MASTER SIMON SNEED MAKES A MISTAKE.
Contrary to the expectations of Katy and her mother, Ann Grippen returned at noon with her tray empty, having sold the whole two dozen sticks.
“Well, Ann, how do you like the business?” asked Katy.
“First rate. Here is twenty-four cents,” replied Ann; and it was evident, from her good-natured laugh, that she was much encouraged by her success.
“You may give me sixteen; the other eight belong to you.”
“I think I can do something at it,” added Ann, as she regarded with much satisfaction the first money she had ever earned in her life.
“You can, if you work it right; but you must be very gentle and patient; you must keep yourself clean and—-“
“Well, I guess I know all about that,” interrupted Ann, who did not like this style of remark.
“Katy,” said her mother, who was sitting in her rocking-chair, by the fire.
“What, mother?”
“Come here a moment.”
Katy crossed the room to her mother, to hear what she wished to say.
“You must not talk to her in that style,” said Mrs. Redburn, in a tone so low that Ann could not hear her.
“Why not, mother? I was only telling her how to do.”
“But you speak in that tone of superiority which no one likes to hear. You are but a child, as she is, and she will not listen to such advice from you.”
Katy wondered what her mother would have thought if she had heard what she said to Ann the day before. Yet she was conscious that she had “put on airs,” and talked like a very old and a very wise person.
“I suppose you would like to go out again this afternoon,” resumed Katy, joining her assistant again.
“I don’t care if I do.”
“Well, come this afternoon, and you shall have some more candy;” and Ann ran home to get her dinner.
“I think my plan will work well, mother,” said Katy, when she had gone.
“It has so far, but you must not be too sure.”
“I mean to go out after dinner and hunt up some more girls, for you see I shall have no candy to sell myself this afternoon, when I have given Ann two dozen sticks.”
“I hope you will not attempt to lecture them as you did her.”
“Why, mother, I know all about the business and they don’t know anything.”
“I doubt not you are competent to advise them; but the manner in which you address them is more offensive than the matter. Your knowledge of the business makes you treat them as inferiors. You must not think too much of yourself, Katy.”
“No danger of that, mother.”
“I am afraid there is. Persons in authority, who are gentle and kind, and do not act like superiors, are more promptly obeyed, and more loved and respected, than those who are puffed up by their office, and tyrannical in their manners.”
“But I am not a person in authority, mother,” laughed Katy.
“You will be, if you employ a dozen girls to sell candy for you.”
After Katy had eaten her dinner, and fitted out Ann Grippen, she left the house in search of some more assistants. She was well known to all the boys and girls in the neighborhood; and when she stated her object to one and another of them, she was readily understood. To help her cause, it had begun to be known that Ann Grippen had been seen with a clean face, selling candy in the street. She had no difficulty, therefore, in procuring the services of half a dozen girls, who were delighted with the plan especially when Katy informed them of Ann’s success.
On her return home, she found that Simon Sneed had called to see her, and she immediately hastened to his house. When she knocked, he came to the door and invited her into the palor.
“Well, Katy, I have hit upon something,” said he.
“I am glad you have.”
“I went down town after I saw you, and hearing of a place in Tremont Row, I went to apply for it.”
“Did you get it?”
“Not yet, but I hope to get it. They agreed to give me three dollars a week if everything proved satisfactory; but they wanted a recommendation from my last employers.”
“Of course they will give you one.”
“No, they would not; they were offended because I left them.”
“Then you asked them?”
“Yes, I went after one this afternoon, and they would not give it to me. I did not much expect they would, and so I informed Messrs. Runn & Reed, the firm to which I have applied for an engagement. I told them exactly how the case stood; that I had demanded higher wages, and the Messrs. Sands were angry with me for doing so, and for that reason refused the testimonial. They saw through it all, and understood my position. When I spoke to them about my friend the mayor, they looked surprised, and said a recommendation from him would satisfy them. So you see just how I am situated.”
“Why don’t you go to him at once, and ask him for the recommendation?” said Katy wondering why he hesitated at so plain a case.
But Master Simon had some scruples about doing so. He was old enough to know that it was rather a delicate business to ask a man in a high official station for a testimonial on so slight an acquaintance. The mayor was interested in Katy, though she did not presume to call him her friend. She had twice called upon him, and she might again.
“I don’t like to ask him, Katy. I feel some delicacy about doing so.”
“I should just as lief ask him as not, if I were you. I am afraid you are too proud, Master Simon.”
“I am proud, Katy: that’s just it. I was born to be a gentleman, but I submit to my lot. I am willing to sell my talents and my labor for money. If I can once get in at Runn & Reed’s, I am sure they will appreciate me, and consider it a lucky day on which they engaged me.”
“If you want me to go to the mayor’s house with you, I will,” said Katy, who did not clearly comprehend Simon’s wishes.
“Well, I think I will not go myself,” replied Simon.
“Why not?”
“I do not like to place myself in a humiliating posture before great men. If I were mayor of Boston, I should like to do him the favor which I ask for myself. When I am–“
“You haven’t asked him, Master Simon.”
“In a word, Katy, I want you to ask him for me. You will do me a great favor.”
“I will,” replied Katy, promptly.
“The mayor is a very fine man, kind-hearted, and willing to help everybody that deserves help; and if he were not my friend, I should feel no delicacy in asking him myself. You can state the case, and inform him who I am, and what I am; that you know me to be honest and faithful. You can tell him, too, that I am a gentlemanly person, of pleasing address.”
“But I can’t remember all that,” interposed Katy.
“Tell him what you can recollect, then. He is an easy, good-natured man, and will give you the testimonial at once.”
“Suppose you write a paper, just such as you want, Master Simon. Then he can copy it.”
“Well I will do that.”
Simon seated himself at a table, and, after considerable effort, produced the following piece of elegant composition, which he read to Katy:–
“To whom it may concern:
“This may certify that I have been for some time acquainted with my friend Mr. Simon Sneed, and I believe him to be an honest and faithful young man, of gentlemanly bearing, pleasing address, and polite manners, who will be an honor and an ornament to any establishment that may be so fortunate as to secure his valuable services; and I cheerfully recommend him to any person to whom he may apply for a situation. Mayor of Boston.”
“I have left a blank space for his honor’s signature,” continued Master Simon, when he had read the modest document. “What do you think of it, Katy?”
“It is very fine. What a great scholar you must be! I should think you’d write a book.”
“Perhaps I may one of these days.”
“I will go right up to the mayor’s house now,” said Katy, as she bade him good afternoon.
Before she went, she returned home and nicely enclosed six sticks of candy in white paper as a present for Freddie, the mayor’s little son. On her way up to Park Street she opened Simon’s paper, and read it. It sounded funny to her, with its big words and fine sentences; and then what a puffing Master Simon had given himself! She even began to wonder if there was not something about her gentlemanly friend which was not all right.
She reached the mayor’s house, and as it was his time to be at home, she was conducted to the library.
“Ah, Katy, I am glad to see you,” said he, taking her hand.
“Thank you, sir. I have brought this candy for Master Freddie.”
“You are very good, and I suppose you are so proud that I must not offer to pay you for it.”
“If you please, don’t, sir,” replied Katy, unconsciously taking Master Simon’s testimonial from her pocket. “I don’t want you to pay me in money, but you may pay me in another way, if you please.”
“May I? What have you in your hand?”
“A paper, sir. You remember Master Simon Sneed?”
“No, I don’t.”
“The young man at Sands & Co.’s.”
“O, yes; the young gentleman that uses so many long words.”
“He has left his place, and wants to get another.”
“He has left it? Why was that?”
“He asked for more wages. He has found another place, which he can have if he can get a testimonial.”
“Let him ask Sands & Co.”
“They won’t give him one, because they are so angry with him for leaving them.”
“That indeed!”
“Master Simon wants you to give him one,” continued Katy, who, in her confusion was jumping at the conclusion of the matter rather too hastily, and before she had produced a proper impression in regard to her hero’s transcendent character and ability.
“Does he, indeed,” laughed the mayor. “He is very modest.”
“He said, as you are his friend, you would not object to giving him one.”
“What have you in your hand, Katy? Has he written one to save me the trouble?” laughed the mayor.
“I asked him to do so. You can copy it off, if you please, sir.”
