章节正文
"I know that, too."
"Have you any idea what you intend to do?" went on the hotel
proprietor. He was standing down by the dock watching Joe clean
out one of the boats.
"I'm thinking of going to Philadelphia."
"On a visit?"
"No, sir, to try my luck."
"Oh, I see. It's a big city, my lad."
"I know it, but, somehow, I feel I might do better there than in
such a town as this,--and I am getting tired of hanging around
the lake."
"There is more money in Philadelphia than there is here, that is
certain, Joe. But you can't always get hold of it. The big
cities are crowded with people trying to obtain situations."
"I'm sure I can find something to do, Mr. Mallison. And, by the
way, when I leave, will you give me a written recommendation?"
"Certainly. You have done well since you came here. But you had
better think twice before going to Philadelphia."
"I've thought it over more than twice. I don't expect the earth,
but I feel that I can get something to do before my money runs
out."
"How much money have you saved up?"
"I've got fifty-six dollars, and I'm going to sell my boat for
four dollars."
"Well, sixty dollars isn't such a bad capital. I have known men
to start out with a good deal less. When I left home I had but
twenty dollars and an extra suit of clothes."
"Did you come from a country place?"
"No, I came from New York. Times were hard and I couldn't get a
single thing to do. I went to Paterson, New Jersey, and got work
in a silk mill. From there I went to Camden, and then to
Philadelphia. From Philadelphia I came here and have been here
ever since."
"You have been prosperous."
"Fairly so, although I don't make as much money as some of the
hotel men in the big cities. But then they take larger risks. A
few years ago a hotel friend of mine opened a big hotel in
Atlantic City. He hoped to make a small fortune, but he was not
located in the right part of the town and at the end of the
season he found himself just fifteen thousand dollars out of
pocket. Now he has sold out and is running a country hotel fifty
miles west of here. He doesn't hope to make so much, but his
business is much safer."
"I'm afraid it will be a long time before I get money enough to
run a hotel," laughed our hero.
"Would you like to run one?"
"I don't know. I'd like to educate myself first."
"Don't you study some now? I have seen you with some arithmetics
and histories."
"Yes, sir, I study a little every day. You see, I never had much
schooling, and I don't want to grow up ignorant, if I can help
it."
"That is the proper spirit, lad," answered Andrew Mallison,
warmly. "Learn all you possibly can. It will always be the
means of doing you good."
The conversation took place on Thursday and two days later the
season at the summer hotel came to an end and the last of the
boarders took their departure. Monday was spent in putting
things in order, and by Tuesday afternoon work around the place
came to an end, and all the help was paid off.
In the meantime Joe had sold his boat. With all of his money in
his pocket he called at the Talmadge house to see if Ned had
returned from the trip to the west.
"Just got back yesterday," said Ned, who came to greet him. "Had
a glorious trip. I wish you had been along. I like traveling
better than staying at home all the time."
"I am going to do a bit of traveling myself, Ned."
"Where are you going?"
"To Philadelphia--to try my luck in that city."
"Going to leave Mr. Mallison?"
"Yes,--the season is at an end."
"Oh, I see. So you are going to the Quaker City, as pa calls it.
I wish you luck. You'll have to write to me, Joe, and let me
know how you are getting along."
"I will,--and you must write to me."
"Of course."
On the following day Joe rowed along the lake to where his old
home dock had been located and made a trip to what was left of
the cabin. He spent another hour in hunting for the blue box,
but without success.
"I suppose I'll never find that box," he sighed. "I may as well
give up thinking about it."
From Andrew Mallison our hero had obtained his letter of
recommendation and also a good pocket map of Philadelphia. The
hotel man had also made him a present of a neat suit case, in
which he packed his few belongings.
Ned Talmadge came to see him off at the depot. The day was cool
and clear, and Joe felt in excellent spirits.
