Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Heroes -- Juvenile fiction; Orphans -- Juvenile fiction; Shipwrecks -- Juvenile fiction
“It struck me that I needed a boy about your size, and character, for
a general assistant, to sell tickets, take money, and help me on the
stage. How do you like the idea?”
“I like it,” answered Harry; “but there is one objection.”
“What is that?”
“I don’t come from Madagascar,” responded Harry, slyly.
Professor Hemenway laughed.
“You’ve been as near there as I have,” he said. “Did you really think
I came from Madagascar?”
“You look more as if you came from Maine, sir.”
“You’ve hit it! There’s where I did come from. I was raised
twenty-five miles from Portland on a farm. But it would never do to
put that on the bills. People are ready to pay more for imported than
for native curiosities. However, to come to business. I had a young
man traveling with me who wasn’t suited to the business. He was a
dry-goods clerk when I took him, and is better adapted to that
business than to mine. He left me last week, and I have been in a
quandary about his successor. How much do you consider your time
worth?”
“Just at present it isn’t worth much. If you will pay my traveling
expenses, that will satisfy me.”
“I will do better than that I will give you five dollars a week
besides, if business is good.”
“Thank you, sir. I think I shall enjoy traveling.”
There are few boys who do not like change of scene, and the chance of
seeing new places is attractive to all. Harry was decidedly of the
opinion that he had a streak of luck. It would be much better in all
ways than living with his late guardian, and working for partial
board.
As they approached the village of Conway, Harry’s attention was drawn
to a variety of posters setting forth, in mammoth letters, that the
world-renowned Magician of Madagascar would give a magical _soiree_ at
the Town Hall in the evening. Tickets, fifteen cents; children under
twelve years, ten cents. The posters, furthermore, attracted attention
by a large figure of the professor, dressed in bizarre style,
performing one of his tricks.
“That draws attention,” observed the professor, “particularly among
the boys. I think I shall have a hall full this evening. An audience
of three hundred will pay very well. My expenses are light. I do most
of my traveling in this wagon, and at hotels I get the usual
professional reduction.”
“Did it take you long to learn the business?”
“I have been learning all along. Every now and then I add a new
trick. I will teach you some.”
“I might leave you and set up on my own hook when I have learned,”
suggested Harry, with a smile.
“It will be some time before you look old enough for a magician. When
you are, I’ll give you my blessing and send you out.”
Meanwhile they had been jogging along, and were already in the main
street of Conway. The professor drew up in front of the village hotel,
and a groom came forward and took his horse.
“Wait a minute my friend,” said the professor. “Harry, you can help me
take my implements out of the back of the wagon.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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