a little disposed to be roguisli. The moral discipline of the poorhouse was not of the most salutary character. Mr. Kason, though a generous and kind-hearted man, was not a8_ ex- emplary in his daily life as might have been desired. Besides, one or two of the old paupers were rather corrupt in their manners and morals, and were not fit companions for a young immortal, whose mind, like plastic clay, was impressible to the forming power. The poorhouse was not ft good plao^ for the boy, and the wonder is that Harry, at twelve years of age, was not worse than we find him. He had learned to love Mr. Nason, as he had learned to fear and to hate Squire Walker. The latter seemed to have absolute power at the poorhouse, and to be lord and master in Eedfleld. But when the overseer proposed to place the boy in the family of a man whom even the paupers looked down upon and despised, his soul rebelled even against the mandate of the powerful magnate of the town. Harry turned the matter over and over in his mind as he eat upon the rook at Pine Pleasant. At first he tried to reconcile the idea of living with Jacob Wire 5 but it was a fruitless effort. The poor- house seemed like a paradise to such a fate. Then he considered the possibility and the practi- cability of resisting the commands of Squire Walker. He could not obtain much satisfaction from either view of the difficult problem, and as a happy resort under the trials- of the moment, he began to console himself with the reilectiou that Mr. Nason might prevail with the overseers, and save him from hii doom. He had not much hope from thia direotioii« and AND TRIUMPH3 OP HARRY WEST, SI »rhile he was turning again to the question of reslat- ftnoe, he heard footsteps in the grove. He did not feel like seeing any person, and wished he oould get out of sight ; but there was no retreating without being observed, so he lay down upon the rook to wait till the intruder had passed. The person approaching did not purpose to let him off so easily ; and when Harrjr heard his step on tho log he raisied himself up. ' ' Hallo, Harry I What are you doing here P Tak- ing a nap ? " It was Ben Smart, a boy of fourteen, who lived near the poorhouse. Ben's reputation in Bedfield was not A, No. 1 ; in fact, he had been solemnly and publicly expelled from the district school only three days before by Squire Walker, because the mis- tress oould not manage him. His father waa the village blacksmith, and as he had nothing for him to do-^«not particularly for the boy'a benefit— he kept him at school all the year round. ** 0, is that yon, Ben ? " replied Harry, more for the sake of being civil than because he wi^ed to apeak to the other. "What are you doing here?" asked Ben, who evidently did not understand how a boy could be there alone, unless he was occupied about aomethituc. " Nothing." «' Been in the water P" " No." "Fishing?" "No." Ben was nonplussed. He suspected that Harry had been engaged in some mysterious occupation, which he desired to conceal from him. " How long you been here P" coutinaed Ben« ^peroiateat^. n TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS " About half an hour." Ben stopped to think. He could make nothing of H. It was worse than the double rule of three, which he conscientiously believed had been invented on purpose to bother schoolboys. "You are up to some trick, I know. Tell me what you come down here for." " Didn't come for anything." " What is the use of telling that. No feller would come clear down here for nothing." " I came down to think, then, if you must know,** answered Harry, rather testily. " To think 1 Well, that is a good one I Ain't the poor-farm big enough to do your thinking on ? " " I chose to come down here." " Humph I You've got the blues, Harry. I should think old Walker had been afoul of you, by your looks." Harry looked up suddenly, and wondered if Beu knew what had happened. " I should like to have the old rascal down here for half an hour. I should like to souse him into the river, and hold his head under till he begged my pardon," continued Ben. " So should I," added Harry. " Should you ? You are a good feller, then 1 I mean to pay him ofE for what he did for me the other day. I wouldn't minded being turned out of school. I rather liked the idea ; but the old mutton- head got me up before all the school, and read me Buch a lecture I ^ He thinks there isn't anybody in the world but him." " The lecture didn't hurt you," suggested Harry. " No ; it didn't. But that warn't the worst of it." "What else?'' «* ]|y father give me a confounded licking when I AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 23 got home. I hayen't done smarting yet. But 1 will pay 'em off for it all." " You mean Squire Walker." " And the old man, too." " If I only had a father, I wouldn't mind letting him lick me now and then," replied Harry, to whom home seemed a paradise, though he had never under- stood it ; and a father and mother, though coarse and brutal, his imagination pictured as angels. ' " My father would learn you better than that in a few days," said Ben, who did not appreciate his parents, especially when they held the rod. . Harry relapsed into musing again. He thought how happy he should have been m Ben's place. A home, a father, a mother 1 "We value most what we have not ; and if the pauper boy could have had the blessings which crowned his reckless companion's lot, it seemed as though he would have been contented and happy. His condescension in regard to the flogging now and then, was a sincere expression of feeling. "What's old Walker been doing to you, Harry ?" asked Ben, suspecting the cause of the other's gloom. " He is going to send me to Jacob Wire's to live." "Whew! That is a good one I To die, you mean. Harry, I wouldn't stand that." " I don't mean to." " That's right ; I like your spunk. What do yon mean to do ? " Harry was not prepared to answer this question. He possessed a certain degree of prudence, and though it was easy to declare war against so powerful an enemy as Squire Walker, it was not so easy to carry on the war after it was declared. The overseer was a bigger man to him than the ogre in " Puss in Boots." Probably his imagination largely magnified 94 TRV AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS the gtandenr of the eqnire's i)ositfon,and indefinitely tnaltiplied the resoarces at his command. " What do you mean to do ?" repeated Ben, who, for some reason or other, took a deep interest in Harry's affairs. ** I don't know. I would rather die than go ; but f don't know how I can help mysnlf," answered the poor boy, gloomily. " I do." Harry looked up with interest and surprise. Ben sympathized with him in his trials, and hi« heart warmed towards him. "What, Ben?" " I daresn't tell yott now,'* replied Beni after s short pause. " Why not ? '* " Can you keep a secret ? " " Of course I can. Did I ever blow on you P" *• No, you never did, Harry, You are a first-rate feller, and I like you. But yon see, if you should blow on me now, you would spoil my kettle of fish, and your own too." " Bttt I won't, Ben." *• Promise me solemnly." " Solemnly," repeated Harry. "Well, then, I will get yoaottfcofthe Borapoas nice as a cotton hat." " How P " " I gness I won't tell you now ; but if you will come down here to-night at eleven o'clock, I will let you inte the whole thing." " Eleven o'clock ! I can't come at that time. We all go to bed at eight o'clock." " Get up and come." "I can do tliat ; bnt perhaps Mr. Nason wfll pe^ saade the overseer^ not to send me to Jacob WireVi* AND TRIUMPHS OP HARRY WE8T. 3$ *♦ I'm glad I didn't tell you, then. But promise Bie this, Harry : that, whatever happens, you'll hold your tongue." "I will, Ben." " And if Nason don't get you off, be here at eleven o'clock. Put on your best clothes, and take every- thing you want with you." " Going to run away ?" « I didn't say so." Ben made him promise again to be secret, and they eeparatedr Harry had an idea of what bis companion intended, and the scheme solved all his doubts. It was a practicable scheme of resistance, and he re- turned to the poorhouse, no longer fearful of tiw iipoeuding calamity. OHAPTEB ra. Cr WEIOa HABBY ISAVES THB FOOBHOUBB. AVD TAKES TO THE EIVEB When Harry reached the poorhouse, Mr. Nason was absent, and one of the paupers told him that he had taken the horse and wagon. Ha conjectured that the keeper had gone to see the other overseers, to intercede with them in his behalf. He did not feel as much interest in the mission as he had felt two hours before, for Ben Smart had provided a remedy for his grievances, which he had fully de> cided to adopt. It was nearly fciinsek before ivTr. N"ason returned ; and when he came his looks did not seem to indicate a favorable issue. Harry helped him nnhamesa tb;^ 20 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS horse, and as he led him into the barn the keepee opened the subject. " I have been to see the other overseers, Harry," he began, in tones which seemed to promise nothing hopeful. "I thought likely you had gone.** "As I supposed, they are all afraid of Squire Walker. They daresn't say their souls are their own." " Then I must go to Jacob "Wire's.** " The other overseers declare, if the squire says BO, you must." " It is a hard case, Mr. If ason," replied Harry, not much disappointed at the result. "I know it is, Harry. Perhaps you might try the place, and then, if you found you couldn't stand it, we might make another trial to get you off." " I don't want to go there, anyhow. I should like to help duck the squire in the horse-pond." "Well, Harry, I have done all I can for you,*' continued Mr. Nason, seating himself on a keg on the barn floor, 'f I' wish I could help you." " You have been very good to me, Mr. Nason. I shall always remember you as the best friend I ever had," replied Harry, the tears streaming down his 8un-browned cheeks. "Never mind that, Harry ; don't cry." "I can't help it; you have been so good to me, that I hate to leave you," blubbered Harry. " I am sorry you must leave us ; we shall miss you about the place, and I wish it was so that you could stay. But what makes it ten times worse, ia the idea of your going to Jacob Wire's." " Mr. Nason," said Harry, dashing down his tears, and looking earnestly at the keeper, " I have made up my mind that I won't go to Wire's anyhow." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 27 " I don't blame you ; btit I don't see how you can fight the squire. He carries too many guns for you, or for me either, for that matter. I have been think* ing of something, Harry, though I suppose, if I should speak it out loud, it would be as much as my place here is worth." " I have been thinking of something, too," con- tinued Harry, with a good deal of emphasis. "What?" *' I can't tell even you." Mr. Nason, sympathizing deeply with his young friend, did not attempt to obtain any knowledge whose possession might be inconvenient to him. He was disposed to help the boy escape the fate in store for him ; but at the same time, having a family to support, he did not wish to lose his situation, though, if the emergency had demanded it, he would probably have been willing to make even this sacrifice. " I was thinking, Harry, how astonished the squire would be, when he comes over in the morning to take you to Jacob Wire's, if he should not happen to find you here." " r dare say he would," answered Harry, with a meaning smile. " By the way, have you heard from Charles Smith lately ? You know he went to Boston last spring, and they say he has got a place, and is doing first- rate there." The keeper smiled as he spoke, and Harry under- stood him as well as though he had spoken out the real thought that was in his mind. " I suppose others might do as he has done." " No doubt of it." Mr. Nason took from his pocket the large shot bag purse, in which he kept his change, and picked out four quarters. 28 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS "Here, Harry, take these ; when you get over t« Wire's, money will keep you from starving. It will almost anywhere, for that matter." "How good you are!" exclaimed Harry, as hff took the four quarters. " You have been a father to me, and one of these days I shall be able to pay you this money back again." "Don't trouble yourself about that. Keep it; and I wish I had a hundred times as much to give you." '* I shall never forget you, Mr. JTason. I shall be a man one of these days, and we shall meet again." The supper bell rang, and they separated. Harry felt the spirit of a man stirring within him. He felt that the world had cast him off, and refused him a home, even in the poorhouse. He was determined to push his way through life like a hero, and ha nerved himself to meet whatever hardships and trial* might be apportioned to him. After supper he went to his room, gathered np the few articles of clothing which constituted his ward- robe, and tying them up in a bundle, concealed them in a hollow stump baok of the barn. At eight o'clock he went to bed as usual. He felt no desire to sleep, and would not have dared to do so if ho had. He heard the old kitchen clock strike ten. The house was still, for all had long ago retired to their rest, and he could hear the sonorous snorea of the paupers in the adjoining rooms. His heart beat quick with anxiety. It was a novel position in which he found himself. He had been accustomed to do everything fairly and " above board," and the thought of rising from his bed and sneaking out of the house like a thief was repulsive to him. But it was a good cause, in his estimation, and he did not waste much sentiment upon the matter. A con- AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 29 epiracy had been formed to cheat him of his hopes and of his future happiness, and it seemed right to him that he should iiee from those with whom he could not successfully contend. Carefully and stealthily he crept out of bed, and put on his best clothes, which were nothing to boast of at that, for t'aere was many a darn and many a patch upon the jacket and the trousers. Stockings and shoes were luxuries in which Harry was not in- dulged in the warm season ; but he had a pair of each, which he took under his arm. Like a mouse he crept down stairs, and reached the back door of the house without having disturbed any of its inmates. There were no looks on tha poorhouse doors, for burglars and thieves never in- vaded the home of the stricken, forsaken paupers. The door opened with a sharp creak, and Harry was sure he was detected. For several minutes he waited, but no sound was heard, and more carefully he opened the door wide enough to permit his pas- sage out. He was now in the open air, and a sensation of relief pervaded his mind. He was free. No man was his master in this world, and he had not le'arned to think much of the other world. As he passed through the cow yard, he heard the old gray mare whinny, and he could not resist the temptation to pay her a parting visit. They had been firm friends for years, and as ho entered the barn she seemed to recognize him in the darkness. '■■ Good-by, old Prne. I am going away to leave you," said Harry, in low tones, as he patted the mare upon her neck. " I hope they will use you well. Next to Mr. Nason, you have been my best friend. Good-by, old Prue." The mare whinnied again, as thoujgh she perfectly JO TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS comprehended this affectionate speech, and wishecl to express her sympathy with her young friend in her own most eloquent language. Perhaps Harry could not render tiie speech into the vernacular, but he had a high appreciation of her good feeling, and repeated his caresses. " Good-by, old Prue ; but, before I go, I shall give you one more feed of oats — the very last." The localities of the barn were as familiar to him as those of his own chamber ; and taking the half- peck measure, he filled it heaping full of oats at the grain chest, as readily as though it had been clear daylight. " Here, Prue, is the last feed I shall give you ; " and he emptied the contents of the measure into the trough. " Good-by, old Prue ; I shall never see you again." The mare plunged her nose deep down into the eavory mess, and seemed for a moment to forget her friend in the selfish gratification of her appetite. If she had fully realized the unpleasant fact that Harry was going, perhaps she might have been less selfish ; for this was not the first time she had been indebted to him for extra rations. Passing through the barn, the runaway was again in the open air. Everything looked gloomy and sad to him,and the scene was as solemn as a funeral. There were no sounds to be heard but the monotonous chirp of the cricket, and the dismal piping of the frogs in the meadow. Even the owl and the whip-poor- will had ceased their nocturnal notes, and the stars looked more gloomy than he had ever seen them before. There was no time to moralize over these things, though, as he walked along, he could not help think- ing how strange and solemn everything seemed on AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 3t that eventful night. It was an epoch in hia historj j one of those turning points in human life, when all the works of nature and of art, borrowing the spirit which pervades the soul, assume odd and unfamiliar forms. Harry was not old enough or wise enough td comprehend the importance of the step he was taking ; still he was deeply impressed by the strange- ness within and without. Taking his bundle from the hollow stump, he directed his steps towards Pine Pleasant. He walked very slowly, for his feelings swelled within him, and retarded his steps. His imagination was busy with the past, or wandering vaguely to the unexplored future, which with bright promises tempted him to press on to the goal of prosperity. He yearned to be a man ; to leap in an instant over the years of dis- cipline, that yawned like a great gulf between hia youth and his manhood. He wanted to be a man, that his strong arm might strike great blows ; that he might win his way up to wealth and honor. Why couldn't he be a great man like Squire Walker. Squire West wouldn't sound bad. " One has only to be rich in order to be great," thought he. " Why can't I be rich, as well as any- body else ? Who was that old fellow that saved up his fourpences till he was worth a hundred thousand dollars ? I can do it as well as he, though I won't be as mean as they say he was, anyhow. There are chances enough to get rich, and if I fail in one thing, why — 1 can try again." Thus Harry mused as he walked along, and fixed a definite purpose before him to be accomplished in life. It is true it was not a very lofty or a very noble purpose, merely to be rich ; but he had been obliged to do his own philosophizing. He had not yet dia* covered the true philosopher's stone. He had coU' S2 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIAIA eluded, like the alohemiata of old, that it was the »rt of turning anything into gold. The paupers, in their poverty, had talked most and prayed most fo| that which they had not. Wealth was to them the loftiest ideal of happiness, and Harry had adopted their conclnsiona. It is not strange, therefore, that Harry's first resolve was to he a rich man, " Seek ye Jirst the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added unto you," was a text which he had often heard repeated ; but he did not comprehend its meaning, and he had reversed the proposition, determined to look out for *' all these things" first. Tii3 village clock struck eleven, and the peal of the clear notes on the silent air out short his medita- tions, and admonished him to quioken his pace, or Ben would reach the place of rendezvous before hira. He entered the still shades of Pine Pleasant, hut saw nothing of his confederate. Seating himaell on the familiar rook in the river, he returned to his medita- tions. , He had hardly laid down the first proposition in solving the problem of hia future success, before he was startled by the discovery of a bright light in the direction of the village. It waa plainly a building on fire, and hia first impulse was to rush to the meeting-house and give the alarm } but prudence forbade. His business waa with the great wofld and the future not with Redfield and the present. A few moments later the church bell pealed ita startling notes and he heard the cry of fire in the village. The building, whatever it was, had become a mass of fierce flame, which no human arm could stay. While he waa watching the exciting spectacle, he heard footsteps in the grove, and Ben S«k«^^ out of AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. J) breath and nearly exbariBted, leaped npou the rock. '* So you are here, Harry," gasped he. "I am, Ben," replied Harry. ••"Where ia the fire?" •• We have no time to Waste now," panted Ben, rousing himself anew. " We must be off at once." Ben descended to the lower side of the rook, and hauled a small flat-bottomed boat out of the bushes that grew on the river's brink. " Where is the fire, Ben P " persisted Harry. *• Never mind the fire now } jump into the boat, and let us be off." Harry obeyed, and Ben pushed off from the rock. •• Where are you going r " asked Harry, not much pleased either with the imperative tone or the haughty •reserve of his companion. •' Down the river. Take the paddle and steer her ; the current will take her along fast enough. I am SO tired I can't do a thing more." Harry took the paddle and seated himself in the Btern of the boat, while Ben, puffing and blowing like a locomotive, placed himself at the bow. '* Tell me now where the fire is," said Harry, whose curiosity would not be longer resisted. •* Squire Walker's tarn." CHAPTER nr. IS. WHICH IT IS SHOWK THAT THE NAVlQATIOS OF THE EIVEK IS DIFFICULT AKD DANGEKOUB. Haket was astounded at this information. Ben was exhausted, as though he had been running very bard ; besides, he was much agitated—- more eo than S 04 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS the circnmstances of the occasion seemed to justify. In connection with the threat which his companion had uttered that day, these appearances seemed to point to a solution of the burning building. He readily understood that Ben, in revenge for the indig- . nity the squire had cast upon him, had set the barn vn fire, and was now running away by the light of it. This was more than he had bargained for. How« ever ill-natured he felt towards the squire for big proposal to send him to Jacob Wire's, it never oc- curred to him to retaliate by committing a crime. His ideas of Christian charity and of forgiveness were but partially developed ; and though he could not feel right towards his powerful enemy, he felt no desire to punish him so severely as Ben had done. His companion gave him a short answer, and man- ifested no disposition to enlarge upon the subject ; and for several minutes both maintained a profound silence. The boat, drifting slowly with the current, was passing from the pond into the narrow river, and it required all Harry's skill to keep her from striking the banks on either side. His mind was engrossed with the contemplation of the new and startling event which had so suddenly presented itself to embarrass his future operations. Ben was^a criminal in the eye of the law, and would be subjected to a severe penalty if detected. " I shouldn't have thought yon would have done that," Harry observed, when the silence became pain- ful to him. " Done what ? " asked Ben, sharply " Set the barn afire." " Who said I set it afire ?" " Well, I can see through a millstone when these <« a hole in it." