From Farm to Fortune; or, Nat Nason's Strange Experience

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  CHAPTER XVI

  ABNER VISITS NEW YORK

  Several days passed, and Nat's uncle did all in his power to please hisnew wife. He found her very tart at times, and inclined to have her ownway, but she was a good cook and general housekeeper, and that countedfor a great deal.

  "It won't do to cross her," he told himself. "I've got to find out aboutthet gold first."

  At last he could stand the suspense no longer and so, one day, while atthe dinner table, he told the story of a rich find of money by a lady inPhiladelphia.

  "It was in the weekly paper," said he, "and by the way," he went on,"what about the pot of gold you found?"

  "The pot of gold I found?" she repeated, blankly.

  "Yes, the one you found in the well. What did you do with it?"

  "Why, I never found any pot of gold in a well, Abner! What put that inyour head?"

  He shoved back his chair in horror, and gazed at her blankly.

  "Didn't you tell me you had found a pot of gold in a well, Lucy?" hedemanded.

  "Never!"

  "Certainly, you did. You asked me if you could keep it or if the lawcould take it from you. I told you the law couldn't touch it."

  "Oh, I remember now!" she answered, sweetly. "I read about such a findin a story magazine, and I was wondering if the finder could keep it, orif it would have to be turned over to the person who owned the propertyon which the well was located. But I certainly never said anything aboutmy finding a pot of gold."

  "Well, I'll be jiggered! Didn't you go to the bank an' ask 'em if theywould take five thousand dollars?"

  "Oh, I was only curious to know how much they would take, that was all,Abner." And she smiled again.

  Abner could not endure that smile, and pushing back his chair stillfurther, he arose and left the house. Once in the barn he shook his fistviciously at an imaginary enemy.

  "Of all the fools!" he muttered. "I've been tuk in clean an' clear! Sheain't got no pot o' gold, an' never did have! If this ain't jest theworst yet. Abner Balberry, you ought to be kicked full o' holes, andducked in the pond besides!"

  He felt in no mental condition to go back to the house, and so did notreturn until it was time for supper. He found a good meal awaiting him,and his wife on hand as pert as ever.

  "What made you run off?" she demanded. "It wasn't a nice way to do."

  "You fooled me about thet pot o' gold," he answered, bluntly.

  "I never did, and I want you to stop talking about it, Abner Balberry."

  This was said so sharply it fairly made him jump.

  "Eh?"

  "Did you marry me simply for my money?" she demanded, coming up to himwith her hands on her hips.

  "N--no!" he stammered.

  "Well, then, stop talking about a pot o' gold. I haven't any, andneither have you."

  "Ain't you got no money o' your own, Lucy?"

  "If I have I'm going to keep it to myself," she answered. "Come tosupper."

  He sat down and ate in silence. The next day he wanted to speak aboutmoney again, but she cut him short.

  "I don't want to hear about it," she said, tartly. "I'm your wife, and Iam going to do my share, keeping house and helping around. And you havegot to do your share, and treat me fairly. I once heard that the firstMrs. Balberry didn't get all that was coming to her--that she had towear the same dress and bonnet for years. Now, I want to say, right now,that isn't my style. When I want a new dress I want it, and you aregoing to give it to me."

  "Am I?" he said, slowly.

  "Yes, you are, Abner Balberry, and if I want spending money you have gotto give me that, too. If you don't, I'll quit work and won't do ablessed thing around the house. So there!"

  She spoke with such vigor that it made him groan. He felt it in hisbones that she meant to have her way.

  "I am a-goin' to do my duty," he said, humbly.

  "You'd better. If you don't----" and she ended with a shake of her headthat meant a great deal.

  "She's bound to have her way," he told himself later. "I've got to gitused to it, I suppose. Drat the luck, anyway. I wish I had never heardo' thet pot o' gold!"

