“Yes, sir, I’d like to.”
“Very well. Then in the morning report in Room D to Mr. Whalen. School takes in at eight-thirty. Here is a list of books and materials you’ll need, many of which you doubtless have already. Any books or stationery you need can be obtained at the outer office. Books may be purchased outright or rented, as you please. That’s all, I think. I hope you’ll like us here, Faulkner. You must get acquainted with the other boys, you know, and then you’ll feel more at home. Come and see me in a day or two and tell me how you are getting on. And if there’s anything you want to know or if there’s any help you need don’t hesitate to apply to Mr. Jonson, my assistant, or to me.” Mr. Dennison shook hands again and Joe, armed with the printed list of books and materials, expressed his thanks and passed out into the corridor. A gong had sounded a moment before and the stairways and halls were thronged with students. No one, however, paid any attention to Joe and he left the big building and walked across the town to Main Street and turned southward, his eyes busy as he went.
The sky was still gray and Main Street was ankle-deep in yellow-brown slush, and Amesville did not, perhaps, look its best even yet. But the buildings, if not so fine as those of Akron, were solid and substantial for the most part, and the stores presented enticing windows and leavened the grayness with colour and brightness. It seemed, he decided, a busy, bustling little city—he had already ascertained that it boasted a population of twenty-five thousand and the honor of being the county seat—and it didn’t require any great effort of imagination to fancy himself back in Akron.
Joe not only observed but he studied, and for a reason. To let you into a secret which he had so far confided to no one, Joe had no intention of allowing his mother to pay Aunt Sarah for his board and lodging for very long. He meant to find some sort of work that he could perform before and after school hours. What it was to be he did not yet know, although there was one job he expected to be able to secure if nothing more promising offered. He was fairly certain, although his mother had not taken him into her confidence to that extent, that hotel housekeepers did not receive munificent wages, and he realised that his mother, used to having practically every comfort money could buy, would find it hard enough to get on without having to send a part of her monthly salary to Aunt Sarah.
The job that he felt pretty certain of obtaining was that of delivering newspapers. Joe was well enough acquainted with the newspaper business to know that it was always difficult for circulation managers to find boys enough to keep the routes covered. He had had some experience of the kind, for when he was in grammar school he had delivered the Enterprise all one Summer and part of a Winter, until, in fact, a chronic condition of wet feet caused his mother to interfere. His father had not at any time approved of the proceeding, for Mr. Faulkner had been a man of position in Akron and it had seemed to him that in carrying a newspaper route Joe was performing labor beneath him and, perhaps, casting aspersions on the financial and social standing of Mr. John Faulkner. Joe had had to beg long for permission and his father had agreed with ill-grace. The fun had soon worn off, but Joe had kept on with the work long after his chum, who had embarked in the enterprise with him, had given up. It didn’t bring in much money, and Joe didn’t need what it did bring, since his father was lavishly generous in the matter of pocket-money. It was principally the fact that his father had predicted that he would soon tire of it that kept him doggedly at it when the cold weather came. Getting up before light and tramping through snow and slush to toss twisted-up papers into doorways soon became the veriest drudgery to the fourteen-year-old boy, and only pride prevented him from crying quits. When, finally, wet boots and continual sniffling caused his mother to put her foot down Joe was secretly very, very glad!
But delivering newspapers wasn’t the work he wanted now, unless he could find none other, and, as he went down Main Street just before noon, his eyes and mind were busy with possibilities. To find a position as a clerk was out of the question, since he wouldn’t be able to work during the busiest hours. Some labor that he might perform after school in the afternoon and during the evening was what he hoped to find. And so, as he passed a store or an office, he considered its possibilities. He paused for several minutes in front of one of the big windows of Miller and Tappen’s Department Store, but finally went on with a shake of his head. If it had been before instead of after the holidays he might have found employment there as an extra hand in the wrapping or shipping department, but now they would more likely be turning help away than taking it on. A drug store on the corner engaged his attention next, and then a brilliantly red hardware store across the street, a hardware store that evidently did a large business in athletic goods if one was to judge by the attractive display in one broad window. But Joe couldn’t think of any position in one or the other that he could apply for. Further along, a handsome new twelve-story structure was nearing completion, and he stopped awhile to watch operations. It was the only “skyscraper” in sight and consequently stuck up above the surrounding five- and six-story edifices like, to use Joe’s metaphor, a sore thumb! It was a fine-looking building, though, and he found himself feeling a civic pride in it, quite as though he was already a settled citizen of the town. Well, for that matter, he told himself, he guessed Amesville wasn’t such a bad place, after all, and if only he could find a job that would bring him in enough to pay Aunt Sarah for board and lodging——
But at that moment the noon whistle blew, a bell struck twelve somewhere and Joe turned back toward Brewer Street. Aunt Sarah had enjoined him to be back before half-past twelve, which was dinner time, and he recalled her assertion that she disliked having folks tardy at meals. So his search for employment must wait until later.
His walking had made him hungry again and he viewed veal chops smothered with tomato sauce and the riced potatoes piled high in the blue dish and the lima beans beside it with vast approval. There was a generous plate of graham bread, too, and a pyramid of grape jelly that swayed every time Amanda crossed the floor. He satisfied Aunt Sarah’s curiosity as to the interview with the high school principal while satisfying his own appetite. Aunt Sarah said “Hmph!” and that she’d heard tell Mr. Dennison was a very competent principal. Thereupon she went into the past history of the Amesville High School and its heads, and Joe, diligently addressing himself to the viands, told himself that his Aunt Sarah seemed astonishingly well informed on the subject. Later he discovered that Aunt Sarah was well informed on most subjects and that when it came to town news she was better than a paper!
“I had Amanda bake an apple pudding,” she informed him presently, when his appetite began to languish. “I guess boys usually like something sweet to top off with. Do you eat apple pudding?”
“Yes, Aunt. Most any kind of pudding. But don’t you—don’t you go to any trouble about me, please. I—I can eat whatever there is. I’ve got a fine old appetite.”