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 35 " I didn't say I set the barn afire." " I know you didn't ; bat you said yon meant to pay the squire off for what he had done to you." " I mean to." " Haven't you done it already ? " " I didn't say I had," answered Ben, who was evi- dently debating with himself whether he should admit Harry to his confidence/ " But didn't you set the barn afire ? " " What if I did ?" ♦' Why, I should say you run a great risk." " I don't care for that." " I see the reason, now, why you wouldn't tell me what you was going to do before." " We are in for it now, Harry. I mean to pay off the squire, and " " Then you did set the barn afire ? " " I didn't .say so ; and, more than that, I don't mean to say so. If you can see through a millstone, why, just open your eyes — that's all." " I am sorry you did it, Ben." " Ko whining, Harry ; be a man." " I mean to be a man ; but I don't think there was any need of burning the barn." " I do ; I couldn't leave Redfleld without squaring accounts with Squire Walker." "Where are you going, Ben ?" " To Boston, of course." " How shall we get there ? " '• We will go by the river, as far as we can ; then take to the road." " But this is George Leman's boat — isn't it ?" "Yes " "You hooked it?" ** Of coarse I did ; yon don't suppose I shonld 36 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS mmd trifles at snch a time as this I Bat he can have it again, when I have done with it." " What was the use of taking the boat ? " " In the first place, don't you think it is easier U sail in a boat than to walk ? And in the second place, the river runs through the woods for five or six miles below Pine Pleasant ; bo that no one will be likely to see us. We shall get ofE without being found out." " But the river is not deep enough. It is full of rocks about three miles down." " We won't mind them. We can keep her clear of the rocks well enough. When I was down the river last spring, yon could't see a single rock above water, and we don't draw more than six inches." " But that was in the spring, when the water was high. I don't believe we can get the boat through." " Yes, we can ; at any rate, we can jump ashore and tow her down," replied Ben, confidently, though his calculations were somewhat disturbed by Harry's reasoning. "There is another difificnlty, Ben," suggested Harry. " 0, there are a hundred difficulties ; bnt we mustn't mind them." " They will miss the boat, and suspect at once who has got it." " We shall be out of their reach when they miss it." ^ " I heard George Leman say he was going a fishing in her to-morrow." " Did you ? Then why didn't you say so before ? " retorted Ben, angrily. " Because you didn't tell me what yea were troing todo. How could I?" AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 37 " Never mind ; it ia no use to cry for spilt milk. We will make the best of it." " We are in for it now." " That we are ; and if yoa only stick by me, it will all come out right. If we get caught, you most keep a stiff upper lip." " Never fear me." "And, above all, don't blow on me." " Of course I won't." " Whatever happens, promise that you will stick by me." "I will, Ben." " That's a good fellow, Harry. On that, we will take a bit of luncheon, and have a good time of it." As he spoke, Ben drew out from under the seat ill the bow a box filled with bread and cheese. " You see we are provisioned for a cruise, Harry," added Ben, as he offered the contents of the box to his companion. " Here is enough to last ns two or three days." "But you don't mean to keep on the river so long as that ? " . " I mean to stick to the boat as long as the naviga- tion will permit," replied Ben, with more energy than be had before manifested, for he was recovering from the perturbation with which the crime he had com- mitted filled his mind. " There is a factory village, with a dam across the river, six or seven miles below here." " I know it ; but perhaps we can get the boat round the dam in the night time, and continue our voyage below. Don't you remember that piece in the Eeader about John Ledyard, — how he went down the Con- neoticut Eiver in a canoe ? " " Yea ; and yoa got ^^iir idea from thiit ?" 38 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS " I did ; and I mean to have a first-rate time ol it-" Ben proceeded to describe the anticipated pleasures of the river voyage, as he munched his bread aiid cheese ; and Harry listened with a great deal of sat- isfaction. Banning away was not such a terrible thing, after all. It was both business and pleasure, and his imagination was much inflated by the brilliant prospect before him. There was something so novel and exciting in the afEair, that his first experience was of the most delightful character. He forgot the crime his companio:i had committed, and had almost come to regard the burning of the squire's barn as a just and proper retribution upon him, for conspiring against the rights and privileges of young America. My young readers may not know how easy it is even for a good boy to learn to love the companion- ship of those who are vicious, and disposed to take the road which leads down to moral ruin and death. Those lines of Pope, which are familiar to almoat every schoolboy, convey a great truth, and a thrill« ing warning to those who first find themselves taking pleasure in the society cf wicked men, or v/icked boys : — " Vice is a monster of so fngiitful mien As to be hated, needs but to be seen ; But seen too oft, familiar witli her face. We first endure, then pity, then embracs." Kow, I have not represented my hero at this Btagu of the story, as a very good boy, and it did not re- quire much time to familiarize him with the wicked- ness which was in Ben's heart, and which he did not take any pains to conceal. The transition from en- during to pitying, and from that to embracing, wa« AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. 39 sndden and easy, if, indeed, there was any middle passage between the first and last stage. I am sorry to say that an hour's fellowship with Ben, under the exciting circumstances in which we find them, had led him to think Ben a very good fellow, notwithstanding the crime he had committed. I shall do my young reader the justice to believe he hopes Harry will be a better boy, and obtain higher and nobler views of duty. It must be remembered that Harry had never learned to ''love God and man" on the knee of an affectionate mother. He had long ago forgotten the little prayers she had taught him, and none were said at the poorhouse. We are sorry he was no better ; but when we consider under what influences he had been brought up, it is not strange that he was not a good boy. Above every earthly good, we may be thankful for the blessing of a good home, where we have been taught our duty to God, to our fellow-beings, and to ourselves. The young navigators talked lightly of the present and the future, as the boat floated gently along through the gloomy forest. They heard the Eedfield clock strike twelve, and then one. The excitement had begun to die out. Harry yawned,, for he missed his accustomed sleep, and felt that a few hours' rest in his bed at the poorhouse was even preferable to navigating the river at midnight. Ben gasped several times, and the fun was really getting very stale. Those " who go down to the sea in ships," or navi- gate the river in boats, must keep their eyes open. It will never do to slumber at the helm ; and Harry soon had a practical demonstration of the truth oi the proposition. He was so sleepy that he could not possibly keep his eyes open ; and Ben, not having the care of the helm, had actually dropped off, and 40 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS was bowing as politely as a French dancing mastef to his companion in the stern. They were a couple of smart sailors, and needed a little wholesome discipline to teach them the duty of those who are on the watch. The needed lesson was soon administered ; for just as Ben was making one of his lowest bows in his semi-conscious condition, the bow of the boat ran upon a concealed rock, which caused her to keel over on one side, and very gently pitch the sleeper into the river. Of course, this catastrophe brought the commander of the expedition to his senses, and ronsed the helms- man to a sense of his own delinquency ; though it is clear that, as there were no lighthouses on the banks of the river and the intricacies of the channel had never been defined and charted for the benefit of the adventurous navigator, no human forethought could have provided against the accident. Harry put the boat about, and assisted his dripping shipmate on board again. The ducking he had re- ceived did not operate very favorably upon Ben's temper, and he roundly reproached his companion for his carelessness. The steersman replied with becoming spirit to this groundless charge, telling him he had better keep his eyes open the rest of the night. Wet and chilly as he was, Ben couldn't help growling; and both evidently realized that the affair was not half as romantic as they had adjudged it to be an hour or two before. "Never mind it, Ben. If we fail once let ns try again — that's all." " Try again ? You want to drown me, don't you," snarled Ben. Harry assured him he did not, and called his at- tention to the sound of dashing waters, which could AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 4I now be plainly heard. They were approaching the rocks, and it was certain from the noise that difficult navigation was before them. Harry proposed to haul up by the river's side, and wait for daylight ; to which proposition, Ben, whose ardor was effectually cooled by the bath he had received, readily assented. Accordingly they made fast the painter to a tree on the shore, and both of them disembarked. While Harry was gathering up a pile of dead leaves for a bed, Ben amused himself by wringing out his wet clothes. "Suppose we make a fire, Harry?" suggested Ben ; and it would certainly have been a great luxury to one in his damp condition. "No; it will betray us," replied Harry, with alarm. " Humph I It is easy enough for you to talk, who are warm and dry," growled Ben. " I am going to have a fire, anyhow." In vain Harry protested. Ben had some matches in the boat, and in a few minutes a cheerful fire blazed in the forest. As the leader of the enterprise felt its glowing warmth, his temper was sensibly im- proved, and he even had the hardihooa to laugh at his late misfortune. But Harry did not care just then whether his companion was pleasant or sour, for he had stretched himself on his bed ot leaves, and was in a fair way to forget the trials and hardships of the voyage in the deep sleep which makes it "all night " with a tired boy. After Ben was thoroughly dried and warined, he placed himself by the side of his fellow-vovagcr^ «,nd both journeyed together through the quiet shaaes <)f dreamland, leaving no wakeful eye to watch over tixQ interests of the expedition while they smmbered. 42 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS CHAPTER V. IN WHICH HAKEY SIGHTS A HARD BATTLE, AND IS DEFEATED. The sun was high in the heavens when the tired boatmen awoke. IJnaccustomed as they were to fatigue and late hours, they had been completely overcome by the exertion and exposure of the pre- vious night. Harry was the first to recover his lost senses ; and when he opened his eyes, everything looked odd and strange to him. Ifc was not the rough, but neat and comfortable little room in the poorhouse which greeted his dawning conciousness ; it was the old forest and the dashing river. He did not feel quite at home ; the affair had been di- vested of its air of romance, and he felt more like a runaway boy than the hero of a fairy tale. " Hallo, Ben 1 " shouted he, to his sleeping com- panion. Ben growled once, and then rolled over, as if angry ftt being disturbed. " Ben ! We shall be caught, if yon don't wake np. There, the clock is striking eight ! " and to give Ben a better idea of where he was, he administered a smart kick in the region of the ribs. " What are you about ? " snarled Ben, springing to his feet with clinched fists. " Time we were moving. Don't you see how high the sun is ? The clock has just struck eight." " Ho matter for that. We are just as safe here as AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 43 anywhere else. You kick me again, and see where you will be ! " " Come, come, Ben ; don't get mad." " Don't kick me, then." " "What are you going to do now ? " " That's my business. You do what I tell yon j that's all you have to do with it," replied Ben, im- periously, as he walked to the bank of the river to survey the difficulties of the navigation. " Is it ? " asked Harry, not particularly pleased srith this interpretation of their relations. " You better believe it is." " I don't believe anything of the kind. I ain't jur nigger, anyhow ! " added Harry, with spirit. "I'll bet- you are." '' I'll bet I ain't." _ " "What are you going to do about it ? " " 111 let you know what I am going to do." " If you don't mind what I tell you, I'll wallop you on the spot." " No, you won't ; " and Harry turned on his heel, and leisurely walked off towards the thickest of the forest. " "Where are you going ?" " Off." " Off where ? " " Do you think I'm going to stay with you, to be treated like a dog ! " replied Harry, as he continued his retreat. Ben started after him, but Harry picked up a stick of wood and stood on the defensive. " ISTow, if you don't come back. 111 break "^Br head ! " said Ben. " Look out that your own don't get broke ; " and Harry brandished his cudgel in the air. Ben glanced at the club, and saw from the flash of f4 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS Earry's bright eye, that he was thoroughly aroused. His companion was not to be trifled with, and ha was ready to abandon the point. " Come, Harry, it's no use for us to quarrel," ha added, with a forced smile. '* I know that ; but I won't be trod upon by you, or anybody else." " I don't want to tread on you." " Yes, you do ; you needn't think yoa are going *o lord it over me in that way. I will go back to the poorhouse first." "Let's be friends again, Harry, Throw down your club." " Yes, and let you lick me then I No, you don't I " " I won't touch you, Harry ; upon my Word and honor, I won't." " Humph 1 Your word and honor ain't worth much. I'll go back, if you'll behave yourself ; but I shall keep the club handy." " Anyway you like ; but let us be off." Ben changed his tone, and condescended to tell Harry what he meant to do, even at the sacrifice of his dignity as commander of the expedition. An appearance at least of good feeling was restored, and after breakfasting on their bread fmd cheese, they embarked again, on what now promised to be a perilous voyage. For a quarter of a mile below, the bed of the nar- row river was spotted with rocks, among which the waterdashed with a fury that threatened the destruc- tion of their frail bark. For a time they seriously debated the question of abandoning the project, Har- ry proposing to penetrate the woods in a northeast- erly direction. _ Ben, however, could not abandon the prospect of sailing leisurely down the river when they had passed the rapids, making the passage with AND TRIUMPHS OF HA&RY WEST. 45 out any exertion. He was not pleased with the idea of trudging along on foot for thirty miles, when the river would bear them to the city with only a little difficulty occasionally at the rapids and shoal places. Perhaps his plan would have been practicable at the highest stage of water, but the river was now below its ordinary level. Ben's love of an easy and romantic time carried the day, and Harry's practical common sense reason- ing was of no avail, and a taunt at his covardics induced him to yield the point. " Now, Harry, you take one of the paddles, and place yourself in the bow, while I steer," said Ben, as he assumed his position. " Very well ; you shall be captain of the boat, and I will do just as you say ; but I won't be bullied on shore," replied Harry, taking the station assigned him. " All right ; now cast off the painter, and let her slide. Keep both eyes open." " Never fear me ; I will do my share." The boat floated out into the current, and was borne rapidly down the swift-flowing stream. They were not very skilful boatmen, and it was more a matter of tact than of strength to keep the boat from dashing on the Sharp rocks. For a little way, they did very well, though the passage was sufficiently ex- citing to call their powers into action, and to suggest a doubt as to the ultimate result of the venture. They soon reached a place, however, where the river turned a sharp angle, and the waters were fnri-' ously precipitated down upon a bed of rocks, which threatened them with instant destruction. " "We shall be smashed tp pieces ! " exclaimed the foolhardy pilot, as his eye measured the desceut ol UxQ waters. " Let's try to get ashore." 4© TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS " Too late now," replied Harry, coolly. " Put hei through hit or miss." But Ben's courage all oozed out, in the face of this imminent peril, and he made a vain attempt to push the boat towards the shore. " Paddle your end round, Harry," gasped Ben, in the extremity of fear. *' We shall be smashed to pieces." " Too late, Ben ; stand stiff, and make the best of it," answered Harry, as he braced himself to meet the shock. The rushing waters bore the boat down the stream in spite of the feeble efforts of the pilot to check her progress. Ben seemed to have lost all his self-pos- session, and stooped down, holding on with both Lauds at the gunwale. Down she went into the boiling caldron of waters, roaring and foaming like a little Niagara. One hard bump on the sharp rocks, and Harry heard the boards snap under him. He waited for no more, but grasp- ing the overhanging branches of a willow, which grew on the bank, and upon which he had before fixed his eyes as the means of rescuing himself, he sprang up into the tree, and saw Ben tumbled from the boat into the seething caldron. " Save me, Harry I " shouted Ben. But Harry had to save himself first, which, how- ever, was not now a difficult matter. Swinging him- self from branch to branch till he reached the trunk of the willow, he descended to the ground, without having even wet the soles of his shoes. " Save me ! save me ! " cried Ben, in piteous ac- cents, as the current bore him down the stream. " Hold on to the boat," replied Harry, " and I will be there in a minute." Seizing a long pole which had some time formed AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 4/ part of a fence there, he hastened down the bank to the water's edge. The water was not very deep, but it ran so rapidly that Ben could neither swim nor stand upon the bottom ; and but for his compan- ion's promptness, he would undoubtedly have been drowned. Grasping the long pole which Harry ex- tended to him, he was drawn to the shore, having received no other injury than a terrible fright and a good dn eking. '■' Here we are," said Harry, when his companion was safely landed. "Yes, here we are," growled Ben ; "and it is all your fault that we are here." " It is my fault that you are here ; for if I had not pulled you out of the river, you would have been drowned," replied Harry, indignantly ; and perhaps he felt a little sorry just then that he had rescued his ungrateful commander, " Yes, and if you had only done as I told you, and pushed for the shore above the fall, all this would not have happened." " And if you hadn't been a fool, we should not have tried to go through such a hole. There goes your old boat ; " and Harry pointed to the wreck, filled with water, floating down the stream. "Here they are I" shouted a voice, not far from them. Harry started, and so did Ben. " "We are caught I " exclaimed Ben. " Not yet," replied Harry, with some trepidation, as he broke off a piece of the pole that lay at his feet, and retreated from the river. *' Take a club, for I am not going to be carried back without fighting for it." A sniTey of the ground and of the pursuers 48 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS ' enabled him to prepare for the future. He discovered at a glaBce the weakness of the assailants. " Take a clnb, Ben. Don't you see there is only one man on this side of the river ? and ^Ye can easily beat him off." Ben took the clnb ; but he seemed not to have the energy to use it. In fact, Harry showed himself better qualified to manage the present interests of the expedition than his companion. All at once he developed the attributes of a skilful commander, while his confederate seemed to have lost all his cunning and all his determination. " Now, let us run ; and if we are caught we will fight for it," said Harry. The boys took to their heels, and having a fair start of their pursuer, they kept clear of him for a considerable distance ; but Ben's wet clothes impeded his progress, and Harry had too much magnanimity to save himself at the sacrifice of his companion. It was evident, after the chase had continued a Bhort time, that their pursuer was gaining upon them. In vain Harry urged Ben to increase his speed ; his progress was very slow, and it was soon apparent to Harry that they were wasting their breath in running when they would need it for the fight. " Now, Ben, we can easily whip this man, and save ourselves. Be a man, and let us stand by each other to the last." Ben made no reply ; but when Harry stopped, he did the same. ** Keep off I or we will knock your brains out," cried Harry, placing himself in the attitude of de- fense. But the man took no notice of this piece of brava- do ; and, as he approached, Harry leveled a blow at AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY VSST. 49 his head. The man warded it off, and Bprang for- ward to grasp the little rebel. "Hit him, Ben I" shouted Harry, as he dodged the s«'oop of his assailant. To his intense indignation and disgust, Ben, in- stead of seconding his assault, dropped his club, and fled. He seemed to run a good deal faster than ha had run before that day ; but Harry did not give up the point. The man pressed him closely, and he defended himself ■^('ith a skill and vigor worthy a better cause. But it was of no use ; or, if it was, ifc only gave Ben more time to effect his escape. The unequal contest, however, soon terminated in the capture of our resolute hero, and the man tied his hands behind his back ; but he did not dare to leave the young lion to go in pursuit of his less un- fortunate, but more guilty, confederate. ** There, Master Harry West, I think you have got into a tight place now," said his captor, whose name was Nathan Leman, brother of the person to whom the boat belonged. " We will soon put you in a place where you won't burn any more barns." Harry was confounded at this charge, and promptly and indignantly denied it. He had not considered the possibility of being accused of such a crime, and it seemed to put a new aspect upon his case. " You did not set fire to Squire Walker's barn last night ? " replied Leman, incredulously. " No, I did not." "Perhaps you can make the squire believe it," Bneered his captor. « I didn't do it." *' Didn't steal my brother's boat either, did yon P * "/didn't." "Who did?" Harry thought a moment. After the mean trick 4 50 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS which Ben Smart had served him, he did not feel very kindly towards him, but he was not yet pre- pared to betray him. " I didn't," was his reply. ISTathan Leman then conducted his prisoner to the river's side. By this time the other pursuer, who had been obliged to ascend the river for a quarter of a mile before he could cross, joined him. " Where is the other fellow ? " he asked. " Couldn't catch him. This one fought like a young tiger, and I couldn't leave him," replied Na- than. " If you will take Harry up to the village, I will soon have him." The other assented, and while Nathan went in search of Ben, Harry was conducted back to the village. The prisoner was sad and depressed in spirits ; but he did not lose all hope. He was appalled at the idea of being accused of burning the barn ; but he was innocent, and had a vague assurance that no harm could befall him on that account. When they entered the village, a crowd gathered around them, eager to learn the particulars of the capture ; but without pausing to gratify this curiosity, Harry's conductor led him to the poorhouse, and placed him in charge of Mr. Nason. CHAPTER VI. IJS" WHICH HAEET CONCLUDES THAT A DEFEAT 18 SOMETIMES BETTER THAN A TICTOET. The keeper of the poorhouse received Harry ia sullen silence, and conducted him to the chamber in which he had been ordered to keep him a close prisoner. He had apparently lost all confidence in AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST, gl him, and regretted that he had conniTed at his Harry did not like the cold and repulsive deport- ment of his late friend. Mr. Nason had always been kind to him ; now he seemed to have fallen in with Squire Walker's plans, and was willing to be the in- strument of the overseer's narrow and cruel policy. Before, he had taken his part against the mighty, so far as it was prudent for him to do so ; now, he was willing to go over to the enemy. This reverse made him sadder than any other cir- cumstance of his return — sadder than the fear of punishment, or even of being sent to live with Jacob Wire. "I've got back again," said Harry, when they reached the chamber in which he was to be confined. " I see you have," replied Mr. Nason, in freezing tones. The keeper had never spoken to him in such tones, and Harry burst into tears. His only friend had deserted him, and he felt more desolate than ever before in his life. " You needn't cry, now," said Mr. Nason, sternly. " I can't help it," sobbed the little prisoner. " Can't you ? " Mr. Nason sneered as he spoke, and his sneer pierced the heart of Harry. "0 Mr. Nason!" " There — that will do. You needn't blubber any more. You have made your bed, and now you can lie in it ; " and the keeper turned on his heel to leave the room. " Don't leave me yet," pleaded Harry. " Leave you ? What do you want of me ? I sup- pose yon want to tell me I advised you to burn the oam." $a TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS " I didn't set the barn afire I " exclaimed Harrjr, now for the first time realizing the cause of his friend'* displeasure. "Don't lie." " I speak the truth. I did not set it afire, or even know that it was going to be set on fire." Mr. Kason closed the door which he had opened to depart. The firm denial, as well as the tone and manner of the boy, arrested his judgment against him. He had learned to place implict confidence in Harry's word ; for though he might have told lies to others, he never told them to him. " Who did burn the barn ? " asked the keeper, looking sternly into the eye of the culprit. Harry hesitated. A sense of honor and magnan- imity pervaded his soul. He had obtained some false notions ; and he did not understaud that he could hardly be false to one who had been false to himself —that to help a criminal conceal his crime was to conspire against the peace and happiness of his fellow- beings. Shabbily as Ben Smart had used him, h« could not at once make up his mind to betray him. " You don't answer," added Mr. Nason. «' I didn't do it." "But who did?" " I don't like to tell." " Very well ; you can do as you like. After what I had done for you, it was a little strange that you Bhould do as you have." " I will tell you all about it, Mr. Nason, if yon will promise not to tell." "I know all about it. You and Ben Smart put your heads together to be revenged on the squire ; you set his barn afire, and then stole Leman's boat." "No, sir ; I didn't set the barn afire, nor steal the boat, nor help to do either." