Rensselaer Union, Volume 2, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 August 1870 — THE RUNAWAY. [ARTICLE]

THE RUNAWAY.

Halloa 1 That you Diet ? Where are you going ? A rather pale, slightly built youth of fifteen years, with a carpet bag in his hand, looked up nervously ana walked on. It was in the vicinity of the depot, and there was much trundling of trucks and spitting of engines, and consequently Sam Jones presumed that his salutation had been unheard. About noon on the same day, Amos Huy land, Esq., sauntered forth from his office to attend to a little business in another part of the town. The boys were just coming from school, and stared at him and whispered among themselves. Finally, Ely Darby stepped up and exclaimed : , “Mr.—Mr—can’t thins of your name, sir—but Dick has run away.” “What I” “He has gone to New York, every stitch of hifh, and is never coming back. He said I might tell you after twelve o’clock, for he would be too far off for Jfou to catch him then.” The father stood still with his eyes riveted on the speaker, for a moment, and then turned on his hoel, and in five minutes was in the library ot his own house. “Amy,” he called to-his wife, “do you know anything about Dick ?” “He has not returned from school yet. Why?” “Did he go to school this morning?" “Of course—at least so far as I know. I did not see him at all after he ate his breakfast.” “Will you go to his room and see if his books are there ?” Mrs. Huyland threw down her sewing and hastened up-stairs. In a few moments she returned, looking frightened and curious. . “His books are there; but his carpetbag and his clothes are gone. What docs it all mean ?” “That our son has actually run awaystarted for New York.” There were red eyes and sad hearts in the Huyland mansion that afternoon, and Dick's elder brother, Alfred, a fine boy of who was in the post-office on a salary of eight hundred a year, -was anxious to pursue and capture the young deserter. “No; Dick must have time and opportunity given him to acquire useful information," said his father, although it was a noticeable fact that he had to clear his throat half-a-dozen times before he could articulate according to Quackenboss. At supper-time, Philo, a lad of thirteen, declined bread and butter, and sweetmeats, and hot biscuit, and jelly cake, and toast, and tea, and when asked if he was sick, replied: “ I don’t know as I have got the croup: but lam aWful like baby was when he had it last spring.” “ Mamma,” said little five-year-old Mary, “Is going to New York just the same as being dead ?” And when the question brought a shower of tears instead of an answer, she continued: “ I hope God never will take me there when I die.” Meanwhile the traveler had passed a long miserable day. At first he congratulated himself upon his successful escapade. He had marched boldly down the front street, and not a soul except his cousin Sam Jones had taken the slightest notice of him. He was glad to get off so easy, but a little chagrined, after all, at his own insignificance. Fairly outside the pale of parental Jurisdiction, and whizzing on to his destiny, his heart grew tender and he not only stood up to give a little girl his seat, but,bestowed the apple he had crammed in his pocket for lunch on a big baby who was crying lustily. As the hours waned, his spirits sank, and, according to nature, he commenced a recapitulation of the wrongs and injustices of which he had been the victim. He did not see why Alfred and Philo need be so much better looking than himself. Everybody called them handsome, while he had been often told that he was as homely as a hedge fence. They were genteel and elegant, and objects of admiration to his parents and friends. It wasn’t fair. To be sure he was the genius in the family; but what of that ? It only compelled "him to go to school, while Alfred was making money, and getting a good start In the world. He did not like his. father’s cynical manner when he comElained of his teacher, found breakers in Is Algebra, anathematized chemistry, and declared Latin a bore. And then when he asked him if he might go into business he said: “ What I Before you get your bibs off! I don’t think tkat is your forte. You are not careful enough about your dollars and cents. We shall have to make you up into a professional man. It takes Alfred to do the financiering.” Dick felt as if he-had been swallowing fire-brands, and opened the car window. A cat was running on the fence down beside the track, and he wished he was out where he could step bn her tail. How his mother laughed when he told her that he meant to be as rich as A. T. Stewart and live in "New York when ha got to be a man.

