CHAPTER IX.
Pierce Wentworth developes his character—His
chamber—Gains his master's confidence—The
Drawings—Mr. Cunningham—A mansion in
Summer street—How Pierce passes the evening—
The little beggar—The Watchman's widow—
The sailing party—Pierce shows his fearless
sense of right—Clerks and apprentices compared—
Temptations of each—Pierce meets a fellow
passenger—Mr St. John Leighton's character—
Mr Libbey's liberality—Pierce forms an opulent
acquaintance—He takes tea with Isabel—They
walk out.
The whole of the day was passed by Henry in a
state of mental torture from a lively conscience,
from a nervous fear of being questioned by Mr.
Cushing, from constant apprehension that his
wandering from the path of rectitude would be
momently discovered, to his shame and disgrace.
But Stanwood had been that night absent in the
country with his parents, for the purpose of discussing
cussing with them his contemplated change from
Mr Cushing's store into the importing house at
the corner of Kilby and State streets; and as Henry
ry had occupied his chamber alone since Burnham
ham had been dismissed, his absence proved not
to have been known. He, nevertheless, passed a
very unhappy day. The sense of debt degraded
him, and again and again he condemned his folly!
But he could not endure to think upon the events
of the past night, and crushed all reflection under
a sullen and morose countenance. The change
in him was noticed by all in the store; but he having
ing attributed his looks to illness, it passed by
with the kind remark from Mr Cushing, that, if
he did not become better, he had best go to his
lodging, and remain.
The day, however, was passed in a more cheerful
ful spirit by another character in our story of re
—Pierce Wentworth. Mr Libby was engaged
ed in erecting a handsome private edifice in Winthrop
throp Place, and had given the charge of completing
pleting the architectural ornaments of the saloon
to Pierce, whose genuis, taste, and skill he had
early discovered, and availed himself of. Four
doors, two in the Roman, and two in the Grecian
style, opened from this hall, and were to be fin
finished with pilasters, mouldings, entablatures, and
carved work, for which skilful journeymen are us
ually only employed. But Mr Libby had discovered
in his apprentice not only a desire to learn
his trade well, but a capacity to comprehend its
principles with the most careless explanation.—
He had given him many nice bits of work to do
in the shop, to try his abilities, and he was surprised
at the perfect neatness and finish with
which they came from his hands. But what led
him to place entire confidence in him, and place
work in his hands he himself was accustomed to
do, was, that one evening he went into his little
sleeping room (for he boarded at his house,) to
look for a volume of the Encyclopedia which was
missing, and to which he wished to refer for the
purpose of comparing some plates in a new work
on architecture, with those in the article headed
`Architecture;' with which he believed it to
differ.
Pierce had just gone out to convey a little package
to his sister that had come that day in a parcel
of his own, from home. Mr Libby was so
struck at the appearance of things there, that he
paused to survey them. Beside a little window
was Pierce's table, on which burned a shade-lamp.
A great number of books upon construction lay
upon it, with drawing sheets covered with diagrams,
outlines of the different orders of architecture,
drafts of entablatures, doors, stair-ways,
and plans of buildings, all neatly executed. A
beautiful model of a Grecian temple in rose-wood,
all its parts distinct, so that it could be taken to
pieces and put together like a dissected map, stood
on a chair. But what surprised him most, and
laid the foundation for respect and confidence,
was his astonishment at seeing on a table before
his chair the volume of the Encyclopedia he
sought, spread open at the index ARC, with a
pair of compasses and a Gunter's scale laid on it,
as if they had just been in use, and the very Plate
he wished to refer to exposed to view! But his
surprise was increased to find, on turning up a
large book that lay face down beside it, that it
was a library copy of the very new work he held
in hir hand, open at the Plate he wished to compare
with that in the Encyclopedia. A piece of
paper lay under it, on discerning diagrams upon
which, he took it up and examined them, when he
found, to complete his astonishment and pleasure,
that the sedentary apprentice had not only discovered
the inaccuracies in the new work, but he
had demonstrated them by diagrams and comparisous
of drawings.
