The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras and Other StoriesMiller, Joaquin
Philosophy
The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras and Other Stories
Miller, Joaquin
United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Hal's active imagination instantly saw himself seated there as Judge.
Yes, law was his vocation. But when there, he was almost pushed into a
corner, while Mr. Bryce pointed him out to the clerk of the court. This
rather frightened Hal, but he felt reassured at the command to stay
where he was until the clerk should bid him go for Mr. Bryce, for the
latter could not afford to spend the morning in court waiting for his
case to come up.
It was a new world to Hal and his astonishment and interest was
increased as he recognized an old playmate in the one who was being
examined. An officer had removed the boy's jacket and was calling the
attention of the Judge to long, deep welts on the boy's back, the result
of lashes inflicted by his father, because his son earned but little.
The contents of a dirty paper-bag were also exhibited, as being the only
dinner allowed the boy, who, with his mouldy crust, walked three miles
each day to the shop where he worked. That very morning he had been so
dull, that some one, suspecting the truth, had told "the boss" of his
condition, and through an officer of the "Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Children," his case had been brought into court.
Poor Hal! perhaps he was born to be a philanthropist after all. He
resolved to interest himself in the S. P. C. C. Visions of "cases"
hunted out and brought before the officers, thrilled his soul. How he
ached for this particular boy! and how he contrived to make that boy
feel he was there and to tuck some lozenges into his hand, as his former
companion passed by him under the kind guardianship of the Secretary of
the Society; and then the clerk ordered him to find Mr. Bryce.
The next day, when he was summoned to Mr. Bryce's inner office, from
dreams of himself as the eminent legal adviser and prosecutor for the S.
P. C. C., that gentleman asked him rather quizzically how he liked
"court business." Hal replied that he did not know surely, but guessed
he might come to prefer it to office work and cataloguing.
"Well," said Mr. Bryce, "I am rather sorry to hear that, for I had
thought of raising your wages. However, I am doubtful about employing
essayists as office-boys. It might work badly."
"Has it, sir?" he asked; then in an embarrassed manner, "I am not
certain what you mean."
The lawyer made no reply, and Hal turned away crestfallen.
"O come back here, boy," called out Mr. Bryce then. "And by the way, can
you tell me who is Nisus Sum?"
Harry wriggled with conflicting sensations until he could scarcely
stand. At last he burst out: "What is that to you?"
"O not much!" replied Mr. Bryce, with an amused look, "only I hold an
essay to return to him."
Hal grew so white that his employer pitied him, and forebore.
"You did not know I was chairman of the committee on the Old South
Prizes, did you?" he added in a different tone.
"No, sir, I did not;" exclaimed Hal, flushing to his very temples.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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