“Did you ever read ‘Alice in Wonderland!’” asked the buyer.
Harry smiled. “Long ago,” he answered. “I’ve read ‘Through the Looking Glass,’ and ‘Treasure Island,’ and ‘Robinson Crusoe’ and lots of books like that. I call those my baby books. I read adventure stories now, but I’m trying to read Shakespeare and Thackeray and Dickens. I don’t understand Shakespeare so very well yet, but I love ‘Henry Esmond’ and ‘The Tale of Two Cities.’”
Mr. Rexford’s eyebrows were elevated in surprise. He scrutinized Harry’s flushed, animated face. Yes, here was a boy who really loved books. Such a boy would be extremely valuable in his department. He made mental note of it and resolved to set the wheels in motion to bring about the desired end.
“Forty-five, forty-five!” shrilled Miss Welch’s high voice.
“That is I. I must go.” Harry set off up the aisle toward the exchange desk.
“An obedient boy, too,” murmured Mr. Rexford, as he watched Harry bring up at the desk, stand in a respectfully attentive attitude, then hurry off on his errand. “Well, we’ll see. We’ll see.”
Contrary to all expectation, Mr. Barton let Harry strictly alone for several days. He ordered him about in his usual gruff fashion, but did not again broach the subject on which he and Harry had disagreed. Then, suddenly and without warning, he began a series of petty persecutions of the boy that caused Miss Welch to glower with rage and hurl caustic remarks in his direction that he could hardly fail to overhear. He began operations by detaining Harry in the department on his school mornings just long enough to give the appearance of deliberate lateness. On the first morning this had happened, Miss Leonard had looked surprised, and accepted his excuse. On the second morning she had looked displeased, on the third as well as the fourth mornings, she had scolded him and given him demerits. She had flatly refused to listen to his plea of being detained and responded severely that any boy who wished to be in his class on time, could be on time.
Dropping the pleasantness with which she had treated him on his entrance into her room, she became stern and uncompromising. She had been greatly attracted toward Harry in the beginning, and it annoyed her to find him in the least disappointing. He already had five demerits on his card and he had been in the store only three weeks. At the rate he was going he would hardly last the month. Absorbed in her own affairs, Miss Leonard had not inquired into Messenger 45’s record at the exchange desk, and, therefore, knew nothing of the boy’s trials. She had anticipated frequent trouble from Teddy Burke, but to her surprise none arose in his corner. One demerit, and one only, disfigured Teddy’s card.
Poor Harry was in despair. Keenly sensitive, he read Miss Leonard’s attitude toward him only too correctly, yet he could neither do nor say that which would place him once more on the pleasant footing that had been his when he began his school work. He talked matters over with Teddy, who was deeply downcast over his chum’s misfortunes, but could suggest no remedy beyond offering “to tell Miss Leonard all about it,” or to “punch that old snapping-turtle,” as he had fondly named Mr. Barton.
“If he gives me any more demerits, I don’t know what I’ll do. Miss Welch says to go to Mr. Marsh about it, but I hate to be such a baby,” mourned Harry, as he and Teddy trudged home together one crisp evening in late October.