SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 106 | Next

Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

"
Peter dropped his shading fingers, lifted his body from the depths
of the easy chair and leaned forward so that the light fell full
on his face. He had all the information he wanted now.
"And now let me tell you my story, my lad. It is a very short one.
I had the same sort of a home, but no father--none that I
remember--and no mother, they both died before my sister Felicia
and I were grown up. At twelve I left school; at fifteen I worked
in a country store--up at daylight and to bed at midnight, often.
From twenty to twenty-five I was entry clerk in a hardware store;
then book-keeper; then cashier in a wagon factory; then clerk in a
village bank--then book-keeper again in my present bank, and there
I have been ever since. My only advantages were a good
constitution and the fact that I came of gentle people. Here we
are both alike--you at twenty--how old?--twenty two? ... Well,
make it twenty-two. ... You at twenty-two and I at twenty-two
seem to have started out in life with the same natural advantages,
so far as years and money go, but with this difference--Shall I
tell you what it is?"
"Yes.


Pages:
94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118