Horatio Alger - Jed, the Poorhouse Boy

"May I ask if you are a business man?" remarked Fogson.

"My business is acting. I belong to the Gold King Company, which is to play at Duncan to-night."

"Indeed!" said Mrs. Fogson, with a glance of curiosity. "I never saw an actor before."

"I am sorry you should see such an unworthy representative of the Thespian art. If we were to play in Scranton, it would give me pleasure to offer you and Mr. Fogson complimentary tickets."

"I wish you were to play here," said Mrs. Fogson in a tone of regret. "I haven't seen a play for five years."

"I suppose you couldn't come to Duncan?"

"No; we could not be spared. Besides, we have no horse and carriage," said Fogson. "We must wait till you perform in Scranton."

Jed was very much relieved to hear this remark, for it would have interfered with his own plans if Mr. and Mrs. Fogson had accepted an invitation to witness the play at Duncan.

"Is it a good paying business?" asked Mr. Fogson.

"Well, so so. My salary is fifty dollars a week."

"You don't say so!" exclaimed Fogson in envious surprise. "You ought to lay up money."

"It seems so, but in the summer we generally have a long vacation. Besides, we have to pay our hotel bills; so that, after all, we don't have as much left as you would suppose. Besides, we have to buy our costumes, and some of them are quite expensive."

In spite of these drawbacks the Fogsons evidently looked upon Bertram as a wealthy young man.

At length they rose from the table. Jed had never before eaten such a meal since he entered the poorhouse, and he felt in a degree envious of Mr. and Mrs. Fogson, who probably fared thus every day. When he considered, however, how they nearly starved the poor people of whom they had charge he felt indignant, and could not help wishing that some time they might exchange places with the unfortunate paupers.

He went out to the yard again, and resumed his work at the woodpile. Harry Bertram strolled out and lazily watched him.

"I suppose you never did work of this kind, Mr. Bertram?" said Jed.

"Oh yes, I lived for nearly a year with an aunt who required me to prepare all the wood for the kitchen stove. I can tell you one thing, though, I did not enjoy it, and when I left her I retired forever from that line of business."

"Are you going to stay in Scranton to-day?"

"No; I must be getting over to Duncan. We have taken on a new actor and shall be obliged to have a rehearsal. Will you go along with me?"

"I should like to, but it would only get me into trouble. I will start about four o'clock, and go over to Dr. Redmond's to get the suit of clothes he promised me."

"I suppose you won't have to take a trunk of clothes from here?"

"About all the clothes I own are on my back. If I leave any behind me, anyone is welcome to them."

"Do you think there will be any difficulty in your getting away?"

"I think I can slip off without being noticed."

"Do you think they will go after you?"

"They might if they suspected where I was going."

"Then I shall have to help you. Join me at the theatre, and it will go hard if, between us, we cannot foil the enemy."

"Thank you, Mr. Bertram. You are a real friend."

"Some people say I am everybody's friend but my own. You can judge for yourself about that when you know me better."

Harry Bertram walked off whistling, and Jed was left to his reflections. It is needless to say that he felt in an excited mood, for it seemed to him that he had come to a turning-point in his life. As far back as he could remember he had been an inmate of the Scranton poorhouse.

When Mr. and Mrs. Avery were in charge he had not minded this much, such was the kindness with which he was treated by those good people. But when, through the influence of Squire Dixon, they were removed and Mr. and Mrs. Fogson put in their place he began to feel the bitterness of his position. The three months which had passed since then seemed to him like so many years. But now he had resolved, once for all, to end his thralldom, and go out into the great world and see what he could do for himself.

Circumstances favored him.

About half-past three Mr. Fogson called him down.

"I want you to go to Squire Dixon's and carry this letter," he said.

Jed's heart leaped with joy. It at once occurred to him that Squire Dixon lived only about twenty rods from Dr. Redmond, and that he could call at the doctor's house after doing his errand.

"Is there any answer?" he asked.

"No; I have asked the squire to call here this evening, if he can. He is the overseer, and I wish to consult him."

"Very well, sir."

Jed took the letter, glad that no answer would be required. Even if there had been, he would have neglected to bring it, for he could not afford to throw away this chance of escape.

The distance from the poorhouse to Squire Dixon's residence was about three-quarters of a mile. Jed covered it in less than fifteen minutes.

In the front yard Percy Dixon was strutting about with the airy consequence habitual to him.

"What brings you here?" he asked rudely.

"I've come with a note for your father. After I've delivered it I will stop a little while and play with you if you want me to."

"You needn't trouble yourself. I don't care to play with paupers."

"Don't call me that again, Percy Dixon!" said Jed, his patience worn out.

"What will happen if I do?" demanded Percy tauntingly.

"I may be obliged to give you a thrashing."

Percy Dixon's face flushed with resentment.

"Do you know who you are talking to?" he demanded.

"Yes," answered Jed coolly. "I am talking to a boy who thinks a great deal more of himself than any one else does."

"I would punish you, but I don't want to dirty my hands with you. I'll tell my father, and he'll see that old Fogson flogs you."

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