Soon the train came along and our hero got aboard, along with a
dozen or fifteen others. He waved a hand to Ned and his friend
shouted out a good-bye. Then the train moved on, and the town
was soon left in the distance.
The car that Joe had entered was not more than quarter filled and
he easily found a seat for himself by a window. He placed his
suit case at his feet and then gave himself up to looking at the
scenery as it rushed past.
Joe had never spent much of his time on the railroad, so the long
ride had much of novelty in it. The scenery was grand, as they
wound in and out among the hills and mountains, or crossed brooks
and rivers and well-kept farms. Numerous stops were made, and
long before Philadelphia was gained the train became crowded.
"Nice day for riding," said a man who sat down beside our hero.
He looked to be what he was, a prosperous farmer.
"It is," answered Joe.
"Goin' to Philadelphy, I reckon," went on the farmer.
"Yes, sir."
"That's where I'm going, too. Got a little business to attend
to."
"I am going there to try my luck," said Joe, he felt he could
talk to the old man with confidence.
"Goin' to look fer a job, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wot kin ye do, if I might ask?"
"Oh, I'm willing to do most anything. I've been taking care of
rowboats and working around a summer hotel, at Lake Tandy."
"Well, ye won't git many boats to look at down to Philadelphy!"
and the old farmer chuckled.
"I suppose not. Maybe I'll strike a job at one of the hotels."
"Perhaps. They tell me some hotels down there is monsterous--ten
an' twelve stories high. Ye don't catch me goin' to no sech
place. In case o' fire, it's all up with ye, if you're on the
twelfth story."
"Are you going to Philadelphia to stay, Mr.----"
"Bean is my name--Josiah Bean. I'm from Haydown Center, I am.
Got a farm there o' a hundred acres."
"Oh, is that so!"
"Wot's your handle, young man?"
"My name is Joe Bodley. I came from Riverside."
"Proud to know you." And Josiah Bean shook hands. "No, I ain't
going to stay in Philadelphy. I'm a-going on business fer my
wife. A relative left her some property an' I'm a-goin' to
collect on it."
"That's a pleasant trip to be on," was our hero's comment.
"I'll feel better when I have the six hundred dollars in my fist.
I'm afraid it ain't goin' to be no easy matter to git it."
"What's the trouble!"
"I ain't known in Philadelphy an' they tell me a feller has got
to be identified or somethin' like thet--somebody has got to
speak for ye wot knows ye."
"I see. Perhaps you'll meet some friend."
"Thet's wot I'm hopin' fer."
The train rolled on and presently Joe got out his map and began
to study it, so that he might know something of the great city
when he arrived there.
"Guess I'll git a drink o' water," said Josiah Bean, and walked
to the end of the car to do so. Immediately a slick looking man
who had been seated behind the farmer arose and followed him.
CHAPTER XIV.
A SCENE ON THE TRAIN.
The slick-looking individual had listened attentively to all that
passed between our hero and the farmer.
He waited until the latter had procured his drink of water and
then rushed up with a smile on his face.
"I declare!" he exclaimed. "How do you do?" And he extended his
hand.
"How do you do?" repeated the farmer, shaking hands slowly. He
felt much perplexed, for he could not remember having met the
other man before.
"How are matters up on the farm?" went on the stranger.
"Thank you, very good."
"I--er--I don't think you remember me, Mr. Bean," went on the
slick-looking individual.
"Well, somehow I think I know your face," answered the old
farmer, lamely. He did not wish to appear wanting in politeness.
"You ought to remember me. I spent some time in Haydown Center
year before last, selling machines."
"Oh, you had them patent reapers, is that it?"
"You've struck it."
"I remember you now. You're a nephew of Judge Davis."
"Exactly."
"O' course! O' course! But I can't remember your name nohow."
"It's Davis, too--Henry Davis."
"Oh, yes. I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Davis."
