I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of SuccessRoe, A. S. (Azel Stevens)
General
I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of Success
Roe, A. S. (Azel Stevens)
Conduct of life -- Fiction; Diligence -- Fiction; Success -- Fiction
'Are you? you look a good deal like it.' And he cast his eye down at
Sam, surveying him from head to foot. This was more than he could bear;
his heart beat quick, his face reddened; he could not then have asked a
favour of that old withered wretch, had it been to save himself or his
family from certain ruin. He put his money and jewel back again into his
pocket, picked up his hat from the bench on which he had laid it, and
turning his back on the store and its owner, hurried away, wishing that
he might never see either again.
The building used for the graceless evil-doers and penniless paupers of
this vicinity was not a very sightly object, and its appearance was in
keeping with its hideous character. It was a square, two-storied
building, without any paint; the clapboards and roof were gray and
mossy; storms and sunshine had played upon it for fifty years; and it
was none the better for its age. In the upper story could be seen one
room, with a small window at the end, with iron bars crossing
sufficiently near together to keep a prisoner from getting through, if
he was somewhat corpulent; but most rogues and poor men, that were not
very stout, could, if so disposed, have found a way out with a little
hard squeezing. But whether any did ever get out in that way I never
learned--perhaps the sight of the iron was enough. The other apartments
of the house had windows open as one could desire; glass may once have
formed some obstruction, to the birds at least; but it had disappeared
'long time ago,' and in that place thereof, shingles, old hats, old
clothes--any thing that would keep out the rain and the cold for the
time being, was substituted. It was inhabited by a family, which, for
want of all those qualities and qualifications that would have fitted
them for any other situation, were content to abide here. Old Adam Tice
had never been able to comprehend the difference between mine and thine.
He was not particularly bad in any other way; but it was generally
thought that his boys would, in time, carry out his principles a little
beyond their parent; and his son Bill, whom we have been introduced to
at Mr. Grizzle's, had, on more than one occasion, enjoyed the occupancy
of the room with the grated window.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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