Try and Trust Or Abner Holden's Bound Boy Part 28

"You'd find it more of a bore to be blind yourself," said Herbert.

"Yes, I suppose I should. Grandpa wants me to go to walk with him sometimes, but I don't like it."

"If I had a grandfather who was blind, I think I should be willing."

"Wait till you have one, and you'll see how it is then."

"I suppose he needs somebody."

"Oh, well, he can take one of the servants, then. It's their business to work."

"Where do you live?" he asked, after a pause.

"I am going to live in New York."

"Are you? I should like to go there."

"Perhaps you wouldn't want to go as I am going."

"What, alone? Yes, I should rather go that way. Then I could do as I pleased. Now it's 'Oscar, do this,' and 'You mustn't do that,' all the time."

"That isn't what I mean exactly. I've got to earn my own living after I get there, and I don't know anybody in the city."

"You haven't run away from home, have you?"

"I haven't got any home."

"Where's your father and mother?"

"They are both dead."

"What are you going to do?"

"I hope to get into a store or counting-room and learn to be a merchant."

"I shan't have to work for a living," said Oscar, in a tone of importance.

"Because your family is rich, I suppose," said Herbert.

"Yes, we've got a large estate, ever so many acres. That's what mother's got. Then grandpa is rich besides, and I expect he will leave me a good deal of his money. He's pretty old, and I don't believe he'll live very long."

Oscar said this with such evident satisfaction that Herbert was disgusted, thinking it not very creditable to him to speculate so complacently upon his grandfather's speedy death.

"You seem to be well off, then," said he, at last, to the boy.

"Yes," said Oscar, "our family is one of the first in the State. My father is a Peyton."

"Is he?" asked Herbert, not appearing as much awestruck as Oscar expected.

"We've got a plantation in Virginia. We live there part of the year. My father's there now. I hope we shall go there soon."

"Do you like it better than here?"

"Yes, a good deal."

"This is a handsome place."

"Yes, this is mother's estate. The other belongs to father."

"Have you any brothers and sisters, Oscar?"

"I've got one sister. She's about twelve. But, I say, I thought you were a gentleman's son when I first saw you."

"So I am," said Herbert, emphatically.

"Was your father rich?"

"No."

"Did he have to work for a living?"

"Yes."

"Then he wasn't a gentleman," said Oscar, decidedly.

"Isn't anybody a gentleman that has to work for a living?" asked Herbert, his indignation excited by his companion's a.s.sumption of superiority.

"Of course not," said Oscar, coolly. "It isn't respectable to work.

n.i.g.g.e.rs and servants work."

"That is where I don't agree with you," said Herbert, his face flus.h.i.+ng.

"You don't pretend to be a gentleman, do you?" demanded Oscar, insolently.

"Yes, I do," said Herbert, firmly.

"But you're not one, you know."

"I don't know anything of the kind," said Herbert, angrily. "I suppose you call yourself one."

"Of course, I am a gentleman," said Oscar, complacently.

"You don't talk like one, at any rate," retorted Herbert.

This was new language for Oscar to hear. He had been accustomed to have his own way pretty much, and had been used to order round his father's servants and slaves like a little despot. The idea of being told by a boy who had to work for a living that he did not talk like a gentleman, did not suit him at all. His black eyes flashed and he clenched his fists.

"Do you mean to insult me?" he demanded.

"I never insult anybody," said Herbert, not feeling particularly alarmed by this hostile demonstration. "It is you that have insulted me."