章节正文
know how to sell ties, and can make money."
"There's only one objection, George."
"What's that?"
"I haven't got any capital."
"It don't need much."
"How much?"
"I'll sell out all my stock at cost price."
"How much do you think there is?"
"About twenty-five dollars' worth. Then there is the frame,
which is worth, say ten dollars, making thirty-five in all. That
isn't much."
"It's more than I've got. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll take
it, and pay you five dollars down and the rest in one month."
"I would take your offer, Paul, but I need all the money how. It
will be expensive moving to Philadelphia and I shall want all I
can get."
"I wish I could buy you out," said Paul, thoughtfully.
"Can't you borrow the money?"
"How soon do you want to give up?"
"It's the seventeenth now. I should like to get rid of it by the
twenty-second."
"I'll see what I can do. Just keep it for me till to-morrow."
"All right."
Paul walked home revolving in his mind this unexpected
opportunity. He had made, as George Barry's agent, a dollar a
day, though he received only half the profits. If he were
himself the proprietor, and did equally well, he could make
twelve dollars a week. The calculation almost took away his
breath. Twelve dollars a week would make about fifty dollars a
month. It would enable him to tribute" target="_blank" title="v.贡献出；投稿；捐献">contribute more to the support of
the family, and save up money besides. But the great problem
was, how to raise the necessary money. If Paul had been a
railroad corporation, he might have issued first mortgage bonds
at a high rate of interest, payable in gold, and negotiated them
through some leading banker. But he was not much versed in
financial schemes, and therefore was at a loss. The only wealthy
friend he had was Mr. Preston, and he did not like to apply to
him till he had exhausted other ways and means.
"What makes you so sober, Paul?" asked his mother, as he entered
the room. "You are home early."
"Yes, I sold all my papers, and thought I would take an early
dinner, so as to be on hand in time for the first afternoon
papers."
"Don't you feel well?"
"Tiptop; but I've had a good offer, and I'm thinking whether I
can accept it."
"What sort of an offer?"
"George Barry wants to sell out his stand."
"How much does he ask?"
"Thirty-five dollars."
"Is it worth that?"
"Yes, it's worth all that, and more, too. If I had it I could
make two dollars a day. But I haven't got thirty-five dollars."
"I can let you have nine, Paul. I had a little saved up, and I
haven't touched the money Mr. Preston paid me for the shirts."
"I've got five myself, but that will only make fourteen."
"Won't he wait for the rest?"
"No, he's going to Philadelphia early next week, and wants the
whole in cash."
"It would be a pity to lose such a good chance," said Mrs.
Hoffman.
"That's what I think."
"You could soon save up the money on two dollars a day."
"I could pay for it in a month--I mean, all above the fourteen
dollars we have."
"In a day or two I shall have finished the second half-dozen
shirts, and then I suppose Mr. Preston will pay me nine dollars
more. I could let you have six dollars of that."
"That would make twenty. Perhaps George Barry will take that.
If he won't I don't know but I will venture to apply to Mr.
Preston."
"He seems to take an interest in you. Perhaps he would trust you
with the money."
"I could offer him a mortgage on the stock," said Paul.
"If he has occasion to foreclose, he will be well provided with
neckties," said Mrs. Hoffman, smiling.
"None of which he could wear. I'll tell you what, mother, I
should like to pick up a pocketbook in the street, containing,
say, twenty or twenty-five dollars."
"That would be very convenient," said his mother; "but I think it
will hardly do to depend on such good luck happening to you. By
the way," she said, suddenly, "perhaps I can help you, after all.
Don't you remember that gold ring I picked up in Central Park two
years ago?"
"The one you advertised?"
"Yes. I advertised, or, rather, your father did; but we never
found an owner for it."
"I remember it now, mother. Have you got the ring still?"
"I will get it."
Mrs. Hoffman went to her trunk, and, opening it, produced the
ring referred to. It was a gold ring with a single stone of
considerable size.
"I don't know how much it is worth," said Mrs. Hoffman; "but if
the ring is a diamond, as I think it is, it must be worth as much
as twenty dollars."
"Did you ever price it?"