From that time he afforded him every aid and
opportunity in his power for the development of
his talents. Instead of envy, his fellow apprentices,
as well as the journeymen, acknowledged
his superiority; while his kind manner and cheerful
temper made them friends. A few days before
that which the erring Harry passed so wretchedly,
wishing for night that he might forget his
guilt and anguish in sleep, Pierce was engaged in
the beautiful creation, from Greek models, of the
details of the architectural ornaments of the saloon.
In one of the finished apartments, adjoining,
was a table, on which lay his drawings
and instruments, while in the hall, with a
coarse apron on, and in a brown linen jacket, he
was at work embodying to the eye of taste in
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wood, the forms of which the drawings gave the
outlines.
A gentleman with urbane manners and courteous
appearance, entered and examined the drawings
for some time, with the eye of one who understood
them. Pierce, who saw him while working
in the saloon, watched his countenance with
deep interest, and was delighted to see from its
expression that he was pleased. After a little
while, he took a sheet in his hand, and, coming
into the hall, began to compare what was done
with what had been projected. While doing so,
Mr. Libby came in and addressed him as Mr.
Cunningham, who informed him he had called
at the suggestion of the owner to look at the
house.
`I am very much pleased with your plans, and
the style of this saloon, Mr. Libby,' he said; `and
will have my own house constructed on the same
plan. These drawings, aside from the taste and
knowledge of architecture, look like copper plate,
and are the most beautiful I have ever seen.—
They alone are sufficient testimonials of your skill
as an architect.'
`They are not mine, sir,' said Mr. Libby, looking
proudly across the apartment at the blushing
Pierce, who very closely busied himself with the
cornice he was finishing; `I should be glad to be
able to draught so well.'
`Who then is the architect?'
`There he stands at work upon the frieze.'
`You are inclined to be pleasant upon me, Mr.
Libby,' said the gentleman smiling.
`I beg your pardon, sir; but that young man
is the executor of the drawings, as well as the
author of the combined and beautiful styles which
you so much admire in the saloon.'
`He is scarcely nineteen! Can it be possible?'
said Mr. Cunningham, looking at Pierce as he
stood at work in his apron and jacket, and then at
the drawings he held in his hand, while Pierce,
who, as well as his fellow-workmen, had heard
the conversation, felt emotions of pride and pleasure.
He only wished Isabel and his father had
been present to have heard.
After gazing upon the young architect a moment,
with a look of interest and admiration, Mr.
Cunningham asked to be introduced to him.
`Young man,' he said, shaking him warmly by
the hand, `you have done, not only yourself, but
your profession great credit. But I will not spoil
you by praise, lest you think you have already attained
when there is much yet to reach after.—
You must come and visit me some evening and
see my library, in which I have a large collection
of works on architecture, the study of which is a
passion with me. Mr. Libby let him come to my
house some evening this week. I should like to
know you better, young sir.'
Pierce gratefully and modestly thanked him,
marvelling that drawings such as he had thought
nothing of making, when at school, should be
thought worthy of such praise in Boston. But
he found that the school-boy's genius as a draftsman
and modeller, was likely to be made available
beyond building nursery houses for pretty
little girls like Mary Boardman, and drawing pictures
to adorn it.
The third day afterward, Mr. Libby asked his
apprentice if he had yet been to Mr. Cunningham's
house. Pierce replied in the negative, saying
he presumed a gentleman like him would
scarcely be likely to think of him a second time;
and might be surprised at his accepting his invitation.
`No, no, my boy,' said Mr. Libby. `Mr. Cunningham
is s gentleman of fortune and taste, and
great benevolence of character; he takes great
interest in rising talent, and none will so quickly
command his notice as genius in architecture.—
Go this evening, if you are not otherwise engaged,
for he will expect you.'
