“What’s the good? I know enough for my business, and I’m gen’rally respected in town. I’ve been selec’man once, and I’m overseer of the poor now.”
Ben smiled. He saw that Mr. Flack was well satisfied with his success in life, but he felt within himself yearnings and aspirations which probably were unknown to the shoemaker.
“Well, good day, Mr. Flack!” he said after a brief pause.
“Good day, Ben! I guess you and me will get along well. I’ve heard that you are good to work, and I’ll do the right thing by you. Besides what I promised your stepfather, I’ll give you a new suit of clothes when you are twenty-one, and after that you can get good wages, as much as a dollar-fifty per day likely.”
“I’ll think over what you have said, Mr. Flack,” said Ben gravely.
He turned and left the shop. He felt that he had reached an important point in his life. He resented the utter selfishness which actuated his stepfather in thus mapping out his future life, dooming him to an uncongenial occupation for the paltry sum of fifty dollars a year paid to himself.
Had Jacob Winter been a poor man, there would have been some excuse for his course, but he was far from being poor. There were no very rich men in Wrayburn, but he was one of the most prominent in the amount of his worldly possessions.
Moreover, he had managed to get into his possession the two thousand dollars belonging to his mother. And it was for a paltry fifty dollars a year that Ben was to be deprived of the advantages of a high-school education.
“It’s a shame!” he cried hotly.
“What’s a shame, Ben?”