The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras and Other Stories — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras and Other Stories
John Stuart Mill · en
"No," said Clarence, "I can't print all day and every day and not feel
any cents in my pocket. I want peanuts and candy and I want to give the
boys a treat, too, now and then. That's what I am going to print for,
after we have got these new fonts."
"Well, you can do as you please, I sha'n't try such things. I shall keep
my money for type and cards. We needn't quarrel yet till we have more
money."
Clarence did not feel easy. Pete had shown more energy, patience and
neatness than he thought was right under the circumstances, though what
the circumstances were, he confessed to himself he did not know; and he
summed up the whole offence, when he was speaking of the affairs of the
concern to other boys, by saying, "O, Pete's getting too proud."
After the new type was bought, the following order was received for
twenty-five postal card notices:
THE
Q. F. U.
will hold its tenth peripatetic occasion at 42 degrees 25 seconds North
Latitude 65 degrees 15 minutes 20 seconds West Longitude on the 10th
instant.
This was a very important order, requiring great care, received from an
older boy, a member of a secret society. Most obscure it seemed to the
firm. Clarence insisted on printing it in plain English and on setting
up in type: "A Walking match will take place, etc. etc." Pete thought
they had no right to argue about the matter, simply to do what was
ordered.
"I should not mind it so much if they would not have such long words;
and we shall have to buy special marks for degrees, minutes, and
seconds--charge extra on that. But peripatetic--I didn't agree to print
such nonsense," said Clarence. "If we are going to do it I am going to
be quick about it and set it all up except the marks and see how it
looks."
He was in such a hurry that he set the type wrong three times. At last
"peripatetic" was right, but no space was left for the right number of
leads. Rejecting Pete's help, he lifted a row of type to make room, did
not hold it tight enough, the middle sank down, fell out and the line
went to pieces.
"I say now," he exclaimed, "I didn't do that--you did it--it did itself.
I never made 'a pie' in all my life, and see here, I won't have it said
that I made one now."
"I have made them lots of times," calmly said Pete.
"You! O yes! I dare say you have. But I never did, and that's why the
other boys want me in their business."
"What business? I would not get so excited just because of this pie."
"You would if your reputation depended on it."
"Why, I won't tell."
"But the other firms will have to know it; our honor is pledged to tell
whenever such a thing happens to any one of us."
"Are you in other business? Shel said you were, when he wanted us to
take him in, and I said you were _not_. That's the end of it. If you are
any one's else partner, you can't be mine, pie or no pie."
"Very well. Just as you please, you can take Shel. You always put on too
much ink and that wastes capital."