Go-Ahead; Or, The Fisher-Boy's Motto

by Harry Castlemon

As Bob spoke he gave one more glance at the letter which, from the very pinnacle of hope and joy, had plunged them into the lowest depths of despair, and then walked slowly away.

Neither of these two boys was in an enviable position just then; but bad as was Tom's condition, the fisher-boy's was infinitely worse. Deeply in debt, his boat and money gone, the family entirely destitute of provisions, it was no wonder that Bob thought his lot in life a hard one, and that he should feel utterly discouraged. It seemed to him that the last three weeks of his life had been a dream. It had certainly been a pleasant one, for he had lived in a little world of his own creation, and had been free from all cares and troubles. The loss of his fine skiff—a misfortune which, had he been in his sober senses, would have alarmed him—he had regarded as something scarcely worth thinking about. He had been so fully occupied in contemplating the bright future which his imagination had pictured for him, that matters to which he should have given his immediate attention were deemed unworthy of notice. But just when he imagined himself on the eve of seeing all his glorious anticipations realized, he had been suddenly and rudely awakened, only to find himself still a fisher-boy, and, what was worse, the poorest one in the village. He had good reason for feeling down-hearted. The failure of Tom's splendid scheme was a serious matter for him, and it was a long time before he could recover from the shock which the reading of the letter had given him. For two or three hours he walked listlessly about, scarcely knowing where he was, or what he was doing, and it was not until it began to grow dark, and the wharves were deserted, that he was able to muster up courage enough to think the matter over calmly.

His disappointment, although he thought it a very severe blow, was just what he needed. It did away with his delusion and his ideas about acquiring riches without labor, destroyed every one of the foolish notions Tom had put into his head, and, from that hour, Bob Jennings was himself again. He knew that, before he made any attempt to get out of his difficulties, he ought to try to make some amends for what he had done. He knew, also, right where he ought to begin; and, better than all, he had the moral courage to do what he believed to be right in the matter. He went home at a more rapid pace than he had exhibited for many a day, and found his mother engaged in sewing by the light of a solitary candle.

While Bob had been idling away his time, and waiting for fortune to come to him, she had worked early and late to earn the money to buy the food he ate. She had used very sparingly of his little fortune, never spending a cent of it unless it was absolutely necessary, while he had, at one time, deliberately thrown away five dollars of it; or, what was the same thing, given it to support a couple of professional swindlers in their idleness.

The fisher-boy did not waste time in thinking how he ought to begin the conversation, for a single glance at his mother's pale, patient face made the load on his conscience heavier than ever, and he was anxious to get rid of it as soon as possible. With tears of genuine repentance, and repeated promises of amendment, Bob told the story of his mistake, and of the deception of which he had been guilty. He did not try to defend himself by making excuses, but was manly enough to make a clean breast of the whole matter; he freely confessed his fault, and begged her forgiveness. Then he felt a great deal better; and, for the first time in three weeks, he was able to look his mother in the face. During those weeks of inactivity she had had no word of fault to find with Bob, and she had none now; but she had some good advice to give him, and the fisher-boy, having been thoroughly convinced by his recent experience that his mother's knowledge of the world was superior to his own, listened attentively to every word of it, and mentally resolved that he would never take a step in any direction without first asking her permission and advice.

It was midnight before the conversation ceased, and Bob, who did not feel at all sleepy just then, took a sharp-pointed case-knife from the cupboard and went out. He walked around behind the house, and by the light of the moon, which was shining brightly, read over his motto. "I'll never forget it again," said he. "If I had only been wise enough to keep it in mind, I never would have been in this miserable scrape."

Having given utterance to this opinion, Bob went to work with his knife, and at the end of an hour, another motto had been cut in the boards under the first. He then went to bed, well satisfied with what he had done, and believing that he had taken the first step toward extricating himself from his difficulties. The next morning he was up with the sun, and, shouldering a saw-horse, he set out for Mr. Henry's store.

"Have you hired a man to saw that wood?" he asked of the grocer.

"No," was the reply, and it sent a thrill of gladness through the heart of the fisher-boy. "If you want the job, I'll give you seventy-five cents a cord for sawing and splitting it."

Bob accepted the offer, and in five minutes more, he had begun the work of retrieving his fortune.