Owen's Fortune; Or, "Durable Riches"

"I hope indeed you will do the best you can whatever your hands find to do. But as to making your fortune, that is another matter, and I don't know that I can wish you success in that. Seek the heavenly riches, my boy, and amid all the lower aims of earth, keep your heart fresh and pure by yielding yourself to the Saviour, and asking His grace to live only for Him."

The next day Owen and his uncle started on their journey; they had a long way to go, and it was quite a novelty to Owen to go any distance in a train. At first he was very sorrowful; the little village had been his home all his life, and he felt that no other place could ever be the same to him. His eyes filled as he thought of his dear father, but he was glad to know that he was doing just what his father wished in going with his uncle. By-and-by the train stopped at a station, and when they went on again, Owen found that he and his uncle were alone in the carriage. He wished he would talk to him; his father would have pointed out places of interest, and been so companionable, but his uncle seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"Have we much farther to go, please?" ventured Owen at last.

"About an hour more," said his uncle, turning round, as if suddenly aware of his presence. "What can you do?" he asked, after a pause; "have you been accustomed to work at all?"

"I did odd jobs about the house, sir, but I never went out to work; father wanted me to learn all I could."

"Wanted to make a scholar of you, did he?"

"No; but he said learning was always a good thing, and he would give me as much as he could."

"Humph, your father was always an unpractical man. You might have been earning a nice little sum now."

"Perhaps I shall be able to work better for what father taught me," said the boy, timidly.

Mr. Hadleigh looked at his orphan nephew, and said more kindly, "Perhaps you will; your father was a good man, though he did not know how to make money. Do you know much of arithmetic?"

"Yes, I am very fond of it."

"That's a good thing; a quick reckoner is valuable in business. Of course you know you will have to work. Your aunt and Clarice both help, and I can keep no idler on the premises."

"Is Clarice my cousin?"

"Yes; she is some years older than you, though. She helps me with the books, and makes a good business woman. I think that everybody, young people specially, should stick to their work. If people did that, there would not be so many poor about."

"But people cannot help being poor, can they? Some are always richer than others."

"That may be, but all can earn their own living, if they will. If not, they have no business to live."

Owen was rather startled at this view of things, and did not reply. But the end of the journey was nearly reached; already he saw tall chimneys and spires, and numbers of houses in the distance, and soon they were in that dull haze that always surrounds large towns. But there was no time to think about it, for the train pulled up at a large station, and all was bustle and confusion, as people ran here and there in anxiety for their luggage.

His uncle thought Owen quite capable of carrying his own belongings, and led the way down a narrow street into a broader one, with some fine buildings; then, to the boy's surprise, over a bridge, which crossed a fine dock filled with shipping, for he had no idea that Barmston was a seaport town. He was tempted to stop and look at the busy life, where the twinkling lights of the lamps were reflected in the dark waters of the dock. But his uncle was walking with rapid steps, and he ran to keep up with him. As he turned into the broad market-place, he entered a bright, cheerful grocer's shop, over which Owen had just time to catch the name "Hadleigh" in large letters.

His uncle passed at once into the counting-house, and entered into eager conversation with a man who was there, and a young girl, who, Owen concluded, was his cousin. But nobody seemed to think of the orphan, who sat on his box in a corner of the bright and busy shop, unnoticed and uncared for. After a while he grew so interested in watching the various customers that he almost forgot where he was, till a clear voice close at his side asked pleasantly, "Are you my cousin Owen?"

CHAPTER III.

MAKING HIS FORTUNE

OWEN sprang up and acknowledged the relationship, following the girl through the back of the shop, upstairs to a pleasant room, where tea was already spread.

"Father is busy with Dawson just for a few minutes," she said, "but mother will be here presently. Oh, there she is. Mother, here is Owen; where is he to sleep?"

"In the little room at the top of the stairs," replied a middle-aged, active-looking woman, who stood before Owen, without giving him a word of greeting, saying, critically, "You look pretty capable; are you willing to work?"

"Oh yes, ma'am; I will do anything I can."

"That is right," said Clarice, kindly; "come, I will show you your room, and you can wash your hands and face, and then come down to tea. I expect you want something after your journey."