"No, Paul; I have kept it, thinking that it would be something to
fall back upon if we should ever be hard pressed. As long as we
were able to get along without suffering, I thought I would keep
it. Besides, I had another feeling. It might belong to some
person who prized it very much, and the time might come when we
could find the owner. However, that is not likely after so long
a time. So, if you cannot raise the money in any other way, you
may sell the ring."
"I might pawn it for thirty days, mother. By that time I should
be able to redeem it with the profits of my business."
"I don't think you could get enough from a pawn-broker."
"I can try, at any rate; but first I will see George Barry, and
find out whether he will take twenty dollars down, and the rest
at the end of a month."
Paul wrapped up the ring in a piece of paper, and deposited it in
his vest pocket. He waited till after dinner, and then went at
once to the necktie stand, where he made the proposal to George
Barry.
The young man shook his head.
"I'd like to oblige you, Paul," he said, "but I must have the
money. I have an offer of thirty-two dollars, cash, from another
party, and I must take up with it if I can't do any better. I'd
rather sell out to you, but you know I have to consult my own
interest."
"Of course, George, I can't complain of that."
"I think you will be able to borrow the money somewhere."
"Most of my friends are as poor as myself," said Paul. "Still, I
think I shall be able to raise the money. Only wait for me two
days."
"Yes, Paul, I'll wait that long. I'd like to sell out to you, if
only because you have helped me when I was sick. But for you all
that would have been lost time."
"Where there's a will there's a way, George," said Paul. "I'm
bound to buy your stand and I will raise the money somehow."
Paul bought a few papers, for he did not like to lose the
afternoon trade, and in an hour had sold them all off, realizing
a profit of twenty cents. This made his profits for the day
seventy cents.
"That isn't as well as I used to do," said Paul to himself, "but
perhaps I can make something more by and by. I will go now and
see what I can get for the ring."
As he had determined, he proceeded to a pawnbroker's shop which
he had often passed. It was on Chatham street, and was kept by
an old man, an Englishman by birth, who, though he lived meanly
in a room behind his shop, was popularly supposed to have
accumulated a considerable fortune.
CHAPTER XV
THE PAWNBROKER'S SHOP
Stuffed behind the counter, and on the shelves of the
pawnbroker's shop, were articles in almost endless variety. All
was fish that came to his net. He was willing to advance on
anything that had a marketable value, and which promised to yield
him, I was about to say, a fair profit. But a fair profit was
far from satisfying the old man. He demanded an extortionate
profit from those whom ill-fortune drove to his door for relief.
Eliakim Henderson, for that was his name, was a small man, with a
bald head, scattering yellow whiskers, and foxlike eyes.
Spiderlike he waited for the flies who flew of their own accord
into his clutches, and took care not to let them go until he had
levied a large tribute. When Paul entered the shop, there were
three customers ahead of him. One was a young woman, whose pale
face and sunken cheeks showed that she was waging an unequal
conflict with disease. She was a seamstress by occupation, and
had to work fifteen hours a day to earn the little that was
barely sufficient to keep body and soul together. Confined in
her close little room on the fourth floor, she scarcely dared to
snatch time to look out of the window into the street beneath,
lest she should not be able to complete her allotted task. A two
days' sickness had compelled her to have recourse to Eliakim
Henderson. She had under her arm a small bundle covered with an
old copy of the Sun.
"What have you got there?" asked the old man, roughly. "Show it
quick, for there's others waiting."
Meekly she unfolded a small shawl, somewhat faded from long use.
"What will you give me on that?" she asked, timidly.
"It isn't worth much."
"It cost five dollars."
"Then you got cheated. It never was worth half the money. What
do you want on it?"
The seamstress intended to ask a dollar and a half, but after
this depreciation she did not venture to name so high a figure.
"A dollar and a quarter," she said.
"A dollar and a quarter!" repeated the old man, shrilly. "Take
it home with you. I don't want it."
"What will you give?" asked the poor girl, faintly.
"Fifty cents. Not a penny more."
"Fifty cents!" she repeated, in dismay, and was about to refold
it. But the thought of her rent in arrears changed her
half-formed intention.
"I'll take it, sir."
The money and ticket were handed her, and she went back to her
miserable attic-room, coughing as she went.
"Now, ma'am," said Eliakim.
