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Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Five Little Peppers Grown Up

M >> Margaret Sidney >> Five Little Peppers Grown Up

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Jasper held out his hand full of papers. "These were to come in between
when they could, sir."

"Hem--hem"--Mr. Marlowe read them over with a practiced eye; rolled them
up, and handed the roll to Jasper. "Tell Parker to set Danforth on
those. Anything more?"

"I was to go to-morrow if there was time to get prices for best
calendered paper of Patterson & Co. and Withers; but the next day will
do."

"Parker must attend to all that," said Mr. Marlowe decidedly.

"Very well, sir. I believe that is all that hurries particularly."

"Come this way; I'll give you instructions what to say to Bendel," and
Mr. Marlowe led the way out to a quiet corner of the warehouse, where he
sat down by a desk, and rapidly laid the points of the business before
his assistant.

The next morning in New York, Jasper ran across Mr. Whitney on Broadway.

"Well said; that you, Jasper? Why aren't you up at the house?"

"I came on the night express," said Jasper, finding it hard to wait a
minute, "on a matter of importance for Mr. Marlowe. Sorry, Brother
Mason, but I can't stop now."

"You'll be up to-night, of course," said Mason Whitney.

"I can't; I'm off for Troy," said Jasper concisely, "and I don't come
back this way."

"Goodness! what a man your Marlowe is. And your sister Marian wants to
hear about Polly and all the others; you've seen them so lately."

"It's impossible," began Jasper; "you see I can't help it, Brother
Mason; Mr. Marlowe's orders must be carried out."

"He's a beast, your Marlowe is," declared Mr. Whitney hotly. "I don't
know what Marian will say when I tell her you are here in New York and
won't stop for even a word with her."

"Sister Marian will say it's all right," said Jasper, a trifle
impatiently, and feeling the loss of every moment a thing to be atoned
for. "Mr. Marlowe is loaded up with trouble of all kinds. Now I must
go."

"Hold on a minute," cried Mason Whitney. "Well, how are you getting on?
Seems to me the publishing business doesn't agree with you. You look
peaked enough," scanning Jasper's face closely.

"I'm well enough," said Jasper abruptly. "Tell sister Marian I will
write her very soon," pulling out his watch; "good-by," and he was lost
in the crowd surging down Broadway. Mr. Whitney standing still a moment
to look after him, turned, and went directly to his office.

"That call on Hendryx & Co. can wait," he muttered to himself on the
way, "but Jasper can't. The boy looks badly, and his father ought to
know it; although it seems funny enough for me to be meddling with
Jasper's affairs. But I won't leave anything to worry about afterward;
they can't say I ought to have told them."

So a letter went out by next mail from Mr. Whitney's office, saying that
Jasper looked poorly enough when he was met in New York; that he seemed
incapable of breathing any other air than that saturated with business;
that he had evidently mistaken his vocation when he chose to be a
publisher. "Beside, there isn't any money now in the publishing
business," added Mr. Whitney as a clincher; "there are too many of the
fellows cutting each other's throats to make it pay; and books are
slaughtered right and left, and Jasper much better get into some other
business, in my opinion."

Meanwhile Jasper finished, to the letter, the instructions for Jacob
Bendel, did up the other matters entrusted to him, and set out on his
Troy expedition. Here he was detained a day or two, Mr. Marlowe's
instructions being to wait over and telegraph if the business could not
be adjusted satisfactorily. But the fourth day after leaving home,
Jasper, just from the night express, mounted the stairs to his hotel in
the early morning, his bag in his hand, and the expression on his face
of a man who has accomplished what he set out to do.

"There's an old gent up in your room," announced Buttons, tumbling off,
a sleepy heap, from one of the office chairs, to look at him.

"An old gentleman in my room," repeated Jasper, turning on the stairs.
"Why was any person put in my room?"

"We didn't put the person there," said the boy, yawning fearfully, "he
put himself there. He's a tiger, he is, and he blows me up reg'lar
'cause you ain't home," he added.

Jasper scaled the rest of the stairs, and tried the knob of his door
with no gentle hand. Then he rapped loudly. "Open the door--this is my
room."

"Oh! I'm coming," said a voice he knew quite well, and presently old Mr.
King stood before him, his velvet cap and morning jacket both awry from
impatient fingers.

[Illustration: "AN OLD GENTLEMAN IN MY ROOM," REPEATED JASPER, TURNING
ON THE STAIRS.]

"Father!" ejaculated Jasper. And "Goodness me, Jasper!" from the old
gentleman, "what an unearthly hour to come home in."