The mayor took the testimonial and proceeded to read it. Katy had already concluded from his manner that the business was not all correct, and she wished herself out of the scrape. He finished the reading, and then burst into a violent fit of laughter.
“Your friend is very modest, Katy;–my friend Mr. Simon Sneed.”
“I hope I haven’t done anything wrong, sir?” stammered Katy.
“No, Katy; you have been imposed upon by a silly young man. You meant to do him a kindness–in your heart you had nothing but kindness–and I think the more of you for what you have done, and the less of Simon for what he has done. Did he think I would recommend him, when I know nothing about him? He is a conceited puppy, and, in my opinion, a worthless fellow. One of these days he will be `an honor and an ornament’ to the workhouse, if he does business in this manner.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed Katy, frightened at the remarks of the mayor.
“Now, Katy, we will go to the store of the Messrs. Sands & Co., and find out about this young man. I will meet you there at half-past four. Good-by, Katy. Freddie thinks ever so much of you now, and in his behalf I thank you for the candy.”
Katy did not know exactly what to make of her position but at the time fixed, she was at the store of Sands & Co., where the mayor soon joined her.
“Now, Katy, you shall hear what his employers say of Master Simon,” said he; and she followed him into the store.
The mayor stated his business, and inquired concerning the character of Simon.
“He is honest, and did his work very well,” replied Mr. Sands.
Katy was pleased to hear this, and the mayor confessed his surprise.
“But he was an intolerable nuisance about the store,” continued Mr. Sands. “With only a small amount of modesty, he would have done very well; as it was, he was the biggest man in our employ. Our customers were disgusted with him, and we had been thinking of getting rid of him for a long time. When he asked for more wages, impudently declaring he would leave if we did not accede to his demand, we discharged him. In a word, I wouldn’t have him round the store at any price.”
“As I supposed,” replied the mayor, as he showed Mr. Sands the recommendation Simon had written.
“This sounds just like him.”
Katy pitied poor Simon now that she understood him, and she went home determined to tell him all that had passed between the mayor and herself.
CHAPTER XV.
KATY GETS A LETTER FROM LIVERPOOL.
Master Simon Sneed sat at the window when Katy returned, and she had to tell him all about it. She pitied him, poor fellow, and she hoped the lesson would do him good. She did not like to tell him so many unpleasant things, for they would wound his pride.
“Well, Katy, what did my friend the mayor say?” asked Simon, as he joined her on the sidewalk.
“I am afraid you will not call him your friend after this,” replied Katy.
“Why? He had not the effrontery to refuse my reasonable request?”
“The what? Please to use words that I can understand,” said she, for she was not a little disgusted with Simon’s big words, now she knew how much mischief they had done him.
“Didn’t he give you the paper?”
“He did not.”
“I didn’t think that of him. It was shabby.”
“He said he did not know you. But I showed him your paper, in which you had written down what you thought of yourself.”
“Well, what did he say to that?” asked Simon, eagerly.
“I thought he would split his fat sides laughing. He didn’t seem to believe a word of it.”
“He didn’t? I am surprised at that.”
“He said you were a conceited puppy.”
“I always took the mayor for a sensible fellow; I see I have been mistaken.”
“He didn’t like it because you sent me to him upon such an errand. He said you had imposed upon me.”
“Go on, Katy; I may expect anything after what you have said,” replied Simon, with all the coolness and indifference he could command.
“He said he believed you were a worthless fellow. Then he told me to meet him at the store of the Messrs. Sands & Co., and he would inquire about you.”
“Then you went to the store?”
“We did; and when the mayor asked Mr. Sands about you, he said you were honest, and did your work well, but—-“
“Notice that remark particularly. I hope you called the mayor’s attention to it,” interrupted Master Simon. “What else did he say?”
“He said you were a nuisance—-“
“Observe how far his prejudices carried him. That man believed, if I stayed in the store, that I should supplant him and his partner. You see how far he carried his spite.”
“But he said all the good he could of you Simon,” said Katy. “He said you were honest and did your work well.”
“Can a nuisance be honest, and do work well? Hath not a Jew eyes?” queried Mr. Simon, with dramatic fervor.
“He didn’t say anything about Jews.”
“I was quoting Shakspeare, the immortal bard of Avon. Katy, Sands knew that I was securing the respect and esteem of all his customers; and he knew very well if I should step into a rival establishment, I should take half his trade with me,” continued the injured Sneed.
“He said his customers were disgusted with you. You talked so big and thought so much of yourself, he would not have you in the store at any price. But I should think that Runn & Reed would be glad to have you if you can carry so much trade with you.”
“They cannot know till I have had a chance to show them what I can do.”
“I hope you will soon have such a chance.”
“There is one thing about it; when I do, Sands & Co. will see the mistake they have made. I think the ladies that visit their store will miss a familiar face. They used to insist upon my waiting upon them, though it was not exactly in the line of my duty to sell goods. Often was I called away from the bundle department to attend them. No one seemed to suit them but me. Why, it was only the day before I left that an elegant, aristocratic lady from Beacon Street made me go clear home with her.”
“Why, what for?”
“To carry her bundle; but that was all a pretense.”
“Did she invite you to tea, Master Simon?” asked Katy, who could hardly help laughing in his face.
“No, but she kept me quarter of an hour at the door.”
“What did she say?”
“She was trying to make it out that I had brought the wrong bundle, and so she opened it, in the entry; but it was only to keep me there.”
“You think she was smitten?” laughed Katy.
“I have an opinion,” replied Simon, sagely. “There are a good many fine ladies will miss my face.”
Katy didn’t think any fine lady could be much charmed with that thin, hatchet face; and she realized now that Master Simon was a great heap of vanity. She never thought before that he could be so silly. She wanted to tell him that he was a great fool, for she feared he would never find it out himself; but he was older than she was, and she did not think it quite proper to do so.
“I must go now,” said Katy. “If you don’t find anything you like better, you can sell candy, you know.”
“Katy!” exclaimed Simon, sternly.
“I am poor and proud, Master Simon; I am too proud to be dependent, or do anything mean and wicked; but I am not too proud to sell candy.”
“I am,” replied Simon, with dignity.
“Then yours is a foolish pride,” replied Katy, with a smile to soften the hard words; and she walked away toward her own house.
She felt thankful that she had no such pride as Simon’s; and she had reason to be thankful for when any person is too proud to do the work which God has placed within his reach, he becomes a pitiable object, and honest men will regard him with contempt.
Katy had to work very hard that evening, in making candy for her assistants to sell, and it was nine o’clock before she was ready to go to bed.
The next morning, all the girls who had engaged to come, appeared with their trays, and were supplied with candy. Katy instructed them very modestly in the art of selling; taking upon herself no airs, and assuming no superiority. Ann Grippen came with them, and seemed to be very much pleased with her new occupation.
At noon they all returned, though only two of them had sold out their two dozen sticks. Katy gave them further instructions in regard to the best places to sell candy, and when they came home at night, all but one had disposed of their stock. The experiment, therefore was regarded as a successful one. The next day several other girls, who had heard of Katy’s plan, came to the house, and wanted to be engaged. The little merchant could not supply them, but promised, if they would come the next day, to furnish them with a stock. Even now, the quantity manufactured required the services of Mrs. Colvin for three hours, and this day she engaged her to come immediately after dinner.
I need not detail the manner in which Katy’s trade kept increasing. In a fortnight she had more than a dozen girls employed in selling candy. She was actually making a wholesale business of it, and no longer traveled about the streets herself. By the first of December, Mrs. Redburn had so far recovered her health as to be able to take charge of the manufacturing part of the business, and Katy was permitted to go to school, though she supplied the girls in the morning and at noon, and settled all their accounts.
One day she received a call from Michael, Mrs. Gordon’s man, requesting her attendance in Temple Street. She obeyed the summons; but when she met Mrs. Gordon and Grace, she was alarmed to see how coldly and reproachfully they looked upon her.
“I have heard a very bad story about you, Katy,” said Mrs. Gordon.
“About me?” gasped she.
“Yes; and I was very sorry to hear it.”
“What was it, ma’am? I hope I haven’t done anything to lose your good will.”
“I am afraid you have.”
“I don’t believe she did it, mother,” said Grace. “She is too good to do any such thing.”
