Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best e books to read .TXT) 📕

Herbert woke up early the next morning, and a feeling of sadness came over him as he reflected that it was his last morning in Waverley. He was going out into the world, and, as he could not help thinking, under very unfavorable auspices. New scenes and new experiences usually have a charm for a boy, but Mr. Holden's disagreeable face and unpleasant smile rose before him, and the prospect seemed far from tempting.

When he came downstairs, he found Mrs. Kent in the kitchen.

“You are up early, Mrs. Kent,” said Herbert.

“Yes, Herbert; I want you to have a good breakfast before you go.”

It certainly was a nice breakfast. Tender beefsteak, warm biscuit, golden butter, potatoes fried crisp and brown, and excellent coffee, might have tempted any appetite. Herbert, in spite of his sadness, did full justice to the bountiful meal.

The family had hardly risen from breakfast when the sound of wheels was heard outside, and directly there was a knock at the door.

“It's Mr. Holden,” said the doctor, looking from the front window.

“Must we part from you so soon, Herbert?” said Mrs. Kent, affectionately.

“Where oo goin', Herbert?” asked little Mary, clinging to his knee,

“Herbert's going away, Mary,” said he, stooping and kissing his little friend.

“Herbert mustn't go 'way,” said the little girl, in discontent.

“Herbert come back soon, and bring candy for Mary,” he said, wishing that his words might come true.

By that time Mr. Holden had entered, and was surveying the scene with his disagreeable smile.

“Little Mary is quite attached to Herbert,” said the doctor.

“I am sorry,” said Mr. Holden, “that I have no little girls, as Herbert seems fond of them.”

Herbert doubted if he could become attached to anyone related to Mr. Holden.

“I'm a bachelor,” said Mr. Holden, “though perhaps I ought to be ashamed to say so. If I had had the good fortune early in life to encounter a lady like your good wife here, it might have been different.”

“It isn't too late yet, Mr. Holden,” said the doctor.

“Well, perhaps not. If Mrs. Kent is ever a widow, I may try my luck.”

“What a disagreeable man,” thought the doctor's wife, not propitiated by the compliment. “Herbert,” she said, “here are a couple of handkerchiefs I bought in the village yesterday. I hope you will find them useful.”

“Yes; no doubt he will,” said Mr. Holden, laughing. “He will think of you whenever he has a bad cold.”

Nobody even smiled at this witty sally, and, Mr. Holden, a little disappointed, remarked: “Well, time's getting on. I guess we must be going, as we have a long journey before us.”

The whole family accompanied Herbert to the road. After kissing Mary and Mrs. Kent, and shaking the doctor cordially by the hand, Herbert jumped into the wagon. Just before the horse started the doctor handed our hero a sealed envelope, saying, “You can open it after a while.”

Though, like most boys of his age, Herbert had a great horror of making a baby of himself, he could hardly help crying as he rode up the street, and felt that he had parted from his best friends. His eyes filled with tears, which he quietly wiped away with the corner of his handkerchief.

“Come, come, don't blubber, boy,” said Mr. Holden, coarsely.

Herbert was not weak enough to melt into tears at an unkind word. It roused his indignation, and he answered, shortly, “When you see me blubbering, it'll be time enough to speak, Mr. Holden.”

“It looked a good deal like it, at any rate,” said Abner. “However, I'm glad if I'm mistaken. There's nothing to cry about that I can see.”

“No, perhaps not,” said Herbert; “but there's something to be sorry for.”

“Something to be sorry for, is there?” said Abner Holden.

“Yes.”

“Well, what is it?”

“I've left my best friends, and I don't know when I shall see them again.”

“Nor I,” said Mr. Holden. “But I think it's high time you left them.”

“Why?” asked Herbert, indignantly.

“Because they were petting you and making too much of you. You won't get such treatment as that from me.”

“I don't expect it,” said our hero.