The Garies and Their Friends Part 43

"That looks something like," said she; "I am delighted with the prospect that is opening to you. Let us go and tell mother,"--and, accordingly, off they both started, to carry the agreeable intelligence to Mrs. Ellis.

That, evening Charlie, his mother, and Mr. Walters went to the house of Mr.

Blatchford. They were most, kindly received, and all the arrangements made for Charlie's apprentices.h.i.+p. He was to remain one month on trial; and if, at the end of that period, all parties were satisfied, he was to be formally indentured.

Charlie looked forward impatiently to the following Monday, on which day he was to commence his apprentices.h.i.+p. In the intervening time he held daily conferences with Kinch, as he felt their intimacy would receive a slight check after he entered upon his new pursuit.

"Look here, old fellow," said Charlie; "it won't do for you to be lounging on the door-steps of the office, nor be whistling for me under the windows.

Mr. Blatchford spoke particularly against my having playmates around in work hours; evenings I shall always be at home, and then you can come and see me as often as you like."

Since his visit to Warmouth, Charlie had been much more particular respecting his personal appearance, dressed neater, and was much more careful of his clothes. He had also given up marbles, and tried to persuade Kinch to do the same.

"I'd cut marbles, Kinch," said he to him one evening, when they were walking together, "if I were you; it makes one such a fright--covers one with chalk-marks and dirt from head to foot. And another thing, Kinch; you have an abundance of good clothes--do wear them, and try and look more like a gentleman."

"Dear me!" said Kinch, rolling up the white of his eyes--"just listen how we are going on! Hadn't I better get an eye-gla.s.s and pair of light kid gloves?"

"Oh, Kinch!" said Charlie, gravely, "I'm not joking--I mean what I say. You don't know how far rough looks and an untidy person go against one. I do wish you would try and keep yourself decent." "Well, there then--I will,"

answered Kinch. "But, Charlie, I'm afraid, with your travelling and one thing or other, you will forget your old playmate by-and-by, and get above him."

Charlie's eyes moistened; and, with a boy's impulsiveness, he threw his arm over Kinch's shoulder, and exclaimed with emphasis, "Never, old fellow, never--not as long as my name is Charlie Ellis! You mustn't be hurt at what I said, Kinch--I think more of these things than I used to--I see the importance of them. I find that any one who wants to get on must be particular in little things as well great, and I must try and be a man now--for you know things don't glide on as smoothly with us as they used. I often think of our fun in the old house--ah, perhaps we'll have good times in another of our own yet!"--and with this Charlie and his friend separated for the night.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Clouds and Suns.h.i.+ne.

The important Monday at length arrived, and Charlie hastened to the office of Mr. Blatchford, which he reached before the hour for commencing labour.

He found some dozen or more journeymen a.s.sembled in the work-room; and noticed that upon his entrance there was an interchange of significant glances, and once or twice he overheard the whisper of "n.i.g.g.e.r."

Mr. Blatchford was engaged in discussing some business matter with a gentleman, and did not observe the agitation that Charlie's entrance had occasioned. The conversation having terminated, the gentleman took up the morning paper, and Mr. Blatchford, noticing Charlie, said, "Ah! you have come, and in good time, too. Wheeler," he continued, turning to one of the workmen, "I want you to take this boy under your especial charge: give him a seat at your window, and overlook his work."

At this there was a general uprising of the workmen, who commenced throwing off their caps and ap.r.o.ns. "What is all this for?" asked Mr. Blatchford in astonishment--"why this commotion?"

"We won't work with n.i.g.g.e.rs!" cried one; "No n.i.g.g.e.r apprentices!" cried another; and "No n.i.g.g.e.rs--no n.i.g.g.e.rs!" was echoed from all parts of the room.

"Silence!" cried Mr. Blatchford, stamping violently--"silence, every one of you!" As soon as partial order was restored, he turned to Wheeler, and demanded, "What is the occasion of all this tumult--what does it mean?"

"Why, sir, it means just this: the men and boys discovered that you intended to take a n.i.g.g.e.r apprentice, and have made up their minds if you do they will quit in a body."

"It cannot be possible," exclaimed the employer, "that any man or boy in my establishment has room in his heart for such narrow contemptible prejudices. Can it be that you have entered into a conspiracy to deprive an inoffensive child of an opportunity of earning his bread in a respectable manner? Come, let me persuade you--the boy is well-behaved and educated!"

"d.a.m.n his behaviour and education!" responded a burly fellow; "let him be a barber or shoe-black--that is all n.i.g.g.e.rs are good for. If he comes, we go--that's so, ain't it, boys?"

There was a general response of approval to this appeal; and Mr.

Blatchford, seeing the utter uselessness of further parleying, left the room, followed by Charlie and the gentleman with whom he had been conversing.

Mr. Blatchford was placed in a most disagreeable position by this revolt on the part of his workmen; he had just received large orders from some new banks which were commencing operations, and a general disruption of his establishment at that moment would have ruined him. To accede to his workmen's demands he must do violence to his own conscience; but he dared not sacrifice his business and bring ruin on himself and family, even though he was right.

"What would you do, Burrell?" he asked of the gentleman who had followed them out.

"There is no question as to what you must do. You mustn't ruin yourself for the sake of your principles. You will have to abandon the lad; the other alternative is not to be thought of for a moment."

