Try Again; Or, the Trials and Triumphs of Harry West. A Story for Young FolksOptic, Oliver
General
Try Again; Or, the Trials and Triumphs of Harry West. A Story for Young Folks
Optic, Oliver
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Orphans -- Juvenile fiction
"I hope we shall be able to pay you back all the money you have spent;
but I don't know. Joseph has got so bad, I don't know what he is
coming to. He is a good-hearted man. He always uses me well, even when
he is in liquor. Nothing but drink could make him neglect us so."
"It is a hard case, marm," added Harry.
"Very hard; he hasn't done much of anything for us this winter. I have
been out to work every day till a fortnight ago, when I got sick and
couldn't do anything. Katy has kept us alive since then; she is a good
girl, and takes the whole care of Tommy and Susan."
"Poor girl! It is a pity she is so lame."
"I don't mind that, if I only had things to do with," said Katy, who
was busy disposing of the provisions which Harry had bought.
As soon as the kettle boiled, she made tea, and prepared a little
toast for her mother, who, however, was too sick to take much
nourishment.
"Now, Katy, you must eat yourself," interposed Harry, when all was
ready.
"I can't eat," replied the poor girl, bursting into tears. "I don't
feel hungry."
"You must eat."
Just then the children in the trundle bed, disturbed by the unusual
bustle in the room, waked, and gazed with wonder at Harry, who had
seated himself on the bed.
"Poor Susy!" exclaimed Katy; "she has waked up. And Tommy, too! They
shall have their supper, now."
They were taken up; and Harry's eyes were gladdened by such a sight as
he had never beheld before. The hungry ate; and every mouthful they
took swelled the heart of the little almoner of God's bounty. If the
thought of Julia Bryant, languishing on a bed of sickness, had not
marred his satisfaction, he had been perfectly happy. But he was
doing a deed that would rejoice her heart; he was doing just what she
had done for him; he was doing just what she would have done, if she
had been there.
"She hoped he would be a good boy." His conscience told him he had
been a good boy--that he had been true to himself, and true to the
noble example she had set before him.
While the family were still at supper, Harry, lighting another candle,
went down cellar to pay his respects to those big logs. He was a stout
boy, and accustomed to the use of the axe. By slow degrees he chipped
off the logs, until they were used up, and a great pile of serviceable
wood was before him. Not content with this, he carried up several
large armfuls of it, which he deposited by the fireplace in the room.
"Now, marm, I don't know as I can do anything more for you to-night,"
said he, moving towards the door.
"The Lord knows you have done enough," replied the poor woman. "I hope
we shall be able to pay you for what you have done."
"I don't want anything, marm."
"If we can't pay you, the Lord will reward you."
"I am paid enough already. I hope you will get better, marm."
"I hope so. I feel better to-night than I have felt before for a
week."
"Good night, marm! Good night, Katy!" And Harry hurried back to the
stable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account