At eight o'clock the same evening, (and at the
very same hour Harry Harefoot went with Lynch
to call on Silsby,) Pierce, attired in his Sabbath
suit, ascended the handsome Ionic Portico of Mr.
Cunningham's elegant mansion on Summer
street. For a few moments he paused to gather
courage before ringing. A well-dressed black
servant answered the bell. With a palpitating
heart he entered the lofty hall, and the servant,
throwing open a polished mahogany door in the
right, ushered him into a magnificent double
drawing-room, and receiving his name went out,
saying he would inform Mr. Cunningham of his
being there.
With astonishment and awe, not unmixed with
that pure delight which combinations of wealth
and taste always produce on intelligent minds,
the apprentice surveyed the noble apartments.—
Two bronzed candelabra, supported by lions rampant
in the front room filled it with brilliant
light, while the inner room was shaded in pleasing
twilight. The number, richness, and great
size of the pictures suspended by silken cords
upon the walls; the gorgeous drapery of the windows
descending from gilded spears crossed
above, quite down to the floor; the beauty of the
furniture which consisted of costly chairs, ottomans
and couches, covered with velvets, the
colors being different in the different rooms; the
splendor of the mantel ornaments, and the numberous
articles of show and furniture, unknown to
him by name filled him with surprise and pleased
wonder. The luxurious carpets gave back
no sound to his footsteps, and the gorgeous stillness
that pervaded the rooms was painful to
him. The servant had requested him to be seated,
but the chairs looked too rich to be sat in, and
not seeing any that looked like the family chairs,
he remained standing.
The door of the inner room turned, without a
sound, upon its hinges, and Mr. Cunningham entering
the drawing-room unheard, approached
Pierce, whose eye at that moment was caught
and fixed by a magnificent engraving of the Parthenon.
`I am glad you have remembered me, my
young friend,' said Mr. Cunningham, as he took
him kindly by the hand. `I expected you before,
and had my books taken down from the shelves
for you.'
Pierce ingenuously replied that he had feared
he should intrude himself upon his courtesy, and
so had delayed coming until Mr. Libby assured
him he would expect him.
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`Yes, I did, and am pleased that you have
come. Now be so kind as to accompany me into
my library.'
Pierce, not a little pleased at his reception, followed
him into the hall and up a grand staircase,
from the first landing of which a side flight of half
a dozen broad stairs conducted to a small saloon,
beyond which was the door of a library, which
Mr. Cunningham opened and invited Pierce to
enter. If the drawing room below stairs had astonished
him with the display of paintings furniture
and drapery, this apartment surprised him
with the splendor and vast number of the books
that, placed in handsome mahogany, literally
walled it. It put him in mind of a bookstore, yet
was as different from one as were the drawingrooms
from an upholsterer's shop. A lamp of peculiar
construction shed a soft sunny light
throughout every part of the room, while no portion
of the glary flame was visible. Tables stood
around, covered with large folios; tall frames
supported mammoth volumes; and racks of
drawings and plates, and models of temples, villas,
and public edifices, were ranged around in
perfect order.
At one of the tables, sat a handsome young
man, the expression of whose face impressed
Pierce very favorably, engaged in reading a huge
volume entitled the `Commerce of Nations.'—
Mr. Cunningham introduced him to Pierce as
Mr. Stanwood, saying,
`I am confident you will like each other,
young gentlemen, though your tastes are something
different—Frank here having a passion for
whatever relates to mereantile matters.'
Stanwood shook Pierce very cordially by the
hand, said he had heard Mr. Cunningham speak
of him, and was anxious to know him.
Mr. Cunningham then seating himself at his
writing-desk, said to Pierce,
`Excuse me, young gentleman—I am finishing
a letter that I wish to send off by the post.—
Frank will entertain you; or perhaps you can
amuse yourself. There is a volume which will
engage you till I am at leisure.'