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 53 " You and lie were together." " We were ; and if it wasn't for being mean to Ben, I would tell you all about it." " Mean to Ben ! As soon as it was known that you aud Ben were missing, everybody in the village knew who set the barn afire. All you have got to do is to clear yourself, if you can ; Ben is condemned already." "If you will hear my story, I will tell yoa all about it." Harry proceeded to narrate everything that had occurred since he left the house on the preceding night. It was a very clear and plausible statement. He answered all the questions which Mr. Nason pro- posed with promptness, and his replies were con- sistent. " I believe you, Harry," said the keeper, when he had finished his examination. " Somehow I couldn't believe you would do such a thing as set the squire's barn afire." " I wouldn't," replied Harry, warmly, and much pleased to find he had reestablished the confidence of his friend. " But it is a bad case. The fact of your being with Ben Smart is almost enough to convict you." " I shouldn't have been with him, if I had knowa he set the barn afire." " I don't know as I can do anything for yon Harry ; but I will try." " Thank you." Mr. Nason left him, and Harry had aa opportunity to consider the desperate circumstances of his posi- tion. It looked just as though he should be sent to the house of correction. But he was innocent. He felt his innocence ; as he expressed it to the keeper afterwards, he " felt it in his bones." It did not, on J4 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS further consideration, seem probable that he would be punished for doing what he had not done, either as principal or accessory. A vague idea of an all- pervading justice consoled him ; and he soon reasoned himself into a firm assurance that he should escape unharmed. He was in the mood for reasoning just then— peahaps because he had nothing better to do, or per- haps because the added experience of the last twentj- four hours enabled him to reason better than before. His fine scheme of getting to Boston, and there making a rich and great man of himself, had signally failed. He did not give it up, however. " I have failed once, but 1 will try again," said he to himself, as the conclusion of the whole matter ; and he picked up an old school-book which lay on the table. The book contained a story, which he had often read, about a man who had met with a long list of misfortunes, as he deemed them when they occurred, but which proved to be blessings in disguise. " Oft from apparent ills our blessings rise. Act well your part ; there all the honor lies.'' This couplet from the school-books came to his aid, also ; and he proceeded to make an application of this wisdom to his own mishaps. " Suppose I had gone on with Ben. He is a mis- erable fellow," thought Harry ; " he would have led me into all manner of wickedness. I ought not to have gone with him, or had anything to do with him. He might have made a thief and a robber of just aa the parson says when anybody dies. By this AND TRIUMPHS OP HARRY WEST. 5) scrape I have got clear of Ben, and learned a lessoa that I won't forget in a hurry." Harry was satisfied with this logic, and really be« Heved that something which an older and mora devout person would have regarded as a special providence had interposed to save him from a life of infamy and wickedness. It was a blessed experi* ence, and his thoughts were very serious and ear- nest. In the afternoon. Squire Walker came down to the poorhouse to subject Harry to a preliminary examina- tion. Ben Smart had not been taken, and the pur- suers had abandoned the chase. " Boy," said the squire, when Harry was brought before him ; " look at me." Harry looked at the overseer, with all his might. He had got far enough to despise the haughty little great man. A taste of freedom had enlarged his ideas and developed his native independence, so that he did not quail, as the squire intended he should ; on the contrary, his eyes snapped with the earnest- ness of his gaze. With an honest and just man, his unflinching eye would have been good evidence in his favor ; but the pompous overseer wished to awe him, rather than get at the simple truth. " You set my barn on fire," continued the squire. " I did not," replied Harry, firmly. "Yes, you did. How dare yon deny it P" " I did not." He had often read, and heard read, that passage of Scripture which says, " Let your communications be Yea, yea, Nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these Cometh of evil." Just then he felt the truth of the inspired axiom. It seemed just as though any amount of violent protestations would not help him ; and thongli the eqnire repeated the charge half a 56 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS dozen times, he only replied with his firm and simple denial. Then Squire Walker called his hired man, npon whose evidence he depended for the couviotion ol the little incendiary. " Is that the boy, John P "asked the squire, point- ing to Harry. " Ko, sir ; it was a bigger boy than that," replied John, without hesitation. " Are you sure ? " " 0, very sure." " It must be that this is the boy," persisted the squire, evidently much disappointed by the testimony of the man. •• I am certain it was a bigger boy than this.' " I feel pretty clear about it, Mr. Nason," added the squire. " Yon see, this boy was mad, yesterday, because I wanted to send him to Jacob Wire's. My barn is burned, and it stands to reason he burned it. " But I saw the boy round the barn night afore last," interposed John, who was certainly better qualified to be a Justice of the peace than his employer, "I know that; but the barn wasn't burned till last night." " But Harry couldn't have had any grudge against you night before last," said Mr. Naeon, " I don't know about that," mused the squire, who was apparently trying to reconcile the facts to hia theory, rather than the theory to the facts, John, the hired man, lived about three miles from the squire's house. His father was very sick ; and he had been home every evening for a week, return- ing between ten and eleven. On the night preceding the fire, he had seen a boy prowling round the barn who ran away at his approach. The next day, he found a pile of withered grass, dry sticks, ami *ND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. $f other combustibies neaped against a loose board in tlie Bide of the barn. He had informed the squire of the facts ; but the worthy justice did not consider them of much moment. Probably Ben had intended to burn the barn then, but had been prevented from executing his purpose by the approach of the hired man. " This must be the boy," added the squire. " He had on a sack coat, and was bigger than this boy," replied John. " Harry has no sack coat,** put in Mr. Nason, eagerly catching at this evidence. " It is easy to be mistaken in the night. Search him, and see if there are any matches about him." Undoubtedly this was a very brilliant suggestion of the squire's muddy intellect — as though every man who carried matches was necessarily an incendiary. But no matches were found upon Harry ; and, ac- cording to the intelligent justice's perception of the nature of evidence, the suspected party should have been acquitted. K" matches were found on Harry ; but in his jacket pocket, carefully enclosed in a piece of brown paper, were found the four quarters of a dollar given to him by Mr. Nason. " Where did you get those ? " asked the squire, sternly. " They were given to me," replied Harry. Mr. Nason averted his eyes, and was very uneasy. The fact of having given this money to Harry went to show that he had been privy to his escape ; and his kind act seemed to threaten him with ruin. " Who gave them to you ? " Harry made no reply. " Answer me," thundered the squirOb '* I shall not tell," replied Harry. 58 THE AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS "Yon shall not P" "No, sir." The squire was nonplussed. The boy was as firm us a hero ; aud no threats could induce nim to betray his kind friend, whose position he fully compre- hended. " We will see," roared the squire. Several persons who had been present during the examination, and who were satisfied that Harry waa innocent of the crime charged upon him, interfered to save him from the consequences of the squire's wrath. _ Mr. Kason, finding that his young friend was likely to suffer for his magnanimity, explained the matter — thus turning the squire's anger from the b«)y to himself. " So you helped the boy run away— did you P" eaid the overseer. " He did not ; he told me that money wonld keep me from starving." "Did he?" Those present understood the allusion, and the squire did not press the matter any further. In the course of the examination, Ben Smart had often been alluded to, and the crime was fastened upon him, Harry told his story, which, confirmed by the evi- dence of the hired man, was fully credited by all except the squire, who had conceived a violent an- tipatny to the boy. The examination was informal ; the squire did not hold it as a justice of the peace, but only as a citi- tevL, or, at most, as an overseer of the poor. How- ever, it proved that, as the burning of the barn had been planned before any difficulty had occurred be- tween the squire and Harry, he had no motive foi doing the deed. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 59 The squire was not satisfied ; but tlie worst he could do was to commit Harry to the care of Jacob Wire, which was immediately done. " I am sorry for you, Harry," whispered Mr. Nason. " Never mind ; I shall try again," he replied, as be jumped into the wagon with his persecutor. CHAPTEE VIL CT WHICH HARRT FIKD3 HIMSELF IS A TIGHT PLACE, AND EXECUTES A COUlfTEB MOVEMEXT. " Jacob, here is the boy," said Squire Walker, as he stopped his horse in front of an old, decayed house. Jacob Wire was at work in his garden, by the side of the house ; and when the squire spoke, he straight- ened his back, regarding Harry with a look of min- gled curiosity and distrust. He evidently did not like his appearance. He looked as though he would eat too much ; and to a man as mean as Jacob, this was the sum total of all enormities. Besides, the little pauper had earned a bad reputation within the pre- ceding twenty-four hours, and his new master glanced uneasily at his barn, and then at the boy, as though he deemed it unsafe to have such a desperate charac- ter about his premises. " He is a hard boy, Jacob, and will need a little taming. They fed him too high at the poorhouse," continued the squire. " That spiles boys," replied Jacob, solemnly. « So it does." " So, this is the boy that burnt your barn ? " *' Well* I dQu't know. I rather thinly it was fchf 6o TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS Smart boy. Perhaps he knew abont it, though ; " and the squire proceeded to give his brother-in-law the particulars of the informal examination ; for Jacob Wire, who coald hardly afford to lie still on Sundays, much less other days, had not been up to the vil* lage to hear the Dews. *' You must be pretty sharp with him," said the overseer, in conclusion. " Keep your eye on him all the time, for we may want him again, as soon as they can catch the other boy." Jacob promised to do the best he could with Harry, who, during the interview, had maintained a sullen eilence ; and the squire departed, assured that he had done his whole duty to the public and to the little pauper. " Well, boy, it is about sundown now, and I guess we will go in and get some supper before we do any more. But let me tell ycu beforehand, you must walk pretty straight here, or you will fare hard." Harry vouchsafed no reply to this speech, and fol- lowed tJaoob into the house. His first meal at hia new place confirmed all he had heard abont the penu- riousness of his master. There was very little to eat on the table, but Mrs. Wire gave him the poorest there was — a hard crust of brown bread, a cold potato, and a dish of warm water with a very little molasses and milk in it, which he was expected to imagine was tea. Harry felt no disposition to eat. He was too sad and depressed, and probably if the very best had been set before him, he would have been equally indif- ferent. He ate very little, and Jacob felt more kindly to- wards him than before this proof of the smallness of his appetite. He had been compelled to get rid of Ms last boy, because he was a little ogre, and it AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 6l eeemed as thongli he would eat him outofhonse and home. After Bupper Harry assisted Jacob about the barn, and it was nearly eight o'clock before they fin» ished. '• Now, boy, it is about bedtime, and I will show yon your rooms, if yon like," said Jacob. " Befora you go, let me tell you it won't do any good to try to run away from here, for I am going to borrow Leman'a bull-dog." Harry made no reply to this remark, and followed his master to the low attic of the house, where ha was pointed to a rickety bedstead, which he was to occupy. ** There, jump into bed afore I carry the candle off," continued Jacob. ** I don't care about any light. Yon needn't wait," replied Harry, as he slipped off his shoes and stockings. •• That is right ; boys always ought to be learnt to go to bed in the dark," added Jacob, as he departed. But Harry was determined not to go to bed in the dark ; so, as soon as he heard Jacob's step on the floor below, he crept to the stairway, and silently de- scended. He had made x»p his mind not to wait for the bull-dog. Pausing in the entry, he heard Jacob tell his wife that he was going over to Leman's to borrow his dog r he was afraid the boy would get up in the night and set his barn on fire, or run away. Jacob then left the house, satisfied, no doubt, that the bull-dog would be an efficient sentinel while the fam- ily were asleep. After allowing time enough to elapse for Jacob to reach Leman's house, he softly opened the front door and went out. It was fortunate for him that Mrs. Wire was as " deaf as a post," or hia suddenly 63 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS matured plan to " try again " might have been a failure. As it was, his departure was not observed. It was quite dark, and after he had got a short distance from the house, he felt a reasonable degree of security. His first purpose was to get as far away from Eed- field as possible, before the daylight should come to betray him ; and, taking the road, he walked as fast as his legs would carry him towards Boston. Jacob's house was on the turnpike, which was the direct road to the city, and the distance which the squire had carried him in his wagon was so much clear gain. He did not feel very sentimental now. The sky was overshadowed with clouds, so that he could not see any stars, and the future did not look half so bright as his fancy had pictured it on the preceding aight. But he was free again ; and free under more favorable circumstances than before. This time he was himself commander of the expedition, and was to suffer for no one's bad generalship but his own. Be- sides, the experience he had obtained was almost a guarantee of success. It had taught him the neces- sity of care and prudence. The moral lesson he had learned was of infinitely more value than even the lesson of policy. For the first time in his life he was conscious of a deep and earnest desire to be a good boy, and to become a true man. As he walked along, he thought more of being a good man than of being a rich man. It was very natural for him to do so, under the circumstances, for he had come very near being punished as an incen- diary. The consequences of doing wrong were just then strongly impressed upon his mind, and he al- most shuddered to think he had consented to remain with Ben Smart after he knew that he burned the barn. Ah, it was an exceedingly fortunate thing for him that he had got rid of Ben as he did. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 0$ For two liOLirs he walked as fast as he could, paus- ing now and then to listen for the sound of any ap« proaching vehicle. Possibly Jacob might have gone to his room, or attic, to see if he was safe, and his escape had been discovered. He could not be too wary, and every sound that reached his waiting ear caused his heart to jump vith anxiety. He heard a clock strike eleven. It was not the Redfield clock, and it was evident that he was ap- proaching Eockville, a factory village, eight miles from his native place. But his legs were failing him. He was exhausted by the labors and the excitement of the day and night, and his strength would hardly hold out till he should get beyond the village. Seating himself on a rock by the side of the road, he decided to hold a council of war, to determine what should be done. If he went forward, hia strength might fail him at the time when a vigorous effort should be required of him. Somebody's dog might bark, and bring the " Philistines upon him." He might meet some late walker, who would detain him. It was hardly safe for him to go through the village by night or day, after the search which had been made for Ben Smart. People would be on the lookout, and it would be no hard matter to mistake him for the other fugitive. On the other hand, he did not like to pause so near Eedfleld. He had scarcely entered upon the consid- eration of this side of the question, before his quick ear detected the sound of rattling wheels in the direc- tion from which he had come. His heart beat vio- lently. It was Squire Walker and Jacob Wire, he was sure, in pursuit of him ; but his cot rage did not fail him. Leaping over the stone wall by the side of the road, be seoored the only retreat which the vicmity 64 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS ftflorded, and waited, with his heart in his throat, lor the coming of the pursuers, as he had assured him- telf they were. The present seemed to be his only chance of escape, and if he failed now, he might not Boon have another opportunity to " try again/' The vehicle was approaching at a furious pace, and as the noise grow more distinct, his heart leaped the more violently. He thought he recognized the sound of Squire "Walker's wagon. There was not much time for his fancy to conjure up strange things, for the carriage soon reached the place where he waa concealed. *• Ur-r — woo 1 " said a big bull-dog, placing hia ugly nose against the wall, behind which Harry waa lying. . , . " Whoa I " added a voice, which the trembling fugitive recognized as that of George Leman. *• The dog has scented him," said another — that of Jacob Wire. Harry's heart sunk within him, and he felt as faint fts though every drop of blood had been drawn from bis veins. " I knew the dog would fetch him," said George Leman, as he leaped from the wagon, followed by Jacob Wire. " At him. Tiger I " In obedience to this command, Tiger drew back a few steps, and then leaped upon the top of the wall. The prospect of being torn in pieces by the bull-dog waa not pleasant to Harry, and with a powerful effort he summoned his sinking energies for the struggle before him. Grasping two large stones, be stood erect as the dog leaped on the wall. Inspired by the imminence of his peril, he hurled one of the stones at Tiger, the instant he showed his ugly visage above the fence. The missile took effect npon the animal, BDd be wag eridentlj much astooisbei) at this nnusual AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 6| mode of warfare. Tiger was vanquished, and fell back from the wall, howling with rage and pain. " Thunder 1_ He has kifled my dog 1 " exclaimed Leman, as he jumped over the wall. Harry did not wait any longer, but took to liia heels, followed by both his pursuers, though not by the dog, which was hors de combat. Our hero was in a *' tight place," but with a heroism worthy the days of chivalry, he resolved not to be captured. He had not run far, however, before he realized that George Leman was more than a match for him, especially m his present worn-out condition. He waa almost upon him, when Harry executed a counter movement, which was intended to " outflank " bia adversary. Dodging round a large rock in the field, he redoubled his efforts, running now towards the road where the horse was standing. Leman was a little confused by this sudden action, and for an in- stant lost ground. Harry reached the road and leaped the wall at a single bound : it was a miracle that, in the darkness, he had not dashed his brain out upon the rocks, iu the reckless leap. The horse was startled by the noise, and his snort suggested a brilliant Idea to Harry. " Go 'long I " he shouted ; and the horse started towards Eockville at a round pace. Harry jumped into the wagon over the hind board, . and grasping the reins, put the high-mettled animal to the top of his speed. "Go 'long!" hallooed Harry, mad with excite- ment. The horse manifested no feeling of partiality to ward either of the parties, and seemed as willing tc do his best for Harry as for his master. " Stop 1 Stop I " shouted George Leman, astoanded 66 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS at the new phase which the chase had assumed. *' Stop ! and 1 will let you go." That was quite reasonable. It was natural that ha should prefer to let the fugitive escape, to the alter- native of losing his horse. George Leman was noted for three things in Eedfield : his boat, his ugly dog, and his fast horse ; and Harry, after stealing the boat and killing the dog, was in a fair way to deprive him of his horse, upon which he set a high value. The boy seemed like his evil genius, and no doubt he was angry with himself for letting so mean a man as Jacob Wire persuade him to hunt down such small game. Harry did not deem it prudent to stop, and in a few moments had left his pursuers out of sight. Then he began to breathe freer. He had played a desperate game, and won the victory ; yet he did not feel like indulging in a triumph. The battle had been a bitter necessity, and he even regretted th« fate of poor Tiger, whose ribs he had stove in with a rock. He passed through Eockville. All was still, save the roaring of the waters at the dam, and no one challenged him. " I am safe, at any rate," said he to himself, when he had passed the village. " What will be the next scrape, I wonder ? Confound it I They will have me up for stealing a horse next. But I didn't steal him. George Leman is a good fellow, and only for the fun of the thing, he wouldn't have come out on such a chase. I wouldn't steal anybody's horse. Whoal" Harry hauled up by the roadside, and fastened the horse to the fence. " There, George, yon can have your horse again ; but I will just put the blanket over him, for he is all «f a reeking sweat. It will jnst show George, wbep AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 6] he comes up, that I don't mean him any harm. I hope his dog wasn't killed." Taking the blanket which lay in the bottom of the wagon (for George Leman was very careful of his horse, and though it was October, always covered him when he let him stand out at night), he spread it over him. " E"ow, for Number One again," muttered Harry. " I must take to the woods, though I doubt if George will follow me any farther." So saying, he got over the fence, and made his way across the fields to the woods, which were but a short distance from the road. CHAPTER VIIL tS WHICH HARET KILLS A BIG SNAKE, AND UAKES A NEW FEIEND. Haert was not entirely satisfied with what he had done. He regretted the necessity which had compelled him to take George Leman'a horse. 