A FRIEND IN NEED

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXIII, Issue 14, 6 April 1905, Page 24

A FRIEND IN NEED

Befqre tihq congratulations following liis triunupfra.nt graduation from the high scn/00l had grown cold Philip I onway was listening to a business ofler from one of his father's old friends. 'If you accept this position,' the man was saying, ' you are, to go from place to place, all o\er the country, wherever any unusual gathering is in progress. You are to pitch your tent in the most prominent spot you can find, make tea with the apparatus we provide, and distribute samiple cups and advertising matter to tlhe crowd. In each town you will need to hire two neat young women by the day to serve tea and wash the dishes. You nedd do none of the actual labor yourself, hut you are to keep things in running order— to be the business manager, in fact. Of course we pay all expense*. Will you do it ? ' 1 I must do something,' replied Philip. 'If you think I'm eqjual to it— if you're willing to trust me— I'll be glad to try it.' 1 Prof. Kendall says you liav>e plenty of executhe ability, and that you are trustworthy. These are tJhe principal requirements. It's a man's work, but I belies you are capable of doing it. Come to my office to-marrow morning if you decide to undertake it, and I'll gi\e you detailed instructions.' The following morning Philip went home jubilant. Forty dollars a montih and expenses seemed a princely sum to the boy. He thought almost scornfully of his classmate, Sam Peters, who was tremendously elated o\er the pnompect of earning five dollars a week. 'Of course,' sard Philrp grandly, 'II isfri't the sort of thing a iman wants to en-gage in for life, but it's a good thing while it lasts, and mother needs e\ cry dollar I can qarn. I know Mr. Prcsicott is doing this solely because he and father were Such friends, but I'll just y'how him that hd didn't make any mistake.' With thLs noble resolve the lad started oul Upon his new and inxuswal enterprise, pitching his tent from week to week in strange and divers places. lie Msited towns tftiat were undergoing the agonies of strcot Fairs, firemen's tournaments, Fojjrih of July and other celebrations. He tra\<ellod in the wake of circuses an-d ' Wild West ' shows — where\er there was a crowd, there was Philrp with his free samples of tea. He mastered the intricacies of a complicated gasoline stove, solved the problem of serving the greatest number of persions in the shortest space of time, and learned to hire, with careful judgment, his two whiteaproned assistants. He disepvered, too, that ejach town possessed at least one small boy who was willing, for the trifling reward of a dime and a few sample packages of tea, to fill his big copper boilers with water, and to keep the freakish gasoline stove from exploding and otherwise misboha\ing. Of course Philrp made mistakes at first, but he profited by them. Mr. Prescott, the teaman, had rea-Son to feel that he had made a wise choice in selecting his friend's son as his a'chertising agent. Wherever the lad went he made friend^. He had a bright, attractive face ; lie carried his handsome head ■with a jaunty, self-respecting air, and he was all business. His small-boy assistants spoke of him as ' the proprietor ' and addressed him as ' sir.' Moroo\er, his mother was a gentlewoman ; there Tore her boy's speech was refined amd his manners were irreproachable. ' A fine boy,' was the verdict wherever he went. The latter part of September found him in northern Michigan, where the Carp County Agricultural Fair was in progress. He obtained permission to pitch his tent

