"Where are we?"

"That is just what the pilot would like to know. They can't see ahead a bit, and don't know where we are."

Bobby went on deck. The ocean rolled beneath them, but there was nothing but fog to be seen above and around them. The lead was heaved every few moments, and the steamer crept slowly along till it was found the water shoaled rapidly, when the captain ordered the men to let go the anchor.

There they were; the fog was as obstinate as a mule, and would not "lift." Hour after hour they waited, for the captain was a prudent man, and would not risk the life of those on board to save a few hours' time. After breakfast, the pa.s.sengers began to display their uneasiness, and some of them called the captain very hard names, because he would not go on. Almost everybody grumbled, and made themselves miserable.

"Nothing to do and nothing to read," growled a nicely-dressed gentleman, as he yawned and stretched himself to manifest his sensation of _ennui_.

"Nothing to read, eh?" thought Bobby. "We will soon supply that want."

Calling Tom, they went down to the main deck where the baggage had been placed.

"Now's our time," said he, as he proceeded to unlock one of the trunks that contained his books. "Now or never."

"I am with you," replied Tom, catching the idea.

The books of the latter were in a box, and he was obliged to get a hammer to open it; but with Bobby's a.s.sistance he soon got at them.

"Buy 'The Wayfarer,'" said Bobby, when he returned to the saloon, and placed a volume in the hands of the yawning gentleman. "Best book of the season; only one dollar."

"That I will, and glad of the chance," replied the gentleman. "I would give five dollars for anything, if it were only the 'Comic Almanac.'"

Others were of the same mind. There was no present prospect that the fog would lift, and before dinner time our merchant had sold fifty copies of "The Wayfarer." Tom, whose books were of an inferior description, and who was inexperienced as a salesman, disposed of twenty, which was more than half of his stock. The fog was a G.o.dsend to both of them, and they reaped a rich harvest from the occasion, for almost all the pa.s.sengers seemed willing to spend their money freely for the means of occupying the heavy hours and driving away that dreadful _ennui_ which reigns supreme in a fog-bound steamer.

About the middle of the afternoon, the fog blew over, and the boat proceeded on her voyage, and before sunset our young merchants were safely landed at Bath.

CHAPTER XVII

IN WHICH TOM HAS A GOOD TIME, AND BOBBY MEETS WITH A TERRIBLE MISFORTUNE

Bath afforded our young merchants an excellent market for their wares, and they remained there the rest of the week. They then proceeded to Brunswick, where their success was equally flattering.

Thus far Tom had done very well, though Bobby had frequent occasion to remind him of the pledges he had given to conduct himself in a proper manner. He would swear now and then, from the force of habit; but invariably, when Bobby checked him, he promised to do better.

At Brunswick Tom sold the last of his books, and was in possession of about thirty dollars, twelve of which he owed the publisher who had furnished his stock. This money seemed to burn in his pocket. He had the means of having a good time, and it went hard with him to plod along as Bobby did, careful to save every penny he could.

"Come, Bob, let's get a horse and chaise and have a ride--what do you say?" proposed Tom, on the day he finished selling his books.

"I can't spare the time or the money," replied Bobby, decidedly.

"What is the use of having money if we can't spend it? It is a first rate day, and we should have a good time."

"I can't afford it. I have a great many books to sell."

"About a hundred; you can sell them fast enough."

"I don't spend my money foolishly."

"It wouldn't be foolishly. I have sold out, and I am bound to have a little fun now."

"You never will succeed if you do business in that way."

"Why not?"

"You will spend your money as fast as you get it."

"Pooh! we can get a horse and chaise for the afternoon for two dollars. That is not much."

"Considerable, I should say. But if you begin, there is no knowing where to leave off. I make it a rule not to spend a single cent foolishly, and if I don't begin, I shall never do it."

"I don't mean to spend all I get; only a little now and then,"

persisted Tom.

"Don't spend the first dollar for nonsense, and then you won't spend the second. Besides, when I have any money to spare, I mean to buy books with it for my library."

"Humbug! Your library!"

"Yes, my library; I mean to have a library one of these days."

"I don't want any library, and I mean to spend some of my money in having a good time; and if you won't go with me, I shall go alone--that's all."

"You can do as you please, of course; but I advise you to keep your money. You will want it to buy another stock of books."

"I shall have enough for that. What do you say? will you go with me or not?"

"No, I will not."

"Enough said; then I shall go alone, or get some fellow to go with me."

"Consider well before you go," pleaded Bobby, who had sense enough to see that Tom's proposed "good time" would put back, if not entirely prevent, the reform he was working out.

He then proceeded to reason with him in a very earnest and feeling manner, telling him he would not only spend all his money, but completely unfit himself for business. What he proposed to do was nothing more nor less than extravagance, and it would lead him to dissipation and ruin.

"To-day I am going to send one hundred dollars to Mr. Bayard,"

continued Bobby; "for I am afraid to have so much money with me. I advise you to send your money to your employer."

"Humph! Catch me doing that! I am bound to have a good time, anyhow."

"At least, send the money you owe him."

"I'll bet I won't."

"Well, do as you please; I have said all I have to say."