CHAPTER XV.
A LITERARY DEBUT.
Harry waited eagerly for the next issue of the "Weekly Standard." Itwas received by Mr. Anderson in exchange for the "CentrevilleGazette," and usually came to hand on Saturday morning. Harry waslikely to obtain the first chance of examining the paper, as he wasordinarily sent to the post-office on the arrival of the morning mail.
His hands trembled as he unfolded the paper and hurriedly scanned thecontents. But he looked in vain for his essay on Ambition. Therewas not even a reference to it. He was disappointed, but he soonbecame hopeful again.
"I couldn't expect it to appear so soon," he reflected. "These cityweeklies have to be printed some days in advance. It may appear yet."
So he was left in suspense another week, hopeful and doubtful byturns of the success of his first offering for the press. He wasrallied from time to time on his silence in the office, but hecontinued to keep his secret. If his contribution was slighted, noone should know it but himself.
At last another Saturday morning came around and again he set out forthe post-office. Again he opened the paper with trembling fingers,and eagerly scanned the well-filled columns. This time his searchwas rewarded. There, on the first column of the last page, in allthe glory of print, was his treasured essay!
A flash of pleasure tinged his cheek, and his heart beat rapidly, ashe read his first printed production. It is a great event in thelife of a literary novice, when he first sees himself. Even Byronsays,--
"'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's self in print."
To our young hero the essay read remarkably well--better than he hadexpected; but then, very likely he was prejudiced in its favor. Heread it through three times on his way back to the printing office,and each time felt better satisfied.
"I wonder if any of the readers will think it was written by a boy?"thought Harry. Probably many did so suspect, for, as I have said,though the thoughts were good and sensible, the article was onlymoderately well expressed. A practised critic would readily havedetected marks of immaturity, although it was a very creditableproduction for a boy of sixteen.
"Shall I tell Ferguson?" thought Harry.
On the whole he concluded to remain silent just at present. He knewFerguson took the paper, and waited to see if he would make anyremark about it.
"I should like to hear him speak of it, without knowing that I wasthe writer," thought our hero.
Just before he reached the office, he discovered with satisfactionthe following editorial reference to his article:--
"We print in another column an essay on 'ambition' by a newcontributor. It contains some good ideas, and we especially commendit to the perusal of our young readers. We hope to hear from'Franklin' again."
"That's good," thought Harry. "I am glad the editor likes it. Ishall write again as soon as possible."
"What makes you look so bright, Harry?" asked Ferguson, as here-entered the office. "Has any one left you a fortune?"
"Not that I know of," said Harry. "Do I look happier than usual?"
"So it seems to me."
Harry was spared answering this question, for Clapp struck in,grumbling, as usual: "I wish somebody'd leave me a fortune. Youwouldn't see me here long."
"What would you do?" asked his fellow-workman.
"Cut work to begin with. I'd go to Europe and have a jolly time."
"You can do that without a fortune."
"I should like to know how?"
"Be economical, and you can save enough in three years to pay for ashort trip. Bayard Taylor was gone two years, and only spent fivehundred dollars."
"Oh, hang economy!" drawled Clapp. "It don't suit me. I should liketo know how a feller's going to economize on fifteen dollars a week."
"I could."
"Oh, no doubt," sneered Clapp, "but a man can't starve."
"Come round and take supper with me, some night," said Ferguson,good-humoredly, "and you can judge for yourself whether I believe instarving."
Clapp didn't reply to this invitation. He would not have enjoyed aquiet evening with his fellow-workman. An evening at billiards orcards, accompanied by bets on the games, would have been much more tohis mind.
"Who is Bayard Taylor, that made such a cheap tour in Europe?" askedHarry, soon afterward.
"A young journalist who had a great desire to travel. He has latelypublished an account of his tour. I don't buy many books, but Ibought that. Would you like to read it?"
"Very much."
"You can have it any time."
"Thank you."
On Monday, a very agreeable surprise awaited Harry.
"I am out of copy," he said, going up to Mr. Anderson's table.
"Here's a selection for the first page," said Mr. Anderson. "Cut itin two, and give part of it to Clapp."
Could Harry believe his eyes! It was his own article on ambition,and it was to be reproduced in the "Gazette." Next to the delight ofseeing one's self in print for the first time, is the delight ofseeing that first article copied. It is a mark of appreciation whichcannot be mistaken.
Still Harry said nothing, but, with a manner as unconcerned aspossible, handed the lower half of the essay to Clapp to set up. Thesignature "Franklin" had been cut off, and the name of the paper fromwhich the essay had been cut was substituted.
"Wouldn't Clapp feel disgusted," thought Harry, "if he knew that hewas setting up an article of mine. I believe he would have a fit."
He was too considerate to expose his fellow-workman to such acontingency, and went about his work in silence.
That evening he wrote to the publisher of the "Standard," inclosingthe price of two copies of the last number, which he desired shouldbe sent to him by mail. He wished to keep one himself, and the otherhe intended to forward to his father, who, he knew, would sympathizewith him in his success as well as his aspirations. He accompaniedthe paper by a letter in which he said,--
"I want to improve in writing as much as, I can. I want to besomething more than a printer, sometime. I shall try to qualifymyself for an editor; for an editor can exert a good deal ofinfluence in the community. I hope you will approve my plans."
In due time Harry received the following reply:--
"My dear son:--I am indeed pleased and proud to hear of your success,not that it is a great matter in itself, but because I think it showsthat you are in earnest in your determination to win an honorableposition by honorable labor. I am sorry that my narrow means havenot permitted me to give you those advantages which wealthy fatherscan bestow upon their sons. I should like to have sent you tocollege and given you an opportunity afterward of studying for aprofession. I think your natural abilities would have justified suchan outlay. But, alas! poverty has always held me back. It shuts outyou, as it has shut out me, from the chance of culture. Yourcollege, my boy, must be the printing office. If you make the bestof that, you will find that it is no mean instructor. Not Franklinalone, but many of our most eminent and influential men havegraduated from it.
"You will be glad to hear that we are all well. I have sold the cowwhich I bought of Squire Green, and got another in her place thatproves to be much better. We all send much love, and your motherwishes me to say that she misses you very much, as indeed we all do.But we know that you are better off in Centreville than you would beat home, and that helps to make us contented. Don't forget to writeevery week.
"Your affectionate father, "HIRAM WALTON.
"P. S.--If you print any more articles, we shall be interested toread them."
Harry read this letter with eager interest. He felt glad that hisfather was pleased with him, and it stimulated him to increasedexertions.
"Poor father!" he said to himself. "He has led a hard life,cultivating that rocky little farm. It has been hard work and poorpay with him. I hope there is something better in store for him. IfI ever get rich, or even well off, I will take care that he has aneasier time."
After the
next issue of the "Gazette" had appeared, Harry informedFerguson in confidence that he was the author of the article onAmbition.
"I congratulate you, Harry," said his friend. "It is an excellentessay, well thought out, and well expressed. I don't wonder, now youtell me of it. It sounds like you. Without knowing the authorship,I asked Clapp his opinion of it."
"What did he say?"
"Are you sure it won't hurt your feelings?"
"It may; but I shall get over it. Go ahead."
"He said it was rubbish."
Harry laughed.
"He would be confirmed in his decision, if he knew that I wrote it,"he said.
"No doubt. But don't let that discourage you. Keep on writing byall means, and you'll become an editor in time."