Part 20 (1/2)
”He said I didn't earn any more. He's a stingy old hunks, any way, and I wish I was in another place.”
”So do I; but it isn't so easy to get a new position. You had better stay in this till another offers.”
”I hate carrying bundles through the streets. It isn't fit work for a gentleman's son.”
”Ah, if your poor father had lived, things would have been very different with us all!” said Mrs. Crawford, with a sigh. She chose to forget that previous to his death her late husband's habits had been such that he contributed very little to the comfort or support of the family.
”I wouldn't care if I were a salesman,” continued Roswell; ”but I don't like being an errand boy. I'd just as lives go to the post-office for letters, or to the bank with money, but, as for carrying big bundles of calico under my arm, I don't like it. I was walking on Madison Avenue the other day with a ten-pound bundle, when the boot-black came up, dressed handsomely, with a gold watch and chain, and exulted over me for carrying such a big bundle.”
There was a little exaggeration about this, for d.i.c.k was very far from exulting over Roswell, otherwise he certainly would not have volunteered to carry the bundle himself. But it often happens that older persons than Roswell are not above a little misrepresentation now and then.
”He's an impudent fellow, then!” said Mrs. Crawford, indignantly. ”Then Mr. Hall won't raise your wages?”
”It wasn't Mr. Hall I asked. It was Mr. Turner,” said Roswell.
”Didn't he hold out any hopes of raising your wages hereafter?”
”He said he would raise them when I deserve it. He don't amount to much.
He's no gentleman,” said Roswell, scornfully.
”Who's no gentleman?” inquired James Gilbert, who chanced just then to enter the room.
”Mr. Turner.”
”Who's Mr. Turner?”
”My employer,--Hall & Turner, you know.”
”What's amiss with him?”
”I asked him to raise my wages to-night, and he wouldn't.”
”Umph! How much did you ask for?”
”Two dollars more a week.”
”You're a fool!”
”_What!_” said Roswell, astonished.
”WHAT!” exclaimed Mrs. Crawford, angrily.
”I say the lad's a fool to ask for so large an advance so soon. Of course his employers refused it. I would, in their place.”
”You're very hard upon the poor boy!” said Mrs. Crawford. ”I thought you were his friend.”
”So I am; but he's acted foolishly for all that. He should have known better.”