CHAPTER XXVIII.

Charlie seeks Employment.

Charlie had been at borne some weeks, comparatively idle; at least he so considered himself, as the little he did in the way of collecting rents and looking up small accounts for Mr. Walters he regarded as next to nothing, it not occupying half his time. A part of each day he spent in attendance on his father, who seemed better satisfied with his ministrations than with those of his wife and daughters. This proved to be very fortunate for all parties, as it enabled the girls to concentrate their attention on their sewing—of which they had a vast deal on hand.

One day, when Esther and Charlie were walking out together, the latter remarked: "Ess, I wish I could find some regular and profitable employment, or was apprenticed to some good trade that would enable me to assist mother a little; I'd even go to service if I could do no better—anything but being idle whilst you are all so hard at work. It makes me feel very uncomfortable."

"I would be very glad if you could procure some suitable employment. I don't wish you to go to service again, that is out of the question. Of whom have you made inquiry respecting a situation."

"Oh, of lots of people; they can tell me of any number of families who are in want of a footman, but no one appears to know of a 'person who is willing to receive a black boy as an apprentice to a respectable calling. It's too provoking; I really think, Ess, that the majority of white folks imagine that we are only fit for servants, and incapable of being rendered useful in any other capacity. If that terrible misfortune had not befallen father, I should have learned his trade."

"Ah!" sighed Esther, "but for that we should all have been happier. But, Charlie," she added, "how do you know that you cannot obtain any other employment than that of a servant? Have you ever applied personally to any one?"

"No, Esther, I haven't; but you know as well as I that white masters won't receive coloured apprentices."

"I think a great deal of that is taken for granted," rejoined Esther, "try some one yourself."

"I only wish I knew of any one to try," responded Charlie, "I'd hazard the experiment at any rate."

"Look over the newspaper in the morning," advised Esther; "there are always a great many wants advertised—amongst them you may perhaps find something suitable."

"Well, I will Ess—now then we won't talk about that any more—pray tell me, if I'm not too inquisitive, what do you purpose buying with your money—a wedding-dress, eh?" he asked, with a merry twinkle in his eye.

Esther blushed and sighed, as she answered: "No, Charlie, that is all over for the present. I told him yesterday I could not think of marrying now, whilst we are all so unsettled. It grieved me to do it, Charlie, but I felt that it was my duty. Cad and I are going to add our savings to mother's; that, combined with what we shall receive for father's tools, good-will, &c, will be sufficient to furnish another house; and as soon as we can succeed in that, we will leave Mr. Walters, as it is embarrassing to remain under present circumstances."

"And what is to become of little Em?—she surely won't remain alone with him?"

"Mr. Walters has proposed that when we procure a house she shall come and board with us. He wants us to take one of his houses, and offers some fabulous sum for the child's board, which it would be unreasonable in us to take. Dear, good man, he is always complaining that we are too proud, and won't let him assist us when he might. If we find a suitable house I shall be delighted to have her. I love the child for her mother's sake and her own."

"I wonder if they will ever send her away, as they did Clarence?" asked
Charlie.

"I do not know," she rejoined. "Mr. Balch told me that he should not insist upon it if the child was unwilling."

The next day Charlie purchased all the morning papers he could obtain, and sat down to look over the list of wants. There were hungry people in want of professed cooks; divers demands for chamber-maids, black or white; special inquiries for waiters and footmen, in which the same disregard of colour was observable; advertisements for partners in all sorts of businesses, and for journeymen in every department of mechanical operations; then there were milliners wanted, sempstresses, and even theatrical assistants, but nowhere in the long columns could he discover: "Wanted, a boy." Charlie searched them over and over, but the stubborn fact stared him in the face—there evidently were no boys wanted; and he at length concluded that he either belonged to a very useless class, or that there was an unaccountable prejudice existing in the city against the rising generation.

Charlie folded up the papers with a despairing sigh, and walked to the post-office to mail a letter to Mrs. Bird that he had written the previous evening. Having noticed a number of young men examining some written notices that were posted up, he joined the group, and finding it was a list of wants he eagerly read them over.

To his great delight he found there was one individual at least, who thought boys could be rendered useful to society, and who had written as follows: "Wanted, a youth of about thirteen years of age who writes a good hand, and is willing to make himself useful in an office.—Address, Box No. 77, Post-office."

"I'm their man!" said Charlie to himself, as he finished perusing it—"I'm just the person. I'll go home and write to them immediately;" and accordingly he hastened back to the house, sat down, and wrote a reply to the advertisement. He then privately showed it to Esther, who praised the writing and composition, and pronounced the whole very neatly done.