His new customer was an Irish woman, by no means consumptive in
appearance, red of face and portly of figure.
"And what'll ye be givin' me for this?" she asked, displaying a
pair of pantaloons.
"Are they yours, ma'am?" asked Eliakim, with a chuckle.
"It's not Bridget McCarty that wears the breeches," said that
lady. "It's me husband's, and a dacent, respectable man he is,
barrin' the drink, which turns his head. What'll ye give for
'em?"
"Name your price," said Eliakim, whose principle it was to insist
upon his customers making the first offer.
"Twelve shillin's," said Bridget.
"There's only one objection, George."
"What's that?"
"I haven't got any capital."
"It don't need much."
"How much?"
"I'll sell out all my stock at cost price."
"How much do you think there is?"
"About twenty-five dollars' worth. Then there is the frame,
which is worth, say ten dollars, making thirty-five in all. That
isn't much."
"It's more than I've got. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll take
it, and pay you five dollars down and the rest in one month."
"I would take your offer, Paul, but I need all the money how. It
will be expensive moving to Philadelphia and I shall want all I
can get."
"I wish I could buy you out," said Paul, thoughtfully.
"Can't you borrow the money?"
"How soon do you want to give up?"
"It's the seventeenth now. I should like to get rid of it by the
twenty-second."
"I'll see what I can do. Just keep it for me till to-morrow."
"All right."
Paul walked home revolving in his mind this unexpected
opportunity. He had made, as George Barry's agent, a dollar a
day, though he received only half the profits. If he were
himself the proprietor, and did equally well, he could make
twelve dollars a week. The calculation almost took away his
breath. Twelve dollars a week would make about fifty dollars a
month. It would enable him to tribute" target="_blank" title="v.贡献出；投稿；捐献">contribute more to the support of
the family, and save up money besides. But the great problem
was, how to raise the necessary money. If Paul had been a
railroad corporation, he might have issued first mortgage bonds
at a high rate of interest, payable in gold, and negotiated them
through some leading banker. But he was not much versed in
financial schemes, and therefore was at a loss. The only wealthy
friend he had was Mr. Preston, and he did not like to apply to
him till he had exhausted other ways and means.
"What makes you so sober, Paul?" asked his mother, as he entered
the room. "You are home early."
"Yes, I sold all my papers, and thought I would take an early
dinner, so as to be on hand in time for the first afternoon
papers."
"Don't you feel well?"
"Tiptop; but I've had a good offer, and I'm thinking whether I
can accept it."
"What sort of an offer?"
"George Barry wants to sell out his stand."
"How much does he ask?"
"Thirty-five dollars."
"Is it worth that?"
"Yes, it's worth all that, and more, too. If I had it I could
make two dollars a day. But I haven't got thirty-five dollars."
"I can let you have nine, Paul. I had a little saved up, and I
haven't touched the money Mr. Preston paid me for the shirts."
"I've got five myself, but that will only make fourteen."
"Won't he wait for the rest?"
"No, he's going to Philadelphia early next week, and wants the
whole in cash."
"It would be a pity to lose such a good chance," said Mrs.
Hoffman.
"That's what I think."
"You could soon save up the money on two dollars a day."
"I could pay for it in a month--I mean, all above the fourteen
dollars we have."
"In a day or two I shall have finished the second half-dozen
shirts, and then I suppose Mr. Preston will pay me nine dollars
more. I could let you have six dollars of that."
"That would make twenty. Perhaps George Barry will take that.
If he won't I don't know but I will venture to apply to Mr.
Preston."
"He seems to take an interest in you. Perhaps he would trust you
with the money."
"I could offer him a mortgage on the stock," said Paul.
"If he has occasion to foreclose, he will be well provided with
neckties," said Mrs. Hoffman, smiling.
"None of which he could wear. I'll tell you what, mother, I
should like to pick up a pocketbook in the street, containing,
say, twenty or twenty-five dollars."
"That would be very convenient," said his mother; "but I think it
will hardly do to depend on such good luck happening to you. By
the way," she said, suddenly, "perhaps I can help you, after all.
Don't you remember that gold ring I picked up in Central Park two
years ago?"
"The one you advertised?"
