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Page 82
At the time which we speak of, the poor lad was not very well dressed,
and wore shoes from which his toes peeped out; for his old father had
barely the means of supporting his wife and children. But, poor as the
family were, young Sam Johnson had as much pride as any nobleman's son
in England. The fact was, he felt conscious of uncommon sense and
ability, which, in his own opinion, entitled him to great respect from
the world. Perhaps he would have been glad, if grown people had treated
him as reverentially as his school-fellows did. Three of them were
accustomed to come for him, every morning; and while he sat upon the
back of one, the two others supported him on each side, and thus he rode
to school in triumph!
Being a personage of so much importance, Sam could not bear the idea of
standing all day in Uttoxeter market, offering books to the rude and
ignorant country-people. Doubtless he felt the more reluctant on account
of his shabby clothes, and the disorder of his eyes, and the tremulous
motion of his head.
When Mr. Michael Johnson spoke, Sam pouted, and made an indistinct
grumbling in his throat; then he looked his old father in the face, and
answered him loudly and deliberately.
"Sir," said he, "I will not go to Uttoxeter market!"
Mr. Johnson had seen a great deal of the lad's obstinacy ever since his
birth; and while Sam was younger, the old gentleman had probably used
the rod, whenever occasion seemed to require. But he was now too
feeble, and too much out of spirits, to contend with this stubborn and
violent-tempered boy. He therefore gave up the point at once, and
prepared to go to Uttoxeter himself.
"Well Sam," said Mr. Johnson, as he took his hat and staff, "If, for the
sake of your foolish pride, you can suffer your poor sick father to
stand all day in the noise and confusion of the market, when he ought to
be in his bed, I have no more to say. But you will think of this, Sam,
when I am dead and gone!"
So the poor old man (perhaps with a tear in his eye, but certainly with
sorrow in his heart) set forth towards Uttoxeter. The gray-haired,
feeble, melancholy Michael Johnson! How sad a thing it was, that he
should be forced to go, in his sickness, and toil for the support of an
ungrateful son, who was too proud to do any thing for his father, or his
mother, or himself! Sam looked after Mr. Johnson, with a sullen
countenance, till he was out of sight.
But when the old man's figure, as he went stooping along the street, was
no more to be seen, the boy's heart began to smite him. He had a vivid
imagination, and it tormented him with the image of his father, standing
in the market-place of Uttoxeter and offering his books to the noisy
crowd around him, Sam seemed to behold him, arranging his literary
merchandise upon the stall in such a way as was best calculated to
attract notice. Here was Addison's Spectator, a long row of little
volumes; here was Pope's translation of the Iliad and Odyssey; here were
Dryden's poems, or those of Prior. Here, likewise, were Gulliver's
Travels, and a variety of little gilt-covered children's books, such as
Tom Thumb, Jack the Giant-queller, Mother Goose's Melodies, and others
which our great-grandparents used to read in their childhood. And here
were sermons for the pious, and pamphlets for the politicians, and
ballads, some merry and some dismal ones, for the country people to
sing.
Sam, in imagination, saw his father offer these books, pamphlets, and
ballads, now to the rude yeomen, who perhaps could not read a word,--now
to the country squires, who cared for nothing but to hunt hares and
foxes,--now to the children, who chose to spend their coppers for
sugar-plums or gingerbread, rather than for picture-books. And if Mr.
Johnson should sell a book to man, woman, or child, it would cost him an
hour's talk to get a profit of only sixpence.
"My poor father!" thought Sam to himself. "How his head will ache, and
how heavy his heart will be! I am almost sorry that I did not do as he
bade me!"
Then the boy went to his mother, who was busy about the house. She did
not know of what had passed between Mr. Johnson and Sam.
"Mother," said he, "did you think father seemed very ill to-day?"
"Yes, Sam," answered his mother, turning with a flushed face from the
fire, where she was cooking their scanty dinner. "Your father did look
very ill; and it is a pity he did not send you to Uttoxeter in his
stead. You are a great boy now, and would rejoice, I am sure, to do
something for your poor father, who has done so much for you."
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