Read Ebook: The little merchant by Optic Oliver

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Ebook has 195 lines and 8644 words, and 4 pages

"Now come with me, and I will take you to my pa," added Flora.

David followed the little girl into the great house. Our hero had never seen any thing so fine before. Flora led him into the house by the front door, which was not the way to take a fish boy in; but she was so eager to have David sell his fish, she did not think of that.

"O pa, here! Come quick!" said Flora, as she threw open the door of the room where her father was reading the paper.

"What is the matter, Flora?" asked he.

"Nothing, pa; only here is a nice little boy that has got a great big pickerel; he wants to sell it to you, pa, and you must buy it," said Flora, talking as fast as she could.

"Must I?" asked Mr. Lee, with a smile. "Perhaps I shall not."

"But you must! This little boy wants to earn some money to help his mother. She is poor, and has to work very hard."

"That may be. What does he ask for the pickerel?"

"I don't know;" and then Flora ran back to David.

"What is your name, little boy?"

"David White."

Mr. Lee then came out into the entry where David was.

"Well, my little man, you have a fish to sell--have you?" said Mr. Lee.

"Yes, sir; a man told me you liked pickerel--and I came up to see if you wanted this one," said David, taking off his hat.

Mr. Lee looked at the fish, and said it was a very fine one. He then asked the price, and David told him he might give him what he pleased for it.

"Give him a good deal for it, pa," said Flora.

"I will give him half a dollar; that is more than the fish is worth, but he is a good boy;" and he handed him the money.

Flora showed him into the kitchen, and David gave the pickerel to the cook.

"You must catch some more and bring them here, and my father shall buy them," said Flora, who went with him to the gate.

"I will if I can," replied David; and he ran towards home with all his might.

How happy he was! How tightly he held on to the bright half dollar in his hand! Wouldn't his mother open her eyes when he gave it to her! How glad it would make her! He had never held so much money in his hand before; and he had earned it. He felt more like a great man than he had ever felt before. He had done a big thing--even bigger than he had hoped when the fish first bit the hook.

Half a dollar! David wondered if any other little boy ever earned so much money in one day.

"See what I have got, mother!" said David, as he ran into the house.

"Hush, David; you will wake up the baby," replied his mother. "What have you got?"

"Half a dollar," answered David, as he put the money into his mother's hand.

"Why, where did you get it?"

"I earned it, mother," said David, in a whisper, lest he should wake little Mary. "I caught a big pickerel in the river, and I sold it to Mr. Lee, and he gave me half a dollar for it."

"You have done well, David; half a dollar is a great deal of money to poor folks, like us," replied his mother, as she took the coin. "I will use this to buy you some clothes."

"Don't use it for me, mother, but for yourself. I never felt so happy before in my life. I wish I could earn some more money."

"Perhaps, there will be a chance by and by."

When David went to bed that night, instead of going to sleep, he lay awake to think of some way in which he might help his mother. If he could only earn half a dollar every day, it would almost support the family. But he could not think of any way, and so he went to sleep, and dreamed about it.

When he got up the next morning, the first thing he thought of was the half dollar he had earned the day before. School did not keep that day, and he went down to the river to catch some more pickerel. He got three, but they were not so large as the one he had caught the day before. He carried them into the village, and after trying at a dozen houses, he could find no one to buy them. He felt very bad when he carried them home, but his mother told him he must not lose his courage.

Mrs. White cooked the pickerel for their dinner that day, and David said they were very good, and he did not see why no one would buy them. After dinner David's mother sent him to the store to get some sugar. While the grocer was putting it up, he heard a man in the store say they ought to have the Boston papers in Riverdale, and he did not see why they could not be left at the people's houses, as they were in other places.

As he walked home, David thought he might carry the papers round and sell them. He had heard about the boys who sold them in Boston. His mother had seen little fellows, no bigger than he was, selling them in the city. If he could only get them he would try the plan. His eyes grew very bright as he thought of it.

"I will do it," said he to himself. "At least, I will try to do it. I will go right off and see Mr. Field, the express man, and get him to bring me out some papers next Monday."

When he had carried the sugar home, he started for Mr. Field's house. He found him at work in his garden, and told him what he wanted.

"Do you think you can sell the papers, my boy?" asked the express man.

"I can try, sir; my mother is very poor, and has to work very hard. I want to do something to help her if I can."

"That's a good boy," said the man, very kindly; "and if I can do any thing for you I am sure I will."

"If you will bring me the papers from Boston, I think I can sell them."

"You shall have a chance to try, my boy. I will bring you some next Monday. How many do you want?"

"Not many at first, sir."

"Say twenty or thirty?"

"Yes."

"I will bring them."

David was so glad he hardly knew what to do with himself. He ran home and told his mother what he had done, and she was as glad as he was when she thought what a smart son she had, and how anxious he was to help her.

Monday came; David was at the railroad station when the train came, and Mr. Field gave him the papers. David took them under his arm. How his heart beat with fear lest he should not be able to sell them! But he meant to work very hard, and he felt almost sure that he should sell them.

There were two dozen papers. They cost fifteen cents a dozen, or thirty cents for the whole. At two cents each, they would come to forty-eight cents. This would leave David a profit of eighteen cents, and this would do very well for a start.

"What have you got there, boy?" said a gentleman.

"The Journal, sir. Two cents each," replied David, taking one of the papers from under his arm.

"Give me one;" and the man handed him two cents.

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