“What is it? Do tell me.”
“I have been told that a little girl, who sells candy, has been playing tricks upon passers-by in the streets; that she tells lies and deceives them.”
“I never did such a thing!” protested Katy, her cheeks covered with the blush of indignation.
Mrs. Gordon explained the deception, and spoke in very severe terms of it. The trick had been played off on a friend of hers, who had told of it the evening before.
“When was it, ma’am?” asked Katy.
“Yesterday forenoon.”
“I was in school then. Besides, I haven’t sold any candy in the street for more than three weeks.”
“I knew it wasn’t she!” exclaimed Grace triumphantly.
“I was very unwilling to believe it,” added Mrs. Gordon; “but the description seemed to point you out as the little deceiver.”
“I wouldn’t do such a thing, ma’am. If you inquire you will find that I have been in school every day this week.”
“I believe you, Katy. But can you tell me who it was?”
“I don’t know, but I will find out;” and before she took her leave she told the ladies how she conducted her business, which amused them very much.
“Who played this trick?” said she to herself when she got into the street. “If I can only find out, I will discharge her. She will bring the business into contempt.”
Of course no one would own it, and the only way she could find out was by watching them. It must be stopped, for, besides being too honest to allow such deception, Katy saw that it would spoil the trade.
When she got home, she found a letter which the penny-post had brought, directed to her in large schoolboy hand.
“It is from Tommy,” exclaimed she, eagerly seizing the letter and retiring to a corner to read it.
“You and Tommy are great friends,” said her mother.
“Yes, mother; but don’t you see it came all the way from Liverpool?”
Mrs. Redburn sighed deeply at the mention of her native city, and a thousand memories of the past flitted before her. Katy broke the seal, and as this letter contained some very important information, my young readers may look over her shoulder while she reads it. It was as follows:–
Liverpool, Nov. 13, 1845.
“Dear Friend:–I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well, and I hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessing. I arrived to Liverpool safe and sound, and when I got home, I will tell you all about it. Just as we got in to the dock, I kept thinking about what you told me. They won’t let us have any fires on board ship in the docks; so we all board ashore. I asked the man where we stopped if he knew such a merchant as Matthew Guthrie. He did not know him, and never heard of him. Then I went round among the big merchants, and asked about your grandfather. I asked a good many before I found one who knew him, and he said your grandfather had been dead ten years. I asked him where the family was. He said Mr. Guthrie had only two daughters; that one of them had run away with her father’s clerk, and the other was married and gone to America. He said her husband belonged to Baltimore. This was all he knew about it, and all I could find out. We shall sail home in about three weeks. I thought you would like to know; so I wrote this letter to send by the steamer. Drop in and see my mother, and tell her I am well, and had a tiptop voyage over. No more at present from
“Your affectionate friend, “THOMAS HOWARD.”
Katy read the letter twice over, and then gave it to her mother, after explaining that she had told Tommy her story, and requested him to inquire about her grandfather. Mrs. Redburn was too much affected by the news from her early home to find fault with Katy for what she had done.
Both of them felt very sad for while Mrs. Redburn thought of her father, who had lain in his grave ten years without her knowledge, Katy could not but mourn over the hopes which Tommy’s letter had blasted.
CHAPTER XVI.
ANN GRIPPEN PLAYS TRICKS UPON TRAVELERS.
The next day was Wednesday, and as school kept but half a day, Katy resolved to spend the afternoon in finding out which of her employees was in the habit of practicing the deception which Mrs. Gordon had described to her. She could think of no one upon whom she could fasten the guilt, unless it was Ann Grippen, who, she thought, would be more likely to play such a trick than any other. After she had delivered their candy, she put on her things and followed the girls down to State Street, where they separated. Ann went up Court Street, and Katy decided that she needed watching, and so she followed her.
It was a very tedious afternoon to the little wholesale merchant, but the dignity of the trade depended upon her efforts in seeking the offender. Ann entered various shops, and seemed to be having very good luck with her stock. At last she appeared to grow tired of her labors, and turned into an alley. Katy wondered what she was going to do there, for it was certainly no place to sell candy. She waited sometime for her to come out, and when she heard her steps, she placed herself at the corner of the alley, in such a position that Ann could not see her face.
Presently she heard Ann crying with all her might; and crying so very naturally that she could hardly persuade herself that it was not real. She glanced over her shoulder at her, and discovered that she had broken the nice sticks of candy into a great many little pieces; and it was for this purpose that she had gone into the alley. Katy was indignant when she saw so much valuable merchandise thus ruthlessly mutilated, and the sale of it spoiled. She was disposed to present herself to the artful girl, and soundly lecture her for the deceit and wickedness: but she wanted to see how the game was played.
“Boo, hoo, hoo!” sobbed Ann Grippen, apparently suffering all the pangs of a broken heart, which could not possibly be repaired.
“What is the matter, little girl?” asked a benevolent lady, attracted by the distress of Ann.
“Boo, hoo, hoo!” cried Ann, unable to speak on account of the torrents of wo that overwhelmed her.
“Don’t cry, little girl, and tell me what the matter is,” continued the kind lady.
“Boo, hoo, hoo! I fell down and broke all my candy,” sobbed Ann.
“Poor child!” exclaimed the sympathizing lady.
“My father’ll beat me because I didn’t sell it,” added Ann.
“He is a cruel man. Are you sure he will punish you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” groaned Ann. “He’ll whip me almost to death if I don’t bring home half a dollar.”
“You can tell him you fell down and broke the candy,” suggested the lady.
“He won’t believe me; he’ll say I sold the candy and spent the money. O, dear me.”
“You can show him the pieces.”
“Boo, hoo, hoo! Then he’ll say I broke it on purpose, because I was too lazy to sell it; and then he’ll kill me–I know he will.”
“I will go and see him, and tell him about the accident. Where do you live?”
“Down North Square. He ain’t to home now,” replied Ann, who was not quite prepared for this method of treating the subject.
“Poor child! I pity you,” sighed the lady.
“O, dear me!” cried Ann, exerting herself to the utmost to deepen the impression she had made.
“How much do you want to make up the value of your candy?”
“Half a dollar.”
“There it is, poor child! If it will save you from abuse, you are welcome to it.”
“Thank you, ma’am. It may save my life,” replied Ann, as she took the half dollar and put it in her pocket.
“What an awful liar she is!” said Katy to herself, as the lady hurried on, probably much pleased with herself as she thought of the kind act she supposed she had done.
Katy was curious to know what her unworthy assistant would do next, and she followed her down Hanover Street, and saw her stop before the American House. She could not believe that Ann would have the hardihood to play off the same trick again so soon; and she was very much surprised and very indignant when she saw her begin to cry with all her might, just as she had done before. While the deceitful girl’s eyes were covered with her apron, in the extremity of her grief, Katy contrived to get on the hotel steps behind her, so that she could see and hear all that passed.
“What is the matter with that girl?” asked a gentleman, who presently appeared at the door, addressing another who was just behind him.
“It is the broken candy dodge,” replied the second gentleman. “That trick has been played off a dozen times within a week.”
“What does it mean?” asked the first. “I don’t understand it.”
The second explained the trick, precisely as Katy had just witnessed it in Court Street.
“Now, don’t say a word,” he continued. “I have a counterfeit half dollar in my pocket, and you shall see how it is done.”
With this announcement of his purpose, he accosted Ann, who told him about the same story she had told the lady, and he finally gave her the counterfeit half dollar, which Ann did not suspect was a bad one.
“How abominably wicked she is,” exclaimed Katy, as she followed her up the street. “But I will soon spoil all her fun, and cut off her profits. I will teach her that honesty is the best policy.”
It was easier for Katy to resolve what to do than it was to do it; for the wicked girl could easily get her stock through another person. As she walked up the street, Ann lightened her load by eating the pieces of broken candy, upon which she seemed to feed with hearty relish. At a window in Court Street, Ann stopped to look at some pictures, when she was joined by another of the candy sellers, and they walked together till they came to an unfrequented court, which they entered. Katy could hear enough of their conversation, as she followed them, to ascertain that they were talking about the tricks Ann had practiced. In the court they seated themselves on a door-stone, and as they talked and laughed about the deceit, they ate the pieces of candy.