between wlvat the directors facetiously called ' 'the jelly-and-jam building ' and the horticultural department. By Monday noon his outfit was unpacked and everything was ready for business ; but the crowd was not ready for tea. The fair grounds were inconveniently far from town. Many of the exhibitors who had no horses and felt to^ poor to patronise the ratlroad, even at greatly reduced rates, carried their exhibits from town, over two miles of dusty road. The dis/tance, too, from the entrance gate to the buildings was considerable ; but it seemed ne\er iio occur to the lounging group of men and boys just within the gate to offer any assistance to tired old women, who fairly staggered under the weight of home-made pickles, potted plants, and rolls of rag carpet. His tent up, his sanrples unpacked and his helpers insitructed x Philip found time heavy on his hands until he discovered a weary old woman bent almost double over -a huge basket of carrots. ' Let me help you,' said Philip, springing to her assistance. This was only the first of many baskets that the energetic lad carried from the gate to the buildings that day. The people amused him by their quaint speeches , and it did not occur to him that he was doing anything unusual. Toward noon he went to town for ihis luncheon. As ne was entering the gate of the fair grounds on his return he noticed just ahead of him a portly womia n with two baskets filled with plates. ' Let me carry those baskets,' said Philip, touching h^s eo.^. ' It's easy to see ydu've been well brought up,' Said the woman, with a disdainful glance at the lotu<ngers that sprawled on the benches. ' I guess you don't belong to this town.' ' No,' s;aid P|hili,p, ' my home is in Pennsylvania.' ' I'm the cake-and-pie woman,' volunteered his companion, displaying a badge, upon whicn was printetl, ' Sur.ari'ntendent of Class Cr ' 'It beats all, the way folks bring tvheir doughnuts and cake, and goodness knows what else, without a sign of a plate to put 'em on. K\cry year I have to lug out a bushel or two of plates for other people's doughnuts. Come in wheh you're hujngry and I'll let you sample some of mine. Thank you for carrym' the baskets. If I had a boy I'd like him to be just such a boy as you are— mine went to Cuba ' Philip knew wit'ho'it further words that the boy who had gone to Cuba had not returned. During the week that followed Mrs. Bailey and the ' tea-boy ' exchanged many courtesies in the way of cookies and oups of tea, and the long, tiresome days were ploas-antc/r for boy% in consequence. The Last day of the fair was the time set for an exciting series of horse races. The attendance on Friday aftelrnoon exceeded all previous records, and the entire crowfd was assembled on or near the granid stand. Upon the platform used for the acrobatic performances Philip saw several men with their heads close togeftlher o\er certain small books. Philip had attended too many country fairs not to recognise the men at once as professional bettdrs, who were quietly making wageris on the various races. Their business is seldom candjuctad openly at the fairs, but surreptitious ways are not flasrd for them to find. Philiip considered himself very much of a man, and quite capable of taking care of himself under any circumstances. To be sm,rc, he had no intention of bettang, bpi!t tie wanted to see 1 (what was going on. The men on the platform seemed to toe having a lively time; but as Philip w*as climbing over the rail to join them one of tih em stopped him. ' Run home to your mother, sonny,' said the man I sneeringly. ' Were you thinkin' of puttin' five cents on i somebody's nag ? ' 1 Philip colored angrily, dnew a roll of bills from' his pocket, and retorted, ' I guess I'm old ertough tto bet if I want to. T've seen more horse races tnis fall than yoiu've ever seen altogether. I know something about horses, too. Here, just to show you that I'm no greeiihorti, I'll part a fiver on Torchlight.' Philip's knowledge of the ins and outs of betting, however, was far more limited than -he suspected ; (but the men winlked at one anotihor. They scented an easy victim. Torchlight won the first heat, and a surprising number of crisip bills found their way into the lad's nands. Elated at sight of the money and spurred on by tlhe jeers and commendations of trie men, Philip threw caution to the winds, stateid all he Had won— 'and more — on the second Heat, and lost. In the meantime, Philip's stout friend, the motherly cake-anid»-pie woman, had chanced to see, from her place on tlhe opposite grand stand, the group, op the platform..