Charlie then walked down to the post-office to deposit his precious reply; and after dropping it into the brass mouth of the mail-box, he gazed in after it, and saw it glide slowly down into the abyss below.

How many more had stopped that day to add their contributions to the mass which Charlie's letter now joined? Merchants on the brink of ruin had deposited missives whose answer would make or break them; others had dropped upon the swelling heap tidings that would make poor men rich—rich men richer; maidens came with delicately written notes, perfumed and gilt-edged, eloquent with love—and cast them amidst invoices and bills of lading. Letters of condolence and notes of congratulation jostled each other as they slid down the brass throat; widowed mothers' tender epistles to wandering sons; the letters of fond wives to absent husbands; erring daughters' last appeals to outraged parents; offers of marriage; invitations to funerals; hope and despair; joy and sorrow; misfortune and success—had glided in one almost unbroken stream down that ever-distended and insatiable brass throat.

Charlie gave one more look at the opening, then sauntered homeward, building by the way houses of fabulous dimensions, with the income he anticipated from the situation if he succeeded in procuring it. Throughout the next day he was in a state of feverish anxiety and expectation, and Mrs. Ellis two or three times inquired the meaning of the mysterious whisperings and glances that were exchanged between him and Esther. The day wore away, and yet no answer—the next came and passed, still no communication; and Charlie had given up in despair, when he was agreeably surprised by the following:——

"Messrs. Twining, Western, and Twining will be much obliged to Charles Ellis, if he will call at their office, 567, Water-street, to-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, as they would like to communicate further with him respecting a situation in their establishment."

Charlie flew up stairs to Esther's room, and rushing in precipitately, exclaimed, "Oh! Ess—I've got it, I've got it—see here," he shouted, waving the note over his head; "Hurrah! Hurrah! Just read it, Ess, only just read it!"

"How can I, Charlie?" said she, with a smile, "if you hold it in your hand and dance about in that frantic style—give it me. There now—keep quiet a moment, and let me read it." After perusing it attentively, Esther added, "Don't be too sanguine, Charlie. You see by the tenor of the note that the situation is not promised you; they only wish to see you respecting it. You may not secure it, after all—some obstacle may arise of which we are not at present aware."

"Go on, old raven—croak away!" said Charlie, giving her at the same time a facetious poke.

"There's many a slip between the cup and the lip," she added.

"Oh, Ess!" he rejoined, "don't throw cold water on a fellow in that style—don't harbour so many doubts. Do you think they would take the trouble to write if they did not intend to give me the situation? Go away, old raven," concluded he, kissing her, "and don't let us have any more croaking."

Charlie was bounding from the room, when he was stopped by his sister, who begged him not to say anything to their mother respecting it, but wait until they knew the issue of the interview; and, if he secured the situation, it would be a very agreeable surprise to her.

We will now visit, in company with the reader, the spacious offices of Messrs. Twining, Western, and Twining, where we shall find Mr. Western about consigning to the waste-paper basket a large pile of letters. This gentleman was very fashionably dressed, of dark complexion, with the languid air and drawling intonation of a Southerner.

At an adjoining desk sat an elderly sharp-faced gentleman, who was looking over his spectacles at the movements of his partner. "What a mass of letters you are about to destroy," he remarked.

Mr. Western took from his month the cigar he was smoking, and after puffing from between his lips a thin wreath of smoke, replied: "Some of the most atwocious scwawls that man ever attempted to pewuse,—weplies to the advertisement. Out of the whole lot there wasn't more than a dozen amongst them that were weally pwesentable. Here is one wemawkably well witten: I have desiwed the witer to call this morning at eleven. I hope he will make as favouwable an impwession as his witing has done. It is now almost eleven—I pwesume he will be here soon."

Scarcely had Mr. Western finished speaking, ere the door opened, and Esther entered, followed by Charlie. Both the gentlemen rose, and Mr. Twining offered her a chair.

Esther accepted the proffered seat, threw up her veil, and said, in a slightly embarrassed tone, "My brother here, took the liberty of replying to an advertisement of yours, and you were kind enough to request him to call at eleven to-day."

"We sent a note to your brother?" said Mr. Twining, in a tone of surprise.

"Yes, sir, and here it is," said she, extending it to him.

Mr. Twining glanced over it, and remarked, "This is your writing, Western;" then taking Charlie's letter from the desk of Mr. Western, he asked, in a doubting tone, "Is this your own writing and composition?"

"My own writing and composing," answered Charlie.

"And it is vewy cweditable to you, indeed," said Mr. Western.