"Yes. I advertised, or, rather, your father did; but we never
found an owner for it."
"I remember it now, mother. Have you got the ring still?"
"I will get it."
Mrs. Hoffman went to her trunk, and, opening it, produced the
ring referred to. It was a gold ring with a single stone of
considerable size.
"I don't know how much it is worth," said Mrs. Hoffman; "but if
the ring is a diamond, as I think it is, it must be worth as much
as twenty dollars."
"Did you ever price it?"
"No, Paul; I have kept it, thinking that it would be something to
fall back upon if we should ever be hard pressed. As long as we
were able to get along without suffering, I thought I would keep
it. Besides, I had another feeling. It might belong to some
person who prized it very much, and the time might come when we
could find the owner. However, that is not likely after so long
a time. So, if you cannot raise the money in any other way, you
may sell the ring."
"I might pawn it for thirty days, mother. By that time I should
be able to redeem it with the profits of my business."
"I don't think you could get enough from a pawn-broker."
"I can try, at any rate; but first I will see George Barry, and
find out whether he will take twenty dollars down, and the rest
at the end of a month."
Paul wrapped up the ring in a piece of paper, and deposited it in
his vest pocket. He waited till after dinner, and then went at
once to the necktie stand, where he made the proposal to George
Barry.
The young man shook his head.
"I'd like to oblige you, Paul," he said, "but I must have the
money. I have an offer of thirty-two dollars, cash, from another
party, and I must take up with it if I can't do any better. I'd
rather sell out to you, but you know I have to consult my own
interest."
"Of course, George, I can't complain of that."
"I think you will be able to borrow the money somewhere."
"Most of my friends are as poor as myself," said Paul. "Still, I
think I shall be able to raise the money. Only wait for me two
days."
"Yes, Paul, I'll wait that long. I'd like to sell out to you, if
only because you have helped me when I was sick. But for you all
that would have been lost time."
"Where there's a will there's a way, George," said Paul. "I'm
bound to buy your stand and I will raise the money somehow."
Paul bought a few papers, for he did not like to lose the
afternoon trade, and in an hour had sold them all off, realizing
a profit of twenty cents. This made his profits for the day
seventy cents.
"That isn't as well as I used to do," said Paul to himself, "but
perhaps I can make something more by and by. I will go now and
see what I can get for the ring."
As he had determined, he proceeded to a pawnbroker's shop which
he had often passed. It was on Chatham street, and was kept by
an old man, an Englishman by birth, who, though he lived meanly
in a room behind his shop, was popularly supposed to have
accumulated a considerable fortune.
CHAPTER XV
THE PAWNBROKER'S SHOP
Stuffed behind the counter, and on the shelves of the
pawnbroker's shop, were articles in almost endless variety. All
was fish that came to his net. He was willing to advance on
anything that had a marketable value, and which promised to yield
him, I was about to say, a fair profit. But a fair profit was
far from satisfying the old man. He demanded an extortionate
profit from those whom ill-fortune drove to his door for relief.
Eliakim Henderson, for that was his name, was a small man, with a
bald head, scattering yellow whiskers, and foxlike eyes.
Spiderlike he waited for the flies who flew of their own accord
into his clutches, and took care not to let them go until he had
levied a large tribute. When Paul entered the shop, there were
three customers ahead of him. One was a young woman, whose pale
face and sunken cheeks showed that she was waging an unequal
conflict with disease. She was a seamstress by occupation, and
had to work fifteen hours a day to earn the little that was
barely sufficient to keep body and soul together. Confined in
her close little room on the fourth floor, she scarcely dared to
snatch time to look out of the window into the street beneath,
lest she should not be able to complete her allotted task. A two
days' sickness had compelled her to have recourse to Eliakim
Henderson. She had under her arm a small bundle covered with an
old copy of the Sun.
"What have you got there?" asked the old man, roughly. "Show it
quick, for there's others waiting."
Meekly she unfolded a small shawl, somewhat faded from long use.
"What will you give me on that?" she asked, timidly.
"It isn't worth much."
"It cost five dollars."
"Then you got cheated. It never was worth half the money. What
do you want on it?"
The seamstress intended to ask a dollar and a half, but after
this depreciation she did not venture to name so high a figure.