Jasper hurried in, set his bag in the corner, then turned and looked at
his father anxiously. Meanwhile old Mr. King was studying his son's
countenance with no small degree of alarm.

"What is it," cried Jasper at last, coming close to him, "that has
brought you?"

"What?--why, you."

"Me?" cried Jasper, in amazement.

"Yes; dear me, Jasper, with all the worries I have had lately, it does
seem a pity that you couldn't take care of yourself. It really does,"
repeated Mr. King, his feelings nowise soothed by picking up his watch
and finding it half-past six o'clock. When he made sure of the time, he
set down the watch quickly, and stared at Jasper worse than ever.

"Now, father," said Jasper, "there's a mistake somewhere, but never mind
now; you must get back to bed again. I don't know when you've been up at
this hour." He tried to laugh, while he laid his hand on the old
gentleman's arm. "Do get back to bed, father."

"It certainly is a most outrageous hour in which to arise," remarked his
father, not able to suppress a yawn, "and I don't mind if I do turn
in--but where will you sleep, Jasper?" whirling around on his son. "I've
come to look after you, and I shouldn't begin very well to monopolize
your bed," with a short laugh.

"Oh, I'll camp out on the lounge," said Jasper carelessly; "in two
minutes I could be asleep there or anywhere else. Don't mind me,
father."

"If you say so, then I will," said the old gentleman, "and you are too
tired to talk before you've had a nap." So he lay down on the bed,
Jasper dutifully tucking him up, and presently his regular breathing
told that he had picked up the threads of his broken slumber.

Jasper threw himself on the lounge, but unable to close his eyes, his
gaze fell on a sheet of paper, lying on the floor just within reach. It
was impossible to avoid reading the words: "And Jasper better get into
some other business, in my opinion," and signed "Mason Whitney."

Jasper jumped to his feet and strode up and down the room in growing
indignation; then seized his hat and darted out to cool himself off
before his father should awake. When he returned, old Mr. King was
half-dressed, and berating Buttons for his failure to have the morning
paper at the door.

"Now for breakfast," cried Jasper, his own toilet quickly made, "then I
presume you want to see me in my business surroundings, father?" as they
went down the stairs together.

"I most certainly do," said the old gentleman decidedly; and they turned
into the breakfast room.

So after a meal in which Jasper, by skillful management of all
conversational topics, allowed no chance word of business to intrude,
old Mr. King and he started for the publishing house of D. Marlowe &
Co., Jasper filling up all gaps that might suggest time for certain
questions that seemed to be trembling on the tip of Mr. King's tongue,
while that gentleman was making a running commentary to himself
something in this wise: "Just like Mason; send me off here when there is
not the slightest need of it. The boy is well enough; quite well
enough," he added, in his energy speaking the last words aloud.

"What is it, father?" Jasper paused in the midst of a descriptive fire
concerning the new buildings going up on either hand, with many side
stories of the men who were erecting them; and he paused for an answer.

"Nothing--nothing of importance," said his father hastily. "I only
observed that you appeared to be doing quite well; and as if the
business agreed with you," he added involuntarily.

"I should think it did, father," cried Jasper enthusiastically, while
his cheek glowed; "it's the grandest work a man can do, in my opinion."

"Hem, hem! well, we shall see," observed Mr. King drily, determined not
to yield too easily. "You've been at it only six months. You know the
old adage, Jasper: 'You must summer and winter' a thing before you
decide."

Jasper drew a long breath. "I shall never be anything but a publisher,
father," he said quietly.

"Hoity, toity! well, that is for me to decide, I take it," responded his
father. "You've never disobeyed me yet, Jasper, and I don't believe you
ever will. And if I think it's best for you to change your business, of
course you'll do it."

Jasper's brow darkened, and he closed his lips tightly for a moment.
Then something Polly said once when his father was in a particularly
determined mood, came to his mind: "You better make him happy, Jasper,
any way." That "any way" carried the day now.

"It shall be as you wish, father," he said, the frown disappearing; "I
want you to be pleased, any way," unconsciously using Polly's word.

"I don't know as I should be at all pleased to have you leave the
publishing business, Jasper," said old Mr. King, veering around quickly.
"I can't tell till I've seen just how it suits you. But I am going to
the root of the matter, now that I am here. Oh! is this the place?" as
they came up against a large window, behind whose plate glass, rows and
rows of books in all styles of bindings, met the view of the passer-by.

"This is it," said Jasper, with a thrill that he was part of the "it,"
and the satisfaction in his completed commission, that had been lost by
his father's words, now bounded high again. "Now then, father, you must
meet Mr. Marlowe," turning up the steps.