"I saw you in the seat with that boy," went on the man we shall
call Henry Davis. "I thought I knew you from the start, but I
wasn't dead sure. Going to Philadelphia with us?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good enough. Mr. Bean, won't you smoke with me? I was just
going into the smoker."
"Thanks, but I--er--I don't smoke much."
"Just one mild cigar. That won't hurt you, I'm sure. I love to
meet old friends," continued Henry Davis.
In the end the old farmer was pursuaded to walk into the smoking
car and here the slick-looking individual found a corner seat
where they would be undisturbed.
"I expect to spend a week or more in Philadelphia, Mr. Bean,"
said the stranger; "if I can be of service to you during that
time, command me."
"Well, perhaps ye can be of service to me. Do ye know many folks
in the city?"
"Oh, yes, a great many. Some are business friends and some are
folks in high society."
"I don't care for no high society. But I've got to collect six
hundred dollars an' I want somebody to identify me."
"Oh, I can do that easily, Mr. Bean."
"Kin ye?" The farmer grew interested at once. "If ye kin I'll be
much obliged to ye."
"Where must you be identified?"
"Down to the office of Barwell & Cameron, on Broad street. Do ye
know 'em?"
"I know of them, and I can find somebody who does know them, so
"Have you any idea what you intend to do?" went on the hotel
proprietor. He was standing down by the dock watching Joe clean
out one of the boats.
"I'm thinking of going to Philadelphia."
"On a visit?"
"No, sir, to try my luck."
"Oh, I see. It's a big city, my lad."
"I know it, but, somehow, I feel I might do better there than in
such a town as this,--and I am getting tired of hanging around
the lake."
"There is more money in Philadelphia than there is here, that is
certain, Joe. But you can't always get hold of it. The big
cities are crowded with people trying to obtain situations."
"I'm sure I can find something to do, Mr. Mallison. And, by the
way, when I leave, will you give me a written recommendation?"
"Certainly. You have done well since you came here. But you had
better think twice before going to Philadelphia."
"I've thought it over more than twice. I don't expect the earth,
but I feel that I can get something to do before my money runs
out."
"How much money have you saved up?"
"I've got fifty-six dollars, and I'm going to sell my boat for
four dollars."
"Well, sixty dollars isn't such a bad capital. I have known men
to start out with a good deal less. When I left home I had but
twenty dollars and an extra suit of clothes."
"Did you come from a country place?"
"No, I came from New York. Times were hard and I couldn't get a
single thing to do. I went to Paterson, New Jersey, and got work
in a silk mill. From there I went to Camden, and then to
Philadelphia. From Philadelphia I came here and have been here
ever since."
"You have been prosperous."
"Fairly so, although I don't make as much money as some of the
hotel men in the big cities. But then they take larger risks. A
few years ago a hotel friend of mine opened a big hotel in
Atlantic City. He hoped to make a small fortune, but he was not
located in the right part of the town and at the end of the
season he found himself just fifteen thousand dollars out of
pocket. Now he has sold out and is running a country hotel fifty
miles west of here. He doesn't hope to make so much, but his
business is much safer."
"I'm afraid it will be a long time before I get money enough to
run a hotel," laughed our hero.
"Would you like to run one?"
"I don't know. I'd like to educate myself first."
"Don't you study some now? I have seen you with some arithmetics
and histories."
"Yes, sir, I study a little every day. You see, I never had much
schooling, and I don't want to grow up ignorant, if I can help
it."
"That is the proper spirit, lad," answered Andrew Mallison,
warmly. "Learn all you possibly can. It will always be the
means of doing you good."
The conversation took place on Thursday and two days later the
season at the summer hotel came to an end and the last of the
boarders took their departure. Monday was spent in putting
things in order, and by Tuesday afternoon work around the place
came to an end, and all the help was paid off.
In the meantime Joe had sold his boat. With all of his money in
his pocket he called at the Talmadge house to see if Ned had
returned from the trip to the west.
