The Pedler of Dust Sticks | Page 4

to obtain work. He went into the street, and after a while
read upon a sign, "Furniture varnished." He went into the shop and
asked for work. The man asked him if he could varnish well. Henry
replied, "Yes, I can." He was very skilful, and he had varnished his
canes sometimes, and he felt sure he could.
"You came from Hamburg?"
"Yes, sir."
"Perhaps you know some new and better way than we have of

varnishing?"
"What method do you take?" asked Henry.
The man told him.
Here Henry's habit of observing was the means of his getting bread for
himself and family. He had noticed a new and better way that
varnishers employed in Hamburg, and though he had not tried it with
his own hands, he was sure he could imitate what he had seen. He said
that he knew a better way. The man engaged him for a week, and was
much pleased with his work; he did not want him long, but gave him a
recommendation when he parted with him.
After this Henry went to the baker of whom he had bought bread for
the family, and asked him for employment. The baker told him he
wanted his house painted, and asked him if he could do it.
"Yes," said Henry, "I can do it well, I know."
The baker liked him very much, and gave him the job without any
hesitation.
The baker's apprentices had noticed what a good fellow Henry was, and
would often give him, in addition to the loaf for the family, some nice
cakes to carry home. So he was, as you see, now working among
friends.
Henry had never painted before; but he had observed painters at their
work, and he did it well. He soon became known to all the people of
the town, and made many friends. He was never idle. He made canes
when he had no other work. He varnished, or painted, or did anything
that he could get to do, and supported the whole family comfortably for
two years.
At the end of this time, his father sent to him to bring the family home
to Hamburg. Henry left without a single debt, and in the place of the
five dollars carried home ten to his father.

I must tell you of a piece of Henry's economy and self-denial. He grew
very fast, and his boots became too small for him. While he was getting
every thing comfortable for others, he denied himself a pair of new
boots, and used to oil the old ones every time he put them on, so as to
be able to get his feet into them, and never complained of the pain.
Our hero--for I am sure he was a true hero--was now seventeen. The
French had left Hamburg when he returned, but it was still necessary to
have a body of soldiers to protect it, and he joined a corps of young
men. They made him distributer of provisions. His office was one
given only to those known to be honest and worthy of confidence. The
citizens began even then to show their respect for the little pedler of
dust sticks and canes. We shall see what he was yet to be.
Henry returned to cane-making, to which he and his father soon added
work in whalebone. They were pretty successful, but, as they had very
little money to purchase stock and tools, could not make a great
business.
It was about this time that Henry became acquainted with one who was
to form the greatest happiness of his life. There was a poor girl in
Hamburg who was a seamstress, and who not only supported herself
but her mother by her needle. Her name was Agatha. She had a lovely
face and very engaging manners; her character was still more lovely
than her face; and she had only these to recommend her, for she was
very poor. Henry became strongly attached to her, and she soon
returned his love.
Henry's father and mother did not approve of this connection because
the girl was very poor; and as their son was so handsome and agreeable,
had now many friends, and was very capable, they thought that he
might marry the daughter of some rich man perhaps, and so get some
money. But, although Henry was ready to jump from a wagon twenty
feet high for a few pence, and would walk the streets of the city twelve
hours a day for money, he would not so disgrace himself as to give that
most precious of all things, his heart, for gold, and so he told his
parents.

"I shall," said he, "marry my dear Agatha, or I shall never marry any
one. She is good, and gentle, and beautiful;