The Errand Boy; Or, How Phil Brent Won Success by Jr. Horatio Alger (bearly read books .txt) ๐
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- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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As Phil didn't know that this form of expression, slightly varied, had become a popular phrase of the day, he did not laugh.
โDo you belong to the church?โ asked the youth, stopping short in his own mirth.
โWhat makes you ask?โ
โBecause you don't laugh.โ
โI would if I saw anything to laugh at.โ
โCome, that's hard on me. Honor bright, have you come to do any business with us?โ
It is rather amusing to see how soon the cheapest clerk talks of โus,โ quietly identifying himself with the firm that employs him. Not that I object to it. Often it implies a personal interest in the success and prosperity of the firm, which makes a clerk more valuable. This was not, however, the case with G. Washington Wilbur, the young man who was now conversing with Phil, as will presently appear.
โI am going to work here,โ answered Phil simply.
โGoing to work here!โ repeated Mr. Wilbur in surprise. โHas old Pitkin engaged you?โ
โMr. Pitkin engaged me yesterday,โ Phil replied.
โI didn't know he wanted a boy. What are you to do?โ
โGo to the post-office, bank, and so on.โ
โYou're to be errand boy, then?โ
โYes.โ
โThat's the way I started,โ said Mr. Wilbur patronizingly.
โWhat are you now?โ
โA salesman. I wouldn't like to be back in my old position. What wages are you going to get?โ
โFive dollars.โ
โFive dollars a week!โ ejaculated Mr. G. Washington Wilbur, in amazement. โCome, you're chaffing.โ
โWhy should I do that? Is that anything remarkable?โ
โI should say it was,โ answered Mr. Wilbur slowly.
โDidn't you get as much when you were errand boy?โ
โI only got two dollars and a half. Did Pitkin tell you he would pay you five dollars a week.โ
โNo; Mr Carter told me so.โ
โThe old gentlemanโMr. Pitkin's uncle?โ
โYes. It was at his request that Mr. Pitkin took me on.โ
Mr. Wilbur looked grave.
โIt's a shame!โ he commenced.
โWhat is a shame; that I should get five dollars a week?โ
โNo, but that I should only get a dollar a week more than an errand boy. I'm worth every cent of ten dollars a week, but the old man only gives me six. It hardly keeps me in gloves and cigars.โ
โWon't he give you any more?โ
โNo; only last month I asked him for a raise, and he told me if I wasn't satisfied I might go elsewhere.โ
โYou didn't?โ
โNo, but I mean to soon. I will show old Pitkin that he can't keep a man of my experience for such a paltry salary. I dare say that Denning or Claflin would be glad to have me, and pay me what I am worth.โ
Phil did not want to laugh, but when Mr. Wilbur, who looked scarcely older than himself, and was in appearance but a callow youth, referred to himself as a man of experience he found it hard to resist.
โHadn't we better be going up stairs?โ asked Phil.
โAll right. Follow me,โ said Mr. Wilbur, โand I'll take you to the superintendent of the room.โ
โI am to report to Mr. Pitkin himself, I believe.โ
โHe won't be here yet awhile,โ said Wilbur.
But just then up came Mr. Wilbur himself, fully half an hour earlier than usual.
Phil touched his hat politely, and said:
โGood-morning.โ
โGood-morning!โ returned his employer, regarding him sharply. โAre you the boy I hired yesterday?โ
โYes, sir.โ
โCome up-stairs, then.โ
Phil followed Mr. Pitkin up-stairs, and they walked together through the sales-room.
โI hope you understand,โ said Mr. Pitkin brusquely, โthat I have engaged you at the request of Mr. Carter and to oblige him.โ
โI feel grateful to Mr. Carter,โ said Phil, not quite knowing what was coming next.
โI shouldn't myself have engaged a boy of whom I knew nothing, and who could give me no city references.โ
โI hope you won't be disappointed in me,โ said Phil.
โI hope not,โ answered Mr. Pitkin, in a tone which seemed to imply that he rather expected to be.
Phil began to feel uncomfortable. It seemed evident that whatever he did would be closely scrutinized, and that in an unfavorable spirit.
Mr. Pitkin paused before a desk at which was standing a stout man with grayish hair.
โMr. Sanderson,โ he said, โthis is the new errand boy. His name isโwhat is it, boy?โ
โPhilip Brent.โ
โYou will give him something to do. Has the mail come in?โ
โNo; we haven't sent to the post-office yet.โ
โYou may send this boy at once.โ
Mr. Sanderson took from the desk a key and handed it to Philip.
โThat is the key to our box,โ he said. โNotice the numberโ534. Open it and bring the mail. Don't loiter on the way.โ
โYes, sir.โ
Philip took the key and left the warehouse. When he reached the street he said to himself:
โI wonder where the post-office is?โ
He did not like to confess to Mr. Sanderson that he did not know, for it would probably have been considered a disqualification for the post which he was filling.
โI had better walk to Broadway,โ he said to himself. โI suppose the post-office must be on the principal street.โ
In this Phil was mistaken. At that time the post-office was on Nassau Street, in an old church which had been utilized for a purpose very different from the one to which it had originally been devoted.
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