Old Mr. King walked down the store-length as if he owned the whole with
several others of its kind thrown in, and on Jasper's pausing before a
small office-door, marked "private," heard him say through its open
window, "Good-morning, Mr. Marlowe."

"Ah, good-morning," came back quickly, and Mr. King saw a pleasant-faced
gentleman of middle age, whose keen gray eyes seemed to note everything
with lightning-like rapidity--"business all right?"

"Yes, sir," said Jasper.

"Very well; you may come to me in a quarter of an hour and report. I
shall be through with these gentlemen," indicating one sitting by his
side at the desk, and another awaiting his turn.

"Tell him that I am here, Jasper," said Mr. King pompously, with an
admonitory touch upon Jasper's arm.

"It's impossible, father; he can't see you now," said Jasper hurriedly,
trying to draw his father off to a quieter corner.

"Impossible? Can't see me? What is there to prevent, pray tell?" cried
the old gentleman irately.

[Illustration: "GOOD MORNING," SAID MR. MARLOWE QUICKLY. "BUSINESS ALL
RIGHT?"]

"He has business men with him; they'll be through in a quarter of an
hour," Jasper brought out in distress that was by no means lightened by
the knowledge that half of the clerks through the long salesroom were
becoming acquainted with the conversation.

"It's atrocious. I never was kept waiting in my life," fumed Mr. King.
"He doesn't know I am here--I will announce myself."

He started forward.

"Father," cried Jasper, darting after him, "let me get you a chair over
here by the table and some books to look at."

"I want no books," said the old gentleman, now thoroughly determined, by
this time looking in the open window of the private office.
"Good-morning, sir," stiffly to the middle-aged gentleman sitting before
the desk.

This gentleman looked up, nodded carelessly and said, "Excuse me, but I
am at present engaged."

"I am Mr. Jasper King's father," announced the old gentleman with
extreme dignity; and again the look of being able to buy out this and
several other such establishments, spread over his face.

"I shall be very glad to see you, sir," said the middle-aged man
imperturbably, "in a quarter of an hour. Excuse me," and he turned back
to finish his sentence to the other business man.

"Jasper," cried Mr. King, taking short, quick steps to where Jasper
stood, "give me a sheet of paper so that I may write to this fellow, and
take you out of his contemptible trade--or stay, I will write from the
hotel," and he started for the door.

"Father," exclaimed Jasper in a low tone, but so distinctly that every
one standing near might hear, "Mr Marlowe is just right; he always is."

"Eh?" cried his father, turning and grasping the back of a chair to
steady himself.

"Mr. Marlowe is just right about these things. He really couldn't see
you, father."

"I have never been obliged to wait for any one in all my life, Jasper,"
declared his father impressively, "and I never will."

"I wonder what Polly would do now," thought Jasper in despair.

"And that you could tolerate such impertinence to me," continued Mr.
King with growing anger, "is more than I can understand; but since
you've come into trade it's vastly changed you. If you do not choose to
come to the hotel with me, I must go alone," which with great dignity he
now proceeded to do.

The first business man who had finished his conference with Mr. Marlowe
now came down the salesroom. "How d'ye, King," he said cordially to
Jasper in passing.

Jasper's face lighted as he gave an equally cordial response.

"Such familiarity, Jasper!" exclaimed his father in a fresh burst of
irritation. "Dear me, I only trust you're not completely spoiled before
I get you out of this."

The business man turned around and gave a significant look to a knot of
the salesmen, but happening to catch Jasper's eye, he said, "It's a fine
day, King," carelessly, and passed out, but not before "Stuck-up old
money-bag" fell upon the old gentleman's ear.

"We would better go to the hotel now, I think, father," said Jasper
quietly. "Frank," to the nearest salesman, "will you tell Mr. Marlowe
when it is ten minutes past," glancing at the clock, "that I was obliged
to go with my father, but I will be back at ten o'clock?"

"You need give yourself no such trouble, Jasper, as all this," said his
father decidedly; "I will wait if it is absolutely necessary that you
see him," with a patronizing wave of his gloved hand toward the private
office.

"It is absolutely necessary," said Jasper.

"Very well; I wait, then," said his father, accepting with the air of a
martyr, the chair by the table of books.

And just then the private office-door opened and out came the other
business man, followed by Mr. Marlowe.

"Frank," he called briskly, "ask Jasper's father to step here."




CHAPTER XVIII.

MR. KING ATTENDS TO MATTERS.


Old Mr. King kept on turning the books with a careless hand.

"Father," begged Jasper in a low voice, and putting his hand on the old
gentleman's arm, such a world of entreaty in his face, that his father
turned in spite of himself.