'It looked too much like stealing ; and his awakened moral sense repelled the idea of such a crime. But they could not accuse him of stealing the horse ; for his last act would repudiate the idea. His great resolution to become a good and true man was by no means forgotten. It is true, at the very outset of the new life he had marked out for himself, he had been obliged to behave like a young ruffian, or be restored to his exacting guardians. It was rather a bad beginning ; but he had taken what had appeared to him the only course. Was it right for him to run away f On the sola« tM TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS tion of this problem depended the moral characta" of the subsequent acts. If it was right for him to run away, why, of course it was right for him to re- sist those who attempted to restore him to Jacob Wire. Harry made up his mind that it was right for him to run away, under the circumstances. His new master had been charged to break him down — evea to starve him down. Jacob's reputation as a mean and hard man was well merited ; and it was his duty to leave without stopping to say good-by. I do not think that Harry was wholly in the right, though I dare say all my young readers will sympa- thize with the stout-hearted little hero. So far, Jacob Wire had done him no harm. He had BufEered no hardship at his hands. All his misery was in the future ; and if he had stayed, perhaps his master might have done well by him, though it is not probable. Still I think Harry was in some sense justifiable. To remain in such a place was to cramp his soul, as well as pinch his body — to be unhappy, if not posi- tively miserable. He might have tried the place, and when he found it could not be endured^ fled from it. It must be remembered that Harry was a pauper und an orphan. He had not had the benefit of parental instruction. It was not from the home of those whom God had appointed to be his guardians and protectors that he had fied ; it was from one who regarded him, not as a rational being, possessed of an immortal soul — one for whose moral, mental, and Bpiritual welfare he was accountable before God — • that he had run away, but from one who considered him as a mere machine, from which it was his only interest to get as much work at as little cost as pos- sible. He Qed from a taskmaster, not &om one Vfba Vaa ia any jast sense a guardiau* AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 69 Harry did not reason out all this ; he only felt It. What was Jacob Wire to him ? What was even Squire Walker to him ? What did they care about his true welfare ? Nothing. Harry so understood it, and acted accordingly. The future was full of trials and difficulties. But his heart was stout ; and the events of the last chap- ter inspired him with confidence in his own abilitiee. He entered the dark woods, and paused to rest him- self. What should he do next ? While he was discussing this question in his own mind, he heard the sound of voices on the road, which was not more than fifty rods distant. It was George Leman and Jacob Wire. lu a few minutes he heard the sound of wagon wheels ; and soon had the satia- faction of knowing that his pursuers had abandoned the chase, and were returning home. The little fugitive was very tired and very sleepy. It was not possible for him to continue his journej, and he looked about him for a place in which to lodge. The night was chilly and damp ; and as he sat upon the rock, he shivered with cold. It would be impossible to sleep on the wet ground ; and if he could, it might cost him his life. It was a pine for- est ; and there were no leaves on the ground, so that he could not make such a bed as that in which he had slept the previous night. He was so cold that he was obliged to move about to get warm. It occurred to him that he might get into some barn in the vicinity, and nestle comforta- bly in the hay ; but the risk of being discovered waa too great, and he directed his steps towards the depths of the forest. After walking some distance, he came to an open Elace in the woods. The character of the growth ad changed, and the ground was covered with young 70 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS maples, walnnts, and oaks. The wood had been recently cnt ofE over a large area, but there were no leavrs of which he could make a bed. Fortune favored him,however ; for, after advancing half way across the open space, he reached one of those cabins erected for the use of men employed to watch coal pits. It was made of board slabs, and covered over with sods. Near it was the circular epace on which the coal pit had burned. At the time of which I write, charcoal was carried to Boston from many towns within thirty miles of the city. Perhaps my young readers may neyer have Been a coal pit. The wood is set up on the ends of the sticks, till a circular pile from ten to twenty feet in diameter is formed, and two tiers in height. Its ehape is that of a cone, or sugar loaf. It is then covered with turf and soil. Fire is communicated to the wood, so that it shall smoulder, or burn slow- ly, without blazing. Just enough air is admitted to the pit to keep the fire alive. If the air were freely admitted, the pile would burn to ashes. Sometimes the outer covering of dirt and sods falls in as the wood shrinks, permitting the air to rush in and fan the fire to a blaze. When this occurs, the aperture must be closed, or the wood would be consumed ; and it is necessary to watch it day and night. The cabin had been built for the comfort of the men who did this duty. Harrjrs heart was filled with gratitude when he discovered the rude hut. If it had been a palace, it could not have been a more welcome retreat. It is true the stormy wind had broken down the door, and the place was no better than a squirrel hole ; yet it suggested a thousand brilliant ideas of comfort, and luxury even, to our worn-out and hunted fugitive. Be entered the cabin. The floor was covered AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. Jt with straw, which completed his ideal of a luxurioaa nbode. Raising up the door, which had fallen to the ground, he placed it before the aperture — thu8 excluding the cold air from his chamber. " I'm a lucky fellow," exclaimed Harry, as he threw himself on the straw. " This place will be • Ealace beside Jacob "Wire's house. And I can stay ere a month, if I like." Nestling closely under the side of the hut, ho pulled the straw over him, and soon began to fee* perfectly at home. Only one consideration trouble* him. The commissary department of the establish- ment could not be relied on. There were no pork and potatoes in the house, no well-filled grain chest, no groceries, not even a rill of pure water at hand. This was an unpromising state of things ; and he began to see that there would be no fun in living hi the woods, where the butcher and the baker woald not be likely to visit him. Various means of supplying the deficiency rag- gested themselves. There were rabbits, partridges and quails in the woods ; he might set a snare, and catch some of them. But he had no fire to cook them ; and Dr. Kane had not then demonstrated the healthy and appetizing qualities of raw meatt The orchards in the neighborhood were accessible ; but prudence seemed to raise an impassable barrier between him and them. While he was thus considering these matters, ne dropped asleep, and forgot all about his stomach. He was completely exhausted ; and no doubt the owls and bats were astonished as they listened to tte sonorous sounds that came from the deserted cabin. Long and deep was his sleep. The birds sang their matin songs on the tree tops ; but he heard them not. The aun rose, and penetrated the chinkl f2 TRY AGAIN; OR, THB TRIALS of the hnt ; but the little wanderer still slnmbered. The Rockville clock struck nine ; and he heard it not. I think it was Harry's grumbling stomach that finally waked him ; and it was no wonder that neg- lected organ grew impatient under the injury put npon it, for Harry had eaten little or nothiag sine® his dinner at the poorhouse on the preceding day^ Jumping out of the heap of straw in which ho had •'cuddled" all night scarcely without moving, he left the hut to reconnoiter his position. So far as security was concerned, it seemed to be a perfectly safe place. He could see nothing of the village of Eockville, though, beyond the open space, he saw the top of a chimney ; but it was at least half a mile dis- tant. Just then he did not feel much interested in the scenery and natural advantages of the position. His stomach was imperative, and he was faint from the want of food. There was nothing iu the woods to eat. Beri^ time was past ; and the pros- pect of supplying his wants was very discouraging. Leaving the cabin, he walked towards the distant chimney that peered above the tree tops. It belonged to a house that " was set on a hill, and could not be hid." After going a little way, he came to a cart path, which led towards the house. This he followed, descending a hill into a swamp, which was covered over with alders and birches. At the foot of the de- clivity he heard the rippling of waters; but the bushes concealed the stream from his view. He had descended nearly to the foot of the hill when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. His heart beat quick with apprehension, and he paused to listen. The step was soft and light ; it was not a man's, and his courage rose. Fa^ pat, pat, went AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 7J the steps on the leafy ground, so gently that his f eara were conquered ; for the person couldoe only a child, Suddemy a piercing shriek saluted his ears. Something had occurred to alarm the owner of the fairy feet which made the soft pat, pat, on the ground. Another shriek, and Harry bounded down the road like an antelope, heedless of the remonstrances of his grumbling stomach. " Mercy ! help I " shouted a voice, which Harry perceived was that of a little girl. In a moment more, he discovered the young lady running with all her might towards him, " Save me 1 " gasped the girl, " "What is the matter ?" But Harry had scarcely asked the question before he saw what had alarmed her. Under other circum- etances, he would have quailed himself ; for, as he epoke, a great black snake raised hia head two or three feet from the ground directly in front of him. He was an ugly-looking monster, and evidently in- tendec to attack him. All tha chivalry of Harry's nature was called up to meet the emergency of the occasion. Seizing a little stick that lay m the path, he struck sundry vigorous blows at the reptile, which, however, seemed only to madden, without disabling, him. Several times he elevated his head from the ground to strike at his assailant ; but the little Knight was an old hand with snakeS; and vigorously repelled his assaults. At last, he struck a bloiy which laid out his snakeship ; and the field was won, when Harry had smashed his head with, a, large rock. The reptile was about four feet and a hSl long, and as big round as a small boy's wrist. " There, miss, he won't hurt you now," said Hany, panting with his exertions. " Won't he ? Are you sure he is dead P " •4 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS "Very sure." The little girl Tentnred to approach the dead body of the snake, and satisfied herself that he could not harm her. " What an ngly snake I I was crossing the brook at the foot of the hill, when he sprang out from beneath my feet, and chased me. I never was bo frightened in all my life," said the little miss. " I don't wonder," replied Harry. " I am very much obliged to yon. What is your name ? " asked she, with childish simplicity. Harry did not like to answer that qnestion, and made no reply, " Do yon live in Eockville P " she continued. «* No ; I nsed to live in Eedfield." '* Where do yon live now ?*' " I don't live anywhere." The little girl wanted to laagh then, it seemed inch a fanny answer. " Don't you ? Who is your father f " "I have no father." " Who is your mother, then P " " I have no mother." " Poor boy I Then yon are an orphan," ** I suppose so. Bnt, little girl, 1 don't want you to tell any one that you have seen me. You won't — will you P" "Not father and mother P" asked the maiden, with a stare of ^tonishment. " If you please, don't. I am a poor boy, and have rnn away from a hard master." *< I won't tell anybody." *' And I am very hungry." " Poor boy I How lucky that I have lots of good* ies in my basket I " exclaimed abe, " Yon shall eat all yoo oan." AMD TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 7$ "1 haven't eat any thing since yesterday noon," replied Harry, aa he took a handful of donghnnta she handed him. *' Sit down on this rock, and do eat all you want. I never knew what it was to be very hungry." Harry seated himself, and proceeded to devour the food the sympathizing little maiden had given him, while she looked on with astonishment and delight as he voraciously consumed cake after cake, without seming to produce any effect npou the " abhorred vacuum." CHAPTEB IX. 0( WHICH HABRT BREAKFASTS OIT DOUGHNUTS, AND nKD3 THAT ANGELS DO KOX ALWAT8 HAVE WINOS. Haebt was very hungry,and the little girl thought he would never have eaten enough. Since he had told her he had run away, she was deeply interested in him, and had a hundred questions to ask ; hut she did not wish to bother him while he was eating, he was so deeply absorbed in the occupation. " What a blessed thing doughnuts are 1 " laughed she, as Harry leveled on the sixth cake. "I never thought much of them before, but I never shall see a doughnut again without thinking of you." Our hero was perfectly willing to believe that •doughnuts were a very beneficent institution ; but Just then he was too busily occupied to be sentimen- tal over them. ** What is your name, little gjrl ? " asked Harry, M he crammed half of the cake into his mouth. " I hare a great mind not to tell yon, beoanse joo 76 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS' vonldn't tell me what yonrs is," replied she n^ Lou Bee how it is with me. I hare mu away from — well, from somewhere." " And you are afraid I will tell ? I wont thoTigh. But, as you killed the snake, I shall tell yon. My name is Julia Bryant." " Mine is Harry West," replied he, unable to resist the little lady's argument. " You must not tell any one about me for three days, for then I shall be out of the way." " Where are yon going, Harry ?" "To Boston." " Are yon P They say that none but bad boys rnn away. I hope you are not a bad boy." And Jnlia glanced earnestly at the fugitive. "I don't think I am." " I don't think you are, either." It was a hearty indorsement, and Harry's heart warmed as she spoke. The little maiden was not more than nine or ten years old, but she seemed to have soma skill in reading faces ; at least, Harry thought she had. Whatever might be said of him- self, he was sure she was a good girl. In short, though Harry had never read a novel in his life, she was a little angel, even if she had no wings. He even went bo far as to believe she was a little angel, commissioned by that mysterious something, which wiser and more devout persons would have called a special providence, to relieve Kis wants with the con- tents of her basket, and gladden his heart by the sun- shine of her sweet smile. There is something in goodness which always finds its way to the face. It makes little girls look prettier than silks, and laces, and ribbons, and embroidery. Julia Bryant waa pretty, very pretty. Harry thought so ; but very AND TRIUMPHS OP HARRY WIST. Tf tfkeljr tt was the douglmatB and her Mad words which constituted her beauty. " I am pretty sure I am not a bad boy," Continued Harry ; " but! will tell you my story, and you shall judge for yourself." "You will tell mo all of it— won't you ? " "To be sure I will," replied Harry, a little tartly, for he misapprehended Julia's meaning. He thought she was afraid he would not tell his wrong acts ; whereas her deep interest in him ren- dered her anxious to have the whole, even to the smallest particnlars. " I shall be so delighted 1 I do BO love to hear • good story 1 " exclaimed Julia. " Yoa shall have it all ; but where were you go big ? It will take me a good while." " I was going to carry these doughnuts to Mrs Lane. She is a poor widow, who lives over on the back lane. She has five children, and has very hanS work to get along, I carry something to her every week." "Then you are a little an^el !" added Harry, who could understand and appreciate kindness to the poor. " Not exactly an angel, though Mrs. Lane says 1 am," replied Julia, with a blush. " Aunty Gray, over to the poorhouse, used to call everybody an angel that brought her anything good. So I am sure you must be one." " Never mind what I am now. I am dying to hear your story," interposed Julia, as she seated herself on another rock, near that occupied by Harry. " Here goes, then ; " and Harry proceeded with his tale, commencing back beyond his remembrance with the traditionary history which had been com- municated to him by Mr. Nason and the pampers. Wnen he came to the period of aothentio oisuny-, 78 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS or that which was stored np in his memory, he ^w eloqaent, and the narrative glowed with the hving fire of the hero. Jalia was quite as mitch interested as Desdemona in the story of the swarthy Moor. His " round, unvarnished tale," adorned only with the flowers of youthful simplicity, enchained her at- tention, and she " loved him for the dangers he had passed ; " loved him, not as Desdemona loved, but BS a child loves. She was sure now that he was not a bad boy ; that even a good boy might do such a thing as run away from cruel and exacting guardians. " What a strange story, Harry 1 How near you came to being drowned in the river I I wonder the man had not killed you \ And then they wanted to «end you to prison, for setting the bam afire I " ex- claimed Julia, when he had finished the story. " I came pretty near it ; that's a fact 1 " replied Barry, warmmg under the approbation of his partial tnditor. " And you killed the big dog ?" " I don't know : I hope I didn't." " But you didn t steal the horse ? " " I didn't mean to steal him." " Ko one could call that stealing. Bat what an you going to do next, Harrv P " " I am going to Boston. " What will yon do, when you get there f " " I can go to work." " Yon are not big enough to work much." " I can do a good deal." Epr some time longer they discussed Harry's story, and Julia regretted the necessity of leaving him to do her errand at Mrs. Lane's. She promised to see him when she returned, and Harry walked down to the brook to get a drink, while she continued on hev «»y. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 79 Our hero was deeply interested in the little girl. Like the "great gnns in the novels, he was sure Bhe was no ordinary character. He was fully satis- fied in relation to the providential nature of their meeting. She had been sent by that incomprehen- sible something to furnish him with food, and ho trembled when he thought what might have hap- pened if she had not come. "I can't be a very bad boy," thought he, " or she tponld not have liked me. Mr. Nason used to say he could tell an ugly horse by the looks of his eye ; and the schoolmaster last winter picked out all the bad boys at a glance. I can't be a very bad boy, or she would have found me out. I know I am not a bad boy. I feel right, and try to do right." Harry's imagination invested Julia Bryant with a thousand poetical excellences. That she felt an in- terest in him — one so good as she — was enough to confirm all the noble resolutions he had made, and give him strength to keep them ; and as he seated himself by the brook, he thought over his faults, and renewed his determination to uproot them from his character. His meeting with the " little angel," as he chose to regard her, was an oasis in the desert — a place where his moral nature could drink the pure waters of life. No one had ever before seemed to care much whether he was a good boy or a bad boy. The min- ister used now and then to give him a dry lecture ; but he did not seem to feel any real interest in him. He was a minister, and of course he must preach ; not that he cared whether a pauper boy was a saint or a sinner, but only to do the work he was hired to do, and earn his money. Julia did not preach. Her sweet face was the " beauty of holiness." She hoped he was not a ba(J 80 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS boy. She liked a good boy j and this was incentiva enough to incur a lifetime of trial and aelf-saorifice. Harry was an orphan. To have one feel an interest In his moral welfare, to haye one wish him to be a good boy, had not grown stale by long continuance. He had known no anxious mother, who wished him to be good, who would weep when he did wrong. The sympathy of the little angel touched a sensitiye chord in his heart and soul, and he felt that he should go forward in the great pilgrimage of life with a new desire to be true to himself, and true to her who had inspired his reverence. Even a child cannot be good without haying it felt by others. '^ She hoped he was not a bad boy," were the words of the little angel ; and before she returned from her errand of mercy, he had repeated them to himself a hundred times. They were a talisman to him, and he was sure he should never be a bad boy in the face of such a wish. He wandered about the woods for two or three hours, impatient for the return of the little rural god- dess who had taken possession of his thoughts, and filled his soul with admiration. She came at lastf and glad was the welcome which he gave her. "I have been thinking of yon ever since I left you," said Julia, as she approached the place where he had been waiting her return. Harry thought this was a remarkable coincidence. He had been thinking of her also. " I hope you didn't think of mo as a bad boy," replied he, giving expression to that which was up- permost in his mind. " I am sure I didn't. I am sure yon must be a good boy." " I am glad yon think so ; and that will help me be a good boy." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 8 1 " Will it ? " "I never had any one to care wiietlier I was good or bad. If you do, you will bo the first one." The little girl looked sad. She had a father and mother who loved her, and prayed for her every day. It seemed hard that poor Harry should have no mother to love him as her mother loved her ; to watch over him day and night, to take care tjl him when he was sick, and, above all, to teach him to be good. She pitied the lonely orphan, and would gladly have taken him to her happy home, and shared with him all she had, even the love of her mother. ' ' Poor boy ! " she sighed. ' ' But I have been thinking of something," she added, in more sprightly tones. ''What, Julia?" " If you would only let me tell my father that you are here " "Not for the world ! " cried Harry. " 0, I\won't say a word, unless you give me leave; but my father is rich. He owns a great factory and a great farm. He has lots of men to work for him; and my father is a very good man, too. People will do as he wants them to do, and if you will let me ten him your story, he wiU go over to Eedfield and make them let you stay at our house. You shall be imy brother then, and we can do lots of things to- 'gether. Do let me tell him." "I don't think it would be safe. I know Squire Walker wouldn't let me go to any place where they would use me well." < " What a horrid man he must be ! " " No; I think I will go on to Boston." " You will have a very hard time of it." " No matter for that." " They may eateh you." 6 ^^^ 82 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS " If they do, I shall try again." ** If they do catch yon, will you let my father know It P He will be your friend, for my friends are kli friends." "I will. I should be very glad to have each a friend." " There is our dinner bell I " said Julia, as Harry heard the distant sound. " I must go home. How I wish you were going with me I " " I wish I was. I may never see you again," add- ed Harry, sadly. " 0, you must see me again I When yon get big, you must come to Rockville." " You will not wish to see the little poorhouse boy, then." " w"on't I ? I shall always be glad to see the boy that killed that snake ! But I shall come up after dinner, and bring you something to eat. Do let me tell mother you are here." " I would rather you wouldn't." " Suppose she asks me what I am going to do with the dinner I shall bring you ! I can't tell a lie." " Don't bring any, then. I would rather not have any dinner than have you tell a lie." Harry would not always have been so nice about a lie ; but for the little angel to tell a falsehood, why, it seemed like mud on a white counterpane. " 1 won't tell a lie, but you shall have your dinner. 