He pointed, as he spoke, to a large folio of fine
engravings of edifices remarkable for their correct
styles, which lay open upon a frame near
him. Pierce was soon so deeply engaged in their
examination that he quite forgot where he was,
till startled by a little table-bell which Mr. Cunningham
rung, and which was answered by a
servant who received his letter with directions to
take it to the Post Office. Mr. Cunningham,
Pierce and Stanwood now entered into an interesting
and instructive conversation, during
which both young men were strnck with the intelligence
of each other.
The evening passed away most agreeably to
Pierce, in examining models and drawings, and
listening to the intelligent and instructive remarks
of Mr. Cunningham, who on his part was
gratified by the deep interest which Pierce took
in what he saw and heard, and was as favorably
impressed with his talents and good sense as he
had been surprised at his genius. When, as the
bell rang nine he was about to take leave, he
loaned him two or three valuable books, and
offered him the use of his library; and desired
him to visit him again the next evening, and
bring with him the drawings he had made for the
saloon, on which he was at work. He went home
greatly pleased with Cunningham, and delighted
with Stanwood, whose mother he learned was a
neice of Mr. Cunningham who invited him to
visit his home as freely as if-he were his son.—
As with proud and happy emotious he felt that
nothing was wanting to his enjoyment but Isabel,
and all he loved at home to share it with him.
He took his way homeward up Summer street,
whose magnificent lining of elms over rearching
from either side, made all deep gloom underneath,
which a street lamp at long intervals scarcely enlivened.
As he walked along with a free, elastic
step, and his coat buttoned to his chin (for the
night was chilly,) and was passing the old church
near the head, he felt some one pull at his skirt,
and at the same time a plaintive voice ask for
`bread.' He looked down, and saw in the gloom
a mere child,—an infant, as it were,—trotting at
his side, holding on to his coat. He stooped
down, and kindly spoke to it.
`I want a cent to buy bread,' said the little
shiverer.
`You need both to be clad and fed,' he said,
touched with pity at seeing a child not six years
old out at such a time of night begging. On
questioning it, he learned that he did not want
bread for himself but his mother, who was sick.
Desiring the child to guide him, he followed it
through Franklin Arch and entered Theatre Alley,
a narrow, dismal passage in the rear of the
theatre, uniting two parallel streets, and then
lined with the dwellings rather of poverty than
vice. A dim lamp burning at each extremity
and one midway, were just sufficient to guide the
foot-passenger.—The child trotted along with familiar
step, and led him a little ways down the
alley and then turned with him into a wretched
yard surrounded by low buildings. He knocked
on the door of one of these and a child little older
than himself opened it. The interior was quite
dark, but Pierce heard a woman's weak voice say,
`Billy, dear, have you come?'
`Yes, mama, and brought a good gentleman
with me.'
`God be thanked,' said the poor woman;
`there is yet some charity left for the poor! Did
you bring bread, sir?'
`No, but I will at once. Have you no way of
making a light?'
`None—we are destitute.'
`I will return in a few minutes,' said Pierce,
quitting the door-way in which he had stood.
In less than five minutes he returned from a
grocer's on the corner of Milk street with candles,
bread, apples, dried fish, and several other
articles, all that the grocery afforded, and all his
little money would buy. He soon made a light
which showed a wretched apartment, destitute
of furniture or bedstead, the bed being upon the
floor.—What a contrast, thought he, with a sigh,
to the gorgeous drawing rooms he had been in
that evening. He learned that she was a widow
with two children, the boy who had been sent out
begging and a girl ten years old, who was dumb.
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She said her husband had been a blacksmith, but
having been kicked by a horse, was compelled to
give up hard work, and take to one employment
and another to support his family, till no class of
working people owned him, and so he had friends
among none of them. To help himself along, he
hired himself as watchman, but the night air and
exposure gave him the consumption, with which,
after a long sickness, he died, leaving her not
only in debt, but destitute.
