Part 22 (1/2)
Harry waited eagerly for the next issue of the ”Weekly Standard.” It was received by Mr. Anderson in exchange for the ”Centreville Gazette,” and usually came to hand on Sat.u.r.day morning. Harry was likely to obtain the first chance of examining the paper, as he was ordinarily sent to the post-office on the arrival of the morning mail.
His hands trembled as he unfolded the paper and hurriedly scanned the contents. But he looked in vain for his essay on Ambition. There was not even a reference to it. He was disappointed, but he soon became hopeful again.
”I couldn't expect it to appear so soon,” he reflected. ”These city weeklies have to be printed some days in advance. It may appear yet.”
So he was left in suspense another week, hopeful and doubtful by turns of the success of his first offering for the press. He was rallied from time to time on his silence in the office, but he continued to keep his secret. If his contribution was slighted, no one should know it but himself.
At last another Sat.u.r.day morning came around and again he set out for the post-office. Again he opened the paper with trembling fingers, and eagerly scanned the well-filled columns. This time his search was rewarded. There, on the first column of the last page, in all the glory of print, was his treasured essay!
A flash of pleasure tinged his cheek, and his heart beat rapidly, as he read his first printed production. It is a great event in the life of a literary novice, when he first sees himself. Even Byron says,--
”'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's self in print.”
To our young hero the essay read remarkably well--better than he had expected; but then, very likely he was prejudiced in its favor. He read 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 only moderately well expressed. A practised critic would readily have detected marks of immaturity, although it was a very creditable production for a boy of sixteen.
”Shall I tell Ferguson?” thought Harry.
On the whole he concluded to remain silent just at present. He knew Ferguson took the paper, and waited to see if he would make any remark about it.
”I should like to hear him speak of it, without knowing that I was the writer,” thought our hero.
Just before he reached the office, he discovered with satisfaction the following editorial reference to his article:--
”We print in another column an essay on 'ambition' by a new contributor. It contains some good ideas, and we especially commend it 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. I shall write again as soon as possible.”
”What makes you look so bright, Harry?” asked Ferguson, as he re-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. You wouldn'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 a short trip. Bayard Taylor was gone two years, and only spent five hundred dollars.”
”Oh, hang economy!” drawled Clapp. ”It don't suit me. I should like to know how a feller's going to economize on fifteen dollars a week.”