"Just got back yesterday," said Ned, who came to greet him. "Had
a glorious trip. I wish you had been along. I like traveling
better than staying at home all the time."
"I am going to do a bit of traveling myself, Ned."
"Where are you going?"
"To Philadelphia--to try my luck in that city."
"Going to leave Mr. Mallison?"
"Yes,--the season is at an end."
"Oh, I see. So you are going to the Quaker City, as pa calls it.
I wish you luck. You'll have to write to me, Joe, and let me
know how you are getting along."
"I will,--and you must write to me."
"Of course."
On the following day Joe rowed along the lake to where his old
home dock had been located and made a trip to what was left of
the cabin. He spent another hour in hunting for the blue box,
but without success.
"I suppose I'll never find that box," he sighed. "I may as well
give up thinking about it."
From Andrew Mallison our hero had obtained his letter of
recommendation and also a good pocket map of Philadelphia. The
hotel man had also made him a present of a neat suit case, in
which he packed his few belongings.
Ned Talmadge came to see him off at the depot. The day was cool
and clear, and Joe felt in excellent spirits.
Soon the train came along and our hero got aboard, along with a
dozen or fifteen others. He waved a hand to Ned and his friend
shouted out a good-bye. Then the train moved on, and the town
was soon left in the distance.
The car that Joe had entered was not more than quarter filled and
he easily found a seat for himself by a window. He placed his
suit case at his feet and then gave himself up to looking at the
scenery as it rushed past.
Joe had never spent much of his time on the railroad, so the long
ride had much of novelty in it. The scenery was grand, as they
wound in and out among the hills and mountains, or crossed brooks
and rivers and well-kept farms. Numerous stops were made, and
long before Philadelphia was gained the train became crowded.
"Nice day for riding," said a man who sat down beside our hero.
He looked to be what he was, a prosperous farmer.
"It is," answered Joe.
"Goin' to Philadelphy, I reckon," went on the farmer.
"Yes, sir."
"That's where I'm going, too. Got a little business to attend
to."
"I am going there to try my luck," said Joe, he felt he could
talk to the old man with confidence.
"Goin' to look fer a job, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Wot kin ye do, if I might ask?"
"Oh, I'm willing to do most anything. I've been taking care of
rowboats and working around a summer hotel, at Lake Tandy."
"Well, ye won't git many boats to look at down to Philadelphy!"
and the old farmer chuckled.
"I suppose not. Maybe I'll strike a job at one of the hotels."
"Perhaps. They tell me some hotels down there is monsterous--ten
an' twelve stories high. Ye don't catch me goin' to no sech
place. In case o' fire, it's all up with ye, if you're on the
twelfth story."
"Are you going to Philadelphia to stay, Mr.----"
"Bean is my name--Josiah Bean. I'm from Haydown Center, I am.
Got a farm there o' a hundred acres."
"Oh, is that so!"
"Wot's your handle, young man?"
"My name is Joe Bodley. I came from Riverside."
"Proud to know you." And Josiah Bean shook hands. "No, I ain't
going to stay in Philadelphy. I'm a-going on business fer my
wife. A relative left her some property an' I'm a-goin' to
collect on it."
"That's a pleasant trip to be on," was our hero's comment.
"I'll feel better when I have the six hundred dollars in my fist.
I'm afraid it ain't goin' to be no easy matter to git it."
"What's the trouble!"
"I ain't known in Philadelphy an' they tell me a feller has got
to be identified or somethin' like thet--somebody has got to
speak for ye wot knows ye."
"I see. Perhaps you'll meet some friend."
"Thet's wot I'm hopin' fer."
The train rolled on and presently Joe got out his map and began
to study it, so that he might know something of the great city
when he arrived there.
"Guess I'll git a drink o' water," said Josiah Bean, and walked
to the end of the car to do so. Immediately a slick looking man
who had been seated behind the farmer arose and followed him.
CHAPTER XIV.