Both the gentlemen looked at the note again, then at Charlie, then at Esther, and lastly at each other; but neither seemed able to say anything, and evident embarrassment existed on both sides.

"And so you thought you would twy for the situation," at last remarked Mr.
Western to Charlie.

"Yes, sir," he answered. "I was and am very anxious to obtain some employment." "Have you a father?" asked Mr. Twining.

"Yes, sir; but he was badly injured by the mob last summer, and will never be able to work again."

"That's a pity," said Western, sympathisingly; "and what have you been doing?"

"Nothing very recently. I broke my arm last spring, and was obliged to go into the country for my health. I have not long returned."

"Do your pawents keep house?"

"Not at present. We are staying with a friend. Our house was burned down by the rioters."

This conversation recalled so vividly their past trials, that Esther's eyes grew watery, and she dropped her veil to conceal a tear that was trembling on the lid.

"How vewy unfortunate!" said Mr. Western, sympathisingly; "vewy twying, indeed!" then burying his chin in his hand, he sat silently regarding them for a moment or two.

"Have you come to any decision about taking him?" Esther at last ventured to ask of Mr. Twining.

"Taking him!—oh, dear me, I had almost forgot. Charles, let me see you write something—here, take this seat."

Charlie sat down as directed, and dashed off a few lines, which he handed to Mr. Twining, who looked at it over and over; then rising, he beckoned to his partner to follow him into an adjoining room.

"Well, what do you say?" asked Western, after they had closed the door behind them. "Don't you think we had better engage him?"

"Engage him!" exclaimed Twining—"why, you surprise me, Western—the thing's absurd; engage a coloured boy as under clerk! I never heard of such a thing."

"I have often," drawled Western; "there are the gweatest number of them in
New Orleans."

"Ah, but New Orleans is a different place; such a thing never occurred in
Philadelphia."

"Well, let us cweate a pwecedent, then. The boy wites wemarkably well, and will, no doubt, suit us exactly. It will be a chawity to take him. We need not care what others say—evewybody knows who we are and what we are?"

"No, Western; I know the North better than you do; it wouldn't answer at all here. We cannot take the boy—it is impossible; it would create a rumpus amongst the clerks, who would all feel dreadfully insulted by our placing a nigger child on an equality with them. I assure you the thing is out of the question."

"Well, I must say you Northern people are perfectly incompwehensible. You pay taxes to have niggers educated, and made fit for such places—and then won't let them fill them when they are pwepared to do so. I shall leave you, then, to tell them we can't take him. I'm doosed sowwy for it—I like his looks."

Whilst Mr. Western and his partner were discussing in one room, Charlie and
Esther were awaiting with some anxiety their decision in the other.

"I think they are going to take me," said Charlie; "you saw how struck they appeared to be with the writing."

"They admired it, I know, my dear; but don't be too sanguine."

"I feel sure they are going to take me," repeated he with a hopeful countenance.

Esther made no reply, and they remained in silence until Mr. Twining returned to the room.

After two or three preparatory ahems, he said to Esther; "I should like to take your brother very much; but you see, in consequence of there being so much excitement just now, relative to Abolitionism and kindred subjects, that my partner and myself—that is, I and Mr. Western—think—or rather feel—that just now it would be rather awkward for us to receive him. We should like to take him; but his colour, miss—his complexion is a fatal objection. It grieves me to be obliged to tell you this; but I think, under the circumstances, it would be most prudent for us to decline to receive him. We are very sorry—but our clerks are all young men, and have a great deal of prejudice, and I am sure he would be neither comfortable nor happy with them. If I can serve you in any other way—"

"There is nothing that you can do that I am aware of," said Esther, rising;
"I thank you, and am sorry that we have occupied so much of your time."

"Oh, don't mention it," said Mr. Twining, evidently happy to get rid of them; and, opening the door, he bowed them out of the office.

The two departed sadly, and they walked on for some distance in silence. At last Esther pressed his hand, and, in a choking voice, exclaimed, "Charlie, my dear boy, I'd give my life if it would change your complexion—if it would make you white! Poor fellow! your battle of life will be a hard one to fight!"

"I know it, Ess; but I shouldn't care to be white if I knew I would not have a dear old Ess like you for a sister," he answered, pressing her hand affectionately. "I don't intend to be conquered," he continued; "I'll fight it out to the last—this won't discourage me. I'll keep on trying," said he, determinedly—"if one won't, perhaps another will."

