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
“Hannah is the one to be inconvenienced, if anyone. I had a little
conversation with her while you were getting ready for dinner. She seems
to have taken a liking for you, though she doesn’t like boys generally.
As for me, it will make the home brighter to have a young person in it.
Hannah and I are old-fashioned and quiet, and the neighbors don’t have
much reason to complain of noise.”
“No, sir; I should think not,” said Carl, with a smile.
“There is one thing you must be prepared for, Carl,” said Mr. Jennings,
after a pause.
“What is that, sir?”
“Your living in my house--I being your employer--may excite jealousy in
some. I think I know of one who will be jealous.”
“Leonard Craig?”
“And his uncle. However, don’t borrow any trouble on that score. I hope
you won’t take advantage of your position, and, thinking yourself a
favorite, neglect your duties.”
“I will not, sir.”
“Business and friendship ought to be kept apart.”
“That is right, sir.”
“I am going back to the house, but you may like to take a walk about
the village. You will feel interested in it, as it is to be your future
home. By the way, it may be well for you to write for your trunk. You
can order it sent to my house.”
“All right, sir; I will do so.”
He went to the post office, and, buying a postal card, wrote to his
friend, Gilbert Vance, as follows:
“Dear Gilbert:--Please send my trunk by express to me at Milford, care
of Henry Jennings, Esq. He is my employer, and I live at his house. He
is proprietor of a furniture factory. Will write further particulars
soon.
“Carl Crawford.”
This postal carried welcome intelligence to Gilbert, who felt a
brotherly interest in Carl. He responded by a letter of hearty
congratulation, and forwarded the trunk as requested.
Carl reported for duty the next morning, and, though a novice, soon
showed that he was not without mechanical skill.
At twelve o’clock all the factory hands had an hour off for dinner. As
Carl passed into the street he found himself walking beside the boy whom
he had succeeded--Leonard Craig.
“Good-morning, Leonard,” said Carl, pleasantly.
“Good-morning. Have you taken my place in the factory?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you shall like it?”
“I think I shall, though, of course, it is rather early to form an
opinion.”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to grow up a workman. I think I am fit for something
better.”
“Mr. Jennings began as a factory hand.”
“I suppose he had a taste for it. I haven’t.”
“Then you like your present position better?”
“Oh, yes; it’s more genteel. How much does Jennings pay you?”
“Two dollars a week and board.”
“How is that? Where do you board?”
“With him.”
“Oh!” said Leonard, his countenance changing. “So you are a favorite
with the boss, are you?”
“I don’t know. He gave me warning that he should be just as strict with
me as if we were strangers.”
“How long have you known him?”
Carl smiled.
“I met him for the first time yesterday,” he answered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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