1 suppose 1 must go now." Harry watched the retreating form of his kind friend, till she disappeared beyond the curve of the path, and his blessing went with last. AKD TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WB8T. OHAPTES X. tar WHICH HABET PAEE8 SUMPTTJOCSLT, AlTD TAJEM LSATB OF THE LITTLB AITOEL. "When Harry could no longer see the little angel, he fixed his eyes upon the ground, and continued to think of her. It is not every day that a pauper hojr sees an angel, or even one whom the enthusiasm of the imagination invests with angelic purity and an- gelio afEections. In the records of individual experience, as well as in the history of the world, there are certain points of time which are rendered memorable by important events. By referring to a chronological table, the young reader will see the great events which have marked the progress of civilized nations from the lowest depths of barbarism up to their present en- lightened state. Every individual, if heliad the re- quisite wisdom, could make up a list of epochs in his own experience. Perhaps he would attach too little importance to some things, too much to others ; for we cannot always clearly perceive the influences which assist in forming the character. Some trivial event, far back in the past, which inspired him with a new reverence for truth and goodness, maybe for- gotten. The memory may not now cherish the look, the smile of approbation, which strengthened the heart, when it was struggling against the foe without or the foe within : but its influence was none the less potent. " It is the last pound which breaks the camel's back ; " and that look, that Bmile« maj bave 84 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS dosed tlie door of the heart against a whole le^on t/t evil spirits, and thas turned a life of woe and bitter- ness into a life of sunshine and happiness. There are hundreds of epochs in the experience of every person, boy or man — events which raised him np or let him down in the scale of moral existence. Harry West had now reached one of these epochs iu his pilgrimage.^ _ ' To meet a little girl in the woods, to kill a black enake, and thus relieve her from a terrible fright, to say the least, was not a great event, as events are reckoned in the world ; yet it was destined to exert a powerful influence upon his future career. It was not the magnitude of the deed performed, or the chivalrous spirit which called it forth, that made this a memorable event to Harry ; it was the angel visit — the kindling influence of a pure heart that passed from her to him. But I suppose the impatient reader will not thank me for moralizing over two whole pages, and I leave the further applicatioa ol the moral to the discretion of my young friends, Harry felt etrangely— more strangely than he had ever felt before. As he walked back to the cabin, everything seemed to have assumed a new appearance. Somehow the trees did not look as they used to look. He saw through a different medium. Hia being seemed to have undergone a change. Ha could not account for it ; perhaps he did not try. He entered the cabin ; and, without dropping the train of thought which Julia's presence suggested, he busied himself in making the place more comfortable. He shook up the straw, and made his bed, stuffed dried grass into the chinks and crannies in the roof, fastened the door up with eotne birch withes, and replaced some of the stones of the chimney which had fallen down. This wcnrkoocapied him for uearlf AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 85 twQ hours, though, so busy were his thoughts, they eeemed not more than half an hour. He had scarcely finished making these necessary repairs before he heard the light step of her who fed him, as Elijah was fed by the ravens, for it seemed like a providential supply. She saw him at the dooi of the cabin ; and she no longer dallied with a walk, but ran with all her might. "0 Harry, I am so glad I " she cried, out of breath, as she handed him a little basket, whose contents were carefully covered with a piece of brown paper. "Glad of what, Julia?" asked Harry, smiling- from sympathy with her. " I have heard all about it | and I am so glad you are a good boy ! " exclaimed she, panting like a pretty fawn which had gamboled its breath away. "About what?" " Father has seen and talked with—who was he?" Harry laughed. How could he tell whom her father had seen and talked with ? He was not a magician. *' The man that owned the dog, and the horse, and the boat." " O I George L^man," replied Harry, now deeply interested in the little maiden's story. " Where did he see him ? " "Over at the store. But I' have brought yon gome dinner ; and while you are eating it, I will tell you all about it. Come, there is a nice big rOok— that shall be your table.** Julia, full of excitement, seized the basket, and pan to the rock, a little way from the cabin. Pulling ofE half a dozen great oak leaves from a shrub, she placed them on the rock. " Here is a piece of meat, Hariy, on thia plate," 86 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS she continued, putting it on an oak leaf ; " here is a piece of pie ; here is some bread and butter ; here is cheese ; and here is a piece of cold apple pudding. There I I forgot the sauce," '* Never mind the sauce," said Harry ; and he could hardly keep from bursting into tears, as he saw how good the little angel was. It seemed as though she could not have been mo.re an angel, if she had had a pair of wings. The ra- diant face was there ; the pure and loving heart waa there ; all was there but the wings, and he could easily imagine them. And what a dinner 1 Eoast beef, pudding, pie ! He was not much accustomed to such luxuries ; but just then he did not appreciate the sumptuousness of the feast, for it was eclipsed by the higher consid- eration of the devotion of the giver. " Come, eat, Harry I I am so glad I " added Julia. " So am I. If you feed me as high as this, I shall want to stay here a good while." " I hope you will." " Only to-day ; to-morrow I must be moving to- wards Boston." " I was hoping you would stay here a good long while. I shall be so pleased to bring you your break, fast, and dinner, and supper every day I ' " Your father would not like it." "I don't know why he shouldn't. You are not very hungry ; you don't eat as you did this morning." " I ate so much then. Tell me, now, what youl father said, Julia." " He saw George Leman ; and he told him how you tied his horse to the fence, and how careful you were to put the blanket on him, so that he shouldn't catch cold after his hard run. That was very kind AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 87 of yoo, Harry, when yon knew they were after jon. father said almost any one would nave run the &ors8 till he dropped down. That one thing showed that you were not a bad boy." " I wouldn't have injured George Leman for any thing," added Harry. •* He's a good fellow, and never did me any harm." " He said when he found his horse, ho was so glad he wouldn't have chased you any farther for all the world. He told father what Mr. Ifason said about yon — that you were a good boy, had good feelings, and were willing to work. He didn't blame you for not wanting to go to Jacob Wire's — wasn't that the man ? " " Yes." " And he didn't blame you for running away. Nobody believes that you set the bam afire ; and, Harry, they have caught the other boy — Ben Smart, wasn^t it ? " " Yes, that was his name." " They caught him in the woods, over the other «ide of the river." *' Did you find out whether the dog was killed P" asked Harry. •* Mr. Leman said he thought he would get over it ; and he has got his boa I; again." " I am glad of that ; and if anybody ever catches me with such a fellow as Ben Smart again, they'll know it." " You can't think how I wanted to tell father where you were, when he spoke so well of you. He even said he hoped yon would get off, and that yoo must be in the woods around heie somewhere. xoB will let me tell him now — ^won't you, Harry P* " I think not." "Whyiiot,Hany P* 88 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS " He may hope I will get off, and still not be yfi: ing to help me off." Julia looked very much disappointed; for she hft cl(^oend«d upon surprising her lather with the ste* f of the snake, and the little fugitivs in the woods. " He will be very good to you," pleaded she. "I dare say he would; but he may think it his duty to send me back to Redfield ; and Squire Walk- er would certviinly make me go to Jacob Wire's." " But you won't go yet." "To-morrow, Julia." " I'm afraid you will never get to Boston." " 0, yes, I shall. I don't think it is safe for me to st^ here much longer." ' ' Why not ? llardly any one ever goes through the woods here at this time of year but myself. " "Didn't your mother want to know What you were going to do with the dinner you brought me ? " " No, I went to the store room, and got it. She didn't see me; but I don't like to do anything un- known to her. " " You mustn't do it again." " You must have something to eat." "You have brought enough to last me while 1 stop here. To-morrow morning I must start; so I suppose I shall not see yott again. But I ^all never forget you," said Harry, looking as sad as he felt. ' ' No, you mustn't go off without any breakfast. Promise me you will not go till I have brought you some." Harrv assured Julia he had enough, and tried ta persuade her not to bring him any more food; but Julia was resolute, and he was obliged to promise. Havinpr finished his dinner, she gathered up the rem- nants of the feast, and put them in. the cabin for hia supper. She was afraid to remain any longer, lest Am) TRIUMPHS OP HARRY WBST 89 she might ba missed at home ; and Hany jmllantly escorted her beyond the brook on her return home. He bnsied himself during the greater part of the afternoon in gathering dry grass and dead leaves for the improvement of his bed in the cabin. About an hour before sundown, he waa surprised to receive another visit from Julia Bryant. She had her little basket in one hand, and in the other she carried a little package. " I didn't expect to see yon again," said Harry, as she approached. " I don't know as yon will like what I havedonej" she began, timidly ; " but I did it for the best," " I shall like anything that yon have done," answered Harry, promptly, "even if you shonld seod me baok to Redfleld." " I wouldn't do such a mean thing as that ; bnt I have told somebody that you are here." " Have yon ? " asked Harry, not a little alarmed. "You will forgive me if I have done wrong- wont you ?" Harry looked at her. He mistook her anxions appearance for sorrow at what she had done. He could not give her pain ; so he told her that, what- ever she had done, she waa f orgivea. " Bnt whom have you told.' " John Lane." "Who is he?" *' Mrs. Lane's oldest son. He drives the baggage wagon that goes to Boston every week. He prom- ised not to lisp a word to a single sonl, and that he would be your friend for my sake." « Why did you tell him c" " Well, you see, I was afraid you would never get to Boston ; and I thonght what a nice thing it would be if yon conld onlj ride all the way there with Johit go TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS Lane. John likes me because I carry things to hit mother, and 1 am sure he won't tell." " How good you are, Julia ! " exclaimed Harry. •* 1 may forget every body else in the world ; but I shall never forget you." A tear moistened his eye, as he uttered his enthu- «iastio declaration. " The worst of it is, John starts at two o'clock- right in the middle of the night." " So much the better," replied Harry, wiping away the tear. " You will take the wagon on the turnpike, where the cart path comes oat. But yoa won't wake np." "Yes, I shall." " I am sorry to have you go ; for I like yoa, Harry. You will be a very good boy, when you get, to Boston ; for they eay the city is a wicked place." " I will try." " There are a great many temptations there, people Bay." "I shall try to be as good as yoa are," replied Harry, who could imagine nothing better. " If I fail once, I shall try again." " Here, Harry, I have brought yon a good book-^ the best of all books. I have written your name and mine in it ; and I hope you will keep it and read it as long as you live. It is the Bible." Harry took the package, and thanked her for it. " I never read the Bible much j but 1 shall read this for your sake." " No, Harry ; read it for your own sake." "I will, Julia." " Ho iv I shall long to hear from you I John Lane goes to Boston every week. Won't you write me a jew lines, now and then, to let me know how you prosper, and whether yoa are good or not ? " AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 9I "Iwill. I can't write. much; but I suppose I can " " Never mind how you write it, if I can only read It* The sun had gone down, and the dark shadows of night were gathering over the forest when they parted, but a short distance from Mr. Bryant's house. With the basket which contained provisions for hia joarney and the Bible in his hand, he returned to the hut, to get what sleep he might before the wagon started. CHAPTER XL tS WHICH HAEET BEACHES THE CITY, AND THOUaH OFTEK DISAPPOINTED, TBIES AGAIIT. Haeet entered the cabin, and stretched himself on his bed of straw and leaves ; but the fear that he should not wake in season to take the wagon at the appointed place, would scarcely permit him to close his eyes. He had not yet made up for the sleep he had lost ; and Nature, not sharing his misgiving, at last closed and sealed his eyelids. It would be presumptuous for me to attempt to inform the reader what Harry dreamed about on that eventful night ; but I can guess that it was about angels, about bright faces and sweet smiles, and that they were very pleasant dreams. At any rate, he slept very soundly, as tired boys are apt to sleep, even when they are anxious about getting up eanf in the morning. 92 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS He woke, at last, with a start ; for with hia first consciousness came the remembrance of the early appointment. He sprang from his bed, and threw down the door of the cabin. It was still dark ; the stars twinkled above, the owls soreattied, and the frogs sang merrily aronnd him. He had no means of ascertaining the time of night. It might be twelve ; it might be four ; and his nnoertainty on this point filled him with anxiety. Better too early than too late ; and grasping the basbet and the Bible, which were to be the companions of his journey, he hastened down the cart path to the turnpike. There was no sound of approaching wheels to cheer him, and the clock in the meeting house at Eockville obstinately refused to strike. He reached the designated place ; there was no wagon there. Perhaps he was too late. The thought filled him with chagrin ; and he was reading himself a very severe lesson for having permitted himself to sleep at all, when the church clock graciously condescended to r-elieve hia anxiety by striking the hour. " One," said he, almost breathless with interest. " Two," he repeated, loud enough to be heard, if there had been any one to hear him. " Three j " and he held his breath, waiting for more. " No more ! " he added, with disappointment and chagrin, when it was certain that the clock did not mean to strike another stroke. " I have lost my chance. What a fool I have been ! Miss Julia will think that I am a smart fellow, when she finds that her efforts to get me off have been wasted. Why did I go to sleep ? I might have known that I ehould not wake ; " and he stamped his foot upon the ground with impatience. He had been caught napping, and had loet the AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. 93 Wagon. He was never so mortified in hia life. Ona who was so careless did not deserve to succeed» " One thing is clear — it is no use to cry for"6f)ilt milk," muttered he, as he jumped over the fence into the road. " I have been stupid, but try again.'* Unfortunately, there was no chance to try again. Like thousands of blessed opportunities, it had passed by, never to return. He had come at the eleventh hour, and the door was closed against him. With the wagon it had been *' now or never." Harry got over his impatience, and resolved that Julia should not come to the cabin, the next morn- ing, to find he had slept when the bridegroom came. He had a pair of legs, and there was the road. It was no use to "wait for the wagon;" legs were made before wagon wheels ; and he started on the long and weary pilgrimage. He had not advanced ten paces before J)leasant sounds reached his ears. He stopped short, and listened. A wagon was certainly approaching, and his heart leaped high with hope. Was it possible that John Lane had not yet gone ? Eetracing his steps, he got over the fence at the place where John was to take him. Perhaps it was not he, after all. He had no right to suppose it was ; but he deter- mined to wait till the wagon had passed. The rumbling noise grew more distinct. It was a heavy wagon, heavily loaded, and approached very slowly ; but at last it reached the spot where the impatient boy was waiting, " "Whoa ! " said the driver | and theliorses stopped. Harry's heart bounded with joy. Some lucky accident had detained the team, and he had rCgainea bis opportunity. " Harry West I " said he «li the wagon. 94 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS "John Lane I" replied Harry, as he leaped over the fence. " You are on hand," added John Lane. *' I am ; but I was sure you had gone. Ifc is aftei three o'clock." " I know it. I don't generally got off much before this time," answered John. " Climb up here, and let us be moving on." It was a large wagon, with a sail-cloth cover — one of those regular baggage wagons which railroads have almost driven out of existence in Massachusetts. It was drawn by four horses, harnessed two abreast, and had a high "box" in front for the driver. Harry nimbly climbed upon the box, and took his seat by the side of Johh Lane — though that worthy told him he had better crawl under the cover, where he would find plenty of room to finish his nap on a bale of goods. " I thought likely I should have to go up to the cabin and wake you. Julia told me I must, if yon were not on the spot." " I am glad I have saved you that trouble ; but Julia said you would start at two o'clock," "Well, 1 get off by two or three o'clock. I don't carry the mail, so I ain't so particular. What do you mean to do when you get to Boston ? " " I mean to go to work. " What at ? " " Anything I can find." John Lane questioned the little wanderer, and drew from him all the incidents of his past history. He seemed to feel an interest in the fortunes of his companion, and gave him much good advice on prac- tical matters, including an insight into life in the suppose Squire Walker would give me fits, if % AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. gj he knew I carried you off. He was over to Eock« ville yesterday looking for yon." " He won't find me." " I hope not, my boy ; though I don't know as I should haye meddled in the matter, if Julia hadn't teased me. I couldn't resist her. She is the best little girl in the world ; and you are a lucky fellow to have such a friend." "I am ; she is an angel ;" and when Harry began to think of Julia, he could not think of anything else, and the couTersation was suspended. It was a long while before either of them spoke again, and then John advised Harry to crawl into the wagon, and lie down on the load. Notwithslsand- ing his agreeable thoughts, our hero yawned now and then, and concluded to adopt the suggestion of the driver. He found a very comfortable bed on the bales, softened by heaps of mattings, which were to be used in packing the miscellaneous articles of the return freight. John Lane took things very easily; and as the horses jogged slowly along, he relieved the monotony of the journey by singing sundry old-f ashionedpsalm- tunes, which had not then gone out of use. He waa a good singer ; and Harry was so pleased with the music, and so unaccustomed to the heavy jolt of the wagon, that he could not go to sleep at once. " While shepherds watched their flocks by night. All seated on the ground, The angel of the Lord came down. And glory shone around." Again and again John's full and sonorous voice rollecl out these familiar lines, till Harry was fairly lulled to sleep by the harmonious measures. The angel of the Lord bad coma down for the fortieth time, after 96 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS the manner of the ancient psalmody, and far th* fortieth time Harry had thought of Ms angel, when he dropped off to dream of the "glory that shone around." Harry slept soundly after he got a little used to the rough motion of the wagon, and it was sunrise before he woke. " Well, Harry, how do you feel now ? " asked John, as he emerged from his lodging apartment, <' Better ; I feel as bright as a new pin. Where are we ?" " We have come about twelve miles. Pretty soon we shall stop to bait the team and get some break- " I have got some breakfast in my basket. Julia gave me enough to last a week. I shan^t starve^ at Bny rate." " No one would ever' be hungry in this world, if everybody were like Julia. But you shall breakfast with me at the tavern." «< It won't be safe— will it ? " *' 0, yes ; nobody will know y©u here." " Well, I have got some money to pay for any» thing I have." " Keep your money, Harry ; you will want it all when you get to Boston." After going a few miles farther, they stopped at a tavern, where the horses were fed, and Harry ate such a breakfast as pauper never ate before. John would not let him pay for it, declaring that Julia's friends were his friends. The remaining portion of the journey was effected without any incident worthy of narrating, and they reached the city about noon. Of course the first eight of Boston astonished Harry. His conceptions of a oitj were entirely at fault ; and though it was AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 9^ not a very large city twenty-five years ago, it far ex- ceeded his expectations. Harry had a mission before him and he did not permit his cnriosity to interfere with that. John drove down town to deliver his load ; and Harry went with him, improving every opportunity to ob- tain work. When the wagon stopped, he went boldly into the stores in the vicinity to inquire if they ** wanted to hire a hand." Now, Harry was not exactly in a condition to pro« duce a very favorable impression upon those to whom he applied for work. His clothes were never very genteel, nor very artistically cut and made ; and they were threadbare, and patched at the knees and el- bows. A patch is no disgrace to a man or boy, it is true ; but if a little mere care had been taken to adapt the color and kind of fabric in Harry's patches to the original garment, his general appearance would undoubtedly have been much improved. Whether these patches real]|r affected his ultimate success I cannot say — only that they were an inconvenience at the outset. It was late in the afternoon before John Lane had unloaded his merchandise and picked up his return freight. Thus far Harry had been unsuccessful ; no one wanted a boy ; or if they did, they did not want such a boy as Harry appeared to be. His country garb, with the five broad patches, seemed to interfere with the working out of his manifest destiny. Yet he was not disheartened. Spruce clerks and ill-man- nered boys laughed at him ; but he did net despond. " Try again," exclaimed he, as often as he was told that his services were not required. When the wagon reached Washington Street, Harry wanted to walk, for the better prosecution of bis objeet ! and John gave him direotiona so that he f 98 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS could find Major Phillips's stable, where he intended to put up for the night. Harry trotted along among the gay and genteel people that thronged the sidewalk ; but he was so earnest about his mission, that he could not stop to look at their fine clothes, nor even at the pictures, the gewgaws, and gimcracks that tempted him from the windows. " * Boy wanted ' " Harry read on a paper in the window of a jeweler's shop, " Now's my time ; " and, without pausing to consider the chances that were against him, he entered the store. " You want a boy — don't you ? " asked he of a young man behind the counter. " We do," replied the person addressed, looking at the applicant with a broad grin on his face. •' I should like to hire out," continued Harry, with an earnestness that would have secured the attention of any man but an idiot. " Do you ? Your name is Joseph — isn't it ? " " No, sir ; my name is Harry west." " 0, I thought it was Joseph. The Book says he had a coat of many colors, though I believe it don't say anything about the trousers, sneered the shop- keeper. " Never mind the coat or the trousers. If you want to hire a boy, I will do the best I can for you," replied Harry, willing to appreciate the joke of the other, if he could get a place. *' You won't answer for us ; you come from the country." "I did." " What did you come to Boston for P" *' After work." ** You had better go back, and let yonrself to some fwrner. Yon will make a good scarecrow to hang AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. gg ip in the field. No crow would ever come near yon, fll -warrant." Harry's blood boiled with indignation at this gra- tuitous insult. His cheeks reddened, and he looked about him for the means of inflicting summary ven- geance upon the poltroon who so wantonly trifled with his glowing aspirations. " More on, boy ; we don't want you," added the man. " You are a " I will not write what Harry said. It was a yulgar epithet, coupled with a monstrous oath for so small a boy to utter. The shopkeeper sprang out from his counter ; but Harry retreated, and escaped him, though not till he had repeated the vulgar and pro- fane expression. But he was sorry for what he had said before he had gone ten paces. " What would the little angel say, if she had heard that ? " Harry nsked himself. " 'Twon't do ; I must try again." CHAPTER XII. IN ■WHICH HAKKT SUDDEKLT GETS RICH, AKD HAS A CONVEKSATION WITH ANOTHER HAEKT, By the time he reached the stable, Harry would have given almost anything to have recalled the hasty expressions he had used. He had acquired the low and vulgar habit of using profane language at the poorhouse. He was conscious that it was not only wicked to do so, but that it was very ofEeusire to lOO TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS many persons who did not make mnch pretension to piety, or even morality ; and, in summing up hia faults in the woods, he had included this habit as one of the worst. She hoped he was a good boy— Julia Byrant, the little angel, hoped so. Her blood would have frozen in her veins if she had listened to the irreverent words he had uttered in the shop. He had broken his resolution, broken his promise to the little angel, on the first day he had been in the city. It was » bad beginning ; but instead of permitting this first failure to do right to discourage him, he determined to persevere — to try again. A good life, a lofty character, with all the trials and sacrifices which it demands, is worth working for ; and those who mean to grow better than they are will often be obliged to " try again." The spirit may be willing to do well, but the flesh is weak, and we are all exposed to temptation. We may make our good resolutions — and it is very easy to make them ; but when we fail to keep them — it is sometimes very hard to keep them — we must not be discour- aged, but do as Harry did — try again'. The strong Spirit may conquer the weak Flesh. "Well, Harry, how did you make out?" asked John Lane, when Harry joined him at the table. " I didn't make out all. !N"obody seems to want a boy like me." "0, well, you will find a place. Don't be di&> couraged. " " I am not. To-morrow I shall try again." '' I don't know what I shall do with you to-night. Every bed in the tavern up the street, where I stop,, is full. I shall sleep with another teamster." " Never mind me ; I can sleep in the wagon, f have slept in worse places than that." