Through the mill: The life of a mill-boyBrown, Frederic Kenyon
Philosophy
Through the mill: The life of a mill-boy
Brown, Frederic Kenyon
Child labor -- United States; Cotton manufacture -- United States; Textile workers -- United States
Then our collateral had to go, a piece at a time. Bob, the one-eyed
horse, friend of those early years, harnessed to his cart, brought in
some money with which we could buy a little fresh stock which I tried
to peddle in a hand-cart. But I could not get around very skilfully,
and as I trudged over the same route where previously my uncle had gone
with his humorous shout of “Mussels alive! Buy ’em alive!” people did
not trade with me, but pitied me, and stroked my head in sympathy. When
the stock was gone, and it was soon gone, my aunt thought that she had
better give up the fight and sell out at auction!
By this time winter was full on us. There were snow and dismal winds
which made lonely sounds down our chimney. Old Torvey, the town-crier,
was called in for a consultation, and the auction definitely planned.
The following Saturday, in the morning, while the housewives were
busy polishing their fenders, Old Torvey, clanging his hand-bell with
great unction, came up the middle of the road, stopping at strategic
points, and when the aproned housewives and their children stood
at their doors alert, he solemnly announced, in his sing-song way:
“To--be--sold--at--Public--Auction--this--day--at--two--in--the--
afternoon--all--the--stock--in--trade--of--Stanwood--Brindin--at--
his--shop--at--the--head--of--Station--Road--together--with--all--
the--movable--fixtures--therein--and--any--other--items--not--herein--
mentioned--Sale--to--begin--sharply--on--time--and--goods--to--go--to--
the--highest--bidder--Terms--cash--and--all--bids--welcomed--Come--one--
and--all--Two--in--the--afternoon. Now--get--back--to--your--cleaning--
before--your--chaps--get--whom!”--this last as a sally for the women,
“whom” meaning “home.”
All the afternoon, while the auction was in session, aunt and I sat
in the parlor of our house, behind the flower-pots, watching all who
went in. Aunt kept up a running commentary: “Yes, you go in, too,
Jane Harrup. You wouldn’t come near me to buy, would you? Um, that
blood-sucker, Thompson! What a crowd of vampires a sale can bring out!
I didn’t think that you were looking for bargains from us, Martin
Comfort. It’s beyond me how folks do gather when you are down!”
Then, when the last of the curious crowd had gone and the shop had
passed from our control, there came anxious shopmen demanding the
settlement of their bills. And when the last item had been paid there
was hardly a shilling left. We had merely succeeded in settling the
honor of our house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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