Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience — John Shaqi
Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's ExperienceAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Didactic fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Juvenile fiction; Runaway teenagers -- Juvenile fiction
“Then I shall be left alone,” thought Carl regretfully.
Just then a man overtook them in a carriage.
He greeted Mr. Jennings respectfully.
“Are you out for a long walk?” he said.
“Yes, but I find time is passing too rapidly with me. Are you going to
Milford?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can you take two passengers?”
“You and the boy?”
“Yes; of course I will see that you don’t lose by it.”
“I ought not to charge you anything, Mr. Jennings. Several times you
have done me favors.”
“And I hope to again, but this is business. If a dollar will pay you,
the boy and I will ride with you.”
“It will be so much gain, as I don’t go out of my way.”
“You can take the back seat, Carl,” said Mr. Jennings. “I will sit with
Mr. Leach.”
They were soon seated and on their way.
“Relative of yours, Mr. Jennings?” asked Leach, with a backward glance
at Carl.
Like most country folks, he was curious about people. Those who live in
cities meet too many of their kind to feel an interest in strangers.
“No; a young friend,” answered Jennings, briefly.
“Goin’ to visit you?”
“Yes, I think he will stay with me for a time.”
Then the conversation touched upon Milford matters in which at present
Carl was not interested.
After his fatiguing walk our hero enjoyed the sensation of riding. The
road was a pleasant one, the day was bright with sunshine and the
air vocal with the songs of birds. For a time houses were met at
rare intervals, but after a while it became evident that they were
approaching a town of considerable size.
“Is this Milford, Mr. Jennings?” asked Carl.
“Yes,” answered the little man, turning with a pleasant smile.
“How large is it?”
“I think there are twelve thousand inhabitants. It is what Western
people call a ‘right smart place.’ It has been my home for twenty years,
and I am much attached to it.”
“And it to you, Mr. Jennings,” put in the driver.
“That is pleasant to hear,” said Jennings, with a smile.
“It is true. There are few people here whom you have not befriended.”
“That is what we are here for, is it not?”
“I wish all were of your opinion. Why, Mr. Jennings, when we get a city
charter I think I know who will be the first mayor.”
“Not I, Mr. Leach. My own business is all I can well attend to. Thank
you for your compliment, though. Carl, do you see yonder building?”
He pointed to a three-story structure, a frame building, occupying a
prominent position.
“Yes, sir.”
“That is my manufactory. What do you think of it?”
“I shouldn’t think a town of this size would require so large an
establishment,” answered Carl.
Mr. Jennings laughed.
“You are right,” he said. “If I depended on Milford trade, a very small
building would be sufficient. My trade is outside. I supply many dealers
in New York City and at the West. My retail trade is small. If any of my
neighbors want furniture they naturally come to me, and I favor them as
to price out of friendly feeling, but I am a manufacturer and wholesale
dealer.”
“I see, sir.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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