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. lOI " I will fix a place for yon, then." After they had prepared his bed, Harry drew out his basket, aud proceeded to eat his supper. He then took a walk down Washington Street with John, Went to an aostion, and otherwise amused himself till after nine o'clock, when he returned to the stable. After John had left him, as he was walking towards the wagon, with the intention of retiring for the night, his foot struck against something which attracted his attention. He kicked it once or twice, to determine what it was, and then picked it np. "By gracious!" he exclaimed; "it is a pocket* book. My fortune is made ;" and without stopping to consider the matter any further, he scrambled into the wagon. His heart jumped with excitement, for his vivii imagination had already led him to the conclusion that it was stuffed full of money. It might contain a hundred dollars, perhaps five hundred ; and these sums were about as far as his ideas could reach. He could buy a suit of new clothes, a new cap, new shoes, and be as spruce as any of the boys he had seen about the city. Then he could go to a boarding house, and live like a prince, till he could get a place that suited him ; for Harry, however rich he might be, did not think of living without labor of some kind. He could dress himself up in fine broadcloth, present himself at the jeweller's shop where they wanted a boy, and then see whether he would make a good scarecrow. Then his thoughts reverted to the cabin, where he had slept two nights and, of course, to the little angel, who had supplied the commissary department 102 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS during his sojourn in the woods. He could dress himself up with the money in the pocket-book, and after a while, when he got a place, take the stage foi Rockville. Wouldn't she be astonished to see him then, in fine broadcloth ! Wouldn't she walk with him over to the spot where he had killed the black snake ! Wouldn't she be proud to tell her father that this was the boy she had fed in the woods ! What would she say to him ? He had promised to write to her when he got settled, and tell her how he got along, and whether he was good or not. What should he say ? How glad she would be to hear that he was getting along so finelj ! " Stop ! " said he to himself. " What have I been thinking about ? This pocket-book isn't mine." I am sorry to say it, but Harry really felt sad when the thought occurred to him. He had been building very pretty air castles on this money, and this reflec- tion suddenly tumbled them all down — new clothes, new cap, boarding-house, visit to Eockville — all iu a heap. " But I found it," Harry reasoned with himself. Something within him spoke out, saying, — "You stole it, Harry." "ISTo, I didn't; I found it." •' If you don't return it to the owner, you will be a thief,'' continued the voice within. " Nobody will know that I found it. I dare say the owner does not want it half so much as I do." "No matter for that, Harry ; if you keep it you will be a thief." He could not compromise with that voice within. It was the real Harry, within the other Harry, that SDoke, and" he was a very obstinate fellow, positively refusing to let him keep the pocket-book, at any rate. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. IO3 " What am I about ? She hoped I would be a good boy, and the evil one is catching me as fast as ha can," resumed Harry. " Be a good boy," added the other Harry. " I mean to be, if I can.' " The little angel will be very sad when she finds out that you are a thief." " I don't mean to be a thief. But this pocket-book will make me rich. She never will know anything about it." "If she does not, there is One above who will know, and his angels will frown upon you, and stamp your crime upon your face. Then you will go about like Cain, with a mark upon you." "Pooh! "said the outer Harry, who was sorely tempted by the treasure within his grasp. "You will not dare to look the little angel in the face, if you steal this money. She will know you are not good, then. Honest folks always hold their heads up, and are never ashamed to face any person." " I won't keep it !" replied the struggling, tempted Flesh. " Why did I think of such a thing ?" He felt strong then, for the Spirit had triumphed over the Flesh. The foe within had been beaten back, at least for the moment ; and as he laid his head upon the old coat that was to serve him for a pillow, he thought of Julia Bryant. He thought he saw her sweet face, and there was an angelic smile upon it. My young readers will remember, after Jesus had been tempted, and said, "Get thee behind me, Satan," that, " behold, angels came and ministered unto him." They came and ministered to Harry after he had cast out the evil thought ; they come and minister to all who resist temptation. They come 104 1"RY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS in the heart, and minister with the healing balm of an approving conscience. Placing the pocket-book under his head, with the intention of finding the owner in the morning, he went to sleep. The fatigue and excitement of the day softened his pillow, and not once did he open his eyes till the toils of another day had commenced aronnd him. I question whether he would have slept so soundly if he had decided to keep the pocket-book. But the tempter was not banished. He had only heen conquered for the moment — subdued only to attack him again. The first thought of the treasure, in the morning, was to covet it. Again he allowed his fancy to picture the comforts and the luxuries which it would purchase. "No one will know it," he added. "Why shouldn't I keep it ? " " God will know it ; you will know it yourself," said the other Harry, more faithful and conscientious than the outside Harry, who, it must be confessed, was sometimes disposed to be the " Old Harry." " No use of being too good. I will keep it." " /S/te hoped you would be a good boy," added the monitor within. "I will — that is, when I can afford it." "■ Be good now, or you never will." One hundred dollars ! — perhaps five hundred ! It was a fortune. The temptation was very great. But the little angel — the act would forever banish him from her presence. He would never dare to look at her again, or even to write the letter he had prom- ised. " Be true to yourself, Harry. Good first, and rich next." " I will," exclaimed Harry, in an earnest whisper ; and again the tempter was cast out. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. IO5 Once more the fine air castles began to pile them- selves up before him, standing on the coveted treas« nre ; but he resolutely pitched them down, and ban- ished them from his mind, " Where did you lose it ? " said a voice near the wagon. " I don't know. I didn't miss it till this morning ■■. and I have been to every place where I was lasi night ; so I think I must have lost it here, when i put my horse up/' replied another. The first speaker was one of the ostlers ; and the moment Harry heard the other voice he started aa though a rattlesnake had rattled in his path. Was it possible ? As the speaker proceeded, he was satis- fied beyond the possibility of a doubt that the voice belonged to Squire Walker. " Was there much money in it ? " asked the ostler. "About a hundred and fifty dollars; and there were notes and other papers of great value," replied Squire Walker. " Well, I haven't seen or heard anything about it." " I remember taking it out of my great-coat pocket, and putting it into a pocket inside of my vest, when I got out of the wagon." " I don't think you lost it here. Some of us would have found it, if yon had." Here was a dilemma for Harry. He had deter- mined to restore the pocket-book ; but he could not do so without exposing himself. Besides, if there had been any temptation to keep the treasure before, it was ten times as great now tliat he knew it be- longed to his enemy. It would be no sin to keep it from Squire Walker. " It would be stealing," said the voice within. " But if I give it to him, he will carry me back to Jacob Wire's. I'll be— I'll be hanged if I do." I06 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS " She hopes you will be a good boy." There was no resisting this appeal ; and again the demon was put down, and the triumph added another laurel to the moral crown of the little hero. " It will be a dear journey to me," continued Squire Walker. " I was looking all day yesterday after a boy that ran away from the poorhouse, and came to the city for him. I had better let him go." "Did yon find him?" " No. I brought that money down to put in the bank. It is gone, I suppose. Confound the boy ! " Harry waited no longer ; but while his heart beat like the machinery in the great factory at Eockville, he tumbled out of his nest, and slid down the bale of goods to the pavement. " Ah, Master Harry West I you are here — are you ? " exclaimed Squire Walker, springing forward to catch him. Harry dodged, and kept out of his reach. " Catch him I " shouted the squire to the ostler. " Wait a minute, Squire Walker," said Harry, " I won't go back to Jacob Wire's, anyhow. Just hear what I have got to say ; and then, if you want to take me, you may, if you can." It was evident, even to the squire, that Harry had Bomething of importance to say ; and he involuntarily paused to hear it. "I have found your pocket-book, squire, and " " Give it to me, and I won't touch you," cried tha overseer, eagerly. It was clear that the loss of his pocket-book had produced a salutary impression on the squire's mind. He loved money, and the punishment was more than he could bear. "I was walking along here, last night, when I itruck my foot against something. I picked it up. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. I07 and found it was a pocket-book. I haven't opened it. Here it is ;" and Hany handed him his lost treasure. " By gracious I " exclaimed he, after he had assured himself that the contents of the pocket-book had not been disturbed. " That is more than ever I expected of you, Master Harry West." "I mean to be honest," replied Harry, proudly. " Perhaps you do. I told you, Harry, I wouldn t touch you ; and I won't," continued the squire,. " You may go." The overseer was amazed. He had come to Boston with the intention of catching Harry, cost what it might, — he meant to charge the expense to the town ; but the recovery of his money had warmed his heart, and banished the malice he cherished towards the boy. Squire Walker volunteered some excellent advice for the guidance of the little pilgrim, who, he face- tiously observed, had now no one to look after hia manners and morals — manners first, and morals afterwards. He must be very careful and prudent, and he wished him well. Harry, however, took this wholesome counsel as from whom it came, and was not very deeply impressed by it. John Lane came to the stable soon after, and con- gratulated our hero upon the termination of the persecution from Kedfield, and, when his horses were hitched on, bade him good-by, with many hearty wishes for his fature success. Io8 TRY AGAIN ; OR. THE TRIALS CHAPTER Xlli. IN WHICH HAEET BECOMES A STABLE BOY. k iSTt HEAES BAD NEWS EEOM EOCKVILLE. Haery was exceedingly rejoiced at the remarkable turn his affairs had taken. It is true, he had lost the treasure upon which his fancy had built so many fine castles ; but he did not regret the loss, since it had purchased his exemption from the Redfleld per- secution. He had conquered his enemy — which waa a great victory — by being honest and upright ; and he had conquered himself — which was a greater victory — by listening to the voice within him. He had resisted temptation, and the victory made him strong. Our hero had won a triumph, but the battlefield was still spread out before him. There were thou- sands of enemies lurking in his path, ready to fall upon and despoil him of his priceless treasure — hia integrity. " She hoped he would be a good boy." He had done his duty — he had been true in the face of temptation. He wanted to write to Julia then, and tell her of his triumph — that, when tempted, he had thought of her, and won the victory. The world was before him ; it had no place for idlers, and he must get work. The contents of the basket were not yet exhausted, and he took it to a retired corner to eat his breakfast. While he was thus engaged, Joe Plint, the ostler, happened to see him. "That is cold comfoH," said he. "Whydou't AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 10^ you go to the tayern, and have your breakfast like a gentleman ? " *' I can't afford it," replied Harry. " Can't afford it P How much did the man thai owned the pocket-book give you ? " "Nothing." " Nothing I I'm blamed if he ain't a mean one I" exclaimed Joe, heartily. " I don't wonder you rno away." " I didn't want anything. I was too glad to get clear of him to think of anything else."^ '* Next time he loses his pocket-book, I hope he won't find it." And with this charitable observation, Joe resumed his labors. Harry finished his meal, washed it down with a draught of cold water at the pump, and was ready for business again. Unfortunately, there was no business ready for him. All day long he wan- dered about the streets in search of employment ; bat people did not appreciate his value. No one would hire him or have anything to do with him. The five patches on his clothes, he soon discovered, rendered it useless for him to apply at the stores. He was not in a condition to be tolerated about one of these ; and he turned his attention to the market, the stables, and the teaming establishments, yet with no better success. It was in vain that he tried again ; and at night, weary and dispirited, he re- turned to Major Phillips's stable. His commissariat was not yet exhausted ; and he made a hearty supper from the basket. It became an interesting question for him to consider how he should pass the night. He could not afford to pay one of his quarters for a night's lodging at the tavern opposite. There was the stable, however, if he could get permission to sleep there- no TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS " May I sleep in the hayloft, Joe," he asked, m the ostler passed him. " Major Phillips don't allow xnj one to sleep in the hayloft ; but perhaps he will let yon sleep there. He was asking about yo" t,o-day." " How should he know anything about me ? " Baid Harry, not a little surprised to find his fame had gone before him. " He heard about the pocTiet-book, and wanted to see you. He said it was the meanest thing he ever beard of, that the man who lost it didn't give you anything ; and them's my sentiments exactly. Hero comes the major ; I will speak to him aboui'. you." " Thank yon, Joe." "Major Phillips, this boy wants to know if he may sleep in the hayloft to-night." " No," replied the stable-keeper, short as pie crust. " This is the boy that found the pocket-book, and he hain't got no place to sleep." " 0, is it ? Then I will find a place for him to sleep. So, my boy, you are an honest fellow." " I try to be," replied Harry, modestly. "If you had kept the pocket-book, you might have lodged at the Tremont House," " I had rather sleep in your stable, without it." "Squire Walker was mean not to give you a ten- dollar bill. What are you going to do with your- self?" " 1 want to get work ; perhaps you have got some- thing for me to do. I am used to horses." " Well, I don't know as I have." Major Phillips was a great fat man, rough, vulgar, and profane in his conversation ; but he had a kind and sympathizing nature. Though he swore like a E irate sometimes, his heart was in the right place so u as hamauity was concerned. AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. Ill He took Harry into tlie counting room of the eta* Me and questioned him in regard to his past history end future prospects. The latter, however, were just now rather clouded. He told the major his expe- rience in trying to get something to do, and waa afraid he should not find a place. The stable keeper was interested in him and in hia story. He swore roundly at the meanness of Jacob Wire and Squire Walker, and commended him for running away. " Well, my lad, I don't know as I can do much for you. I have three ostlers now, which is quite enough, and all I can afford to pay ; but I suppose I can find enough for a boy to do about the house and the stable. How much wages do you expect ? " ** Whatever yon think I can earn." " You can't earn much for me just now ; but if you are a-mind to try it, I will give you six dollars a month and your board." " Thank you, sir ; I shall be very glad of the chance." " Very well ; but if you work for me, you must get up early in the morning, and be wide awake." " I will, sir." _ "Now we will see about a place for you to Bleep." Over the counting room was an apartment in which two of the ostlers slept. There was room for another bed, and one was immediately set up for Harrys use. Once more, then, our hero was at home, if a mere abiding place deserves that hallowed name. It was not an elegant, or even a commodious, apartment iq which Harry was to sleep. The walls were dingy and black ; the beds looked as though they had never been clean ; and there was a greasy smell which camo from several harnesses that were kept there. It waa 112 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS comfortable, if not poetical ; and Harry sooa felt per- fectly at nome. His first duty was to caltivate the acquaintance of tlie ostlers. He found them to be rough, good- natured men, not over-scrupulous about their man- ners or their morals. If it does not occur to my young readers, it will to their parents, that this was not a fit place for a boy — that he was !r constant contact with corruption. His companions were good- hearted men ; but this circumstance rendered them all the more dangerous. There was no fireside of home, at which the evil effects of communicatioa with men of loose morals would be counteracted. Harry had not been .in hour in their society before he caught himself using a big oath — which, when he had gone to bed, he heartily repented, renewing his resolution with the promise to try again. He was up bright and early the next morning, made a fire in the counting room, and had led out half the horses in the stable to water, before Major Phillips came out. His services were in demand, as Joe Flint, for some reason, had not come to the sta- ble that morning. The stable keeper declared that he had gone on a " spree," and told Harry he might take hia place. Harry did take hia place ; and the ostlers declared that, in everything but cleaning the horses, he made good his place. The knowledge and skill which he had obtained at the poorhouse was of great value to him ; and, at night, though he was very tired, he was satisfied that he had done a good day's work. The ostlers took their meals at the house of Major Phillips, which stood at one side of the stable yard. Harry did not like Mrs. Phillips very well ; she waa cross, and the men said she was a " regular Tartar." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 11$ But he was resolved to keep the peace. He after- wards found it a difficult matter • for he had to bring wood and water, and do other chores about the liouse, and he soon ascertained that she was deter- mined not to be pleased witli anything he did. Ha tried to keep his temper, however, and meekly sub- mitted to all her scolding and grumbling. Thus far, while Harry has been passing through the momentous period of his life with which wo commenced his :tory, wc have minutely detailed the incidents of his daily life, so that we have related the events if only a few days. This is no longer neces- sary. He has got a place, and of course one day is VQvy much like every other. The reader knows him now — knows what kind of boy he is, and what his hopes and expectations are. The reader knows, too, the great moral epoch in his history — the event which roused his consciousness of error, and stimu- lated him to become better ; that he has a talisman in his mind, which can be no better expressed than by those words he so often repeated, " She hoped ho would be a good boy." And her angel smile went with him to encourage him in the midst of trial and temptation — to give him the victory over the foes that assailed him. We shall henceforth give results, instead of a daily record, stopping to detail only the great events of his career. We shall pass over three months, during which time he worked diligently and faithfully for Major Phillips. Every day had its trials and temptations ; not a day passed in which there were none. Tha habit of using profane language he found it very hard to eradicate ; but he persevered ; and though he often sinned, he as often repented and tried again mntil he had fairly mastered the enemy. It was a 114 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS great trinmph, especially when it is remembered that ne was surrounded by those whose every tenth word at least was an oath. He was tempted to lie, tempted to neglect his work, tempted to steal, tempted in a score of other things. And often he yielded ; but the remembrance of the little angel, and the words of the good Book she had given him, cheered and supported him as he etrugglecT on. Harry's finances were in a tolerably prosperous condition. With his earnings he had bought a suit of clothes, and went to church half a day every Sun- day. Besides his wages, he had saved about five dollars from the "perquisites" which he received from customers for holding their horses, running er- rands, and other little services a boy could perform. He was very careful and prudent with his money ; and whenever he added anything to his little hoard, he thought of the man v/ho hc.d become rich by saving up his fourpences. He still cherished his purpose to become a rich man, and it is very likely he had some brilliant anticipations of success. Wot a cent did he spend foolishly, though it was hard work to resist the inclination to buy the fine things, that tempted him fcrom the shop windows. Those who knew him best regarded him as a very strange boy ; but that was only because he was a little out of his element. H would have preferred to be among men who did not bluster and swear ; but, in spite of them, he had the courage and the fortitude to be true to himself. Tho little angel still maintained her ascendency in his moral natur j. The ostlers laughed at him when he took out hia little Bible, before he went to bed, to drink of the waters of life. They railed at him, called him ''Lit- tle Fiona," and tried to induce him to pitch oenta, ni AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. ItJ the Dack yard, on Sunday afternoon, instead of going to cliurch. He generally bore these taunts with pa- tience, though sometimes his high spirit would get the better of his desire to be what the little angel wished him to be. John Lane put up at the stable once a week ; and, every time he returned to Eockville, he carried a written or verbal account of the prosperity of the little pauper boy. One Sunday, he wrote her a long letter all about " being good " — how he was tempted, and how he struggled for her sake and for the sake of the truth. In return, he often received messages and letters from her, breathing the same pure spirit which she had manifested when she " fed him in the wilder- ness." These communications strengthened his moral nature, and enabled him to resist temptation. He felt just as though she was an angel sent into the world to watch over him. Perhaps he had fallen without them ; at any rate, her influence was very powerful. About the middle of January, when the earth was covered with snow, and the bleak, cold winds of win- ter blew over the city, John Lane informed Harry, on his arrival, that Julia was very sick with the scar- let fever and canker rash, and that it was feared she would not recover. This was the most severe trial of all. He wept when he thought of her sweet face reddened with the flush of fever ; and he fled to his chamber, Uf vent his emotions in silence and solitude. 