Toward! the ejnd of the final heat, when every otflieir neck was craned to see the horses sweep down tlhe home-et retch, Mrs. Bailey sat witih her shrewd eyes fixefcl upon Philip's face. She saw it grow white as the horses swept past Uhe judges' stand and under the wire. 'My lan|d ! ' said she. 'If I'd realised sooner what he was up to I'fct have marched, over there and rescued him ' But maybe he ain't worth saving. Dear me ! I dom't kmow what this world's comnn' to- 1 Witih, empty pockets and h-anging head Pihilip worked his way through the crowd a-nd set of! across the field toward the little white tent. Mrs. Bailey, ■surprised and disappointed, watched him until he disappeared from view. Then, with a long, legrettul sigh, she gave him up. 1 It's a pit}'— a pity ! ' she said. ' But when a mere babe like that is steeped in vice it don't take him long ito land in the penitentiary— and him the pleasiantest boy I eiver laid eyes on ' I don't know when I' ve been so mistaken in anybo<Ty7 Well, it's too bad, too bad ! ' Mrs. Bailey decided tfliat she would have notMhg, further to do with the erring Philip, but some houns later, when she had locked up her budlding Tor the night, some miotherly imlpulse impelled her to look in upojn her y ( oung neighbor for a farewell word. It was the last day of tihe fair, and she knew that the tenant would be gone in the morning. 1 After all, sayin' good-bye ain't goin' to make a gambler of me,' said she philosophically, ' and a kind word ain't goto' to do the lad any harm, if he is bad. When all's said and done, he's been the politest young thaip— ' Mrs. Bailey opened the flap of the tent and stepped in. Phili',p was seated on a wooden box, with his head against tihe gasoline tank x his face buried in his hands. He had dismissed his assistants, and he sat alone, as Mrs. Bailey said afterward,, ' just swallowed up in grief and unwashed teaoujps.' 1 See here,' said Mrs. Bailey, spreading a newspaper over an Upturned boiler and seating herself beside Philip, ' I want to know how long this here gambhji' business has been .goin' on ? You didn't strike me, somehow, as comin' of gamblin' stock.' There was no response, but something warm and wet siplaslheJd on tlhe boy's kjnee. Mrs. Bailey noticed it with a siudfden ray of hope. ' Qry away if you want to,' said she, laying a ldndly hand on Philip's shoulder. ' I don't know as I think any less of you for it. Wa^ this, by any oiiance, the fust time ycfw have done any betting ? ' Philip nodded his head. ' Sure poip, honor bright v ' ' Honor bright ! ' mumbled Philip, -with a gulp. 'The last, too.' ' Slure po;>, thC| last 7 ' ' Then you jju^st sit up here and tell me about it like a man. If you cam just convince me that I haven't made mistake in you, after all, 3'ou'll male me a happier old lady Uhan I've been for some hours I Ucclare it just maide me sick to see you with those men Tokened by her sympathy, Philip poured forth the whole stiory, adding tha(t the money he had so foolishly risik'od anld lost belonged to his employer, from whom he ha-d received it only the previous Uay ; that he had mailed most of his salary to his mother, v>no needed it to eke out a slender income, and that he was d\ie in three days at a fair in another Slate, vvifh no vksible means of reaching his destination. ' But, oh, dear ' Mrs-. Bailey,' he ermeluded, ' the worst of it all is that I'm so horribly disappointed in myself ! I dild think I had more sense. I didn't d\ream that I ooulld bo sui'oh an idiot. I'm so ashamed of—' ' I don't know but that's the one redeeming feature,' said Mtrs. Bailey. ' Seventy-five dollars ' That's a heap of money— and nsothim' to show for it ! I don't pretend to know anything about horse-racing, but they do say it's all fiixed Tip beforehand whose horse is to ■win and whose am't — that's one of the tricks of the trade. I gues« you know by this time that betting ain't >a safe piastlme ; bait there— tnere, I ain't goin' t o scold ia mite. Now you just come right home with me, and get a giood hot sup'pdr, for I don't believe you've had >a bite ; you can carry two baskets of plates back to the car for me, if ycAi like. Yom can sleep in Sam's bod — I'd kind o' like to think there was a boy sleepiln' in that bed once more— and soon's the bank's open in the mio'tfni'n' I'll see to it ihat you have money to .pay your way to wherever you want to go — and nobody a bit the wiser.' ' Except me,' said Philip, genuinely surprised and deeply to,u(che)d. ''But, Mrs. Bailey, you don't 'Itticjw one thing about me except what I've told you. How do you kfiow I'm to be truisted ? ' ' I'm willim' <t|o risik it,' returned Mrs. Bairey^boaim-

ing over heir spectacles. 'I guess a woman that's bought seven cows in her lifetime, without bein 1 cheated once, ain't goi»n' very far astray in her judgment when it comes tio ' folks— cows and folks bavin' a good many traits in common. I ain't a mite afraid of you.' ' You're jujst an aJigel ! I don't know how to thank—' ' Just a cal.e-anfd J pie angel,' s&id Mrs. Bailey, rising ca'utiojs'ly from the creating boiler. ' Come, sifiiut up shop as quick as you can, my lad. It's most time for the last train. 1 Neither Philip nor Mrs. Bailey said a word about repaying V c loan, but within a month Uie money begjan k> return in instalments. Each checjue was accompanied by a letUji Mia.li Mrs. Bailey considered was far more precious than the mtoney. She read anld reread tihose letters until tJhe pappr parted at the creases. ' The politest, the pleasantest, and the most satisfy in' boy ! ' said sTTe.— ' Youth's Companion.'