"After all I much better have it over with now, I really think," said
Mr. King; "yes, Jasper, we will go back," with a marked emphasis on the
word "back."

"I can't thank you enough, father," exclaimed Jasper gratefully.

"Well, well, say no more," said old Mr. King abruptly, as they reached
the private office.

Mr. Marlowe's hands were mechanically adjusting the loose papers on his
desk, so as not to lose an instant's time as Mr. King and Jasper came
up, but he turned a face, over which a bright smile shot suddenly,
lighting up the gray eyes, then quickly whirled around in his office
chair. "Glad to see you," he said, putting out a cordial right hand.

Mr. King bowed, but evidently did not see the hand; which Mr. Marlowe
not appearing to notice, the old gentleman was more furious than ever.

"Set a chair for your father, Jasper," said Mr. Marlowe quietly, "and
get one for yourself." Then he leaned back in his office chair and
pleasantly surveyed old Mr. King, waiting for him to speak.

"I have come, sir," said Mr. King, as he settled his courtly old figure
in the chair Jasper had put for him beside the desk, "to see you about
my son; I am not satisfied with his appearance, nor, I am sorry to say,
with his surroundings."

"Indeed,?" said the head of the publishing house of D. Marlowe & Co.,
still with a pleasant smile on his face.

"I am very sorry," repeated Jasper's father, "to have to say it, but my
attention has been called to the fact, and I cannot now ignore it."

"Hardly by Jasper," remarked Mr. Marlowe, bringing the revolving chair
so that he could see Jasper's face.

"Indeed, no," cried Jasper involuntarily, "it is something father has
heard elsewhere, Mr. Marlowe, and I know he will feel quite differently
when he comes to see things as they really are."

The grave look on Mr. Marlowe's face disappeared as he turned back to
old Mr. King.

"Well," he said at last, as the other showed no sign of continuing the
conversation, and still playing with the paper cutter on his desk.

"Permit me to say, sir," Mr. King broke out, finding to his astonishment
it was not an easy matter to talk to this imperturbable man entrenched
behind his own desk, "that I am disappointed in the atmosphere in which
I find my son. It smells of trade, sir, too much to suit my fancy."

"Did you suppose for an instant, Mr. King," asked Mr. Marlowe, dropping
the paper-cutter to pick up the pencil, "that our books came out ready
for libraries, without any intervening process?"

"I certainly supposed Jasper was to be in charge of a literary
department of the house, when I gave my consent to his coming here--"
declared Mr. King very decidedly.

"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, unable longer to keep silent, "how could I
take charge of any department, until I had learned it all myself?"

"You have been through Harvard," his father turned on him, "and it seems
to me are fully competent to do the literary work required here."

"And as for the manufacturing department," continued Jasper, finding it
more difficult to keep still, "it was the only place for me; I had to
begin at the bottom, if I'm ever to be a publisher--which is what my
work is to be--"

"Not so fast--not so fast," cried the old gentleman excitedly. "You are
not to be a publisher, I take it, if I do not wish it. You've given your
word you will not."

"I have given my word, father," said Jasper with a long breath, "and
I'll not go back on it," but his lips whitened.

All this while Mr. Marlowe still played with the little articles on his
desk, sitting very quietly and watching the two. He now threw them down
with an abrupt movement, whirled the revolving chair around suddenly and
sent a lightning-like glance of stern inquiry toward old Mr. King.

"Be so kind, sir, as to define exactly what your intentions are as to
your son's future. Time is very valuable here, and every fraction
squandered has to be made up in some way."

"My intentions are," said the old gentleman, in a lofty way, "to take my
son out of the business--entirely out, sir," he waved his hand in a
stately and comprehensive manner; then glanced to see the effect on the
head of the house.

But there was no effect whatever, except a quick business-like
acceptance of the situation on Mr. Marlowe's implacable face. "Father!"
began Jasper. But old Mr. King was beyond hearing a word.

"I had intended," he went on condescendingly, "to have my son put in a
large interest in the business, supposing it turned out to be the proper
one for him. In fact, his and my financial support would have made it
one of the finest publishing houses in the world."

Mr. Marlowe bowed. "Thank you," he said politely. "James," turning to
the window opening into the book-keeping department, "make out Jasper
King's account and settle at once. I believe you wish to go as soon as
you can, do you not," to Jasper, "that is, after you have given me the
report of the business you did on the trip?"

Jasper could not speak for a moment. Then he said: "But I can't leave my
work in this way--it's," and he sprang to his feet.