“There,” said Ann, “I have made a dollar and ten cents this afternoon. You don’t catch me walking all over the city for twenty-four cents, when I don’t get but eight of that.”
“I ain’t so smart as you,” modestly replied Julia Morgan, the other girl.
“You’ll learn,” said Ann, as she took out her money and exhibited the two half dollars.
“I don’t think people would believe me, if I should try that game.”
“Try some other. I think I shall, for I’ve about used up the broken candy game.”
“What other?”
“I have one,” replied Ann, prudently declining to divulge her secret; “and when I’ve tried it, I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Why don’t you try it now?”
“I would if my candy wasn’t broken.”
“I will let you have mine.”
“Then I will.”
“Give me fourteen cents.”
“I will when I’ve done with it.”
“No, you don’t,” laughed Julia, who justly inferred that if Ann would cheat one person, she would another.
But Ann was so much interested in the experiment that she decided to give the fourteen cents, and took the candy. Katy wondered what the new game could be, and wanted to see her carry it out, though her conscience smote her for permitting the lady to be deceived, when she could have unmasked the deceit. She resolved not to let another person be deceived, and followed the two girls into State Street, as much for the purpose of exposing Ann’s wickedness, as to learn the trick she intended to play.
“Now you go away,” said Ann to her companion, as she placed herself on the steps of the Merchants-Bank.
It was nearly dark by this time, and as there were but few persons in the street, Ann did not commence her part of the performance till she saw a well-dressed gentleman approach; whereupon she began to cry as she had done twice before that day.
“Boo, hoo, hoo! O, dear me! I shall be killed!” cried she, so lustily, that the well-dressed gentleman could not decently avoid inquiring the cause of her bitter sorrow.
“I haven’t sold out,” sobbed Ann.
“What if you haven’t? Why need you cry about it?” asked the stranger.
“My mother will kill me if I go home without half a dollar.”
“She is a cruel woman, then.”
“Boo, hoo, hoo! She’ll beat me to death! O, dear me! I only got ten cents.”
“Why don’t you fly round and sell your candy?” said the gentleman.
“I can’t now, the folks have all gone, and it’s almost dark. O, I wish I was dead!”
“Well, well, don’t cry any more; I’ll give you half a dollar, and that will make it all right;” and he put his hand in his pocket for the money.
“Don’t give it to her,” said Katy, stepping out of the lane by the side of the bank. “She has deceived you, sir.”
“Deceived me, has she?” added the stranger as he glanced at Katy.
“Yes, sir. She has got more than a dollar in her pocket now.”
“Don’t you believe her,” sobbed Ann, still prudently keeping up the appearance of grief .
“How do you know she has deceived me?” asked the stranger, not a little piqued, as he thought how readily he had credited the girl’s story.
“Because I saw her play a trick just like this twice before this afternoon. She has two half dollars in her pocket now, though one of them is counterfeit.”
“What do you mean by that, Katy Redburn?” demanded Ann, angrily, and now forgetting her woe and her tears.
“You speak very positively,” said the gentleman to Katy; “and if what you say is true, something should be done about it.”
“She is telling lies!” exclaimed Ann, much excited.
“We can soon determine, for here comes a policeman, and I will refer the matter to him.
At these words, Ann edged off the steps of the bank, and suddenly started off as fast as she could run, having, it seemed, a very wholesome aversion to policemen. But she made a bad mistake, for, not seeing in what direction the officer was approaching, she ran into the very jaws of the lion.
“Stop her!” shouted the gentleman.
The policeman laid a rude hand upon her shoulder, and marched her back to the bank. In a few words the gentleman stated what had happened, and requested the officer to search her, and thus decide whether Katy told the truth or not. He readily consented, and on turning out Ann’s pocket, produced the two half dollars, one of which the gentleman decided was a counterfeit coin.
“How could you know this was a counterfeit?” he asked of Katy.
“I heard a gentleman at the door of the American House, who knew the game, tell another that it was a counterfeit;” and she proceeded to give all the particulars of the two tricks she had seen Ann play off.
“I shall have to take you to the lock-up, my little joker,” said the policeman.
“O, dear me!” cried Ann, and this time she was in earnest.
“Please don’t do that!” said Katy, who had not foreseen this consequence of the game.
“I must; it is downright swindling.”
“Please don’t; she has a father and mother and I dare say they will feel very bad about it. I promise you she shall never do it again,” pleaded Katy.
“I must do my duty. This candy trick has been played a good many times, and has become a nuisance. I must lock her up.”
“Save me, Katy, save me!” begged Ann terrified at the thought of being put in a prison or some dreadful place.
“Why do you wish to save her?” interposed the gentleman.
“Because her mother will feel so bad; and she will lay it all to me.”
Katy told him all about herself and about Ann, and he was so much interested in her that he joined in pleading for Ann’s release. The officer was firm for a long time, but when the gentleman declared that he should not appear against her, he decided to let her go, to Katy’s great delight, as well as to Ann’s.
Humbled by the peril from which she had just escaped, Ann promised never to be guilty of playing another trick upon travelers; but Katy was firm in her purpose not to supply her with any more candy. She did not dare to resent Katy’s interference, for the terrors of the lock-up were still in her mind, and she did not know but that Katy might have her arrested and punished for what she had done, if she attempted to retaliate upon her.
Katy was shocked at the wickedness of her companion; and, as they walked home together she tried to make her see the enormity of her offense, and give her some better views of her duty to her fellow-beings. Ann heard her in silence and with humility, and the little moralist hoped the event would result in good to her.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE SUN SETS, AND THE NIGHT COMES ON.
Having recorded the steps by which Katy had carried forward her now flourishing trade, from the dawn of the idea up to the height of its prosperity, we may pass over a year with only a brief note of its principal incidents.
My young readers may have supposed that Katy and her mother had gathered a great deal of money in the candy trade. It was not so, for as the business increased, and Katy’s labors as a saleswoman were withdrawn, the expenses increased, and the profits were proportionally less. And then, neither Mrs. Redburn nor her daughter had a faculty for saving up much money; so that, though they made considerable, their prosperity permitted new demands to be made upon the purse. They hired two more rooms; they replaced the clothing and furniture which had been sacrificed under the pressure of actual want, and they lived better than they had lived before; and Mrs. Redburn had availed herself of the services of a distinguished physician, whose attendance had cost a large sum. It is true they lived very well, much better than people in their circumstances ought to have lived. Therefore, notwithstanding their prosperity, they had saved but a small sum from the proceeds of the year’s business. They were not rich; they were simply in comfortable circumstances, which, considering their situation when Katy commenced business, was quite enough to render them very thankful to the Giver of all good for the rich blessings He had bestowed upon them.
These were not all temporal blessings; if they had been, their success would only have been partial and temporary, their prosperity only an outward seeming, which, in the truest and highest sense, can hardly be called prosperity; no more than if a man should gain a thousand dollars worth of land, and lose a thousand dollars worth of stocks or merchandise. Both Katy and her mother, while they were gathering the treasures of this world, were also “laying up treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt.” Want had taught them its hard lessons, and they had come out of the fiery furnace of affliction the wiser and the better for the severe ordeal. The mother’s foolish pride had been rebuked, the daughter’s true pride had been encouraged. They had learned that faith and patience are real supports in the hour of trial. The perilous life in the streets which Katy had led for a time, exposed her to a thousand temptations; and she and her mother thanked God that they had made her stronger and truer, as temptation resisted always makes the soul. That year of experience had given Katy a character; it expanded her views of life, and placed her in a situation where she was early called upon to decide between the right and the wrong; when she was required to select her path for life. She had chosen the good way, as Ann Grippen had chosen the evil way.
I do not mean to say her character was formed, or that having chosen to be good, she could not afterwards be evil. But the great experiences of life which generally come in more mature years, had been forced upon her while still a child; and nobly and truly had she taken up and borne the burden imposed upon her. As a child she had done the duties of the full-grown woman, and she had done them well. She had been faithful to herself.
Providence kindly ordains that the child shall serve a long apprenticeship before it is called upon to think and act for itself. Katy had anticipated the period of maturity, and with the untried soul of a child, had been compelled to grapple with its duties and its temptations. As her opportunities to be good and do good were increased, so was her liability to do wrong. She had her faults, great, grave faults, but she was truly endeavoring to overcome them.
