Twilight Stories Part 11

He had, as Mrs. Boyd was well aware. Bethune & Co. was a name so well known that she could hardly believe in her boy's good luck in getting into that house in any capacity whatever.

"So all is settled," said Mr. Bethune, rising. "Let him come to me on Monday morning, and I'll see what he is fit for. He'll have to start at the very bottom--sweep the office, perhaps--I did it myself once--and I'll give him--let me see--ten s.h.i.+llings a week to begin with."

"'To begin with,'" repeated Mrs. Boyd, gently but firmly; "but he will soon be worth more. I am sure of that."

"Very well. When I see what stuff he is made of, he shall have a rise.

But I never do things at haphazard; and it's easier going up than coming down. I'm not a benevolent man, Mrs. Boyd, and you need not think it.

But I've fought the world pretty hard myself, and I like to help those that are fighting it. Good evening. Isn't that your son coming round the corner? Well, he's back exact to his time, at any rate. Tell him I hope he will be as punctual on Monday morning. Good evening, ma'am."

Now, if this were an imaginary story, I might wind it up by a delightful denoument of Mr. Bethune's turning out an old friend of the family, or developing into a new one, and taking such a fancy to Donald that he immediately gave him a clerks.h.i.+p with a large salary, and the promise of a partners.h.i.+p on coming of age, or this worthy gentleman should be an eccentric old bachelor who immediately adopted that wonderful boy and befriended the whole Boyd family.

But neither of these things, nor anything else remarkable, happened in the real story, which, as it is literally true, though told with certain necessary disguises, I prefer to keep to as closely as I can. Such astonis.h.i.+ng bits of "luck" do not happen in real life, or happen so rarely that one inclines, at least, to believe very little in either good or ill fortune, as a matter of chance. There is always something at the back of it which furnishes a key to the whole. Practically, a man's lot is of his own making. He may fail, for a while undeservedly, or he may succeed undeservedly, but, in the long run, time brings its revenges and its rewards.

As it did to Donald Boyd. He has not been taken into the house of Bethune & Co., as a partner; and it was long before he became even a clerk--at least with anything like a high salary. For Mr. Bethune, so far from being an old bachelor, had a large family to provide for, and was bringing up several of his sons to his own business, so there was little room for a stranger. But a young man who deserves to find room generally does find it, or make it. And though Donald started at the lowest rung of the ladder, he may climb to the top yet.

He had "a fair field, and no favor." Indeed, he neither wished nor asked favor. He determined to stand on his own feet from the first. He had hard work and few holidays, made mistakes, found them out and corrected them, got sharp words and bore them, learnt his own weak points and--not so easily--his strong ones. Still he did learn them; for, unless you can trust yourself, be sure n.o.body else will trust you.

This was Donald's great point. HE WAS TRUSTED. People soon found out that they might trust him; that he always told the truth, and never pretended to do more than he could do; but that which he could do, they might depend upon his doing, punctually, accurately, carefully, and never leaving off till it was done. Therefore, though others might be quicker, sharper, more "up to things" than he, there was no one so reliable, and it soon got to be a proverb in the office of Bethune & Co.--and other offices, too--"If you wish a thing done, go to Boyd."

I am bound to say this, for I am painting no imaginary portrait, but describing an individual who really exists, and who may be met any day walking about Edinburgh, though his name is not Donald Boyd, and there is no such firm as Bethune & Co. But the house he does belong to values the young fellow so highly that there is little doubt he will rise in it, and rise in every way, probably to the very top of the tree, and tell his children and grandchildren the story which, in its main features, I have recorded here, of how he first began facing the world.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN."

We went to the Zoo the Leopard to see, But found him an unsociable fellow.

He would not look at us or say where he bought His polka-dot suit of yellow.

ROBERT OF LINCOLN.

Merrily swinging on briar and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name; Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Snug and safe in that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers.

Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed.

Wearing a bright black wedding-coat; White are his shoulders and white his crest, Hear him calling his merry note: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Look, what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there was never a bird so fine.

Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Pa.s.sing at home a quiet life, Broods in the gra.s.s while her husband sings: Bob-o'-l ink, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Brood, kind creatures; you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here.

Chee, chee, chee.

Modest and shy as a nun is she, One weak chirp is her only note, Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Never was I afraid of man; Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.

Chee, chee, chee.

Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight!

There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about.

Chee, chee, chee.

Soon as the-little ones chip the sh.e.l.l Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seed for the hungry brood.

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me.

Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work, and silent with care; Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air,

Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; n.o.body knows but my mate and I Where our nest and our nestlings lie.

Chee, chee, chee.

Summer wanes; the children are grown; Fun and frolic no more he knows; Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone; Off he flies, and we sing as he goes: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again.

Chee, chee, chee.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

Riggity-rig, Dance a jig, Dance a Highland Fling; Dance a Cake-walk, Give us o Clog, Or cut a Pigeon's Wing.

U. S. SPELLS US.

My papa's all dressed up to-day; He never looked so fine; I thought when I first looked at him My papa wasn't mine.

He's got a beautiful new suit The old one was so old-- It's blue, with b.u.t.tons, oh, so bright, I guess they must be gold.

And papa's sort o' glad and sort O' sad--I wonder why; And ev'ry time she looks at him It makes my mamma cry.

Who's Uncle Sam? My papa says That he belongs to him; But papa's joking, 'cause he knows My uncle's name is Jim.

My papa just belongs to me And mamma. And I guess The folks are blind who cannot see His b.u.t.tons marked U. S.

U. S. spells Us. He's ours--and yet My mamma can't help cry, And papa tries to smile at me And can't--I wonder why.

ANON.

A dancing Bear came down the street; The children all ran to see the treat; Said the keeper: "Now, boys, come pay for your fun; Give me a penny to buy Bruin a bun."

"DIXIE" AND "YANKEE DOODLE."

I was born 'way down in "Dixie,"

Reared beneath the Southern skies, And they didn't have to teach me Every "Yankee" to despise.

I was but a country youngster When I donned a suit of gray, When I shouldered my old musket, And marched forth the "Yanks" to slay.