For two or three days Charlie could hear of nothing that would be at all suitable for him. At last, one morning he saw an advertisement for a youth to learn the engraver's business—one who had some knowledge of drawing preferred; to apply at Thomas Blatchford's, bank-note engraver. "Thomas Blatchford," repeated Mr. Walters, as Charlie read it over—"why that is the Mr. Blatchford, the Abolitionist. I think you have some chance there most decidedly—I would advise you to take those sketches of yours and apply at once."

Charlie ran upstairs, and selecting the best-executed of his drawings, put them in a neat portfolio, and, without saying anything to Esther or his mother, hastened away to Mr. Blatchford's. He was shown into a room where a gentleman was sitting at a table examining some engraved plates. "Is this Mr. Blatchford's?" asked Charlie.

"That is my name, my little man—do you want to see me," he kindly inquired.

"Yes, sir. You advertised for a boy to learn the engraving business, I believe."

"Well; and what then?"

"I have come to apply for the situation."

"You—you apply?" said he, in a tone of surprise.

"Yes, sir," faltered Charlie; "Mr. Walters recommended me to do so."

"Ah, you know Mr. Walters, then," he rejoined.

"Yes, sir; he is a great friend of my father's—we are living with him at present."

"What have you in your portfolio, there?" enquired Mr. Blatchford. Charlie spread before him the sketches he had made during the summer, and also some ornamental designs suitable for the title-pages of books. "Why, these are excellently well done," exclaimed he, after examining them attentively; "who taught you?"

Charlie hereupon briefly related his acquaintance with the artist, and his efforts to obtain employment, and their results, besides many other circumstances connected with himself and family. Mr. Blatchford became deeply interested, and, at the end of a long conversation, delighted Charlie by informing him that if he and his mother could agree as to terms he should be glad to receive him as an apprentice.

Charlie could scarcely believe the evidence of his own ears, and leaving his portfolio on the table was hastening away.

"Stop! stop!" cried Mr. Blatchford, with a smile; "you have not heard all I wish to say. I would be much obliged to your mother if she would call at my house this evening, and then we can settle the matter definitely."

Charlie seemed to tread on air as he walked home. Flying up to Esther—his usual confidant—be related to her the whole affair, and gave at great length his conversation with Mr. Blatchford.

"That looks something like," said she; "I am delighted with the prospect that is opening to you. Let us go and tell mother,"—and, accordingly, off they both started, to carry the agreeable intelligence to Mrs. Ellis.

That, evening Charlie, his mother, and Mr. Walters went to the house of Mr. Blatchford. They were most, kindly received, and all the arrangements made for Charlie's apprenticeship. He was to remain one month on trial; and if, at the end of that period, all parties were satisfied, he was to be formally indentured.

Charlie looked forward impatiently to the following Monday, on which day he was to commence his apprenticeship. In the intervening time he held daily conferences with Kinch, as he felt their intimacy would receive a slight check after he entered upon his new pursuit.

"Look here, old fellow," said Charlie; "it won't do for you to be lounging on the door-steps of the office, nor be whistling for me under the windows. Mr. Blatchford spoke particularly against my having playmates around in work hours; evenings I shall always be at home, and then you can come and see me as often as you like."

Since his visit to Warmouth, Charlie had been much more particular respecting his personal appearance, dressed neater, and was much more careful of his clothes. He had also given up marbles, and tried to persuade Kinch to do the same.

"I'd cut marbles, Kinch," said he to him one evening, when they were walking together, "if I were you; it makes one such a fright—covers one with chalk-marks and dirt from head to foot. And another thing, Kinch; you have an abundance of good clothes—do wear them, and try and look more like a gentleman."

"Dear me!" said Kinch, rolling up the white of his eyes—"just listen how we are going on! Hadn't I better get an eye-glass and pair of light kid gloves?"

"Oh, Kinch!" said Charlie, gravely, "I'm not joking—I mean what I say. You don't know how far rough looks and an untidy person go against one. I do wish you would try and keep yourself decent." "Well, there then—I will," answered Kinch. "But, Charlie, I'm afraid, with your travelling and one thing or other, you will forget your old playmate by-and-by, and get above him."

Charlie's eyes moistened; and, with a boy's impulsiveness, he threw his arm over Kinch's shoulder, and exclaimed with emphasis, "Never, old fellow, never—not as long as my name is Charlie Ellis! You mustn't be hurt at what I said, Kinch—I think more of these things than I used to—I see the importance of them. I find that any one who wants to get on must be particular in little things as well great, and I must try and be a man now—for you know things don't glide on as smoothly with us as they used. I often think of our fun in the old house—ah, perhaps we'll have good times in another of our own yet!"—and with this Charlie and his friend separated for the night.