James Oxley - Terry's Trials and Triumphs

"Ye'll have many a ride in a carriage, and with glass sides too, mother, before that."

Then he darted off down the stairs, whistling "St. Patrick's Day in the Morning" with all his might, while his mother fell into a chair in sheer bewilderment at her boy's utterly novel behaviour.

Certainly there had been nothing in Terry's past record to give ground for hope of his ever attaining the status of a gentleman owning a carriage. To do as little work and to have as much play as possible seemed to be his ideal of life. More than once a situation as errand-boy had been obtained for him; but he soon forfeited them by neglect of duty, and returned rejoicing to his friends on Long Wharf. Unless a decided change of disposition took place, he bid fair to turn out nothing better than one more recruit for the wretched regiment of "street loafers" that is characteristic of every maritime city.

Long Wharf, Terry's "happy hunting ground," so to speak, it must be admitted, possessed a multitude of attractions for boys of his kind. It held an unquestioned pre-eminence among the wharves of Halifax for size and superiority of position, thrusting itself out prominently from their midst into the heart of the harbour, while the rest curved away on either hand in undistinguishable monotony. From the foot of Long Wharf you could comfortably command the whole water-line as from no other vantage-ground. Hence, in addition to being one of the busiest places in the city during the day, it was in the summer evenings the favourite resort of the whole neighbourhood – men, women, and children gathering there to enjoy the cool breezes, and to watch the pleasure-boats gliding past with their merry occupants.

The wharf was the centre of bustling activity all summer long. From it sailed lines of steamers to the bleak rugged coasts of Newfoundland and to the fascinating fairy-land of the West Indies, while others voyaged across the ocean to the metropolis of the world. When they returned laden with costly cargoes, the schooners and other sailing-vessels gathered round with gaping holds that had to be filled, and what they did not carry off went into the huge warehouses which stood in opposing rows clear up to the street.

By virtue of his relationship to Black Mike, Terry had the freedom of the wharf. It was about the only benefit his father conferred upon him, and he made the most of it, scraping acquaintance with the sailors, especially the cooks of the steamers, running occasional errands for the storekeeper, who might order him off the premises at any time he saw fit, fishing for perch and tomcods, bathing in the north dock at the risk of arrest by the first policeman who should happen along, and having grand games of "I spy" among the maze of stores and sheds.

Of course, this kind of life could not go on for ever, and there were times when Terry paused in his eager quest for amusement long enough to ask himself what he would like to be and to do for a living. The answers to the question were as various as Terry's moods. He fain would be a sailor, soldier, fireman, policeman, or coachman, according as he had been most lately impressed with the advantages and attractions of that particular occupation. He even sometimes let his thoughts aspire as high as the position of clerk in the offices of Drummond and Brown, the owners of Long Wharf. But that was only in moments of exceptional exaltation, and they soon fell back again to their wonted level.

This last idea, remote as the possibility of its fulfilment might seem, had especial vigour imparted into it one morning by a few words that Miss Kate Drummond, the only daughter of the senior partner, happened to let fall. She had driven down with her own pony to take her father home to lunch, and the wharf being such a noisy place, had asked Terry, who chanced to be lounging near by, wondering if he would ever be the owner of so fine an equipage, if he would be good enough to hold the pony's head while she sat in the carriage awaiting her father's coming.

Struck by Terry's prepossessing albeit somewhat dirty countenance, she thought she might while away the time by asking him some questions about himself. Terry answered so promptly and politely that she became quite interested in him, and finally began to sound him as to his plans for the future.

"Do you know, Terry," said she, with a winning smile that sent a thrill of pleasure clear down to the tips of the boy's bare toes, "I believe something good might be made out of you. Your face tells me that you've got it in you to make your way in the world. Many a rich and famous man had no better start than you. Wouldn't you like to try as they did?"

Terry turned away his head to hide the blushes that glowed through the tan and freckles on his cheeks, and shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.

"I don't know, mum," said he at last. "I'd like to be a gentleman, and keep a carriage some day."

Miss Drummond gave a pleasant laugh; the answer was so frankly characteristic. To be a gentleman and to ride in a carriage seemed to be the working people's highest ideal of earthly bliss.

"Well, Terry," she responded, taking care that there should be sympathy, not ridicule, in her tone; "if that is your ambition, the way is open to you to try to accomplish it. My grandfather began as a little office-boy, and he had more than one carriage of his own before he died."

The look that Terry gave Miss Drummond on hearing these words made her blush a little in her turn; it was such a curious blending of bewilderment and joy. That this radiant creature, who seemed almost as far removed from him as an angel of heaven, should have had a grandfather who was a mere office-boy, was a surprising revelation to him. At the same time, what a vista of hope it opened up! If old Mr. Drummond, whom he remembered seeing years before, had worked his way up so well, could not others do it also?

Not knowing just what to say, Terry kept silence, and the situation was presently relieved by the appearance of Mr. Drummond. As Miss Drummond gathered up the reins, she gave the boy another of her lovely smiles.

"Thank you very much, Terry," she said; "and you'll think over what I've been saying to you, won't you?"

Terry pulled off his ragged cap in token of promise to do so, and the light carriage whirled away, leaving him with thoughts such as had never stirred his brain before. Of course he knew that men had made their way up from humble beginnings to high positions, but the fact had hitherto never been so closely brought home to him; and it was while under the excitement of this idea that he so astonished his mother as related above.

The seed thus sown by Miss Drummond began to take root at once. Terry now gave more thought to getting a chance to make a start in life than he did to having a good time. And here, as it happened, fortune favoured him in a most unusual way. On the Saturday morning of the week after the talk which had set him thinking, he was sitting at the end of the Long Wharf watching a big steamer making her way slowly up the harbour. It being the noon hour, the wharf hands were all away at dinner, and the place was almost deserted.

Suddenly he was startled out of his reverie by the sound of hoofs beating with alarming rapidity upon the resounding planks, and turning round he saw what caused him to spring to his feet with every nerve and muscle athrill. Thundering down the wharf in blind and reckless flight came Miss Drummond's pony, while in the carriage behind sat the owner, tugging desperately upon the reins, her face white and set with terror.

Acting upon the first impulse of the moment, Terry ran forward, shouting and waving his cap. Then, seeing that to be of no avail, he sprang at the maddened creature's head, hoping to seize the reins. But by a quick swerve the pony eluded him, and the next moment plunged headlong off the end of the wharf, dragging the carriage and its helpless occupant after her. There was a piercing shriek, a splash, a whirl of seething foam, and then the clear green depths closed over all!