The Call of the Town: A Tale of Literary Life — John Shaqi
The Call of the Town: A Tale of Literary LifeHammerton, J. A. (John Alexander)
General
The Call of the Town: A Tale of Literary Life
Hammerton, J. A. (John Alexander)
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Journalists -- Fiction
"I mean to study very hard, get up my shorthand, and to write as much as
ever I can when I join the staff. But of course I shan't stay in
Wheelton all my life. There's better papers than the _Guardian_, you
know."
"That's the true spirit, lad; always look ahead. If I hadn't been
looking ahead all these years, where would the twenty-five pounds ha'
come from, and the money that's to keep you for the next six months?"
"I'm sure I don't know what could have been done without it. I don't
think opportunities are as plentiful as we are told."
Henry had learned a little since that day he rode to Stratford with the
carrier.
"Didn't think much of the office, though. Did you, 'Enry?"
"No," he admitted somewhat unwillingly, "it wasn't so fine as I had
expected; but perhaps it is as good as they need."
"And nobody needs anythink better than that," which summed up in a
sentence Edward John's philosophy of life and the secret of his
financial soundness.
The few days remaining to Henry in Stratford went past all too slowly,
despite the jubilation of Mr. Trevor Smith at the success of his
promising _protege_, and Henry's application to the study of shorthand,
with which most of his time at the book-shop had been occupied of late.
Mr. Griggs and Pemble he left without a pang, the former still concerned
about his poultry, and the latter still cultivating his moustache; but
he was sorry to say good-bye to Mrs. Filbert and the irrepressible
Trevor, who would have made the success of his proposal an excuse to
borrow a fourth half-crown, were it not that the memory of the unpaid
three had better not be reawakened when Henry was going away.
His journey to Wheelton found him with hopes scarcely so high as those
he had cherished on his way to Stratford some three months before, but
he was at least fortified with some measure of that common sense which
only rises in the mind as the illusions of youth begin to sink.
It was not thought necessary for him to revisit Hampton Bagot before
removing to Wheelton--his face was still turned away from home. Thus far
he had been marking time merely; but now he was on the march in
earnest.
CHAPTER VII
AMONG NEW FRIENDS
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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