`We have been driven from shelter to shelter,'
she said, `since he died, which was two years
ago, and I made out to do by taking in washing
till I sprained my wrist. I then had to live off
of what little furniture and things I'd saved by
sellin' `em till I ha'nt any thing but this straw
bed and blanket. I have been too sick for three
weeks to help myself, and my little boy has supported
us along by begging. But he got nothing
all day, and as we had nothing to eat he went
out of his own accoad.'
`You are indeed in wretched circumstances,
madam,' said Pierce, who unused to scenes of
metropolitan wretchedness, had heard her narration
of her sufferings with deep interest, and the
liveliest sympathy. Assuring her that he would
make her case known to some benevolent persons,
he left her and her children as comfortable as he
could make them, and with the consciousness of
having done his duty, he took his way homeward,
with the intention of immediately making the
poor woman's case known to Mrs. Libby, who
he knew would at once take steps to improve her
condition. How much better relieving the indigence
of the watchman's widow, than knocking
poor watchmen down; hard working men, who to
eke out the small wages of the day, stand half
the night in storm and wind, cold and wet, to
preserve order and decorum, that citizens may
sleep in quiet and know their property to be protected.
As Mr. Libby lived in Boylston street, Pierce,
after reaching Washington street, kept along its
western side-walk. In front of the Lamb Tavern,
which stood near where is now erected a handsome
granite building, he saw a group of young
men, one of whom called him by name as he was
passing. He stopped and found a knot of apprentices,
most of whom were known to him.
They were lounging against a lamp-post and talking
about having a sail on Sunday, down the harbor.
Pierce was invited to join them.
`Not on Sunday,' he said, promptly.
`But if we don't go that day we can never go
at all,' said the one who had hailed him, whose
name was Cyrus Foster, and who was apprenticed
to a carpenter.
`I should rather not have any indulgence, if I
purchased it by breaking any one of the Commandments,
' answered Pierce, without any of
that weakness which leads young men to fear to
confess any reverence for God.
`We have as much respect for the Sabbath as
any body, Wentworth,' said another of the young
men, `but we must have some time for recreation;
we work hard all the week, and then to
stick up in a meeting-house all Sunday is `no
play.'
`I don't see any more harm in going a sailing
than in riding to meeting, as the ministers do,'
said Foster.
`I am sorry you differ with me,' said Pierce,
`but if I should consent to go, I should not enjoy
myself, with the consciousness of wrong doing.
'
`You are too strict, Wentworth; but each one
for himself, said Foster, feeling mortified.
Pierce, after a little more conversation, bade
them good night, and passed on his way.
`You might have known he would'nt have
gone,' said John Clifford, a journeyman cabinet
maker, sluringly; `he belongs to our Engine, and
never comes to club meetings because he says he
don't like to drink; and at that last fire in Broad
street, where he behaved so well, and took the
keg of powder out of the blazing counting-room
when the hoops had become hot, he refused, when
we got back to the Engine house, to drink the
the wine the merchant sent up after us; and what
was strange, though he was wet through he took
no cold.'
`He'll never be introduced to any of the girls,
no matter how pretty they are, nor goes to walk
with any in the Mall, Sunday evenings, as other
apprentices do,' said one, who wore a ruffied shirt
and was smoking a long nine.
`I saw him once walking with a right handsome
girl,' said Clifford.
`That is his sister,' answered Foster, `and a
pretty girl she is. But I don't know her. But
he's a clever fellow.'