110 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIAU CHAPTER XIV. W WHICH HAEET DOES X GOOD DEED, AX0 DB* TEBMIIfES TO "PACE THE MtTSIc/' While Hariy sat by the stova in the ostler's room, grieving at the intelligence he had receired from Rockville, a little girl, so lame that she walked with a crnteh, hobbled mto the apartment. " Is my father here ? " she asked, in tones so sad that Harry could not help knowing she was in disK tress. •*I don't know as I am acqnainted with your father," replied Harry. "He is one of the ostlers here." •' 0, Joseph Flint ! " " Yes ; he has not been home to dinner or enpper to*daT, and mother is very sick." "IhaTen't seen him to-day." ** 0, dear ! What will become of ns ? " sighed the little girl, as she hobbled away. Harry was struck by the sad appearance of the girl, and the desponding words she uttered. Of late, Joe Mint's rile habit of intemperance had grown upon htm so rapidly, that he did not work at the stable more than one day in three. For two monthsj. Major Phillips had been threatening to disehargo him ; and nothing but kindly consideration for hia family had prevented him from doing so. "Have you seen Joe to-day?" asked Harry of one of the ostlers, who came into the room soon after the departure of the little girL AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. II J ** No, and don't want to see him," replJed Abner, testily ; for, in Joe'a absence, his werk had to be done by the other ostlers, who did not feel yery kindly towards him. ** His little girl has just been here after him.** " Very likely he hasn't been home for a weejc," added Abner. *' I should think hia family would be very thankful if they never eaw him again. He is a nuisance to himself and everybody else." «< Where does he live ?" "Just up in Avery Street-^in a ten-footer there." <' The little girl said her mother was very sick.** " I dare say. She is always sick ; and I dont much wonder. Joe Flint is enough to make any one flick. He has been drunk about two-thirds of the time for two months." ♦< I don't see how his family get along." « Nor I, either." After Abner had warmed himself, Jie left the room. Harry was haunted by the sad look and the despond* ing tones of the poor lame girl. It was a bitter oold evening; and what if Joe's family were suffering with the cold and hunger ! It was sad to think cS such a thing ; and Harry was deeply moved. *♦ She hoped I would be a good toy. She is very flick now, and perhaps she will die,** said Harry to himself. " What would she do, if she were nere now?" He knew very well what she would do, and lie de- termined to do it himself. His heart was so deeply moved by the j)icture of sorrow and suflferJng with which his imagination had invested the home of the Intemperate ostler, that it required no argument to hiduce him to go. Bat b mutt go prepared to d» acnaething. Bow Il8 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS ever sweet and consoling may be the sympathy ol others to those in distress,, it will not warm the chilled limbs or feed the hungry mouths ; and Harry thanked God then that he had not spent his money foolishly upon gewgaws and gimcracks, or in gratify- ing a selfish appetite. After assuring himself that no one was approach- ing, he jumped on his bedstead, and reaching up into a hole in the board ceiling of the room, he took out a large wooden pill box, which was nearly filled with various silver coins, from a five-cent piece to a half dollar. Putting the box into his pocket, he went down to the stable, and inquired more particularly in relation to Joe's house. "When he had received such directions as would enable him to find the place, he told Abner he wanted to be absent a little while, and left the stable. He had no difficulty, in finding the home of the drunk- ard's family. It was a little old wooden house, in Avery Street, opposite Haymarket Place, which has long since been pulled down, to make room for a more elegant dwelling. Harry knocked, and was admitted by the little lame girl whom he had seen at the stable. ♦' I have come to see if I can do anything for you," said Harry, as he moved forward into the room in which the family lived. " Have you seen anything of father ? " asked the little girl. " I haven't ; Abner says he hasn't been to the sta- ble to-day. Haven't you any lights ?" asked Harry, as he entered the dark room. " We haven't got any oil, nor any candles." In the fireplace, a piece of pine board was blazing, which cast a faint and fitful glare into the room ; and Harrf was thas enabled to behold the soepe AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. II9 irhich the miserable home of the drnnkaird pre- sented. In one corner was a dilapidated bedstead, on which lay the sick woman. Drawn Irom under it was a trundle bed, upon which lay two small children, who had evidently been put to beu at that early hour to keep them warm, for the temperature of the apart- ment was scarcely more comfortable ■^han that of the open air. It was a cheerless home ; and the faint light of the blazing board served only to increase the desolate appearance of the place. " Who is it ? " asked the sick woman, faintly. " The boy that works at the stable," replied the lame girj '* My name is Harry "West, -marm ; and I come to Bee if yon wanted anything," added Harry. " We want a great many things," sighed sha " Can you tell me where my husband is ? " " I can't ; he hasn't been at the stable to-day." " God I what will become of us ? " sobbed the Woman. " I will help you, marm. Don't take on so. I have money ; and I will do everything I can for you." When her mother sobbed, the lame girl sat down on the bed, and cried bitterly. Harry's tender heart was melted ; and he would have wept also, if he had not been conscious of the high mission he had to perform ; and he felt very grateful that he was able to dry up those tears, and carry gladness to those bleeding hearts. " I don't know what yon can do for us," said the poor woman, " though 1 am sure I am very much obliged to you." "1 can d.o a great deal, marm. Cheer up," replied Hanyt tenderly. laO TRY AGAIN { OR, THE TRIALS As !i6 spokfli one of the children in the trundle bed sobbed in its sleep : and the poor mother's heart Beemed to be lacerated by the Bound. " Poof child I " wailed she. " He had no sapper bat a ornat of bread and a cnp Of oold water. He crfed himiself to sleep with oold and hanger. Heaven I that we ahould have come to this i *' " And the room is very coldj" added Harry, glafto- iflff ftroutld him. *• It is. Oar wood is all gone bat two great logs. Katy could not bring them up." " I worked for an hour trying to split some pieces off them," Raid Saty, the lame girl. •' I will fix them, marm," replied Harry, who felt the strength of ten stout men in his limbs at that moment. " But yoa haVe had no supper." '« No." " Wait a minute. Have you a basket P" Katy bronght him a peck basket, and Harry rushed oat of the house as though he had been shot. Great deeds were before him, and he was inspired for tha occasion. In a quarter of an hour he retamed. The basket was nearly full. Placing it in a chair, he took from it a package of candles one of which he lighted and placed in a tin candlestick on the table.. " KToW we have got a little light on the subgect,** said he, as he began to display the contents of the basket. " Here, Katy, is two pounds of meat ; here is half a pound of tea ; ydu had better put a little in the teapot, and let it be steeping for your mother." " God bless yOu I " exclaimed Mrs. Flint. ^ Yoa are an angel setit from Heaven to help ns in our distress." " No, marm ; I ain't an angel," answered Etarry, irho seemed to feel that Jnlia Bryant had an exolao AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. lat «It6 monopoly of that appellation, so far as it could be reasonably applied to mortals. " I ouly want to do my duty, marm." Katy Flint was so bewildered that she oonlQ aay nothing, though her opinion undoubtedly coincidea with that of her mother. "Here is two loaves of bread and two dozen crackers ; a pound of butter ; two pounds of sugar. There I I did not bring any milk.'' " Never mind the milk. You are a blessed child.* " Give me a pitcher, Katy. I will go down tc Thomas's Jn two shakes of a jiffy." Mrs. Flint protested that she did not want any milk — that she could get along very well without itj but Harry said the children must have it; and, without waiting for Katy to gei ohe pitcher, he took it from the closet, and ran out of the house. He was gone but a few minutes. When he re« turned, he found Katy trying to make tiie teakettla boil, but with very poor success. " Now, Katy, show me the logs, and I will soon have a fire." The lame girl conducted him to the cellar, where Harry found the remnants of the old box which Katy had tried to split. Seizing the ax, he struck a few vigorous blows, and the pine boards were reduced to a proper shape for use. Taking an armful, he re- turned to the chamber ; and soon a good fire ww) blazing under the teakettle. " There, marin, we will soon have things to rfghtB," eaid Harry, as he rose from the hearth, where he had Btooped down to blow the fire. "I am sure we should have perished if you had not come," added Mrs. Flint, wno was not digposei) to undervalue Harry's good deeds. "Then I am very glad I come." 123 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIAL, " I hope we shall be able to pay you back all the money you have spent ; but I don't know. Joseph has got so bad, I don't know what he is coming to. He is a good-hearted man. He always uses me well, even when he is in liquor. Nothing but drink could make him neglect us so." "It is a hard case, marm," added Harry. " Very hard ; he hasn't done much of anything fbr us this winter. I have been out to worlc every day till a fortnight ago, when I got sick, and couldn't do anything. Katy has kept us alive since then ; she is a good girl, and takes the whole care of Tom- my and Susan." " Poor girl 1 it is a pity she is so lame." " I don*t mind that, it I only had things to do with," said Katy, who was busy disposing of the provision which Harry had bought. As soon as the kettle boiled, she made tea, and prepared a little toast for her mother, who, however, was too sick to take much nourishment. " Now, Katy, you must eat yourself," interposed Harry, when all was ready. " I can't eat," replied the poor girl, bursting into tears. "I don't feel hungry." " Yon must eat." Just then the children in the trundle bed, dis. turbed by the unusual bustle in the room, waked, and gazed with wonder at Harry, who had seated himself on the bed. " Poor Susy I " exclaimed Katy ; " she has waked np. And Tommy, too 1 They snail have their sup- per, now." They were taken np ; and Harry's eyes were glad- dened by such a sight as he had never beheld before. The hungry ate; and every mouthful they took •welled the heart of the little si'' ns of God'« AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 1 23 bonnty. If the thought of Jtilia Bryant, languish- ing on a bed of sickness, had not marred his satisfac- tion, he had been perfectly happy. But he was doing a deed that would rejoice her heart ; he was doing just what she had done for him ; he was doing just what she would have done if she had been there. "She hoped he would be a good boy." His con- science told him he had been a good boy — that he had been true to himself, and true to the noble example she had set before him. While the family were still at supper, Harry, light- ing another candle, went down cellar to pay his re- spects to those big logs. He was a stout boy, and accustomed to the use f the ax. By slow degrees he chipped ofl the logs, until they were used up, and a great pile of serviceable wood was before him. Not content with this, he carried up several large armf uls of it, which he deposited by the fireplace in the room. " !N"ow, marnii- I don't know as I can do anything more for you to-night," said he, moving towards the door. " The Lord knows you have done enough," replied the poor woman. " I hope we shall be able to pay you for what yon have done." "I don't want anything, marm." " If we can't pay you, the Lord will reward yon." " I am paid enough already. I hope you will get -letter, marm." " I hope so. I feel better to-night than I have felt before for a week." " Good night, marm ! Good night, Katy I " And Harry hurried back to the stable. " Where have you been, Harry ? ** asked Abner, vhen he entered the ostler's room. " I have been out a little while." («4 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TRIALS " I know that. The old man wanted you ; and fchen he couldn't find you, he was as mad as thuu. der." " Where is he ? " said Harry, somewhat annoyed *o find that, while he had been doing his duty in one ejection, he had neglected his duty in another, " In the counting room. You will catch fits for going off." Whatever he should catch, he determined to " face the music," and left the room to find his employer. CHAPTEE XV. IS WHICH HAEST MAKES THE ACQUAIKTANCB OF A VERT nrpOKTAKT PEE80N-AGB. Major Phillips was in the counting room, where Harry, dreading his anger, presented himself before him. His employer was a violent man. He usually acted first, and thought the matter over afterwards ; 80 that he frequently had occasion to undo what had been done in haste and passion. His heart was kind, but his temper generally had the first word, "So you have come, Harry," exclaimed he, aa our hero opened the door. "Where have you been ? " " I have been out a little while," replied Harry, whose modesty rebelled at the idea of proclaiming the good deed lie had done. " Out a little while t '* roared the major, with an oath that froze the boy's blood. "That is enough — enough, sir. You know I don't allow man or boy to leave the stable without letting me know it*' "I W8« wrong, sir ; but I — " AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 12$ " You little sniveling monkey, how dared yon leave the stable ? " continued the stable-keeper, heed- less of the boy's submission. " I'll teach you better than that." "Will you?" said Harry, suddenly changing hia tone, as his blood began to boil. " You can begin Bs quick as you like." " You saucy young cub ! I have a great mind to five you a cowhiding," thundered the enraged stable- eeper. ♦' I should like to see you do it/* replied Harry, fixing his eyes on the poker that lay on the floor near the stove. '' Should you, you impertinent puppy ?" The major sprang forward, as if to grasp the boy by the collar ; but Harry, with his eye still fixed on the poker, retreated a pace or two, ready to act promptly when the decisive moment should come. Forgetting for the time that he had run away from one duty to attend to another, he felt indignant that he should be thus rudely treated for being absent a short time on an errand of love and charity. Ha gave himself toe much credit for the good deed, and fielt that he was a martyr to his philanthropic spir" He was willing to bear all and brave all in a go Was unbounded. In their rough and honest hearts they wished him well. They had often made fan a| 136 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS his good principles ; often laughed at him for refnS" Ing to pitch cents in the back yard on Sunday, and for going to church instead ; often ridiculed him tinder the name of "Little Pious;" still they had a great respect for him. They who are " perseented for righteousness' salie"-™who are made fun of beoauea they strive to do right — are always sure of the victory in the end. They may be often tried, but sooner or later they shall triumph. After dinner, he paid another visit to Mrs. Flint, in Avery Street. He opened his proposition to board in her family, to which she raised several objections, the chief of which was, that she had no room. The plan was more favorably received by Katy ; and she suggested that they could hire the little apartment np-stairs, which was used as a kind of lumber room by the family in the other part of the house. Her mother finally consented to the arrangement, audit became necessary to decide upon the terms; for Harry was a prudent manager, and left nothing to be settled afterwards. He then introduced the project he had mentioned to Edward ; and Mrs. Flint thought she could board them both for three dollars a week, if they could put up with humble fare. Harry declared that he was not " difficult," though he could not apeak for Edward. Our hero was delighted with the success of hia scheme, and only wished that Edward had consented to the arrangement ; but the next time he saw him, somewhat to his surprise, the clerk withdrew hia objections, and entered heartily into the scheme. "You see, Harry, I shall make a dollar a week— fifty-two dollars a year — by the arrangement," eai2 Edward, after he had consented. He evidently considered that some apology wa» dae txom him for descending from the Booial AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 1$-* al his position in the Green Street boarding-houat to the humble place beneath his mother's roof. " Certainly you will ; and that is a great deal ol money," replied Harry. " It will pay my theater tickets, and for a ride once a month besides." " For what ? " asked Harry, astonished at his com' panion's theory of economy. Edward repeated his statement, " Why don't you save your money P" " Save it ? What is the use of that t I mean to have a good time while I can." "You never will be a rich man." " I'll bet I will." " You could give yonr mother and Eaty a great many nice things with that money." " Humph ! The old man must take care of them. It is all I can do to take care of myself." " If I had a mother, and brothers and sisters, I should be glad to spend all I got in making theta happy," sighed Harry. On the following Monday morning, Harry went to his new place. He was in a strange position. All was untried and unfamiliar. Even the language of the clerks and salesmen was strange to him ; and he was painfully conscious of the deficiencies of his education and of his knowledge of business. Hd was prompt, active, and zealous ; yet his awkward* ness could not be concealed. The transition froM the stable to the store was as great as from a hotel to a palace. He made a great many blunders. Mr- Wake laughed at him ; Mr. Wade swore at him ; and all the clerks made him the butt of their mirth or their ill nature, iust as they happened to feel. . What seemed to him worse than all, Edward Flint joiued the popular side, and laaghed and swore with 1)8 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THB TRIALS the rest. Poor Harry was almost discouraged before dinner time, and began very seriously to consider whether he had not entirely mistaken bis calling. Dinner, however, seemed to inspire him with new courage and new energy ; and he hastened back to the store, resolved to try again. The shop was crowded with customers ; and part- ners and clerks halloed "Harry" till he was so confused that he hardly knew whether he stood on his head or his heels. It was. Come here. Go there. Bring this. Bring that : but in spite of laugh and curse, of push and kick, he persevered, suiting no- body, least of all himself. It was a long day, a very long day ; but it came to an end at last. Our hero had hardly strength enough left to put up the shutters. His fegs ached, his head ached, and worse than all, his heart ached, at the manifest failure of his best intentions. He thought of going to the partners, and asking them whether they thought he was fit for the place ; but be finally decided to try again for another day, and dragged himself home to rest his weary limbs. He and Edward had taken possession of their room at Joe Flint's house that morning • and on their arrival, they found that Katy had put everything iu excellent order for their reception. Harry was_ too much fatigued and disheartened to have a vei-y lively appreciation of the comforts of his new home ; but Edward, notwithstanding the descent he had made, was in high spirits. He even declared that the room they were to occupy was better than his late apart- ment in Green Street. " Do you think I shall get along with my work, Edward r " asked Harry, gloomily, after they had gone to bed. »*WhfiiofcP" AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 1 39 " Every bocly in the store has kicked and cuffed me, swore at and abused me, till I feel like a jelly." " 0, never mind that ; they always do so with a green one. They served me just so when I first went into business." "Did they?" ''Fact. One must live and learn." " It seemed to me just as though I never conld suit them." " Pooh ? Don't be blue about it." " I can't help it. I know I did not suit them." " Yes, yon did." *' "What made them laugh at me and swear at me, then?" " That is the fashion ; you must talk right up to them. If they swear at you, swear at them back again — that is, at the clerks and salesmen. If they give you any ' lip,' let 'em have as good as they send. ' " I don't want to do that." " Must do it, Harry. ' Live and learn ' is my motto. When you go among the Romans, do as ths Romans do." Harry did not like this advice ; for he who, among the Romans, would do as the Romans do, among hogs would do as the hogs do. " If I only suit them, I don't care." " You do ; I heard "Wake tell Wade that you wera a first-rate boy." " Did you ? " And Harry's heart swelled with joy to think that, in spite of his trials, he had actually triumphed in the midst of them. So he dropped the subject, with the resolution t» redouble his exertions to please his employers tha next day, and turned bis thoughts to Julia Bryant, to wonder if she were still living, or had become a& angel indeed. 140 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THg TRIALS CHAPTEE XVIL ISr WHICH HAEBY REVISITS EOCKVILLH, AND MEETS WITH A SEKIOUS LOSS. , The next evening, Harry was conscions of having gained a little in the ability to discharge his novel duties. Either the partners and the clerks had be- come tired of swearing and laughing at him, or he had made a decided improvement ; for less fault was found with him, and his position was much more satisfactory. With a light heart he put up the shutters ; for though he was very much fatigued, the prestige of future success was so cheering, that he eoarcely heeded his weary, aching limbs. Every day was an improvement on the preceding day ; and before the week was out, Harry found himself quite at home in his new occupation. He Was never a moment behind the time at which he was required to be at the store in the morning. This promptness was specially noted by the partners ; for when they came to their business in the morning, they found the store well warmed, the floor nicely swept, and everything put in order. When he was sent out with bundles he did not stop to look at the pictures in the shop windows, to play marbles, or bell long stories to other boys in the streets. If his employers had even been very un- reasonable, they could not have helped being pleased with the new boy, and Wake confidentially assured Wade that they had got a treasure. Oar hero was whoUj devoted to his business. He AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRV WEST. I4I intended to make a man of himself, and he could only accomplish his purpose by constant exertion, by constant study, and constant " trying again." Ha was obliged to keep a close watch over himself, for often he was tempted to be idle and negligent, to be careless and indifferent. After supper, on Thursday evening of his second week at Wake and Wade's, he hastened to Major Phillips's stable to see John Lane, and obtain the news from Rockville. His heart beat violently when he saw John's great wagon, for he dreaded some fear- ful announcement from his sick friend. He had not before been so deeply conscious of his indebtedness to the little angel, as now, when she lay npon the bed of pain, perhaps of death. She had kindled in his soul a love for the good and the beautiful. She had inspired him with a knowledge of the difference between the right and the wrong. In a word, she was the guiding star of his existence. Her approba- tion was to be the bright guerdon of fidelity to truth and principle. " How is Julia ? " asked Harry, without giving John time to inquire why he had left the stable. " They think she is a little grain better." " Then she is still living ? " continued Harry, a great load of anxiety removed from his soul. ♦' She is ; bat it is very doubtful how it will turn. I went in to see her yesterday, and she spoke of yon." "Spoke of me?" " She said she should like to see yon.'