Paul Prescott's Charge

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  XXIII.

  PAUL LOSES HIS SITUATION AND GAINS A FRIEND.

  Paul had a presentiment that he should not long remain in the employof Smith & Thompson; it was not many weeks before this presentiment wasverified.

  After having received such instruction as was necessary, the calicodepartment was left in Paul's charge. One day a customer in turning overthe patterns shown her took up a piece which Paul knew from complaintsmade by purchasers would not wash.

  "This is pretty," said she, "it is just what I have been looking for.You may cut me off twelve yards."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Wait a minute, though," interposed the lady, "will it wash?"

  "I don't think it will," said Paul, frankly, "there have been somecomplaints made about that."

  "Then I shall not want it. Let me see what else you have got."

  The customer finally departed, having found nothing to suit her.

  No sooner had she left the store than Mr. Smith called Paul.

  "Well, did you sell that lady anything?"

  "No, sir."

  "And why not?" demanded Smith, harshly.

  "Because she did not like any of the pieces."

  "Wouldn't she have ordered a dress pattern if you had not told her thecalico would not wash?"

  "Yes, sir, I suppose so," said Paul, preparing for a storm.

  "Then why did you tell her?" demanded his employer, angrily.

  "Because she asked me."

  "Couldn't you have told her that it would wash?"

  "That would not have been the truth," said Paul, sturdily.

  "You're a mighty conscientious young man," sneered Smith, "You'realtogether too pious to succeed in business. I discharge you from myemployment."

  "Very well, sir," said Paul, his heart sinking, but keeping up a braveexterior, "then I have only to bid you good-morning."

  "Good-morning, sir," said his employer with mock deference, "I adviseyou to study for the ministry, and no longer waste your talents inselling calico."

  Paul made no reply, but putting on his cap walked out of the store. Itwas the middle of the week, and Mr. Smith was, of course, owing him asmall sum for his services; but Paul was too proud to ask for his money,which that gentleman did not see fit to volunteer.

  "I am sure I have done right," thought Paul. "I had no right tomisrepresent the goods to that lady. I wonder what Uncle Hugh will say."

  "You did perfectly right," said the sexton, after Paul had related thecircumstances of his dismissal. "I wouldn't have had you act differentlyfor twenty situations. I have no doubt you will get a better positionelsewhere."

  "I hope so," said Paul. "Now that I have lost the situation, Uncle Hugh,I don't mind saying that I never liked it."

  Now commenced a search for another place. Day after day Paul went out,and day after day he returned with the same want of success.

  "Never mind, Paul," said the sexton encouragingly. "When you do succeed,perhaps you'll get something worth waiting for."

  One morning Paul went out feeling that something was going tohappen,--he didn't exactly know what,--but he felt somehow that therewas to be a change in his luck. He went out, therefore, with morehopefulness than usual; yet, when four o'clock came, and nothing hadoccurred except failure and disappointment, which unhappily were notat all out of the ordinary course, Paul began to think that he was veryfoolish to have expected anything.

  He was walking listlessly along a narrow street, when, on a sudden, heheard an exclamation of terror, of which, on turning round, he easilydiscovered the cause.

  Two spirited horses, attached to an elegant carriage, had been terrifiedin some way, and were now running at the top of their speed.

  There was no coachman on the box; he had dismounted in order to ringat some door, when the horses started. He was now doing his best toovertake the horses, but in a race between man and horse, it is easy topredict which will have the advantage.

  There seemed to be but one person in the carriage. It was a lady,--whoseface, pale with terror, could be seen from the carriage window. Herloud cries of alarm no doubt terrified the horses still more, and, byaccelerating their speed, tended to make matters worse.

  Paul was roused from a train of despondent reflections by seeing thehorses coming up the street. He instantly comprehended the whole dangerof the lady's situation.

  Most boys would have thought of nothing but getting out of the way, andleaving the carriage and its inmate to their fate. What, indeed, could aboy do against a pair of powerful horses, almost beside themselves withfright?