The conversation now turned upon the projected
pleasure sail, on the next day, and it was decided
that it should take place, on the ground that
if apprentices did not amuse themselves upon the
Sabbath and be happy, they never could. True
happiness alone consists in obedience to divine
laws: and the false pleasure temporarily derived
from infringing them, is not enjoyment. The
plea so often offered by apprentices for breaking
the Sabbath, as, we are sorry to say, they are so
openly in the habit of doing, is as shallows as it is
vain. Thieves might as well argue that if they did
not steal in this world they never could! murderers,
that if they did not kill here they never
could! Sabbath breaking, a wilful shutting their
ears to the weekly instructions of the gospel, is
the great prime cause of the recent demoralization
among apprentices, which has led them in
large cities, to constitute themselves into lawless
bands, that are ready to congregate in seasons of
political excitement, in powerful mobs—powerful
from the combined recklessness and intelligence
of its components—subverting all order, and menacing
the very existence of civil and political
liberty. This forming clubs and adopting certain
styles of hat, of wearing the hair, or of shaping
the coat, for the purpose of appearing rowdy and
independent, is one of the evils of their position,
as censurable as that of fine dressing, vanity and
aping fashion among clerks; but of the two, dandy
and rowdy, the latter is the most to blame for
his folly, as the fact of his having chosen the hammer
instead of the yard-stick, is presumptive evidence
of his superior common sense.
Though we write and have written in defence
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of trades, and contend that the position of apprentices,
in the social system, infinitely superior in
every way to that of clerk, we are not ignorant
that there are peculiar temptations to each condition;
but we contend that of one hundred apprentices
and the same number of clerks entering
into their respective stores and shops together,
twelve years will bring a comfortable independence
to eighty of the former, while not twenty of
the latter live, if they are living at all, or are not
cast away—in the enjoyment of competence. The
life of the mechanic is even, and the tenor of his
course is uninterrupted (save in great national calamities
that overwhelm indiscriminately, all
men alike) by the viscissitudes, precarious outlays,
uncertain ventures and anxious watchfulness
of the merchant. If he derives not so much
income from his labor, it is a certain and increasing
one; and as his notions of style are temperate
and sensible; as he neither aspires to great
houses, nor apes the costly glitter of fashion, it is
enough for his happiness, and for his comfort,
and for his respectability, and for the education
of his children. Mechanics can soon become
owners of the houses they live in, by paying down
three or four hundred dollars, giving a mortgage
on the house, and then from year to year paying
what would otherwise pay for its rent on the
mortgage The retail merchant can seldom become
owner of a house; for his income is uncertain,
and his notions lead him to desire a mansion
that itself would swallow a fortune; consequently
he becomes a tenant of a stylish house along
side of the neat two story dwelling which his
cabinet-maker lives in, and which he owns. Apprentioes
have, also, very little unemployed time,
and are not exposed to that idleness which irresistably
leads to vicious habits; while the boy in
a store is idle half the time, either lounging about
the counter, or perched on a stool playing with a
yard-stick and talking with the neighbor's clerks,
or stuck away in a corner half hidden by a bale
of goods, reading interdicted and demoralizing
books. The apprentice has not the temptation to
steal, which the `clerk' daily has, surrounded as
he is by rich goods of every variety, which are at
any moment convertable into money. The former
handles none of his master's funds, and is not
tempted to appropriate small change, which in
the end leads to bank robbery and the penitentiary;
he is not exposed hourly to female temptation
like the clerk; nor do fashionable places of
amusement and dissipation allure him to their
haunts; his amusements may be boisterous and
unfashionable, perhaps, but they are rarely ruinous
to his character; cards and wine, billiards
and driving, rioting and harlotry, are very seldom
his pursuits.
Pierce sought his home; and after sitting up
till twelve o'clock in his chamber looking over
the books Mr. Cunningham had loaned him, he
reverently read a chapter in his Bible and went to
bed. How differently had Pierce and Harry
passed the hours of that long evening! How
much sweeter was the calm sleep of the upright
apprentice than the restless, feverish slumbers of
the risting clerk. How bright and fresh did
Wentworth wake at sun-rise, and with what cheer
fulness he rose and went to his work! At breakfast
he gave Mr. Libby an account of his agreeable
visit to Mr. Cunningham's, and also laid before
his benevolent wife the case of the poor
watchman's widow; and happy was he to learn
before the forenoon was over, that she had placed
her under the care of a charitable association of
mechanic's ladies, whose Christian, self-imposed
task it was to provide for the destitute families of
mechanics.
