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In A New World; or, Among The Gold Fields Of Australia, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 37. Home Again |
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_ CHAPTER XXXVII. HOME AGAIN It was a bright, beautiful morning when our three friends landed in New York. Their voyage had been a favorable one, and they had made some pleasant acquaintances, but they were overjoyed to tread once more the familiar streets and see the familiar sights of the American metropolis. They registered at a quiet hotel on the European system, intending to remain in the city a few days. They sought out a prominent broker and asked his advice about the investment of their money. He received them in a friendly manner, and gave them the best advice in his power. Each reserved three hundred dollars for present use. It was a novelty to all of them to be free from anxiety on the score of money, and it may well be believed that all enjoyed the feeling. The second morning, as they were walking down Broadway, their eyes fell upon a familiar figure. Directly in front of them they beheld a slender young man, dressed in the extreme of fashion, swinging a light cane. As he walked along it was easy to see that he was on the most comfortable and agreeable terms with himself, and firmly persuaded that he was an object of general admiration. "Montgomery Clinton!" exclaimed Harry and Jack simultaneously. "You don't mean to say you know that critter!" said Obed, eying Mr. Clinton with evident curiosity. "Yes, he was one of the _Nantucket_ passengers, and shipwrecked with us," said Harry. "He did not remain in Australia, but took a return vessel at once." "That was lucky. A critter like that wouldn't be of much account at the mines." "Stop! I am going to speak to him." Harry quickened his step, and touched Mr. Clinton on the shoulder. Clinton turned languidly, but when he saw who it was his face expressed undisguised pleasure. "Mr. Vane!" he exclaimed. "I'm awfully glad to see you, don't you know?" "You haven't forgotten my friend Jack, I hope," said Harry, indicating the young sailor. "I am glad to see him, too," said Mr. Clinton, with modified pleasure, offering two fingers for Jack to shake, for he had not forgotten that Jack had been a sailor. "When did you come from Australia?" asked Clinton. "We only arrived day before yesterday." "And what luck did you have at the mines?" "We struck it rich. We are all capitalists, Jack and all." "You don't say so! I wish I had gone with you, really now." "I don't think you'd have liked it, Mr. Clinton. We had a hard time. We had to wade through mud and mire, and sleep on the ground, and twice we were captured by bushrangers. They wanted Jack and myself to join the band." "You don't say so--really?" "They might have made you a bushranger, Mr. Clinton, if they had caught you." "I never would consent, never!" said Mr. Clinton, with emphasis. Jack smiled at the idea of the elegant Mr. Clinton being transformed into an outlaw and bushranger. "I am awfully glad I did not go with you," he said, shuddering. "Let me make you acquainted with my friend, Mr. Obed Stackpole, Mr. Clinton," said Harry. "He was with us in all our trials and dangers." Montgomery Clinton surveyed Obed with evident curiosity. The long gaunt figure of the Yankee was clad in a loose rough suit which was too large for him, and Clinton shuddered at the barbarous way in which he was attired. "Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Stackpole," he said politely. "_Stackpole_, if it's all the same to you, friend Clinton," corrected Obed. "Glad to see any friend of Harry's and Jack's. You look as if you had just come out of a bandbox." "Ob, thank you," said the gratified dude. "You're awfully kind. My friends think I have a little taste in dress." "My friends never paid me that compliment," said Obed. "Say, how do you like my fit out?" "I--I don't think they have very good tailors in Australia," said Clinton hesitatingly. "Have you as many pairs of trousers as ever, Mr. Clinton?" asked Harry. "I have only nineteen, Mr. Vane, but I shall order some more soon." "Nineteen pairs of breeches!" ejaculated Obed in amazement. "What in the name of Jehoshaphat do you want of so many?" "Well, I don't want to have people get used to seeing me in the same trousers, don't you know, so every day I wear a different pair." "It must cost a mint of money to buy so many clothes." "Oh, I have accounts with four or five tailors. They're willing to wait, don't you know. They appreciate a gentleman's custom." "How long do they wait?" asked Harry. "I'm owing some two years. There's lots of fellows make them wait as long." "That aint my way," said Obed. "I pay cash. Don't they make a fuss?" "Oh, they send in their bills, but I don't take any notice of them," said Clinton languidly. "Then, young man," said Obed, "let me advise you to pay your bills, and get back your self-respect. I'd go six months with only a single pair of breeches, sooner than cheat a tailor out of a new pair." "I never wear breeches," drawled Clinton, with a shudder. "I don't know what they are. Mr. Vane, those trousers you have on are very unbecoming. Let me introduce you to my tailor. He'll fit you out in fashionable style." "Thank you. I believe I do need a new pair." "Will he fit me, too?" asked Obed. "He don't make--breeches!" said Clinton disdainfully. "A good hit, by Jehoshaphat!" exclaimed Obed, slapping Clinton on the back with such emphasis that he was nearly upset. "Don't hit quite so hard," said the dude ruefully. "You nearly upset me, don't you know?" "I know it now. The fact is, friend Clinton, you ought to be shut up in a glass case, and put on exhibition in a dime museum." "How awfully horrid!" protested Clinton. "You're more fit for ornament than use." "You're awfully sarcastic, Mr. Stackpole, don't you know?" said Clinton, edging off cautiously. "I must bid you good-morning, Mr. Vane, as I have to buy a new neck tie. I will go to the tailor's any day." "What was such a critter made for, anyway?" queried Obed, when Clinton was out of hearing. "He looks for all the world like a tailor's dummy." _ |
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