* *' I should like to see her very much." " Her father told me, if yon was a mind to go up to Eockville, he would pay your expenses." " I don't mind the expenses. I will go, if I catt get away." 142 TRV AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS " Her father feels very bad about it. Jnlia is an only child, and he would do anything in the world to please her." " I will go and see the gentlemen 1 work for, and if they will let me, I will go with you to-morrow morning." " Better take the stage ; you will get there so much quicker." " I will do so, then." Harry returned home to ascertain of Edward where Mr. Wake lived, and hastened to see him. That gentleman, however, coldly assured him, if he went to Rockville, he mast lose his place — they could not fet along without a boy. In vain Harry urged that e should be gone but two days ; the senior was inflexible. " What shall I do ? " said he to himself, when he got into the street again. " Mr. Wake says, she is no relation of mine, and he don't see why I should go. Poor Julia ! She may die, and I shall never see her again. I must go." It did not require a great deal of deliberation to convince himcs^^.f that it was his duty to visit the sick girl. Sh' had been a true friend to him, and he could afford to sacrifice his place to procure her even a slight gratification. Affection and duty called him one way, self-interest the other. If he did not go, he should regret it as long as he lived. Perhaps Mr. Wake would take him again on his return ; if not, he could at least go to work in the stable again. " Edward, I am going to Eockville to-morrow," he remarked to his " chum," on his return to Mrs. Flint's. " The old man agreed to it, then ? I thought he wouldn't. He never will let a fellow off even for a iag." AND TRIUMPHS Ot HARRY WEST. 14) " He did not ; bat I mnst go." " Better not, then. He will discbarge yon, for he is a hard nut." " I must go," re^ieated Harry, taking a candle, and going np to their chamber. " Yon nave got more spnnk than I gave yon credit for ; but you are sure of losing your place," replied Edward, following him np-stairs. "I can't help it." Harry opened a drawer in the old broken bureau in the room, and from beneath his clothes took out the great pill box which serred him for a savinga bank. " You have got lota of money," remarked Edward, as he glanced at the contents of the box. " Mot much ; only twelve dollars," replied Harry, taking out three oi them to pay his expenses to Bockville. " You won't leave that box there, will you, while you are gone ? " " Why not ? " " Somebody may ateal it." " I guess not. I can bide it, though, before I go." " Better do so." Harry took his money and went to a bookstore in Washington Street, where he purchased an appropri> ate present for Julia, for whiea he gave half a dollar. On nis return, he wrote her name in it, with his own as the giver. Then the safety of his money came np for consideration ; and this matter was settled by raising a loose board in the floor, and depositing the Eill box in a secure place. He had scarcely done so afore Edward joined him. Our hero did not sleep much that night. He waa not altogether satisfied with the step he was about to Uke. u was not doing right by his tfuployen ; bqt 144 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS he compromised tlie matter in part by engaging Ed- ward, " for a consideration," to make the fires and sweep out the next morning. At noon, on the following day, he reached Eock- ville, and hastened to the house of Mr. Bryant. " How is she ? " he asked, breathless with interest, of the girl who answered his knock, "She is better to-day. Are you the boy from Boston?" " Yes. Do they think she will get well ? " " The doctor has more hope of her." " I am very glad to hear it." Harry was conducted into the house, and Mr. Bry- ant was informed of his presence. "I am glad yon haye come, Harry. Julia ia much better to-day,' said her father, taking him by the hand. '* She has frequently spoken of you, during her illness, and feels a very strong interest in your welfare." " She was very good to me. I don't know what would have become of me if she had not been a friend to me." " That is the secret of her interest in yon. We love those best whom we serve most. She is asleep now ; but you shall see her as soon as she wakes. In the mean time you had better have your dinner." Mr. Bryant looked very pale, and his eyes were reddened with weeping. Harry saw how much he had suffered during the last fortnight ; but it seemed natural to him that he should sufEer terribly at the thought of losing one so beautiful and precious as the little angel. He dined alone with Mr. Bryant, for Mrs. Bryant could not leave the couch of the little sufferer. The lond father could speak of nothing but Julia, and more than once the tears fiooded his eyes, as ha told AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 14$ Harry how meek and patient she had been through the fevei-, how loving she was, and how resigned even to leave her parents, and go to the heavenly Parent, to dwell with him forever. Harry wept, too ; and after dinner, he almost feared to enter the chamber, and behold the wreck which disease had made of that bright and beautiful form. Eemoving the wrapper from the hook he had brought, — a volume of sweet poems, entitled " Angel Songs," — he, followed Mr. Bryant into the sick girl's chamber. " Ah, Harry, 1 am delighted to see you I " ex- claimed she, in a whisper, for her diseased throat rendered articulation difla.cnlt and painful. " I am sorry to see you so sick, Julia," replied Harry, taking the wasted hand she extended to him, " I am better, Harry. I feel as though I should get well now. " "I hope you will." " You don't know how much_ I have thought ol you, while I lay here ; how I wished you were my brother, and could come in every day and see me," ehe continued, with a faint smile. " I wish I could." " Now tell me how you get along in Boston." " Very well ; but your father says I must not talk much with you now. I have brought you a little book ; " and he placed it in her hand. " How good you are, Harry 1 * Angel Songs.* flow pretty 1 Now, Harry, you must read me one of the angel songs." " I will ; but I can't read very well," said he, as he opened the volume. But he did read exceedingly well. The piece ho ielected was a very pretty and a very touching little BODg ; and Harry's feelings were so deeply moved by so 146 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS the pathetic sentiments of the poem and their adap- tation to the circumstances of the case, that he was quite eloquent. When he had finished, Mrs. Bryant interfered to prevent further conversation ; and Julia, though she had a great deal to say to her young friend, cheerfully yielded to her mother's wishes, and Harry reluctantly left the room. Towards night he was permitted to see her again, when he read several of the angol songs to her, and gave her a brief account of the events of his residence in Boston. She was pleased with his earnestness, and smiled approvingly upon him for the moral tri- umphs he had achieved. The reward of all his strug- gles with trial and temptation was lavishly bestowed in her commendation, and if fidelity had not been its own reward, he could have accepted her approval as abundant compensation for all he had endured. There was no silly sentiment in Harry's composition ; he had read no novels, seen no plays, knew nothing of romance even " in real life." The homage he yielded to the fair and loving girl was an unafEected rever- ence for simple purity and goodness ; that which the True Heart and the True Life never fail to call forth wherever they exert their power. On the following morning, Julia's condition was very much improved, and the physician spoke confi- dently of a favorable issue. Harry was permitted to spend an hour by her bedside, inhaling the pure spirit that pervaded the soul of the sick one. She was so much better that her father proposed to visit the city to attend to some urgent business, which had been long deferred by her illness ; and an opportunity was thus afforded for Harry to return. Mr. Bryant drove furiously in his haste, cha'agin^ horses twice on the journey, so that they reached thtt AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. I47 city at one o'clock. On their arriyal, HaiTy's atten- tion naturally turned to the reception he expected to receive from his employers. He had not spoken of his relations with them at EockTille, preferring not to pain them, on the one hand, and not to take too much credit to himself for his devotion to Julia, on the other. After the horse was disposed of at Major Phillips's stable, Mr. Bryant walked down town with Harry ; and when they reached the store of Wake and Wade, he entered with him. " What have you come back for ? " asked the senior partnei-, rather coldly, when he saw the delin- quent. " We don't want you." Harry was confused at this reception, though it was not unexpected. " I didn't know but that you might be willing to take me again." '•No, we don't want you. Ah, Mr. Bryant. Happy to see you," continued Mr. Wake, recogniz» ing Harry's friend. " Did I understand you aright ? Did you say that you did not want my young friend, here ? replied Mr. Bryant, taking the offered hand of Mr. Wake. " I did say so," said the senior. " I was not aware that he was your friend, though ;" and he proceeded to inform Mr. Bryant, that Harry had left them against their wish. " A few words with you, if you please.* Mr. Wake conducted him to the private ofQce, where they remained for half an hour. "It is all right, Harry," continued Mr. Wake, on their return. " I did not understand the matter." " Thank you, sir ! " ejaculated our hero, rejoiced to find his place was still secure. "I would not have gone if I could possibly have helped ik." 148 TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS *' Yoa did right, my boy, and I honor you for yoitf courage and constancy." Mr. Bryant bade him an afEectionate adien, prom- ising to write to him often until Jnlia recovered, and then departed. With a grateful heart Harry immediately resumed his duties, and the partners were probably as glad to retain him as he was to remain. At night, when he went to his chamber, he raised the loose board to get the pill box, containing hia savings, in order to return the money he had not expended. To his consternation, he discovered that it was gone 1 OHAPTEE XVin. IK WHICH HARRT MEETS VTITH AN OLD ACQUAINT' ANOB, AND GETS A HARD KNOCK ON THE HEAD. It was in vain that Harry searched beneath tho broken floor for his lost treasure ; it could not be found. He raised the boards up, and satisfied him- self that it had not slipped away into any crevice, or fallen through into the room below ; and the conclu* sion was inevitable that the box had been stolen. "Who could have stolen it ? The mystery confused Harry ; for he was certain that no one had seen him deposit the box beneath the floor, No one except Edward even knew that he had any money. He was sure that neither Mrs. Flint nor Katy would have stolen it ; and he was not willing to believe that hia room-mate wonld be gnilty at >ach a mean and con- temptible aoL AND TRIUMPHS Oi' HARRY WEST. I49 He tried to assure himself that it had not been etolen — that it was still somewhere beneath the floor ; and he pulled up another board, to resume the search. He had scarcely done so before Edward joined him. " What are you about, Harry ? " he asked, appar- ently very much astonished at his chum's occupation, " Are you going to pull the house down ?" " K"ot exactly. You know my pill box ? " replied Harry, suspending operations to watch Edward's expression when he told him of his loss. " The one you kept your money in ?" " Yes. Well, it is gone." " Gone I " exclaimed Edward, starting back with surprise. " It is either lost or stolen." " What did you do with it ?" " Put it here, under this loose board." " It must be there now, then. I will help yoa find it." Edward manifested a great deal of enthusiasm in the search. He was sure it must be where Harry had put it, or that it had rolled back out of sight : and he began tearing up the floor with a zeal that threatened the destruction of the building. But the box could not be found, and they were obliged to abandon the search. "Too bad, Harry." " That is a fact ; I can't spare that money, any- how. I have been a good while earning it, and it ia too thundering bad to lose it." *' I don't understand it," continued Edward. " Nor 1 either," replied Harry, looking his com- panion sharp in the eye. " Ko one knew I had it but you." "Do you mean to say I stole it ?" exclaimed Ed- ISO TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIALS ward, doubling his &s., while his cheek reddened with anger. "I don't say so." " Humph ! "Well, you better not." " Don't get mad, Edward. I didn't mean to lay it to you." *' Didn't you ? " And Edward was very glad to have the matter compromised. *' I did not ; perhaps I spoke hastily. You know how hard I worked for this money ; and it seems hard to lose it. But no matter ; I will try again." Mrs. Flint and Katy were much grieved when Harry told of his loss. They looked as though they suspected Edward ; but they said nothing ; for it was very hard to accuse a son or a brother of such a crime. Mrs. Flint advised Harry to put his money in the savings bank in future, promising to take care of his spare funds till they amounted to five dollars, which was then the smallest sum that would be received. It was a long time before our hero became reconciled to his loss. He had made up his mind to be a rich man ; and he had carefully hoarded every cent he could spare, thus closely imitating the man who got rich by saving his fourpences. A few days after the loss, he was rer^ding in one of Katy's Sunday-school books about a miser. The wretch was held up as a warning to young folks, by showing them how he starved his body and soul for the sake of gold. " That's why I lost my money ! " exclaimed Harry, as he laid the book upon the window. " What do you mean, Harry ? " asked Katy, who sat near him. " I have been hoarding up my money just like this pjd man in the book." AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. IJI " You are not a miser, Harry. Yon couldn't be mean and stingy, if you tried." " Yes, I could. I love money." " So does everybody." " A miser wouldn't do what you did for us, Harry," added Mrs. Flint. " We ought to be careful and saving." " I have been thinking too much of money. After all, perhaps it was just as well that I lost that money." " I am sorry you lost it ; for I don't think there is any danger of your becoming a miser," said Katy. " Perhaps not ; at any rate, it has set me to thinking." Harry finished the book ; and it was, fortunately, just such a work as he required to give him right and proper views in regard to the value of wealth. His dream of being a rich man was essentially modi- fied by these views ; and he renewedly resolved that it was better to be a good man than to be a rich man, if he could not be both. It seemed to him a little remarkable that the minister should preach upon this very topic on the following Sunday, taking for his text the words, '* Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven, and all these things shall be added unto you." He was deeply impressed by the sermon, probably because it was on a subject to which he had given some attention. A few days after his return from Rockville, Harry received a very cheerful letter from Mr. Bryant, to which Julia had added a few lines in a postscript. The little angel was rapidly recovering, and our hero was rejoiced beyond expression. The favorable ter- mination of her illness was a joy which far outbal- anced the loss of his money, and he was as cheerful 15a TRY AGAIN ; OR, THE TRIAL* and contented as ever. As he expressed it, in rathei homely terms, he had got " the streak of fat and the ietreak of lean." Julia was alive ; was to smile upon him again ; was still to inspire him with that love of goodness which had given her such an influence over him. Week after week passed by, and, Harry heard noth- ing of his lost treasure ; but Julia had fully recov- ered, and for the treasure lost an incomparably greater treasure had been gained. Edward and himself con- tinued to occupy the same room, though ever sinca the loss of the money box Harry's chum had treated him coldly. There had never been much sympathy between them ; for while Edward was at the theater, or perhaps at worse places, Harry was at home, read- ing some good book, writing a letter to Eockville, or ■ employed in some other worthy occupation. Wliile Harry was at church or at the Sunday-school, Ed- ward, in company with some dissolute companion, was riding about the adjacent country. Mrs. Elint often remonstrated with her son upon the life he led, and the dissipated habits he was con- tracting ; and several times Harry ventured to intro- duce the subject. Edward, however, would not hear a word from either. It is true that we either grow better or worse, as we advance in life ; and Edward Flint's path was down a headlong steep. His mother wept, and begged him to be a better boy. He only laughed at her. Harry often wondered how he could afford to ride out, and visit the theater and other places of amuse- ment so frequently. His salary was only five dollars a week now ; it was only four when he had said it was five. He seemed to have money at all times, and to spend it very freely. He could not help be- lieving that the contents of his pill box had paid fot AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 15) ti to ns wnile we are sick ; whas 158 TRY AGAIN; OR, THE TMALS angels with healing ministrations for tlie soul visit tlie coach of pain ; what holy thoughts are some- times kindled in the darkened chamber ; what noble resolutions have their birth in the heart when the head is pillowed on the bed of sickness. But my remaining space will not permit it ; and I content mysaif with remarking, that sickness in its place is just as great a blessing as health ; that it is part of our needed discipline. When any of my young friends are sick, therefore, let them yield uncom- plainingly to their lot, assured that He who hath them in his keeping *' doeth all things well." Harry was obliged to learn this lesson ; and when the pain in his head began to be almost intolciable, he fretted and vexed himself about things at the utore. He was not half as patient as he might have been ; and, during the evening, he said a great many hard things about Ben Smart, the author of his mis- fortune. I am sorry to say he cherished some ma- lignant, revengeful feelings towards him, and looked forward with a great deal of satisfaction to the time ivhen he should be arrested and punished for his crime. Both Mr. Wake and Mr. Wade called upon him as soon as they heard of his misfortune. They were very indignant when they learned that Harry was suffering for telling the truth. They assured him that they should miss him very much at the store, but they would do the best they could — which, of course, was very pleasant to him. But they told him they could get along without him, bade him not fret, and said his salary should be paid just the same as though he did his work. " Thank you I thank you I You are very good," exclaimed Harry. ** Yes," Mr, Wake continued ; " and, as it AND TRIUMPHS OF HARRY WEST. 1 59 will cost you more to be sick, we will raise yoar wages to fonr dollars a week. "What do you say. Wade?" ** Certainly/' replied the junior, warmly. There was no possible excuse for fretting now. With so many kind friends around him, he had n"lebrated writer of boys' books. We publish the titles named below: Adrift in New York. Making His Way. A Cousin's Conspiracy. Mark Mason. Andy Gordon. Only an Irish Boy. Andy Grant's Pluck. Paul, the Peddler. Bob Burton. Phil, the Fiddler. Bound to Rise. Ralph Raymond's Heir. Brave and Bold. Risen from the Ranks. Cash Boy. Sam's Chance, Chester Rand. Shifting for Himself. Do and Dare. Sink or Swim. Driven from Home. Slow and Sure. Erie Train Boy. Store Boy. Pacing the World. Strive and Succeed, Five Hundred Dollars. Strong and Steady. Frank's Campaign. Struggling Upward. Grit. Tin Box. Hector's Inheritance. Tom, the Bootblack. Helping Himself. Tony, the Tramp. Herbert Carter's Legacy. In a New World. Try and Trust. Wait and Hope. Walter Sherwood's Pro- Jack's Ward, bation. Jed, the Poor House Boy. Young Acrobat. Joe's Luck. Young Adventurer. Julius, the Street Boy. Young Outlaw. Luke Walton. Young Salesman. Any of these books will be mailed upon receipt of SO cents. Do not fail to procure one or more of these noted volumes. A Complete Catalosne of Books ^nriU Be Sent l7pon Request. HURST & CO., Publishers. NEW YORK. A BOOK OF THE HOUR The Simple Life By CHARLES WAGNER Translated from the French by H. L. WILLIAMS The sale of this book has been magnetic and its effect far-reaching. It has the endorsement of public men, literary critics and the press generally. This is the book that President Roosevelt preaches to his countrymen. The price is made low enough to be within the reach of all. Don't fail to purchase a copy yourself and recommend it to your friends. Cloth binding, lamo. Price, postpaid, 50c. Set Our l^atest Catalogne— Free Upon Secinest. HURST & CO., Publishers. NEW YORK Helen's Babies By John Habberton Interesting ! Entertaining ! Amusing! A BOOK with a famous reputation. It is safe to say that no book, illustrating the doings of child- ren, has ever been published that has reached the popularity enjoyed by " Helen's Babies." Brilliantly written, Habberton records in this volume some of the cutest, wittiest and most amusing of childish sayings, whims and pranks, all at the expense of a bachelor uncle. The book is elaborately illustrated, which greatly assists the reader in appreciating page by page, Habberton's masterpiece. Published as follows : Popular Price Edition, Clotli, 60c., Postpaid* Quarto Edition, Tvitli Six: Colored Plates, Cloth, $1.25, Postpaid. We guarantee that you will not suffer from "the blues " after reading this book. Ash J or our complete catalogue. 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We append below the titles of this celebrated line of books : From Boyhood to Manhood ; Life of Benjamin Franklin. From Farm House to White House ; Life of George Washington. From Log Cabin to White House; Life of James A. Garfield. From Pioneer Home to White House : Liie of Abraham Lincoln. From Tannery to White House ; Life of Ulysses S. Grant. Success and Its Achievers. Tact, Push and Principle. These titles, though by different authors, also belong to this series of books : From Cottage to Castle ; The Story of Gutenberg, Inventor oi Printing. By Mrs. E. C. Pearson. Capital for Working Boys. By Mrs. Julia E. M'Conaughy. Price, postpaid, for any of the above nine books. Fifty Cents. The l.ves of these famous Americans are worthy of a place in your library. Send us your order. Complete Catalogue 1/ Book* mailed upon application. Hurst & Company, Publisher s^ 395-399 Broadway, New York. 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Over 2,000,000 copies of this famous work have been sold, and yet the sale does not diminish. Other books by the same author are The Crucifixion of 'Philip Strong l^oberi Hardy's SeUn ^ays Prices, postpaid, cloth binding, 30 cents ; paper binding, 1 5 cents. Our Complete Catalogrue can be liad for the asking. HURST & CO., PuUishers, 395-399 Broadway, New York. Cornell University Library PZ 7.062T8 1897 Try again, or, the trials and triumphs o 3 1924 012 938 035