The Hand-Made Gentleman: A Tale of the Battles of PeaceBacheller, Irving
History
The Hand-Made Gentleman: A Tale of the Battles of Peace
Bacheller, Irving
United States -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
I asked Sam and his bride to say nothing of my adventure in Summerville,
and bade them goodbye at the depot, and went on my way to a new school
of experience.
ADVENTURE XI.--IN WHICH CRICKET MEETS THE HAND-MADE GENTLEMAN AND THE
PEARL OF GREAT PRICE
[Illustration: 9126]
RAHAM'S hotel was near the depot, as I asked my way of an officer, and
he went with me. At the desk I inquired timidly for my friend.
“Mr. James Henry McCarthy is here,” the clerk answered, with a smile.
“He is making the homes of this city bright and beautiful, Wish to see
him?”
“Yes,” I answered.
He called a colored youth, and sent word to Mr. McCarthy. The colored
youth returned presently, and said:
“Mr. McCarthy says, 'Please ask the gentleman to send up his card.'”
I wrote my name on a card, and in a few minutes presented myself at Mr.
McCarthy's door.
“I am pleased to see you,” said he, with dignity. “Come in.”
He was well dressed in new clothing.
“How are you?” I inquired.
“How do I look?” he asked, promptly.
“Splendid,” was my answer.
“That suit cost me twenty-one dollars,” he remarked, with a glance at
himself. “Feel of the cloth.”
I did as he bade me.
“Isn't this a grand room?” he went on. “I guess you must have thought
that I was getting along in the world when you were asked to send up
your card to Mr. McCarthy.”
He laughed, and rattled his change.
“Will you have a cigar?” he asked, removing two from his
waistcoat-pocket.
“I do not smoke.”
“Nor I,” said he, “but I carry them for the sake of appearances.”
“How is business?”
“Grand,” said he. “I have six men at work for me, and have started a
little factory at home. My sister makes Sal, and the agents buy it from
us, and so we have no bother. We ship it in crates, like a lot of eggs,
and each ball is neatly wrapped and all ready for the customer. I am
also beginning the manufacture of soap.”
I expressed my delight over his good-fortune.
“How are you getting along?” he asked.
I told him the story of my failure.
“There's the trouble,” said Mr. McCarthy. “A green hand is apt to slip
down making the goods.=
````"'There's many a fall
`````'Twixt the powder and ball,'=
as ye might say. That's why I started the factory.”
I paid my debt to him.
“Are you going to take out another line of goods?” he asked.
“No; I'm going home,” was my answer. “I'll write to you if I decide to
try it again.”
“Maybe you need this money to get home with,” he suggested, in a
careless and opulent manner.
“No; I have enough,” was my answer.
“Sit down, an' le' 's have a little visit,” said he. “I like you, an'
by-an'-by I'll take you out an' show you the sights. I want to treat you
as one gentleman would treat another. Have you noticed that I don't say
'ain't' for 'isn't' or 'them' for 'those' any more?”
“I notice that you speak very properly,” I assured him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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