Owen looked gratefully at his cousin as he carried his box upstairs after her. The little room in which she left him was dreary and cold, so different to his pretty little bedroom at home, which his father had made so cheerful and pleasant. But Owen was determined not to look on the dark side. He peeped out of the window; it looked down on the busy street, and the tops of the houses. As far as he could see were house-tops, and he wondered how far off the country could be. He felt a little sore at his aunt's cool manner, and was almost inclined to cry, as he turned to the washstand to follow his cousin's suggestion. The cold water refreshed him, and things looked brighter when he made his way down to the parlour, and found only Clarice waiting for him.

"You and I will have tea by ourselves," she said, cheerfully; "father is not ready yet, and mother has gone down to him. Would you like a slice of ham? Here is bread, and a nice hot cup of tea. I wonder how you will like the town."

So Clarice chatted away, trying to make the boy at home. The warm tea revived him, and his cousin's kindness won his heart, so that when she said, "I am so glad you have come, I know we shall be good friends," he was able to respond, "Yes, I am glad too; you are good and pretty."

Clarice laughed. "Nobody ever told me that before. I have to work too hard to be pretty. Father and mother let no one be idle. We must do all we can to make a fortune." But she said it somewhat bitterly, and Owen did not know how to reply, though he said, after a pause, "Don't you want to make a fortune?"

"I would rather enjoy what money we have," said Clarice. "What is the good of going on heaping up money all your life, and never enjoying what it brings at all?"

"That is what Mrs. Mitchell said."

"Who is Mrs. Mitchell?"

"A neighbour of ours. She said it was best to get 'durable riches.'"

"What sort of riches are they?"

"I don't quite know, but they are in the Bible; I read it there."

"Oh," said Clarice, "I don't know much of the Bible. Perhaps it would be better if I did, but father would not like me to spend time reading it. Will you have some more tea? No? Then we had better go down, and father and mother can come up. Father never likes to leave the counting-house unless one of us is there, but I don't see why he can't trust Dawson."

Owen followed his cousin downstairs. The shop was now brightly lighted up, and the fragrant smell of newly-ground coffee pervaded the place. Looking out at the door, he could see the twinkling lights of the pier at the end of the broad street, and the tall, dark masts of the vessels in the river; while nearer were rows of bright shops, and many feet hurrying past. It was a great change for the country-bred boy.

"What time do the people go to bed here?" he asked, as he returned to his cousin.

"Why, not yet for a long time."

"They all look as if it was the middle of the day, and in Westbrook every one was at home and quiet after tea."

Clarice laughed. "You will see a great difference here, Owen."

The next morning his uncle told him he must set to work, and gave him some employment at once, quite to Owen's satisfaction, for he did not care to be idle. It was a new thing to be busy about a shop, but he liked the change. It had been arranged that he should serve his uncle for the first three months without payment, only getting his board and lodging; but after that, if he proved capable, his uncle promised him a small salary.

"Of course you will have to buy your clothes out of it. But if you really wish to make your fortune, take my advice, never spend more than you can help! Save up all you can, and never buy anything you can possibly do without."

Owen promised obedience, and threw his whole heart into his work. Poor lad, he seemed in danger of forgetting his father's advice, and the unworldly lessons he had learnt in earlier days, as he made haste to be rich. For no one in his uncle's household seemed to think of anything beyond this present life. His uncle was somewhat strict with him, though on the whole he treated him kindly, while his aunt was very cool and stern. But Clarice was very fond of her young cousin, and whenever she could obtain her father's consent, would take him out with her, and walk along the river-side, or round the docks, where the boy never ceased to wonder at the new and strange things he saw.

Among the men and boys employed in the shop, Owen was much attracted by a young errand-boy, about his own age, whom everybody called "David," and he soon made friends with him. David was very obliging, and always willing to help Owen any way he could, which was not the case with Norris, one of the young men, who seemed to take a delight in thwarting and hindering him.

One day when David had some extra heavy parcels to carry, Owen was sent out with him, and as they walked along, he asked him his surname.

"David Netherclift," he replied.

"What!" said Owen, "Netherclift, did you say?"

"Yes, why not?"