Tommy had returned from his voyage to Liverpool, and joyous was the meeting between Katy and her sailor friend. It took him all the evenings for a week to tell the story of his voyage, to which Mrs. Redburn and her daughter listened with much satisfaction. He remained at home two months, and then departed on a voyage to the East Indies.
Master Simon Sneed, after Katy’s attempt to serve him, did not tell her many more large stories about himself, for she understood him now, and knew that he was not half so great a man as he pretended to be. In the spring he obtained a situation in a small retail store where there was not a very wide field for the exercise of his splendid abilities. He had been idle all winter, and when he lamented his misfortunes to Katy, she always asked why he did not sell candy. Once she suggested that he should learn a trade, to which Master Simon always replied, that he was born to be a gentleman, and would never voluntarily demean himself by pursuing a degrading occupation. He was above being a mechanic, and he would never soil his hands with dirty work. Katy began to think he was really a fool. She could scarcely think him “poor and proud”; he was only poor and foolish.
At the close of Katy’s first year in trade, a great misfortune befell her in the loss of Mrs. Colvin, her able assistant in the manufacturing department of the business. A worthy man, who owned a little farm in the country, tempted her with an offer of marriage, and her conscience (I suppose) would not let her refuse it. Katy, though she was a woman, so far as the duties and responsibilities of life were concerned, was still a child in her feelings and affections, and cried bitterly when they parted. The good woman was scarcely less affected, and made Katy and her mother promise an early visit to her farm.
Katy’s sorrow at parting with her beloved friend was not the only, nor perhaps, the most important, result of Mrs. Colvin’s departure, for they were deprived of the assistance of the chief candy-puller. Katy tried to secure another woman for this labor, but could not find a person who would serve her in this capacity. After a vain search, Mrs. Redburn thought she was able to do the work herself, for her health seemed to be pretty well established. Perhaps, she reasoned, it was quite as well that Mrs. Colvin had gone, for if she could pull the candy herself, it would save from two to three dollars a week.
Katy would not consent that she should do it alone, but agreed to divide the labor between them. The quantity manufactured every day was so great that the toil of making it fell heavily upon them; but as Mrs. Redburn did not complain, Katy was too proud to do so though her wrists and shoulders pained her severely every night after the work was done.
This toil weighed heavily on Katy’s rather feeble constitution; but all her mother could say would not induce her to abandon the work. For a month they got along tolerably well, and, perhaps, no evil consequences would have followed this hard labor, if everything else had gone well with Katy. The girls who sold the candy had for some time caused her considerable trouble and anxiety. Very often they lost their money, or pretended to do so, and three or four of them had resorted to Ann Grippen’s plan of playing “trick upon travelers.” She had to discharge a great many, and to accept the services of those whom she did not know, and who, by various means, contrived to cheat her out of the money received from the sales of the candy. These things annoyed her very much, and she cast about her for a remedy.
One day, three girls, each of whom had been supplied with half a dollar’s worth of candy, did not appear to account for the proceeds. Here was a loss of a dollar in one day. Such things as these are the common trials of business; but Katy who was so scrupulously honest and just herself, was severely tried by them. It was not the loss of the money only, but the dishonesty of the girls that annoyed her.
“What shall be done, mother?” said she, anxiously, when the loss was understood to be actual. “I can’t find these girls. I don’t even know their names.”
“Probably, if you did find them, you could not obtain any satisfaction.”
“I went to see one girl’s mother the other day, you know, and she drove me out of her house, and called me vile names.”
“I was thinking of a plan,” continued Mrs. Redburn, “though I don’t know as it would work well.”
“Anything would work better than this being constantly cheated; for it is really worse for the girls than it is for us. I have often felt that those who cheat us are the real sufferers. I would a good deal rather be cheated than cheat myself.”
“You are right, Katy; and that is a Christian view of the subject. I suppose we are in duty bound to keep these girls as honest as we can.”
“What is your plan, mother?” asked Katy.
“We will sell them the candy, instead of employing them to sell it for us.”
“But they won’t pay us.”
“Let them pay in advance. We will sell them the candy at eight cents a dozen. Any girl who wants two dozen sticks, must bring sixteen cents.”
“I don’t believe we can find any customers.”
“We can try it. For a time, probably, the sales will be less.”
“Very well, mother, we will try it; for I think it would be better to keep them honest, even if we don’t sell more than half so much.”
When the girls appeared the next morning to receive their stock, it was announced to them that the business would thereafter be conducted on a different basis; that they must pay for their candy before they got it, and thus become independent merchants themselves. Most of them were unable to comply with the terms, and begged hard to be trusted one day more. Katy was firm, for she saw that they would be more likely to be dishonest that day, to revenge themselves for the working of the new system.
The girls were not all dishonest, or even a majority of them, but the plan must be applied to all. Most of them went home, therefore, and shortly returned with money enough to buy one or two dozen sticks. As Mrs. Redburn had predicted, the effect of the adoption of the new plan was unfavorable for a few days. The obstinate ones would not buy, hoping to make the wholesale dealer go back to the old plan. After a week or two, however, they began to come back, one by one, and the trade rather increased than diminished; for many of the young merchants, having the responsibility of selling out all the stock imposed upon them, used greater exertion than before, and strong efforts almost always produced some success.
Thus the business went on very prosperously though Mrs. Redburn and Katy were obliged to work very hard–so hard that the former began to experience a return of her old complaint. The affectionate daughter was frightened when she first mentioned the fact, and begged her not to work any more.
“What shall I do, Katy?” asked she, with a smile.
“Let me make the candy,” replied Katy. “I am strong enough.”
“No, Katy, you are not. I am afraid you are injuring yourself now.”
“I am sure I am not. But I can’t bear to think of your being sick again.”
“We must look out for our health, Katy; that ought to be the first of our earthly considerations.”
“We ought, indeed, mother; so, if you please, I shall not let you pull any more candy.”
“Shall I save my own health at the expense of yours?”
“I shall get along very well. I feel very strong.”
“You are not very strong; I have reproached myself a great many times for letting you do so much as you have. I have felt the pain for a fortnight, and though I greatly fear I shall have a return of my complaint, I cannot let you do all this work. We are neither of us fit to perform such hard labor and both of us must be relieved from it. I shall go out to-morrow, and make a business of finding a person to do this work for us.”
Mrs. Redburn did try, but she tried in vain. It was odd, queer strange work, as the women called it, and they didn’t want to do anything of the kind. Katy proposed that they should employ a man; and when they finally found one, he was a stupid fellow, and they much preferred to do the work themselves, to seeing him daub the house all over with the candy, and leave it half done.
They persevered, however, in their efforts to find a person, and after trying half a dozen, who could not or would not do the work, they gave it up in despair. But not long were they permitted to struggle with the severe toil which their circumstances imposed upon them; for on the night before Christmas, when a large demand for candy was anticipated, and both of them had worked very hard, Mrs. Redburn fainted and fell upon the floor. It was in this manner that she had been taken at the commencement of her former long sickness, and to Katy the future looked dark and gloomy. But she did not give up. She applied herself, with all her energies, to the restoration of her mother; and when she was partially conscious, she attempted to conduct her to the bed. The poor woman’s strength was all gone, and Katy was obliged to call in Mrs. Howard to assist her.
Mrs. Redburn suffered the most severe and racking pains through the night, and at about twelve o’clock, Katy went to Mr. Sneed’s house, and calling up Simon, begged him to go for a doctor. But the physician’s art seemed powerless to soothe her. All night long the devoted daughter, like an angel of mercy, hovered around the bed, and did all he could in vain attempts to ease the sufferer’s pain.
Poor Katy! The sun of prosperity had set, and the night of adversity was coming on.
CHAPTER XVIII.
KATY STRUGGLES BRAVELY THROUGH A SERIES OF TRIALS.
The morning sun rose clear and bright, casting a flood of light into the chamber of the sick mother, watched over by the beloved child. It was Christmas, and all over the Christian world arose paeans of praise for the birth of the Saviour. The sufferer was conscious of the fact, and a sweet smile played upon her lips, as she thought of Jesus–that he had lived and died for her. Pain, that could rack the bones and triumph over the weak body, was powerless to subdue the loving, trusting spirit, that reposed gently on Him who has invited the weary to a present and an eternal rest.
