A young boy, Luke Larkin, lives alone with his ailing mother and has no money or food. Then one day a mysterious stranger shows up and gives him a box to hold onto which he must never open and must always keep a secret.
A young boy, Luke Larkin, lives alone with his ailing mother and has no money or food. Then one day a mysterious stranger shows up and gives him a box to hold onto which he must never open and must always keep a secret.
One Saturday afternoon in January a lively and animated group of boys were gathered on the western side of a large pond in the village of Groveton. Prominent among them was a tall, pleasant-looking young man of twenty-two, the teacher of the Center Grammar School, Frederic Hooper, A. B., a recent graduate of Yale College. Evidently there was something of importance on foot. What it was may be learned from the words of the teacher.
"Now, boys," he said, holding in his hand a Waterbury watch, of neat pattern, "I offer this watch as a prize to the boy who will skate across the pond and back in the least time. You will all start together, at a given signal, and make your way to the mark which I have placed at the western end of the lake, skate around it, and return to this point. Do you fully understand?"
"Yes, sir!" exclaimed the boys, unanimously.
Before proceeding, it may be well to refer more particularly to some of the boys who were to engage in the contest.
First, in his own estimation, came Randolph Duncan, son of Prince Duncan, president of the Groveton Bank, and a prominent town official. Prince Duncan was supposed to be a rich man, and lived in a style quite beyond that of his neighbors. Randolph was his only son, a boy of sixteen, and felt that in social position and blue blood he was without a peer in the village. He was a tall, athletic boy, and disposed to act the part of boss among the Groveton boys.
Next came a boy similar in age and physical strength, but in other respects very different from the young aristocrat. This was Luke Larkin, the son of a carpenter's widow, living on narrow means, and so compelled to exercise the strictest economy. Luke worked where he could, helping the farmers in hay-time, and ready to do odd jobs for any one in the village who desired his services. He filled the position of janitor at the school which he attended, sweeping out twice a week and making the fires. He had a pleasant expression, and a bright, resolute look, a warm heart, and a clear intellect, and was probably, in spite of his poverty, the most popular boy in Groveton. In this respect he was the opposite of Randolph Duncan, whose assumption of superiority and desire to "boss" the other boys prevented him from having any real friends. He had two or three companions, who flattered him and submitted to his caprices because they thought it looked well to be on good terms with the young aristocrat.
These two boys were looked upon as the chief contestants for the prize offered by their teacher. Opinions differed as to which would win.
"I think Luke will get the watch," said Fred Acken, a younger boy.
"I don't know about that," said Tom Harper. "Randolph skates just as well, and he has a pair of club skates. His father sent to New York for them last week. They're beauties, I tell you. Randolph says they cost ten dollars."
"Of course that gives him the advantage," said Percy Hall. "Look at Luke's old-fashioned wooden skates! They would be dear at fifty cents!"
"It's a pity Luke hasn't a better pair," said Harry Wright. "I don't think the contest is a fair one. Luke ought to have an allowance of twenty rods, to make up for the difference in skates."
"He wouldn't accept it," said Linton Tomkins, the son of a manufacturer in Groveton, who was an intimate friend of Luke, and preferred to associate with him, though Randolph had made advances toward intimacy, Linton being the only boy in the village whom he regarded as his social equal. "I offered him my club skates, but he said he would take the chances with his own."
Linton was the only boy who had a pair of skates equal to Randolph's. He, too, was a contestant, but, being three years younger than Luke and Randolph, had no expectation of rivaling them.
Randolph had his friends near him, administering the adulation he so much enjoyed.
"I have no doubt you'll get the watch, Randolph," said Sam Noble.
"You're a better skater any day than Luke Larkin."
"Of course you are!" chimed in Tom Harper.
"The young janitor doesn't think so," said Randolph, his lips curling.
"Oh, he's conceited enough to think he can beat you, I make no doubt," said Sam.
"On those old skates, too! They look as if Adam might have used them when he was a boy!"
This sally of Tom's created a laugh.
"His skates are old ones, to be sure," said Randolph, who was quick-sighted enough to understand that any remark of this kind might dim the luster of his expected victory. "His skates are old enough, but they are just as good for skating as mine."
"They won't win him the watch, though," said Sam.
"I don't care for the watch myself," said Randolph, loftily.
"I've got a silver one now, and am to have a gold one when
I'm eighteen. But I want to show that I am the best skater.
Besides, father has promised me ten dollars if I win."
"I wish I had ten dollars," said Sam, enviously.
He was the son of the storekeeper, and his father allowed him only ten cents a week pocket-money, so that ten dollars in his eyes was a colossal fortune.
"I have no doubt you would, Sam," said Tom, joyously; "but you couldn't be trusted with so much money. You'd go down to New York and try to buy out A. T. Stewart."
"Are you ready, boys?" asked Mr. Hooper.
Most of the boys responded promptly in the affirmative; but Luke, who had been tightening his straps, said quickly: "I am not ready, Mr. Hooper. My strap has broken!"
"Indeed, Luke, I am sorry to hear it," said the teacher, approaching and examining the fracture. "As matters stand, you can't skate."
Randolph's eyes brightened. Confident as he professed to feel, he knew that his chances of success would be greatly increased by Luke's withdrawal from the list.
"The prize is yours now," whispered Tom.