Cheerfully he passed that day, for the consciousness
of doing right is in itself happiness —
While at his work in the saloon, in his apron and
brown jacket as before, Mr. Cunningham came
in accompanied by Col. Gardiner, the owner of
the house which Mr. Libby was building, and by
a very fashionable young gentleman in ruffles, in
whom Pierce recognized his fellow passenger,
Mr. George Washington St. John Leighton. The
young exquisite took up his glass and began leisurely
to survey the saloon, when in its range his
eye fell on Pierce, whom he seemed to recognize,
while Wentworth slightly bowed. Mr. St. John
Leighton looked surprized, stared, and with a
contemptuous curl of his lip, turned away on his
heel, muttering,
`Impertinence.'
Pierce understood the feeling of the haughty
young graduate and smiled, but by no means felt
troubled at being cut by him. Mr. Cunningham,
who had lingered with Col. Gardiner in the door
to examine it, now walked forward over the refuse
with which the floor was strewn, and approaching
Pierce, said,
`Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Wentworth, hard at
work again! Let me introduce to you Col. Gardiner,
who till I told him was ignorant that you
were the draftsman of the plan of the ornaments
for the hall.'
Pierce laid down his chisel and blushing,
though not so weak as to speak an apology for
his appearance, he frankly took Col. Gardiner's
offered hand.
Mr. St. John Leighton witnessed this with surprise,
and seeing that they sometime stood in conversation
with him, he became restless, and after
walking in and out of the several rooms, carefully
avoiding contact with any object that might
soil his attire, he returned into the saloon still to
find them engaged with him examining drawings.
`Youah seem to honah that youth, uncle Gardenare,
more than oi conceiveah he is enchitled
toah,' he drawled in a tone of affected nonchalance,
`Oi believe oi will not inchude moi companyah,
as oi seem to be forgotten, and oi will respectfullyah
bidah youah a good dayah!'
`Good day, George,' said Col. Gardiner, not
looking up from the drawings; `we shall expect
you to tea.'
`Perhaps youah friendah with the apronah, will
honah you, uncle, inah my steadah,' replied Mr.
St. John Leighton loftily.
`I shall certainly feel honored in having a
young man of genius like him at my table, and if
you come and Mr. Wentworth will oblige me, I
promise you shall meet him there.'
`Then I beg,' said Leighton, in a tone divested
of its drawling affectation, `to be excused. I have
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not been in the habit of associating with carpenters'
apprentices.'
Col. Gardiner looked angry and was about to
reply, when seeing Pierce smile with quiet composure,
he said nothing; but Mr. Cunningham
could not withhold some sharp remarks upon the
weakness so common to many young men of family,
of considering beneath their notice and common
civility, persons in mechanical employments.
`When that foolish young man is forgotten by
all but his tailor and haberdasher,' he said with
asperity, `you, Wentworth, will with pride be
remembered by your country, and long live in
the enduring monuments of your genius.'
Mr. George Washington St. John Leighton
took his departure without deigning to notice
these words which he had heard. Stopping in
the portico he drew forth a cambric handkerchief,
the perfume from which as he unfolded it penetrated
the saloon, and having carefully dusted his
boots, he insolently placed his glass to his eye to
give Wentworth what he meant for a parting
glance of contempt, and then swinging his rattan,
walked towards Washington street, to lounge
and stare at the ladies. Mr. St. John was a very
harmless young person. He had no bad habits,
but he then had no very good ones! his sense
was not quite `common,' and approbativeness
and self-esteem were his most prominent phrenological
developments!—He did not smoke—he
perfumed! He did not drink—but he made free
use of Cologne water! He did not play cards,
but he carried a pearl card case! He did not
keep a mistress, but he did a puodle! He was
nephew and ward of Col. Gardiner; but preferred
living at a hotel to living with his uncle, who
preferred having him do so. He would be of age
in four months, when he would come into two
thousand a year, on which he intended to live
the harmless, perfumed, poodling life he had now
entered upon.