“Katy,” said Mrs. Redburn, in a faint whisper.
“I am here, mother,” replied she, bending over her and endeavoring to anticipate her unspoken desire.
“Is the hymn book on the table?”
“Here it is, mother.”
“Won’t you read me a hymn?”
“What shall I read?” asked Katy, who could with difficulty keep back the flood of tears that rose up from her heart.
” `Come, said Jesus’ sacred voice.’ “
Katy opened the book to the beautiful hymn commencing with this line, and in a voice broken by the emotion she could not wholly control, she read it through. The smile that played on her mother’s face showed how deep and pure was the consolation she derived from the touching poetry. She could smile while racking pains tortured her frame, while her frail body seemed hardly to retain its hold upon mortality. How blessed the hope that pours its heavenly balm into the wounds of the sufferer!
Poor Katy was painfully impressed by the appearance and conduct of her mother. She had never before seen her so calm and resigned to those dreadful sufferings. She had heard her complain and murmur at her hard lot, and wonder why she should be thus sorely afflicted. She feared that some appalling event, which she dared not define and call by its name, was about to happen. She dared not think of the future, and she wondered that her mother could be so calm while she endured so much.
“Katy,” said Mrs. Redburn, after the long silence that followed the reading of the hymn, “I feel very weak and ill. Take my hand.”
“You are burning up with fever!” exclaimed Katy, as she clasped the hand, and felt the burning, throbbing brow of her mother.
“I am; but do not be alarmed, Katy. Can you be very calm?”
“I will try.”
“For I feel very sick, but I am very happy. I can almost believe that the triumph of faith has already begun in my soul. The world looks very dim to me.”
“Nay, mother, don’t say so.”
“I only mean that as heaven seems nearer, my hold upon earth is less strong. You must be very resolute, my child, for I feel as though the sands of life were fast ebbing out; and that in a few hours more I shall be `where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.’ If it were not for leaving you, Katy, I could wish to bid farewell to earth, and go up to my eternal home, even on this bright, beautiful Christmas day.”
“O mother!” sobbed Katy, unable any longer to restrain the expression of her emotion.
“Do not weep, my child; I may be mistaken; yet I feel as though God was about to end my sufferings on earth, and I am willing to go.”
“O, no, mother! It cannot be!” exclaimed Katy, gazing earnestly, through her tearful eyes, upon the pale but flushed cheek of the patient sufferer.
“I only wish to prepare you for the worst. I may get well; and for your sake, I have prayed that I may. And, Katy, I have never before felt prepared to leave this world, full of trial and sorrow as it has been for me. Whatever of woe, and want, and disappointment it has been my lot to confront, has been a blessing in disguise. I feel like a new creature. I feel reconciled to live or die, as God ordains.”
“Do not look on the dark side, mother,” sobbed Katy.
“Nay, child, I am looking on the bright side, “returned Mrs. Redburn, faintly “Everything looks bright to me now. Life looks bright, and I feel that I could be happy for many years with you, for you have been a good daughter. Death looks bright, for it is the portal of the temple eternal in the heavens, where is joy unspeakable. I am too weak to talk more, Katy; you may read me a chapter from the New Testament.”
The devoted daughter obeyed this request, and she had scarcely finished the chapter before the girls came for their candy. She was unwilling to leave her mother alone even for a minute; so she sent one of them over to request the attendance of Mrs. Howard, and the good woman took her place by the side of the sufferer.
Katy, scarcely conscious what she was doing –for her heart was with her mother,–supplied each girl with her stock of candy, and received the money for it.
“You need not come to-morrow,” she said to them, as they were departing.
“Not come!” exclaimed several. “What shall we do for candy?”
“We cannot make any now; my mother is very sick.”
“I get my living by selling candy,” said one of them. “I shan’t have anything to pay my board if I can’t sell candy.”
“Poor Mary! I am sorry for you.”
This girl was an orphan whose mother had recently died, and she had taken up the business of selling candy, which enabled her to pay fifty cents a week for her board, at the house of a poor widow. Katy knew her history, and felt very sad as she thought of her being deprived of the means of support.
“I don’t know what I shall do,” sighed Mary.
“I have to take care of my mother now, and shall not have time to make candy,” said Katy.
“Do you mean to give up for good?” asked one of them.
“I don’t know.”
This question suggested some painful reflections to Katy. If they stopped making candy, she and her mother, as well as orphan Mary, would be deprived of the means of support. She trembled as she thought of the future, even when she looked forward only a few weeks. There was not more than ten dollars in the house, for they had but a short time before paid for their winter’s coal, and at considerable expense largely replenished their wardrobes. The rent would be due in a week, and it would require more than half they had to pay it.
Katy was appalled as she thought of the low state of their purse, and dreaded lest some fearful calamity might again overtake them. It was plain to her that she could not give up her business, even for a week, without the danger of being again reduced to actual want. She therefore reversed her decision, and told the girls they might come as usual the next day.
When they had gone she shed a few bitter tears at the necessity which the circumstances imposed upon her of working while her heart revolted at the idea of being anywhere but at the bedside of her sick mother. Then she lamented that they had not dispensed with many articles of luxury while they had plenty of money, and saved more of it for such a sad time as the present. But it was of no use to repine; she had only to make the best of her situation.
Amid all these discouragements came a bright ray of sunshine–the brightest that could possibly have shone on the pathway of the weeping daughter.
Early in the forenoon came the physician who carefully examined his patient, speaking cheerfully and kindly to her all the while. The sufferer watched his expression very narrowly, as he bent over her and questioned her in regard to her pains. He looked very serious, which Mrs. Redburn interpreted as unfavorable to her recovery, not considering that he was engaged in profound thought, and therefore his countenance would naturally wear an earnest look. Presently she sent Katy to get her some drink, not because she wanted it, but to procure her absence for a short time.
“Do you think I shall get well?” asked Mrs. Redburn, as soon as the door closed behind Katy.
“A person who is very sick, is of course, always in danger, which may be more or less imminent,” replied the doctor, with professional indirectness.
“I beg of you, doctor, do not conceal from me my true situation.”
“I cannot foresee the result, my good woman.”
“Do you think there is any hope for me?”
“Certainly there is.”
“Tell me, I implore you, what you think of my case,” pleaded the sufferer, in feeble tones. “I felt this morning that my end was very near.”
“O, no; it is not so bad as that. I should say you had as many as five chances in ten to be on your feet in a fortnight.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do not regard your case as a critical one.”
“I wish you had told me so last night. It would have saved my poor child a very bitter pang.”
“I was not aware that you thought yourself alarmingly sick, or I certainly should; for such an opinion on your part would do more to bring about a fatal result than could be counteracted by the most skilful treatment. A physician does not hold the issues of life and death; he can only assist nature, as the patient may by a cheerful view of his case. This is not your old complaint; you have taken cold, and have considerable fever; but I think it is a very hopeful case.”
The return of Katy interrupted the conversation; but the doctor’s opinion was immediately imparted to her, and it sent a thrill of joy to her heart.
“I was low-spirited this morning, Katy,” said Mrs. Redburn, when the physician had gone. “I really felt as though my end was rapidly approaching. I am sorry I mentioned my thoughts to you.”
“It was all for the best, I suppose,” replied Katy.
But Mrs. Redburn was very sick; and even now the disease might have a fatal termination. The best of care would be required to restore her to health, and Katy was very anxious. Her mother was still suffering the most acute pain.
The doctor had left a prescription, and Katy was again obliged to call in Mrs. Howard while she went to the apothecary’s to procure it; but the good woman declared she was glad to come, and would bring her work and stay all the forenoon. The medicine, when obtained, to some extent relieved the sufferer’s pain.
As her presence was not required in the chamber, Katy went down-stairs to what she called the candy room. She had an hour or two to spare, and she put on the kettle with the intention of making a part of the next day’s candy. She was nearly worn out by watching and anxiety, and not fit to perform such hard work; but weak and weary as she felt, her spirit was still earnest, and she resolutely commenced her labors.
