Poor and Proud, or The Fortunes of Katy Redburn
by
Oliver Optic
Part 3 out of 4
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."
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