Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's FortunesAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Juvenile fiction; Irish Americans -- Juvenile fiction
They had now entered the schoolroom, and Andy took up his book and
studied hard. He was determined to rise to a higher class as soon as
possible, for it was not agreeable to him to reflect that he was the
oldest and largest boy in his present class.
"Very well," said the teacher, when his recitation was over. "If you
continue to recite in this way, you will soon be promoted."
"I'll do my best, sir," said Andy, who listened to these words with
pleasure.
"I wish you were coming in the afternoon, too, Andy," said his friend,
Charlie Fleming, as they walked home together.
"So do I, Charlie, but I must work for my mother."
"That's right, Andy; I'd do the same in your place. I haven't such
foolish ideas about work as Godfrey Preston."
"He ain't very fond of me," said Andy, laughing.
"No; nor of anybody else. He only likes Godfrey Preston."
"We got into a fight the first day I ever saw him."
"What was it about?"
"He called my mother names, and hit me. So I knocked him flat."
"You served him right. He's disgustingly conceited. Nobody likes him."
"Ben Travers goes around with him all the time."
"Ben likes him because he is rich. If he should lose his property,
you'd see how soon he would leave him. That isn't a friend worth
having."
"I've got one consolation," said Andy, laughing; "nobody likes me for
my money."
"But someone likes you for yourself, Andy," said Charlie.
"Who?"
"Myself, to be sure."
"And I like you as much, Charlie," said Andy, warmly. "You're ten
times as good a fellow as Godfrey."
"I hope so," said Charlie. "That isn't saying very much, Andy."
So the friendship was cemented, nor did it end there. Charlie spoke of
Andy's good qualities at home, and some time afterward Andy was
surprised by an invitation to spend the evening at Dr. Fleming's. He
felt a little bashful, but finally went--nor was he at all sorry for
so doing. The whole family was a delightful one, and Andy was welcomed
as a warm friend of Charlie's, and, in the pleasant atmosphere of the
doctor's fireside, he quite forgot that there was one who looked down
upon him as an inferior being.
Dr. Fleming had himself been a poor boy. By a lucky chance--or
Providence, rather--he had been put in the way of obtaining an
education, and he was not disposed now, in his prosperity, to forget
his days of early struggle.
Andy found that, in spite of the three hours taken up at school, he
was able to do all that was required of him by the Misses Grant. They
were glad to hear of his success at school, and continued to pay him
five dollars a week for his services. This money he regularly carried
to his mother, after paying for the new clothes, of which he stood so
much in need.
CHAPTER XII
A LITTLE DIFFICULTY
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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