"A dollar and a quarter," she said.
"A dollar and a quarter!" repeated the old man, shrilly. "Take
it home with you. I don't want it."
"What will you give?" asked the poor girl, faintly.
"Fifty cents. Not a penny more."
"Fifty cents!" she repeated, in dismay, and was about to refold
it. But the thought of her rent in arrears changed her
half-formed intention.
"I'll take it, sir."
The money and ticket were handed her, and she went back to her
miserable attic-room, coughing as she went.
"Now, ma'am," said Eliakim.
His new customer was an Irish woman, by no means consumptive in
appearance, red of face and portly of figure.
"And what'll ye be givin' me for this?" she asked, displaying a
pair of pantaloons.
"Are they yours, ma'am?" asked Eliakim, with a chuckle.
"It's not Bridget McCarty that wears the breeches," said that
lady. "It's me husband's, and a dacent, respectable man he is,
barrin' the drink, which turns his head. What'll ye give for
'em?"
"Name your price," said Eliakim, whose principle it was to insist
upon his customers making the first offer.
"Twelve shillin's," said Bridget.
- objection [əb´dʒekʃən]
n.反对；异议；缺点 (初中英语单词) - expensive [ik´spensiv] a.费钱的，昂贵的 (初中英语单词)
- equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
- enable [i´neibəl] vt.使能够；赋予权力 (初中英语单词)
- contribute [kən´tribju:t] v.贡献出；投稿；捐献 (初中英语单词)
- corporation [,kɔ:pə´reiʃən] n.社团；法人；公司 (初中英语单词)
- banker [´bæŋkə] n.银行家 (初中英语单词)
- therefore [´ðeəfɔ:] ad.&conj.因此；所以 (初中英语单词)
- venture [´ventʃə] n.投机 v.冒险；敢于 (初中英语单词)
- opening [´əupəniŋ] n.开放；开端 a.开始的 (初中英语单词)
- suffering [´sʌfəriŋ] n.痛苦；灾害 (初中英语单词)
- oblige [ə´blaidʒ] vt.责成；迫使；使感激 (初中英语单词)
- consult [kən´sʌlt] v.商量；磋商；请教 (初中英语单词)
- complain [kəm´plein] vi.抱怨，叫屈；控诉 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- variety [və´raiəti] n.变化；多样(性)；种类 (初中英语单词)
- willing [´wiliŋ] a.情愿的，乐意的 (初中英语单词)
- tribute [´tribju:t] n.贡物；献礼；颂词 (初中英语单词)
- occupation [,ɔkju´peiʃən] a.职业的；军事占领的 (初中英语单词)
- sickness [´siknis] n.生病；呕吐，恶心 (初中英语单词)
- bundle [´bʌndl] n.包，捆；包袱(裹) (初中英语单词)
- dismay [dis´mei] n.惊慌 vt.使惊慌 (初中英语单词)
- customer [´kʌstəmə] n.顾客，买主，主顾 (初中英语单词)
- proprietor [prə´praiətə] n.所有人；业主；经营者 (高中英语单词)
- mortgage [´mɔ:gidʒ] a.&vt.抵押 (高中英语单词)
- redeem [ri´di:m] vt.买回；偿还；履行 (高中英语单词)
- counter [´kauntə] n.计算者；柜台；计算机 (高中英语单词)
- shelves [ʃelvz] shelf的复数 (高中英语单词)
- sunken [´sʌŋkən] sink的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- roughly [´rʌfli] ad.粗糙地；毛糙地 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- respectable [ri´spektəbəl] a.可敬的；有身价的 (高中英语单词)
- calculation [,kælkju´leiʃən] n.计算；考虑，预料 (英语四级单词)
- happening [´hæpəniŋ] n.事件，偶然发生的事 (英语四级单词)
- necktie [´nektai] n.领带 (英语四级单词)
- pocketbook [´pɔkitbuk] n.袖珍本；皮夹子；财力 (英语六级单词)
- recourse [ri´kɔ:s] n.求助；依靠 (英语六级单词)
- depreciation [di,pri:ʃi´eiʃ(ə)n] n.贬值；轻视 (英语六级单词)
- shrilly [´ʃrili] ad.尖声地 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