"It was before," answered Randolph, conceitedly.
Poor Luke looked disappointed. He knew that he had at least an even chance of winning, and he wanted the watch. Several of his friends of his own age had watches, either silver or Waterbury, and this seemed, in his circumstances, the only chance of securing one. Now he was apparently barred out.
"It's a pity you shouldn't skate, Luke," said Mr. Hooper, in a tone of sympathy. "You are one of the best skaters, and had an excellent chance of winning the prize. Is there any boy willing to lend Luke his skates?"
"I will," said Frank Acken.
"My dear boy," said the teacher, "you forget that your feet are several sizes smaller than Luke's."
"I didn't think of that," replied Frank, who was only twelve years old.
"You may use my skates, Luke," said Linton Tomkins. "I think they will fit you."
Linton was only thirteen, but he was unusually large for his age.
"You are very kind, Linton," said Luke, "but that will keep you out of the race."
"I stand no chance of winning," said Linton, "and I will do my skating afterward."
"I don't think that fair," said Randolph, with a frown. "Each boy ought to use his own skates."
"There is nothing unfair about it," said the teacher, "except that Luke is placed at disadvantage in using a pair of skates he is unaccustomed to."
Randolph did not dare gainsay the teacher, but he looked sullen.
"Mr. Hooper is always favoring that beggar!" he said in a low voice, to Tom Harper.
"Of course he is!" chimed in the toady.
"You are very kind, Linny," said Luke, regarding his friend affectionately. "I won't soon forget it."
"Oh, it's all right, Luke," said Linton. "Now go in and win!"
Slow and Sure: The Story of Paul Hoffman the Young Street-Merchant by Jr. Horatio Alger
Alger's writings happened to correspond with America's Gilded Age, a time of increasing prosperity in a nation rebuilding from the Civil War.This is another fine work by Alger in the vein of 'rags to riches' tales.
The class of boys described in the present volume was called into existence only a few years since, but they are already so numerous that one can scarcely ride down town by any conveyance without having one for a fellow-passenger. Most of them reside with their parents and have comfortable homes, but a few, like the hero of this story, are wholly dependent on their own exertions for a livelihood.
A youth of sturdy qualities elects to follow the calling of a deckhand on a Hudson River steamboat...
Alger describes young men in the city trying to get a head as newsboys, match boys, pedlars, street musicians, and many others. Through luck and hard work, sixteen-year-old Ohio farm boy Nat finds surprising success in nineteenth-century New York City.
This book is written in the typical Alger style. Herbert is a poor boy who sets out, with the help of his great uncle, to clear his father's name of a crime he did not commit...
On her wedding day, Marissa learned she wasn't her parents' real daughter. Once the true heiress returned, her fiancé and adoptive parents cast her off to a rural backwater-and into an arranged marriage. Only the "village" turned out to be the nation's most exclusive enclave, and her birth family led an elite dynasty that spoiled her rotten. Garages held rare supercars; vaults opened to couture and jewels. School or family business, she chose her pace. Her "rustic" husband proved lethal, loyal, and absurdly protective. Her ex crawled back, yet she cut him off cold, "Stay the hell away from me."
When her half-sister stole her fiancé, scarred her face, and threw her from a skyscraper, Amelia thought it was the end-until fate gave her a second chance. Reborn with bitter clarity, she vowed not to repeat the same mistakes. In her past life, she had been kind to a fault; now, she would wear a mask of innocence to outmaneuver every snake in the grass. One by one, she tore down their schemes-leaving her treacherous sister begging, her stepmother pleading, her worthless father groveling, and her ex-fiancé crawling back. Her response was a cold smirk and two words: "Get lost." But the one thing she never anticipated was crossing paths with Damien Taylor-the most powerful and untouchable man in the capital-on the very first day of her new life. They said he was ruthless, ice-cold, immune to any woman's charm. Amelia believed it. until she learned the truth: the man was dangerously cunning. "Miss Johnson, I saved you. How about dinner?" "Miss Johnson, I helped you. Don't you owe me a favor?" Backed against the wall, Amelia felt his low voice vibrate through her: "You owe me too much, Amelia. It's time to pay up-starting with you." Only much later would she realize. she'd been owing him all along.
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
"My sister threatens to take my mate. And I let her keep him." Born without a wolf, Seraphina is the disgrace of her pack-until a drunken night leaves her pregnant and married to Kieran, the ruthless Alpha who never wanted her. But their decade-long marriage was no fairytale. For ten years, she endured the humiliation: No Luna title. No mating mark. Just cold sheets and colder stares. When her perfect sister returned, Kieran filed for divorce the same night. And her family was happy to see her marriage broken. Seraphina didn't fight but left silently. However, when danger struck, shocking truths emerged: ☽ That night wasn't an accident ☽ Her "defect" is actually a rare gift ☽ And now every Alpha-including her ex-husband-will fight to claim her Too bad she's done being owned. *** Kieran's growl vibrated through my bones as he pinned me against the wall. The heat of him seared through layers of fabric. "You think leaving is that easy, Seraphina?" His teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my throat. "You. Are. Mine." A hot palm slid up my thigh. "No one else will ever touch you." "You had ten years to claim me, Alpha." I bared my teeth in a smile. "Funny how you only remember I'm yours... when I'm walking away."
After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary-but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.
Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"
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