"Jasper," Mr. Marlowe stopped a moment and seemed to swallow something
in his throat, then went on, "your father wishes it, and you will make
him happy"--Jasper started at Polly's own words--"that's enough for one
life time. I'm sorry to lose you, my boy," he suddenly grasped Jasper's
hand, "but allow me to say, sir," turning to old Mr. King, "that for you
and your money I have very little consideration. You don't own enough to
make it worth while for the house of David Marlowe & Co. to extend an
invitation to you to enter it. And now, if you will excuse me, I will
hear Jasper's account of the business he was sent on."

With that, seeing it was expected of him, old Mr. King got out of his
chair, by the side of the desk, and passed into the long salesroom.

"I hope you'll believe," began Jasper brokenly, feeling as if the whole
world were going awry, "that this strange idea was never gained from me.
Why, I _love_ the business." His gray eyes glowed as he spoke the
word.

"My boy," Mr. Marlowe's face was alight with feeling, "don't explain, I
understand it all; you've the misfortune to be born into a rich family,
and your father probably never had to raise his hand to earn a penny. He
isn't to be blamed, only I did hope"--

"That I was different," finished Jasper, his head drooping a bit with
the shame of it. "Oh, Mr. Marlowe, father is so splendid--he's just a
magnificent man," he added, the head coming up, with Jasper's old habit
of throwing it back, "if you only knew him and he could have shown you
his old self."

"Don't I know it," responded Mr. Marlowe heartily, "and I also know that
you must stick by him. Only I did hope--and now I will finish what I was
going to say--that you could stay and help me, for you are after my own
heart, Jasper," he added abruptly, a rare tremble in his voice.

Jasper put out his hand instinctively. "Thank you, Mr. Marlowe," he said
as the head of the house grasped it warmly, "I shall never forget this."

And then, as if nothing but the ordinary business had occurred, Jasper
sat down and went carefully over every detail of the commission he had
been sent on, heard Mr. Marlowe's terse, "That's good, Jasper; you've
done it all well," and passed out for the last time, from the private
office, and joined his father in silence, for the walk to the hotel.

That night Jasper's father wanted to go to a concert, so Jasper got a
box, and sat through it all, not seeing anything but Polly's face, and
hearing, "I'd make him happy, any way."

Down in the audience sprinkled here and there, or in the galleries, were
some of the D. Marlowe & Co. salesmen and workers staring often up at
him, and the handsome white-haired old gentleman by his side.

"There's that old snob," they would exclaim at first recognition, to
their companions, "look at him," and under pretense of gazing at the
stage, the opera glasses would be turned on the box. "Looks as if he
owned the whole town, eh?"

"He is awfully handsome, isn't he?" every salesman's companion would
exclaim, looking at Jasper pale and quiet, in the most secluded part of
the box.

"Yes," said every one of the men, only seeing the old gentleman, "but
he's too toploftical to live"--or something to that effect--and then
they would forget all about it till the companion's opera glasses
leveled in the same direction, brought the conversation around to the
old topic.

"They had a flare-up with Mr. Marlowe this morning," confided one
salesman to his friend in the _entr'acte_, "and he's off," with a
nod over to Jasper's private box.

"Oh dear me!" exclaimed the young girl, with a pang at her heart, "has he
left your business?"

"Yes," said the salesman, and a real regret passed over his careless
face, "and it's a shame, for no one would have thought he owned a penny;
he was just digging at the business all the time, like the rest of us."

"Is he very rich?" asked the young girl.

"Well, I should say," began the salesman, unable to find words to
express Jasper's financial condition. Then the curtain rang up.

The next morning, old Mr. King broke the egg into his cup thoughtfully.
"I suppose I might as well look about a bit, now that I'm here, Jasper.
I haven't been in this town for twenty years or so."

"Very well, father," said Jasper, trying not to be listless. "Where
shall we go to-day?"

"Oh, I'll look around by myself," said his father quickly. "You go to
bed--you look all done up," scanning his son's face anxiously.

"Indeed, you will not go alone," said Jasper, rousing himself with
shame. "We'll have a good day together."

"Indeed we will not," retorted the old gentleman.

"I shall have a cab and go by myself. You'll go to bed, or I'll call in
the doctor. Goodness me, Jasper, you don't look like the same boy that
started out in business six months ago; you're all worn out."

Jasper said nothing, only redoubled his efforts on the breakfast before
him that now assumed colossal proportions, and as if it could never be
eaten in the world, hoping to persuade his father into allowing him to
go on the tour of inspection. But it was no use. Mr. King on finishing
his morning repast, stalked out to the office, and ordered a carriage,
and presently departed, with last injunctions to Jasper, "to lie down
and take things easy."

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