  But our hero, as we have already had occasion to see, was brave andself-possessed, and felt an instant desire to rescue the lady, whoseglance of helpless terror, as she leaned her head from the window, hecould see. Naturally quickwitted, it flashed upon him that the only wayto relieve a horse from one terror, was to bring another to bear uponhim.

  With scarcely a moment's premeditation, he rushed out into the middle ofthe street, full in the path of the furious horses, and with his cheekspale, for he knew his danger, but with determined air, he waved his armsaloft, and cried "Whoa!" at the top of his voice.

  The horses saw the sudden movement. They saw the boy standing directlyin front of them. They heard the word of command to which they had beenused, and by a sudden impulse, relieved from the blind terror which hadurged them on, they stopped suddenly, and stood still in the middle ofthe street, still showing in their quivering limbs the agitation throughwhich they had passed.

  Just then the coachman, panting with his hurried running, came up andseized them by the head.

  "Youngster," said he, "you're a brave fellow. You've done us a goodservice to-day. You're a pretty cool hand, you are. I don't know whatthese foolish horses would have done with the carriage if it had notbeen for you."

  "Let me get out," exclaimed the lady, not yet recovered from her fright.

  "I will open the door," said Paul, observing that the coachman was fullyoccupied in soothing the horses.

  He sprang forward, and opening the door of the carriage assisted thelady to descend.

  She breathed quickly.

  "I have been very much frightened," she said; "and I believe I have beenin very great danger. Are you the brave boy who stopped the horses?"

  Paul modestly answered in the affirmative.

  "And how did you do it? I was so terrified that I was hardly consciousof what was passing, till the horses stopped."

  Paul modestly related his agency in the matter.

  The lady gazed at his flushed face admiringly.

  "How could you have so much courage?" she asked. "You might have beentrampled to death under the hoofs of the horses."

  "I didn't think of that. I only thought of stopping the horses."

  "You are a brave boy. I shudder when I think of your danger and mine. Ishall not dare to get into the carriage again this afternoon."

  "Allow me to accompany you home?" said Paul, politely.

  "Thank you; I will trouble you to go with me as far as Broadway, andthen I can get into an omnibus."

  She turned and addressed some words to the coachman, directing him todrive home as soon as the horses were quieted, adding that she wouldtrust herself to the escort of the young hero, who had rescued her fromthe late peril.

  "You're a lucky boy," thought John, the coachman. "My mistress is onethat never does anything by halves. It won't be for nothing that youhave rescued her this afternoon."

  As they walked along, the lady, by delicate questioning, succeeded indrawing from our hero his hopes and wishes for the future. Paul, whowas of a frank and open nature, found it very natural to tell her all hefelt and wished.

  "He seems a remarkably fine boy," thought the lady to herself. "I shouldlike to do something for him."

  They emerged into Broadway.

  "I will detain you a little longer," said the lady; "and perhaps troubleyou with a parcel."

  "I shall be very glad to take it," said Paul politely.

&n
bsp; Appleton's bookstore was close at hand. Into this the lady went,followed by her young companion.

  A clerk advanced, and inquired her wishes.

  "Will you show me some writing-desks?"

  "I am going to purchase a writing-desk for a young friend of mine," sheexplained to Paul; "as he is a boy, like yourself, perhaps you can guideme in the selection."

  "Certainly," said Paul, unsuspiciously.

  Several desks were shown. Paul expressed himself admiringly of one madeof rosewood inlaid with pearl.

  "I think I will take it," said the lady.

  The price was paid, and the desk was wrapped up.

  "Now," said Mrs. Danforth, for this proved to be her name, "I willtrouble you, Paul, to take the desk for me, and accompany me in theomnibus, that is, if you have no other occupation for your time."

  "I am quite at leisure," said Paul. "I shall be most happy to do so."

  Paul left the lady at the door of her residence in Fifth Avenue, andpromised to call on his new friend the next day.

  He went home feeling that, though he had met with no success inobtaining a place, he had been very fortunate in rendering so importanta service to a lady whose friendship might be of essential service tohim.