Horatio Alger - Joe the Hotel Boy; Or, Winning out by Pluck

“Come,” said the wife. “What will ye take?”

“As it’s you, I’ll take off twenty-five cents,” replied the clerk.

“And sell it to me for two dollars?” inquired his customer, who had good cause for her inaccurate arithmetic.

“For two dollars and seventy-five cents.”

“Two dollars and seventy-five cents! It’s taking the bread out of the childer’s mouths you’d have us, paying such a price as that! I’ll give you two twenty-five, an’ I’ll be coming again some time.”

“We couldn’t take so low as two twenty-five, ma’am. You may have it for two dollars and a half.”

After another ineffectual attempt to get it for two dollars and a quarter, the Irish woman finally offered two dollars and forty-five cents, and this offer was accepted.

She pulled out a paper of change and counted out two dollars and forty cents, when she declared that she had not another cent. But the clerk understood her game and coolly proceeded to put the coat back on the pile. Then the woman very opportunely found another five-cent piece stored away in the corner of her pocket.

“It’s robbin’ me, ye are,” said she as she paid it over.

“Oh, no, ma’am, you are getting a great bargain,” answered the clerk.

Joe had witnessed the bargaining with a good deal of quiet amusement. As soon as the Irish couple had gone the clerk came toward the boy.

“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” he asked, pleasantly.

“I want a suit of clothing. Not an expensive suit, but one guaranteed to be all wool.”

“A light or a dark suit?”

“A dark gray.”

“I can fit you out in a fine suit of this order,” and the clerk pointed to several lying in a heap nearby.

“I don’t want that sort. I want something on the order of those in the window marked nine dollars and a half.”

“Oh, all right.”

Several suits were brought forth, and one was found that fitted Joe exceedingly well.

“You guarantee this to be all wool?” asked the boy.

“Every thread of it.”

“Then I’ll take it.”

“Very well; the price is twelve dollars.”

“Isn’t it like that in the window?”

“On that order, but a trifle better.”

“It seems to me to be about the same suit. I’ll give you nine dollars and a half.”

“I can’t take it. I’ll give it to you for eleven and a half. That is our best figure.”

“Then I’ll go elsewhere for a suit,” answered Joe, and started to leave the clothing establishment.

“Hold on, don’t be so fast!” cried the clerk, catching him by the arm. “I’ll make it eleven and a quarter.”

“Not a cent more than the advertised price, nine and a half,” replied Joe, firmly.

“Oh, but this isn’t the same suit.”

“It’s just like it, to my eye. But you needn’t sell it for that if you don’t want it. Mason & Harris are offering some bargains, I believe.”

“You can get a better bargain here than anywhere in this town, or in Philadelphia either,” answered the clerk, who did not intend to let his prospective customer get away. “We’ll make it an even eleven dollars and say no more about it.”

Instead of answering Joe started once more for the door.

“Hold on!”

“I haven’t got time.”

“Make it ten and a half. At that price we are losing exactly half a dollar on that suit.”

“Not a cent over what I offered.”

“We can’t sell suits at such a loss. It would ruin us.”

“Then don’t do it. I think Mason & Harris have some good suits very cheap. And they are quite up-to-date, too,” added Joe.

“Our suits are the best in town, young man. Take this one for an even ten dollar bill.”

“I will if you’ll throw in one of those half dollar caps,” answered our hero.

“Well, have your own way, but it’s a sacrifice,” grumbled the clerk.

He wanted to wrap up the suit, but, afraid he might substitute something else, Joe insisted upon donning the suit then and there and likewise the new cap. Then he had the old articles of wearing apparel done up into a bundle and paid over the ten dollars.

“You’re pretty smart after a bargain,” said the clerk.

“I’ve got to be—when I strike such fellows as you,” was the reply.

“You got a better bargain than that Irish woman did.”

“I did—if the suit is all wool. But if it’s cotton, I’m stuck,” returned our hero, and with his bundle under his arm he walked from the store.

He had left his rowboat in charge of an old boatman named Ike Fairfield, and now he walked down to the boathouse.

“Just in time, Joe,” said the old boatman. “Want to earn a dollar?”

“To be sure I do,” answered our hero.

“A party of ladies want a long row around the lake. You can have the job.”

“All right, Ike.”

“I charged them a dollar and a quarter. I’ll keep the quarter for my commission.”

“That is fair.”

“One of the ladies said she wanted somebody that looked pretty decent. I think you’ll fill the bill with that new suit.”

“I didn’t expect to wear the suit out on the lake, but in this case I’ll keep it on,” answered Joe.

“I find it pays to keep well dressed, when you take out the summer boarders,” answered the old boatman. “And it pays to keep the boats in good shape, too.”

“Where am I to get the party?”

“Over to the dock of Mallison’s Hotel. One of the ladies is Mallison’s niece.”

“Why don’t they take a hotel boat?”

“All engaged, two days ago. It’s a busy season. But I’ve got to be going. You had better go over to the dock at once. They want to go out at three o’clock sharp.”

“Very well, I’ll be on hand,” answered our hero.

Joe certainly presented a neat appearance when he rowed over to the hotel dock. Before going he purchased a new collar and a dark blue tie, and these, with his new suit and new cap, set him off very well.

The boat had been cleaned in the morning, and when the ladies appeared they inspected the craft with satisfaction.

“What a nice clean boat,” said Mabel Mallison, the niece of the proprietor of the hotel.

“And a nice clean boatman, too,” whispered one of her friends. “I couldn’t bear that man we had day before yesterday, with his dirty hands and the tobacco juice around his mouth.”

The ladies to go out were four in number, and two sat in the bow and two in the stern. It made quite a heavy load, but as they were not out for speed our hero did not mind it.

“We wish to go up to Fern Rock,” said Mabel Mallison. “They tell me there are some beautiful ferns to be gathered there.”

“There are,” answered Joe. “I saw them last week.”

“And I wish to get some nice birch bark if I can,” said another of the ladies.

“I can get you plenty of it.”

Joe rowed along in his best style, and while doing so the ladies of the party asked him numerous questions concerning the lake and vicinity. When Fern Rock was reached, all went ashore, and our hero pointed out the ferns he had seen, and dug up such as the others wished to take along. An hour was spent over the ferns, and in getting some birch bark, and then they started on the return for the hotel.

“I’d like to row,” cried one of the ladies, a rather plump personage.

“Oh, Jennie, I don’t think you can!” cried another.

“Of course I can,” answered Jennie, and sprang up from her seat to take the oars.

“Be careful!” came in a warning from Joe, as the boat began to rock.

“Oh, I’m not afraid!” said the plump young lady, and leaned forward to catch hold of one oar. Just then her foot slipped and she fell on the gunwale, causing the boat to tip more than ever. As she did this, Mabel Mallison, who was leaning over the side, gazing down into the clear waters of the lake, gave a shriek.