At noon she had made half the quantity required. Mrs. Howard was then obliged to go home, and attend to her own family, for she had two children besides Tommy, who had not yet returned from the East Indies. Mrs. Redburn was very restless during the afternoon, and could not be left alone for more than a short time at once. Mrs. Howard had promised to come again in the evening, and make the rest of the candy; but Charley came home from school quite sick, seemingly threatened with the scarlet fever, so that she could not keep her promise. Mrs. Sneed, however, dropped in, and consented to remain for two hours, which enabled Katy to make the rest of the candy.
By this time the poor girl was completely worn out. Her resolute will, even, could no longer impart its strength to the body. Her mother worried sadly about her, and finally induced her to lie down on the bed by her side, on condition that she should be awakened in an hour. In this manner she obtained a few hours’ sleep during the night; but these severe labors were a fearful task to be imposed upon a mere child.
The next day Mrs. Redburn, who could not fail to observe Katy’s pale face and sunken eye, fretted so much about her that she was obliged to promise she would not attempt to make any more candy. Mrs. Howard’s son was still very sick, so that she was unable to render much assistance. The rest of the neighbors, though kindly disposed, had their own families to care for, and could do very little for others.
With what slight aid her friends could afford, Katy struggled through a week, when Dr. Flynch appeared, and demanded the rent. There was but little more than money enough left to pay it, but Katy would not ask him for any indulgence, and paid him in full.
In a few days more the purse was empty. Katy’s most dreaded hour had come. She had no money, and almost every day some new thing was required for her mother. But this time she had friends, and she determined to use them, as all true friends wish to be used in the day of sorrow and trial. After considerable debate with herself, she decided to apply to Mrs. Gordon for a loan of twenty dollars. She was still poor and proud, and she could not endure the thought of asking a loan, which might be regarded as a gift, or which, by her own inability to pay it, might virtually become such; therefore she proposed to present her father’s silver watch as security for the payment of the debt.
CHAPTER XIX.
KATY RESORTS TO A LOAN.
Katy was not at all pleased with the mission which her duty seemed to impose upon her. Again she felt the crushing weight of poverty, and pride rose up to throw obstacles in her path. She was a child of twelve, and to ask a loan of twenty dollars, though she offered sufficient security for the payment of the debt, seemed like demanding a great deal of her friends–like inviting them to repose a vast amount of confidence in her ability and honesty. They would not want the watch; it would be of no value to them; and the more she considered the matter, the more like an act of charity appeared the favor she was about to ask.
More than once on her way to Temple Street did she stop short, resolved to get the money of some other person–the grocer, Mr. Sneed, or even of a pawnbroker; but as often she rebuked the pride that tormented her like a demon, and went forward again. She stood some time at Mrs. Gordon’s door before she had the resolution to ring the bell.
“What right have I to be so proud?” said she, grasping the bell handle. “I must get this money, or my mother may suffer.”
She rang with a force that must have astonished Michael, and led him to think some extraordinary character had arrived; for he ran to the door at full speed, and burst out into a violent fit of laughter, when he saw no one but the little candy merchant.
“Good morning, to you, Katy. Are you nervous this morning?” said he.
“Good morning, Michael. I am not very nervous.”
“I thought you would pull down the bell,” he added, good-naturedly.
“I didn’t mean to, Michael; I hope you will excuse me if I did any harm.”
“Not a bit of harm; but you’re looking as sober as a deacon. What ails you, Katy?”
“I feel very sad, Michael; for my mother is very sick, and I don’t know as she will ever get well.”
“Indeed? I’m sorry to hear that of her;” and Michael, whatever he felt, looked very much concerned about Mrs. Redburn’s health.
“Is Mrs. Gordon at home?”
“She isn’t.”
“Is Miss Grace?”
“Neither of them; they went to Baltimore ten days ago but I am expecting them back every day.”
Katy’s heart sank within her; for now that Mrs. Gordon was not at hand, she did not feel like asking any other person; and if the case had not been urgent, she would have been satisfied to return home, and regard the lady’s absence as a sufficient excuse for not procuring the money.
“You want to see her very much?” asked Michael.
“Very much, indeed.”
“Can I be of any service to you?”
“No, Michael.”
“Perhaps I can, Katy.”
“No, I’m much obliged to you.”
“If it’s anything in the house you want, I can get it for you.”
“No, I must see Mrs. Gordon.”
“If it’s any nice preserve or jelly you want just say the word, and I’ll bring it to you at once.”
“I do not want anything of that kind. Do you think Mrs. Gordon will return by to-morrow?”
“I thought she would be here yesterday, and she may come to-night.”
“Very well; I will, perhaps, call again to-morrow,” and she turned to leave.
“I’ll tell Mrs. Gordon you came. Stop a minute, Katy. Won’t you tell me what you want?”
“I would rather not, Michael; but I will come again to-morrow.”
“See here, Katy; maybe you’re short of money. If you are, I have a matter of three hundred dollars in the Savings Bank; and you may be sure you shall have every cent of it if you want it.”
This was a very liberal offer, though it is probable he did not think she would want any considerable portion of it, or that she could even comprehend the meaning of so large a sum. Katy was sorely tempted to negotiate with him for the loan but she was not sure that it would be proper to borrow money of the servant, and perhaps Mrs. Gordon would not like it.
“I thank you, Michael; you are very kind, but I think I would rather see Mrs. Gordon.”
“I have a matter of five or six dollars in my pocket now; and it that’ll be of any service to you, take it and welcome.”
Katy stopped to think. A few dollars would be all that she needed before the return of Mrs. Gordon; and yet she did not feel like accepting it. What would the lady say on her return, when told that she had borrowed money of her servant? Yet the servant had a kind heart, and really desired to serve her. Was it not pride that prevented her from accepting his offer? Did she not feel too proud to place herself under obligations to the servant? She felt rebuked at her presumption; for what right had she to make such distinctions? If she had been a lady, like Mrs. Gordon, she might have been excusable for cherishing such pride; but she was a poor girl; she was actually in want.
“Michael, you are so good, that I will tell you my story,” said she, conquering her repugnance.
“Just come in the house, then;” and he led her into the sitting-room; being, in the absence of the mistress, the lord and master of the mansion, and feeling quite at home in that position.
In a few words she explained to him her situation, though her rebellious pride caused her to paint the picture in somewhat brighter colors than the truth would justify. She stated her intention to borrow twenty dollars of Mrs. Gordon, and offer her the watch as security, at the same time exhibiting the cherished treasure.
“Now Michael, if you will lend me three dollars till Mrs. Gordon returns, I will pay you then, for I know she will let me have the money; or at least let me have enough to pay you,” continued she, when she had finished her narrative.
“Indeed I will, Katy!” exclaimed he, promptly pulling out his wallet. “And if you will come at this time to-morrow, you shall have the whole twenty dollars.”
“Thank you, Michael.”
“There’s six dollars; take it, Katy, and my blessing with it.”
“Only three dollars, Michael,” replied Katy, firmly.
Michael insisted, but all his persuasion would not induce her to accept more than the sum she had mentioned, and he was reluctantly compelled to yield the point.
“Here is the watch, Michael; you shall keep that till I pay you.”
“Is it me!” exclaimed he, springing to his feet, with an expression very like indignation on his countenance. “Sure, you don’t think I’d take the watch.”
“Why not you as well as Mrs. Gordon?” asked Katy.
“She didn’t take it,” replied Michael triumphantly. “You couldn’t make her take it, if you try a month. Don’t I know Mrs. Gordon?”
“But please to take it; I should feel much better if you would.”
“Bad luck to me if I do! I wouldn’t take it to save my neck from the gallows. Where’s my Irish heart? Did I leave it at home, or did I bring it with me to America?”
“If you will not take it, Michael—-
“I won’t.”
“If you won’t, I will say no more about it,” replied Katy, as she returned the watch to her pocket. “You have got a very kind heart, and I shall never forget you as long as I live.”
Katy, after glancing at the portrait of the roguish lady that hung in the room, took leave of Michael, and hastened home. On her way, she could not banish the generous servant from her mind. She could not understand why he should be so much interested in her as to offer the use of all he had; and she was obliged to attribute it all to the impulses of a kind heart. If she had been a little older, she might have concluded that the old maxim, slightly altered would explain the reason: “Like mistress, like man,” that the atmosphere of kindness and charity that pervaded the house had inspired even the servants.