  In a roundabout fashion Abner Balberry had heard that Nat had gone toBuffalo, and then he learned through a man who had been to New Yorkthat his nephew was in the metropolis. Abner had often longed to visitNew York, and here he saw his opportunity to do so.

  "I'm a-goin' to New York," he announced one day, shortly after the potof gold incident.

  "What are you going to do there?" asked his wife.

  "I'm a-goin' to look fer Nat. I've heard he's down there, an' I want tosave him from goin' to destruction."

  "Better leave him where he is," said the new wife, who did not fancyanother of her husband's people around the farm.

  "No, I'm a-goin' to hunt him up. I feel it's my duty to do it."

  "Then, if you go to New York, you have got to take me along, Abner."

  "Take you along, Lucy?"

  "Yes. I've always wanted to go to New York. Fred can take care of thefarm while we are gone." Fred and the other Guff children had beeninstalled on the place, but none of them had proved of much assistance.Fred, himself, was decidedly lazy--not half as willing as Nat, so Abnerhimself admitted.

  "I don't see how I can take you, Lucy. It costs a heap to go to NewYork."

  "Well, if you can spend the money on yourself, you can spend it on me,too," she answered, calmly.

  "But it's my duty to go--to save Nat from goin' to the dogs."

  "You didn't bother about Nat when you were courting me."

  "I didn't know where he was, exactly."

  "Pooh! Well, if you go you must take me. If you don't, you won't find meor the things when you get back."

  This rather alarmed the miserly farmer, and he was half afraid she mightsell off all his belongings, and clear out.

  "All right, you shall go," he said, at last. "But it's goin' to cost aterrible sight o' money," he added, with a long sigh.

  It was decided that they should start for New York on the followingMonday morning. Mrs. Balberry had relatives at Rochester, and they madearrangements to stop over at that point for one night, for neither thefarmer or his spouse wished to take a berth in a sleeping car.

  "It's money thrown away," said Abner, "an', besides, who kin sleep witha car runnin' fifty miles an hour? If there was an accident a fellerwould be killed before he woke up!"

  Mrs. Balberry's son, Fred, grumbled greatly at having to run the farmduring their absence, and the mother had to promise the lad fifty centsa day for the extra work.

  "It's an outrage," declared Abner, when he heard of this. "He ain'tworth his keep!"

  "He is my son, and you have no right to abuse him!" declared the newwife, and then the farmer found it best to say no more. He wasdiscovering that his wife had a sharp tongue, and could use it on theslightest provocation.

  Not to go to the expense of buying meals on the train, they providedthemselves with a basket full of food, and set off bright and early atthe time appointed. The run to Rochester was without incident, and Mrs.Balberry's relatives there treated them kindly. Then, on Tuesday, theytook another train for New York, and late in the afternoon foundthemselves at the Grand Central Depot.

  "It's a fearfully crowded place," was Abner Balberry's comment, as hegazed around.

  "Which way are we to go, Abner?" asked his wife, and now she clung tohim, for the bustle and noise frightened her.

  "Let's git out on the street, where I kin have a look around," heanswered, and pulled her along through the crowd. A boy wanted to takehis carpet bag, but he shook the urchin off.

  Fortunately, while at Rochester, the farmer had heard of a hotel which Ishall call the Callac House, located but a few blocks from the station.A policeman directed the pair to this place, and here Abner Balberrysucceeded in getting a room for a dollar and a half a night.

  "Steep, ain't it?" he remarked, when he and his wife had been taken tothe room, on the seventh floor.

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p; "Steep? I should say it was, Abner--the seventh story! It's dreadful! Iknow I shan't sleep--thinking of what to do in case of a fire!"

  "I meant the price. I don't care how high up it is."

  "Will they give us meals for that, too?"

  "No, the meals is extry."

  "It's 'most a waste of money, I must say."

  "Well, I had to pay it, an' so there ain't no use to talk about it.Let's go to bed, an' git our money's worth, an' in the mornin' I'll lookfer Nat."