But it was his dear old grandmother who had committed the unpardonable sin. She had been for weeks all the time asking why Dick had grown so moody and taciturn. And that had put it into Philo’s head to call him stupid and 111-natured. Dick pulled off his soft hat and threw it down upon the seat violently, then placed it upon his head. He did not like these pricking memories. He would show the folks at home and cvery-where else that he was able to take care of himself; and when he had earned five hundred dollars —no, when he had five thousand dollars and a horse and carriage—five million would be better, or five hundred millions, and a house on Fifth avenue, with a French roof, and a train of railroad cars stopping at the front door every time its master feels inclined to take a short walk. Of course the kind-hearted conductor was oblivious to all these eitraordinary air castles; and when the conductor came along In the regular discharge of his duty, he saw only a very common place boy, watched out on a seat all alone, and fest asleep. Having noticed him in the earlier part of the morning, and remembering his destination, he did not waken him. And so, many thanks to him, Dick got a tolerable nignt’s rest As he neared the end of his journey, his mind was crowded with plans. He knew but one person in the metropolis, a partner in the baking powder business, whose address he had secured, and to him he resolved to apply for work. He would let himself very cheap to begin with, so as to rise more surely. He would take two hundred dollars a month, unless they urged more upon him. But the second month he must have an increase of wages or leave, and he should soon be at the top of the ladder. , He had studied New York from a map of the city, and had no difficulty in engineering his way through the crowded streets. He found Mr. Boniface, who received him warmly, but had no situation to give him. Indeed, he had., more boys about him now than he knew how to manage or keep busy. He would keep a sharp lookout for Dick Jthough, and he must come in every day and report progress. Dick found a cheap lodging-house in the lower part of the city, where he staid one night. The next morning he visited all the eating-houses and compared prices. Then he counted his money to see just how long it would last, for he had by no means a heavy purse. Mr. Boniface offered him a cot m the upper part of his store when he made a second call upon that gentleman, and it was gladly accepted. But no situation had been seen going round looking for a boy, and Dick determined to start out and find one. Very few business houses on the principal streets south of City Hall that were not visited by a modest, well-dressed, in-telligent-looking boy, during the next five days. Sometimes ho was treated, civilly, but was oftener abruptly and sharply dismissed. What time had busy men to give such young fortune hunters ? His heart was very heavy, but his courage was like the widow’s oil. The only thing that gave him positive anxiety was the state of his finances. He never knew before how much it “cost a feller” to get enough to eat. He must take some decided stand in that regard or he should be bankrupt sure. So he limited hltaself to twenty-five cents a meal, and firmly resisted all further temptations to his boyish appetite.

But the wisest and most sensible thing he did was to buy a return-ticket home, before he should by any chance spend all his money. Not that hd intended to use it, though he felt as if he would give his right hand for one of his mother's good breakfasts, and be had many a tired longing for his own comfortable room with the spring-bed and rocking-chair in it. He had promised to write to Ely Darby, who was going to run away as soon as he got the letter. In a bookstore in Nassau street he got a pen and ink and fulfilled the task. But he very confidentially informed his friend that it “ didn’t pay, and advised him to sta’y where he was. The second week passed very much like the first. He was industrious in his efforts to get something to do. He drew some heavy sighs, but nobody heard them. He wondered why his father had taken no pains to find out his whereabouts, and finally settled down into the belief that he had hard'.y been missed. He had made himself so disagreeable of late, perhaps they were all glad to get rid of him. His money would hold out but a few days longer, and what was he to do? He should feel pretty cheap at going back without an invitation. He wished his father would come and “ blow him up ” and “ thrash him ” as some men would, and then take him home, and “ wouldn’t he stay there, though ?” He did not know that Mr. Boniface had received several private communications, and been Instructed to watch over the runaway and see that no harm came to him. While at the same time it was thought best to allow him to follow the bent of his own inclinations, even at the risk of a pretty rough time. One morning he stood in the store door cogitating. He had come to the last twenty-five cents, and it was before breakfast, although it was ten o’clock. He was hungry. What boy of fifteen ever saw the time he was not ? But he did not like to be absolutely penniless. Neither did he quite like to make use of the tickets that were scorching his pockets until he could almost detect a blue smoke arising. He saw a gentleman coming towards him, and recognised an uncle, his father’s brother, who lived in the city. “ Ah, Dick ! that you ? How are you ? Diving here, eh? Do you like New York?” “ Yes, sir, pretty well.” “ Are you busy to-day ? Suppose you come up and take dinner with me and we will talk over business matters a little. -* Dick’s eyes filled with tears and bis heart leaped for joy. He should get one good straight meal sure without losing his selfrespect. That was what his stomach said. Perhaps his finer feelings were touched by the unexpected .meeting. If' not, they were aroused to an exciting degree by some remarks which followed. “By the way, Dick, I have had a letter from your father lately, and he has entrusted me with a little roll of money for you, which ho says you may use as you see fit. He thinks perhaps your expenses here may have exceeded your calculations, and he wants that you should have a good time.” Dick sobbed outright. “I don't deserve any such kindness, uncle Dick," he eaid, after a moment’s pause. “ I wish he had asked mo to come home. I wonder if — .” * - “They want to tee you there T Of course'they do. Cheer Up my boy. If you have had enough 'of this little town all you have to do now is to take the back track and commence where you lety off,"