“Where have you been, Katy?” asked Mrs. Redburn, as she entered the sick chamber, and Mrs. Sneed hastened home.
“I have been to Mrs. Gordon.”
“What for?”
Katy did not like to tell. She knew it would make her mother feel very unhappy to know that she had borrowed money of Mrs. Gordon’s servant.
“Oh, I went up to see her,” replied Katy.
“No matter, if you don’t like to tell me,” faintly replied Mrs. Redburn.
“I will tell you, mother,” answered Katy, stung by the gentle rebuke contained in her mother’s words.
“I suppose our money is all gone,” sighed the sick woman.
“No, mother; see here! I have three dollars,” and Katy pulled out her porte-monnaie, anxious to save her even a moment of uneasiness.
But in taking out the money she exhibited the watch also, which at once excited Mrs. Redburn’s curiosity.
“What have you been doing with that, Katy?” she asked. “Ah, I fear I was right. We have no money! Our business is gone! Alas, we have nothing to hope for!”
“O, no, mother, it is not half so bad as that!” exclaimed Katy. “I went up to Mrs. Gordon for the purpose of borrowing twenty dollars of her; I didn’t want it to look like charity, so I was going to ask her to keep the watch till it was paid. That’s all, mother.”
“And she refused?”
“No; she was not at home.”
“But your money is not all gone?”
Katy wanted to say it was not, but her conscience would not let her practise deception. She had the three dollars which she had just borrowed of Michael, and that was not all gone. But this was not the question her mother asked, and it would be a lie to say the money was not all gone, when she fully understood the meaning of the question. Perhaps it was for her mother’s good to deceive her; but she had been taught to feel that she had no right to do evil that good might follow.
“It was all gone, but I borrowed three dollars,” she replied, after a little hesitation.
“Of whom?”
“Of Michael.”
“Who’s he?”
“Mrs. Gordon’s man.
“O Katy! How could you do so?” sighed Mrs. Redburn.
“I couldn’t help it, mother. He would make me take it;” and she gave all the particulars of her interview with Michael and reviewed the considerations which had induced her to accept the loan.
“Perhaps you are right, Katy. My pride would not have let me borrow of a servant; but it is wicked for me to cherish such a pride. I try very hard to banish it.”
“Don’t talk any more now, mother. We are too poor to be too proud to accept a favor of one who is in a humble station.” replied Katy.
“I don’t know what will become of us,” said Mrs. Redburn, as she turned her head away to hide the tears that flooded her eyes.
Katy took up the Bible that lay by the bedside, and turning to the twenty-third psalm, she read, “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.”
“Go on, Katy; those words are real comfort,” said Mrs. Redburn, drying her tears. “I know it is wicked for me to repine.”
Katy read the whole psalm, and followed it with others, which produced a healing influence upon her mother’s mind, and she seemed to forget that the purse was empty, and that they had placed themselves under obligations to a servant.
The sufferer rested much better than usual that night, and Katy was permitted to sleep the greater part of the time–a boon which her exhausted frame very much needed. About ten o’clock in the forenoon, Michael paid her a visit, to inform her that Mrs. Gordon had just arrived: and that, when he mentioned her case, she had sent him down to request her immediate attendance and that his mistress would have come herself, only she was so much fatigued by her journey.
Katy could not leave then, for she had no one to stay with her mother; but Mrs. Sneed could come in an hour. Michael hastened home with the intelligence that Mrs. Redburn was better, and Katy soon followed him.
CHAPTER XX.
MRS. GORDON FEELS FAINT, AND KATY ENTERS A NEW SPHERE.
On her arrival at Temple Street, Katy was promptly admitted by Michael, and shown in the sitting-room, where Mrs. Gordon and Grace were waiting for her.
“I was very sorry to hear that your mother is sick, Katy,” said the former; “and I should have paid you a visit, instead of sending for you, if I had not been so much exhausted by my journey from Baltimore.”
“You are very kind, ma’am.”
“Did Dr. Flynch call upon you at the first of the month?”
“Yes, ma’am; and we paid the rent as usual,” replied Katy.
“I am sorry you did so, Katy; you should have told him you were not in a condition to pay the rent.”
“I couldn’t tell him so, he is so cold and cruel.”
“I think you misjudge him, for he has a really kind heart, and would not have distressed you for all the world. Besides, I told him he need not collect your rent any time when you did not feel ready to pay it. I hope he gave you no trouble?”
“No, ma’am; I didn’t give him a chance, for I paid him as soon as he demanded it; though it took nearly all the money we had. I hope you will excuse me, ma’am, but I haven’t liked him since the trouble we had a year ago, when he accused my dear mother of telling a lie.”
“Perhaps he was hasty.”
“I forgive him, ma’am; but I can’t help thinking he is a very wicked man,” answered Katy, with considerable emphasis.
“I hope not so bad as that; for I am sure, if you had told him it was not convenient for you to pay the rent, he would not have insisted. But you want some assistance Katy?”
“Yes, ma’am; that is, I want to borrow some money,” replied Katy, blushing deeply.
“That’s just like you,” interposed Grace, laughing. “I suppose you will want to give your note this time.”
“I don’t care about giving a note, but I mean to pay the money back again, every cent of it.”
“And the interest too, I suppose?”
“Yes,” said Katy, though she had not a very clear idea of the value of money, as an article of merchandise.
“Don’t distress her, Grace; you forget that her mother is very sick, and she cannot feel like listening to your pleasantries,” said Mrs. Gordon.
“Forgive me, Katy,” replied Grace, tenderly.
Katy burst into tears, though she could not exactly tell why. She was overcome with emotion as the beautiful young lady took her hand, and looked so sorrowfully in her face. She was not used to so much kindness, so much sympathy, so much love; for it seemed as though both Grace and her mother loved her–that their hearts beat with hers.
“Don t cry, Katy; I am sorry I said a word,” pleaded Grace. “I would not have hurt your feelings for all the world.”
“You did not hurt my feelings; you are so kind to me that I could not help crying. I suppose I am very silly.”
“No, you are not, Katy; now dry up your tears, and tell us all about it,” added Mrs. Gordon, in soothing tones. “How long has your mother been sick?”
“Almost two weeks.”
“What ails her?”
“She has got a fever; but she is much better to-day. The doctor says she hasn’t got it very bad; but she has been very sick, I think.”
“Who takes care of her?”
“I do, ma’am.”
“You! She must need a great deal of attention. But who takes care of her at night?”
“I do, ma’am. I have been up a great deal every night.”
“Poor child! It is enough to wear you out.”
“I wouldn’t mind it at all, if I had nothing else to trouble me.”
“What other troubles have you?”
“I can’t make any candy now, and haven’t made any for nearly a fortnight; so that we have no money coming in. We spent nearly all we had in buying our winter clothing and fuel. It worries me very much, for we had plenty of money before mother was taken sick.”
“I hope you haven’t wanted for anything.”
“No, ma’am; for when my purse was empty, I came up here, only yesterday, to borrow some of you, if you would please to lend it me.”
“Certainly, I will, my child. I am very glad you came.”
“Michael would make me tell what I wanted, and then he let me have three dollars, and offered to let me have as much as I wanted. I didn’t know as you would like it if I borrowed money of your servant.”
“You did just right: and I am glad that Michael has a kind heart. Now, how much money do you want?”
“I thought I would ask you to lend me twenty dollars; and just as soon, after mother gets well, as I can gather the money together, I will pay you–and the interest,” she added, glancing at Grace.
“Now, Katy, that is too bad!” exclaimed Grace, catching her by the hand, while a tear started from her eye. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“I know you didn’t; but I don’t know much about such things, and thought likely it was right for us to pay interest, if we borrowed money.”
“I should be very glad to give you twenty dollars, Katy, if you would only let me; for I am rich, as well as mother, and I certainly should not think of taking interest.”
“We will say no more about that,” interrupted Mrs. Gordon. “I will let you have the money with the greatest pleasure, for I know you will make good use of it.”
“I will, indeed.”
“And you must promise me that you will not distress yourself to pay it again,” continued the kind lady, as she took out her purse.
“I will not distress myself, but I will pay it as soon as I can.”
“You must not be too proud.”
“No, ma’am; but just proud enough.”