The day being Saturday, work closed at four
o'clock, this being a rule of Mr. Libby's, with
which Col. Gardiner, as well as other gentlemen
he had builded for, acquiesced; his motive being
to give his men not only time to transact whatever
family affairs they had not been able to do
through the week, so as not to encroach upon
the Sabbath, but to let them prepare for it with
more leisure. He knew well, by experience, the
value of two hours before sunset to the hardworking
man, and it is to be regretted his example
is not oftener followed by others. Our great
Master, the architect of the Universe, gives us
one day out of seven, all of which are equally
his, in which he not only says we may not, but
we must not work; cannot the Christian master
give his laborers one or two hours of the six days
that are his! Insist not too strongly on having
the `pound' of flesh.
Pierce after returning home and dressing, took
this hour to visit and examine with a little drawing
book in his pocket, the public buildings of
the city, noting their disagreements with the
rules of art as well as studying their correct proportions.
The edifice towards which he this afternoon
directed his steps were the princely and
tasteful mansion of Mr. Sears, on Beacon street.
The proprietor having observed from the window,
an intelligent looking young man stand some time
opposite, apparently taking an outline of his
house, and then observing him walk, to view both
ends and finally stand and commence a drawing
of the portico, the proportions of which he seemed
to have some difficulty in getting from the outside
of the gate, he became interested in his pursuit
and sent a servant to invite him into the
court. Pierce, who had been so absorbed in his
study as to be unconscious of being particularly
observed, hesitated, and then gratefully accepted
the invitation, lifting his hat to the proprietor,
whom he saw looking out from one of the bow
windows.
After the drawing was completed, Mr. Sears
sent for him with the request to be permitted to
see the fruit of his observations. Pierce followed
the servant into a spacious and finely proportioned
hall, and was conducted into a front room which
was a library, where was seated the gentleman
whose taste and wealth had erected such an ornament
to Boston, as his magnificent dwelling. He
was seated at a very large circular table, which
turned upon a pivot, bringing round within reach
of the hand by the slightest movement whatever
book or paper lay on the opposite side of it. When
Mr. Sears discovered that instead of a mere view
of the house that his paper presented in detached
parts, the architectural profile and details alone,
he was surprised, and asked if he had studied
ed architecture. Pierce's reply led to further
conversation, which resulted in the benevolent
and gentlemanly proprietor taking him over his
spacious house and showing him its plan; and,
expressing when he left, the most cordial interest
in him, invited him to come and see him whenever
he should find time.
`Truly,' thought Pierce as he closed behind
him the gate of this abode of opulence and taste,
`I have found, since I have been in Boston, that
the true gentleman—he, whose position by education,
wealth and taste, is established, has none
of that feeling of superiority with reference to
trades' people that is felt by `first classes,' as we
call them in `Augusta' and such towns! It is only
the `little respectabilities,' those who feel their
position not properly defined, and who tremble
for it, that look so far above mechanics, lest if
theybe seen speaking to them they may be thought
to be no higher than they. `What,' he thought
to himself, smiling, `would Harry Harefoot have
said had he seen me last night at Mr. Cunningham's,
or just now in Mr. Sear's library?'
It was now sun-down and hastening to take
his walk with Isabel, which he did every Saturday
evening, he soon arrived at the milliner's
shop of Mrs. Prescott. She met him with a glad
welcome; and Mrs. Prescott inviting him up
stairs to tea, he remained. After tea, Isabel tied
on her hat, wrapped herself warmly in a plaid
blanket shawl, and taking her arm went with him
towards the Common, where they loved most to
walk; its trees and green associating in their
minds the fields and woodlands about their native
town.
-- 050 --
Ingraham, J. H. (Joseph Holt), 1809-1860 [1845], Harry Harefoot, or, The three temptations: a story of city senses (H. L. Williams, Boston) [word count] [eaf182].