Dick felt exceedingly comfortable when he went to bed that night, and slept more sweetly than In months before. He was in the guest-chamber of his unde, and it looked so much like home that he left the gas burning to enjoy it He waked before daylight, and finding some pens and paper on the table, jumped up and wrote the following letter: “My Dear Fattier: I shall never be able to tell yon how ashamed I am of myself, or how much I thank you for your unmistakable token of conscience. I would rather come home and go to rdhool than stay anywhere else if I could get forty situations. Uncle Dick thinks I had better waft until Wednesday, and then take the train West My best love to mother and Mary and the boys. “ Your affectionate son, Dion.'’ When he called to bid Mr. Boniface Sood-bye he learned that one of the geneman to whom he had applied a few days before, had left word that he had a place for him now, and would give him ten dollars a week for his services. “ If I were a little older and my education complete, I wouldn’t mind accepting,” replied Dick, with a very manly air; “ but I shall do nothing without the advice of my father hereafter, he is so much better able to judge for me than I am for rnyFujlf** “ Oh I” said his little cousin Dick (it was a family name) as a nice lunch was being put up for his journey, “ won’t you catch it when you get home I Your father will look daggers at you and say, ‘My dear sir are you going to run away any. more ?’ and then he will take you up-stairs and padda-tchack you 1" But Dick only smiled and remarked that he expected all the boys would be after him, and he probably should never hear the last of his trip to New York. It was near mid-day when he arrived in Tontogany. His father met him at the depot ana greeted him warifily. “ Hadn’t we better take a carriage up?” whispered Dick. “ No, I think we had better walk.” They passed along through the crowd out into the street, when Dick’s courage again faltered. “ Hadn’t we better go up to the house the back way ?” “ No, my son, it is just as well to face the music. The boys will have their fun anyway, and if you are in the right it won’t strike very deep." “Halloa, Baking-Powder!” “There’s Dick, sneaking’home!” “Didn’t make much trying to get ahead -of the old man!” and similar expressions greeted him at every step, but he walked with a firm step and only bowed to such of his friends as chose to accost him in a respectable manner. He wondered how it was that everyone in the home household was so glad to see him. His pretty mother looked as if she had spent her whole life in weeping, and when she strained him to her heart and muttered words of thankfulness that he had been restored to her once more, her tears ran down -his neck and nearly dissolved his new paper collar. Mary clung to him whenever she «ould get a gooa hold, and pulled him from one place to another In the wildest confusion. Philo rolled up the easy chair for him to sit in and carried his hat into the hall and hung it on the rack. Alfred seized him by the coat collar with his two hands and shook him till he was half blind. “ How well you are looking, Major ! I guess I’ll go to New York if it brightens one up so. Dick was In a whirl of happiness. Had everybody changed; or, was it the film that had fallen from his own eyes ? He did not make up his mind just then, but as weeks rolled on he came to the conclusion that he was woefully mistaken at that period in his history when he believed himself counted out of the hearts of all those he best loved, and parted with the green-eyed monster, who had nearly drifted him into ruin, with a great sense of relief. His parents also indulged in reminis ccnces regarding themselves and their daily walkjprevious to this little episode, which were not altogether flattering. It is but a few days since I heardkMrs.Huyland say: . . , „ “We are constantly reminded of our great lack of perception in never having had a correct insight into the heart of our second son until the screw was applied by Heaven itself’’— Christian Union.