"Well, Charles, you see how it is," said Mr. Blatchford, reluctantly.

Charlie had been standing intently regarding the conversation that concerned him so deeply. His face was pale and his lips quivering with agitation.

"I'd like to keep you, my boy, but you see how I'm situated, I must either give up you or my business; the latter I cannot afford to do." With a great effort Charlie repressed his tears, and bidding them good morning in a choking voice, hastened from the room.

"It's an infernal shame!" said Mr. Blatchford, indignantly; "and I shall think meanly of myself for ever for submitting to it; but I can't help myself, and must make the best of it."

Charlie walked downstairs with lingering steps, and took the direction of home. "All because I'm coloured," said he, bitterly, to himself--"all because I'm coloured! What will mother and Esther say? How it will distress them--they've so built upon it! I wish," said he, sadly, "that I was dead!"

No longer able to repress the tears that were welling up, he walked towards the window of a print-store, where he pretended to be deeply interested in some pictures whilst he stealthily wiped his eyes. Every time he turned to leave the window, there came a fresh flood of tears; and at last he was obliged to give way entirely, and sobbed as if his heart would break.

He was thus standing when he felt a hand laid familiarly on his shoulder, and, on turning round, he beheld the gentleman he had left in Mr.

Blatchford's office. "Come, my little man," said he, "don't take it so much to heart. Cheer up--you may find some other person willing to employ you.

Come, walk on with me--where do you live?" Charlie dried his eyes and gave him his address as they walked on up the street together.

Mr. Burrell talked encouragingly, and quite succeeded in soothing him ere they separated. "I shall keep a look out for you," said he, kindly; "and if I hear of anything likely to suit you, I shall let you know."

Charlie thanked him and sauntered slowly home. When he arrived, and they saw his agitated looks, and his eyes swollen from the effect of recent tears, there was a general inquiry of "What has happened? Why are you home so early; are you sick?"

Charlie hereupon related all that had transpired at the office--his great disappointment and the occasion of it--to the intense indignation and grief of his mother and sisters. "I wish there were no white folks," said Caddy, wrathfully; "they are all, I believe, a complete set of villains and everything else that is bad."

"Don't be so sweeping in your remarks, pray don't, Caddy," interposed Esther; "you have just heard what Charlie said of Mr. Blatchford--his heart is kindly disposed, at any rate; you see he is trammelled by others."

"Oh! well, I don't like any of them--I hate them all!" she continued bitterly, driving her needle at the same time into the cloth she was sewing, as if it was a white person she had in her lap and she was sticking pins in him. "Don't cry, Charlie," she added; "the old white wretches, they shouldn't get a tear out of me for fifty trades!" But Charlie could not be comforted; he buried his head in his mother's lap, and wept over his disappointment until he made himself sick.

That day, after Mr. Burrell had finished his dinner, he remarked to his wife, "I saw something this morning, my dear, that made a deep impression on me. I haven't been able to get it out of my head for any length of time since; it touched me deeply, I a.s.sure you."

"Why, what could it have been? Pray tell me what it was."

Thereupon, he gave his wife a graphic account of the events that had transpired at Blatchford's in the morning; and in conclusion, said, "Now, you know, my dear, that no one would call _me_ an _Abolitionist_; and I suppose I have some little prejudice, as well as others, against coloured people; but I had no idea that sensible men would have carried it to that extent, to set themselves up, as they did, in opposition to a little boy anxious to earn his bread by learning a useful trade."

Mrs. Burrell was a young woman of about twenty-two, with a round good-natured face and plump comfortable-looking figure; she had a heart overflowing with kindness, and was naturally much affected by what he related. "I declare it's perfectly outrageous," exclaimed she, indignantly; "and I wonder at Blatchford for submitting to it. I wouldn't allow myself to be dictated to in that manner--and he such an Abolitionist too! Had I been him, I should have stuck to my principles at any risk. Poor little fellow! I so wonder at Blatchford; I really don't think he has acted manly."

"Not so fast, my little woman, if you please--that is the way with almost all of you, you let your hearts run away with your heads. You are unjust to Blatchford; he could not help himself, he was completely in their power. It is almost impossible at present to procure workmen in our business, and he is under contract to finish a large amount of work within a specified time; and if he should fail to fulfil his agreement it would subject him to immense loss--in fact, it would entirely ruin him. You are aware, my dear, that I am thoroughly acquainted with the state of his affairs; he is greatly in debt from unfortunate speculations, and a false step just now would overset him completely; he could not have done otherwise than he has, and do justice to himself and his family. I felt that he could not; and in fact advised him to act as he did."

"Now, George Burrell, you didn't," said she, reproachfully.

"Yes I did, my dear, because I thought of his family; I really believe though, had I encouraged him, he would have made the sacrifice."

"And what became of the boy?"

"Oh; poor lad, he seemed very much cut down by it--I was quite touched by his grief. When I came out, I found him standing by a shop window crying bitterly. I tried to pacify him, and told him I would endeavour to obtain a situation for him somewhere--and I shall."

"Has he parents?" asked Mrs. Burrell.

"Yes; and, by the way, don't you remember whilst the mob was raging last summer, we read an account of a man running to the roof of a house to escape from the rioters? You remember they chopped his hands off and threw him over?"