A SCENE ON THE TRAIN.
The slick-looking individual had listened attentively to all that
passed between our hero and the farmer.
He waited until the latter had procured his drink of water and
then rushed up with a smile on his face.
"I declare!" he exclaimed. "How do you do?" And he extended his
hand.
"How do you do?" repeated the farmer, shaking hands slowly. He
felt much perplexed, for he could not remember having met the
other man before.
"How are matters up on the farm?" went on the stranger.
"Thank you, very good."
"I--er--I don't think you remember me, Mr. Bean," went on the
slick-looking individual.
"Well, somehow I think I know your face," answered the old
farmer, lamely. He did not wish to appear wanting in politeness.
"You ought to remember me. I spent some time in Haydown Center
year before last, selling machines."
"Oh, you had them patent reapers, is that it?"
"You've struck it."
"I remember you now. You're a nephew of Judge Davis."
"Exactly."
"O' course! O' course! But I can't remember your name nohow."
"It's Davis, too--Henry Davis."
"Oh, yes. I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Davis."
"I saw you in the seat with that boy," went on the man we shall
call Henry Davis. "I thought I knew you from the start, but I
wasn't dead sure. Going to Philadelphia with us?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good enough. Mr. Bean, won't you smoke with me? I was just
going into the smoker."
"Thanks, but I--er--I don't smoke much."
"Just one mild cigar. That won't hurt you, I'm sure. I love to
meet old friends," continued Henry Davis.
In the end the old farmer was pursuaded to walk into the smoking
car and here the slick-looking individual found a corner seat
where they would be undisturbed.
"I expect to spend a week or more in Philadelphia, Mr. Bean,"
said the stranger; "if I can be of service to you during that
time, command me."
"Well, perhaps ye can be of service to me. Do ye know many folks
in the city?"
"Oh, yes, a great many. Some are business friends and some are
folks in high society."
"I don't care for no high society. But I've got to collect six
hundred dollars an' I want somebody to identify me."
"Oh, I can do that easily, Mr. Bean."
"Kin ye?" The farmer grew interested at once. "If ye kin I'll be
much obliged to ye."
"Where must you be identified?"
"Down to the office of Barwell & Cameron, on Broad street. Do ye
know 'em?"
"I know of them, and I can find somebody who does know them, so
- standing [´stændiŋ]
n.持续 a.直立的 (初中英语单词) - obtain [əb´tein] v.获得；买到；得到承认 (初中英语单词)
- jersey [´dʒə:zi] n.毛织运动衫；毛线衫 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- educate [´edjukeit] vt.教育；培养；训练 (初中英语单词)
- ignorant [´ignərənt] a.无知的，愚昧的 (初中英语单词)
- departure [di´pɑ:tʃə] n.离开，出发 (初中英语单词)
- meantime [´mi:ntaim] n.&ad.其间；同时 (初中英语单词)
- glorious [´glɔ:riəs] a.光荣的；辉煌的 (初中英语单词)
- aboard [ə´bɔ:d] ad.&prep.在...上 (初中英语单词)
- prosperous [´prɔspərəs] a.繁荣的；顺利的 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- relative [´relətiv] a.有关系的 n.亲属 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- patent [´peitənt, ´pæ-] a.专利的 n.专利品 (初中英语单词)
- nephew [´nevju:, ´nɛfju] n.侄子；外甥 (初中英语单词)
- identify [ai´dentifai] vt.认出；鉴定；验明 (初中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- crowded [´kraudid] a.充(拥)满了的 (高中英语单词)
- novelty [´nɔvəlti] n.新奇(的事物) (高中英语单词)
- scenery [´si:nəri] n.舞台布景 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- quaker [´kweikə] n.教友会教徒 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- extended [iks´tendid] a.伸长的；广大的 (英语六级单词)
- wanting [´wɔntiŋ, wɑ:n-] a.短缺的；不足的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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