Young Oliver: or the Thoughtless Boy. A TaleAnonymous
General
Young Oliver: or the Thoughtless Boy. A Tale
Anonymous
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
Young Oliver made a quick progress in the trade. In five years he
could work as well as any in the shop. In joiner's shops there are
many apprentices and journeymen. Some of them were of a thoughtless
disposition, and much inclined to frequent alehouses. Young Oliver
had little money; he could not indulge his inclination to go with
them, so often as they wanted to persuade him. His master allowed him
to work what is called over-hours, by which means he gained a little
pocket-money. Thus the time passed, till his term of servitude was at
an end.
He now wished for nothing so much as to become a master; but he wanted
money.
[Illustration: (church)]
A merchant, hard by, had often seen the young man, for he had done
him some work in a very neat manner. He knew he was remarkably
industrious, and attended church regularly. Oliver heard he was a
worthy man, and did all the good he could, to any person who stood in
need and whom he thought deserving. Oliver mustered courage enough to
wait on him. He stated his case, mentioned his wishes to begin trade,
and asked for assistance. The merchant lent him one hundred pounds to
begin business.
You may guess at Oliver's joy. He had the money in his pocket. It
never contained so much before. He thought he had already a work-shop
of his own and some journeymen. He began to reckon how many customers
came to order goods, and what money he should have at the end of the
year.
In the midst of these emotions of joy, he met an old fellow-workman.
An alehouse was at hand. "Come," said Oliver, as they both entered it,
"I will, for once, have a little pleasure out of a purse of money I
have in my pocket. I will spend six-pence."
He did not well know whether to call for punch. It was his favourite
liquor. He thought it was too soon to give way to enjoyment. Reason
suggested to him, he should, first of all, try to pay back what the
good merchant had lent him. At present, thought he, it is not honest
for me to lay out a penny of the money, for any thing not necessary.
These notions impressed him so strongly, he was ready to return.
His companion now asked him what he stood moping there for. "Come, sit
down," said he. "What shall we have to drink?" Oliver was diverted
from thinking more, and called for six-pennyworth of punch. He
thought to himself, if I spend six-pence of the money I shall have
ninety-nine pounds, nineteen shillings, and six-pence left. Such a sum
is enough to set up trade, and a single hour's industry will make up
again such a small expence as the present.
It was thus, taking up the glass, he sought to quiet his inward
scruples; but alas, this conduct opened to him a door for ruin.
On the morrow he recollected what agreeable chat and good liquor he
had at the alehouse. It filled his mind; and he was not scrupulous
about spending one shilling more. The alehouse was near; he again
stepped in. He tried wine. He had never drank any before. He liked it
exceedingly, and determined to have a pint more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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