Risen from the Ranks | Page 8

My Greek lesson is about finished, and that's all I've got to do this evening. Come round, and we will sit over the fire, and chat like old friends."
"Thank you, Oscar," said Harry, irresistibly attracted by his bright and lively acquaintance, "I shall enjoy calling. I have made no acquaintances yet, and I feel lonely."
"I have got over that," said Oscar. "I am used to being away from home and don't mind it."
The two boys walked together to Oscar's boarding-place. It was a large house, of considerable pretension for a village, and Oscar's room was large and handsomely furnished. But what attracted Harry's attention was not the furniture, but a collection of over a hundred books, ranged on shelves at one end of the room. In his father's house it had always been so difficult to obtain the necessaries of life that books had necessarily been regarded as superfluities, and beyond a dozen volumes which Harry had read and re-read, he was compelled to depend on such as he could borrow. Here again his privileges were scanty, for most of the neighbors were as poorly supplied as his father.
"What a fine library you have, Oscar!" he exclaimed.
"I have a few books," said Oscar. "My father filled a couple of boxes, and sent me. He has a large library."
"This seems a large library to me," said Harry. "My father likes reading, but he is poor, and cannot afford to buy books."
He said that in a matter-of-fact tone, without the least attempt to conceal what many boys would have been tempted to hide. Oscar noted this, and liked his new friend the better for it.
"Yes," he said, "books cost money, and one hasn't always the money to spare."
"Have you read all these books?"
"Not more than half of them. I like reading better than studying, I am afraid. I am reading the Waverley novels now. Have you read any of them?"
"So; I never saw any of them before."
"If you see anything you would like to read, I will lend it to you with pleasure," said Oscar, noticing the interest with which Harry regarded the books.
"Will you?" said Harry, eagerly. "I can't tell you how much obliged I am. I will take good care of it."
"Oh, I am sure of that. Here, try Ivanhoe. I've just read it, and it's tip-top."
"Thank you; I will take it on your recommendation. What a nice room you have!"
"Yes, it's pretty comfortable. Father told me to fix it up to suit me. He said he wouldn't mind the expense if I would only study."
"I should think anybody might study in such a room as this, and with such a fine collection of books."
"I'm rather lazy sometimes," said Oscar, "but I shall turn over a new leaf some of these days, and astonish everybody. To-night, as I have no studying to do, I'll tell you what we'll do. Did you ever pop corn?"
"Sometimes."
"I've got some corn here, and Ma'am Greyson has a popper. Stay here alone a minute, and I'll run down and get it."
Oscar ran down stairs, and speedily returned with a corn-popper.
"Now we'll have a jolly time," said he. "Draw up that arm-chair, and make yourself at home. If Xenophon, or Virgil, or any of those Greek and Latin chaps call, we'll tell 'em we are transacting important business and can't be disturbed. What do you say?"
"They won't be apt to call on me," said Harry. I haven't the pleasure of knowing them."
"It isn't always a pleasure, I can assure you, Harry. Pass over the corn-popper."
CHAPTER V.
A YOUNG F. F. B.
As the two boys sat in front of the fire, popping and eating the corn, and chatting of one thing and another, their acquaintance improved rapidly. Harry learned that Oscar's father was a Boston merchant, in the Calcutta trade, with a counting-room on Long Wharf. Oscar was a year older than himself, and the oldest child. He had a sister of thirteen, named Florence, and a younger brother, Charlie, now ten. They lived on Beacon Street, opposite the Common. Though Harry had never lived in Boston, be knew that this was a fashionable street, and he had no difficulty in inferring that Mr. Vincent was a rich man. He felt what a wide gulf there was socially between himself and Oscar; one the son of a very poor country farmer, the other the son of a merchant prince. But nothing in Oscar's manner indicated the faintest feeling of superiority, and this pleased Harry. I may as well say, however, that our hero was not one to show any foolish subserviency to a richer boy; he thought mainly of Oscar's superiority in knowledge; and although the latter was far ahead of Harry on this score, he was not one to boast of it.
Harry, in return for Oscar's confidence,