BRIGHTENING PROSPECTS.
This was altogether a new experience to Willie, and a very trying one.
But he bore it bravely; kept all his worst struggles from his anxious
mother and desponding grandfather, and resolved to hope against hope.
Gerty was now his chief comforter. He told her all his troubles, and,
young as she was, she was a wonderful consoler. Always looking on the
bright side, she did much towards keeping up his hopes and strengthening
his resolutions. She knew more than most children of the various ways,
in which she sometimes made valuable suggestions to Willie, of which he
gladly availed himself. Among others, she one day asked him if he had
applied at the agency offices. He had never thought of it--wondered he
had not, but would try. He did so, and for a time was buoyed up with
hopes held out to him; but they proved fleeting, and he was now almost
in despair, when his eye fell upon an advertisement in a newspaper,
which seemed to afford another chance. He showed it to Gerty. It was
just the thing.
Gerty was so sanguine, that Willie presented himself the next day at the
place specified with a more eager countenance than he had ever yet worn.
The gentleman talked with him some time; asked a great many questions,
hinted his doubts about his capability, and finally declared he was not
eligible. He returned with such a heavy heart that he could not meet his
mother, and so he went to True's room. It was the night before
Christmas. True had gone out, and Gerty was alone. She was preparing a
cake for tea--one of the few branches of the cooking department in which
she had acquired some skill. She was just coming from the pantry, with a
scoop-full of meal in her hand, when Willie entered. He tossed his cap
upon the settle, and leaned his head upon his hands, and this betrayed
the defeat the poor boy had met with. It was so unlike Willie to come in
without speaking--it was such a strange thing to see his bright young
head bowed down with care, and his elastic figure looking tired and old,
that Gerty knew at once his brave heart had given way. She laid down the
scoop, and walking up to him, touched his arm with her hand, and looked
up anxiously into his face. Her sympathetic look was more than he could
bear. He laid his head on the table, and in a minute more Gerty heard
great heavy sobs, each one of which sank deep into her soul. She often
cried herself--it seemed only natural; but Willie--the laughing, happy,
light-hearted Willie--she had never seen _him_ cry; she didn't know he
_could_. She crept up on the rounds of his chair, and putting her arm
round his neck, whispered, "I shouldn't mind, Willie, if I didn't get
the place; I don't believe it's a _good_ place."
"I don't believe it is, either," said Willie, lifting up his head; "but
what shall I do? I can't get any place, and I can't stay here doing
nothing."
"We like to have you at home," said Gerty.
"It's pleasant enough to be at home. I was always glad enough to come
when I lived at Mr. Bray's and was earning something, and could feel as
if anybody was glad to see me."
"_Everybody_ is glad to see you _now_."
"But not as they were _then_," said Willie; "mother always looks as if
she expected to hear I'd got something to do; and grandfather, I
believe, never thought I should be good for much; and now, as I was
beginning to earn something, and be a help to them, I've lost my
chance!"
"But that an't your fault, Willie; you couldn't help Mr. Bray's dying. I
shouldn't think Mr. Cooper would blame you for not having anything to do
_now_."
"He don't _blame_ me; but if you were in my place you'd feel just as I
do, to see him sit in his arm-chair in the evening, and groan and look
up at me, as much as to say, 'It's _you_ I'm groaning about.'"
"Have heart," said Gerty; "I think you'll be rich, some time--and _then_
won't he be astonished!"
"Oh, Gerty! you're a nice child, and I think I can do anything. If ever
I am rich, I promise to go shares with you; but 'tan't so easy. I used
to think I could make money when I grew up; but it's pretty slow
business."
Here he was on the point of leaning down upon the table again, and
giving himself up to melancholy; but Gerty caught hold of his hands.
"Come," said she, "Willie, don't think any more about it. People have
troubles always, but they get over 'em; perhaps next week you'll be in a
better shop than Mr. Bray's, and we shall be as happy as ever. Do you
know," said she, changing the subject, "it's just two years to-night
since I came here?"
"Is it?" said Willie. "Did Uncle True bring you home with him the night
before Christmas?"
"Yes."
"Why, that was Santa Claus carrying you to good things, instead of
bringing good things to you, wasn't it?"
Gerty did not know anything about Santa Claus, that special friend of
children; and Willie, who had only lately read about him in some book,
undertook to tell her what he knew of the veteran toy-dealer. Finding
the interest of the subject had engaged his thoughts, Gerty returned to
her cooking, listening attentively to his story. When he had finished,
she was kneeling by the stove; her eyes twinkled with such a merry look,
that Willie exclaimed, "What are you thinking of, Gerty, that makes you
look so sly?"
"I was thinking that perhaps Santa Clans would come for you to-night. If
he comes for folks that need something, I expect he'll come for you, and
carry you to some place where you'll have a chance to grow rich."
"Very likely," said Willie; "he'll clap me into his bag and trudge off
with me as a present to somebody--some old Cr[oe]sus, that will give me
a fortune for the asking. I do hope he will; for, if I don't get
something to do soon, I shall despair."
True now came in, and interrupted the conversation by the display of a
fine turkey, a Christmas present from Mr. Graham. He had also a book for
Gerty, a gift from Emily.
"Isn't that queer," exclaimed Gerty. "Willie was just saying you were my
Santa Clans, Uncle True; and I do believe you are." As she spoke she
opened the book, and in the frontispiece was a portrait of that
individual. "It looks like him, Willie, I declare it does!" shouted she;
"a fur cap, a pipe, and just such a pleasant face; oh, Uncle True, if
you only had a sack full of toys over your shoulder, instead of your
lantern and that great turkey, you would be a complete Santa Claus.
Haven't you got anything for Willie, Uncle True?"
"Yes, I've got a little something; but I'm afeared he won't think much
on't. It's only a bit of a note."
"A note for me?" inquired Willie. "Who can it be from?"
"Can't say," said True, fumbling in his pockets; "only just round the
corner I met a man who stopped me to inquire where Mrs. Sullivan lived.
I told him she lived jist here, and I'd show him the house. When he saw
I lived here too, he gave me this little scrap o' paper, and asked me to
hand it to Master William Sullivan. I s'pose that's you, an't it?" He
handed Willie the slip of paper; and the boy, taking True's lantern in
his hand, and holding the note up to the light, read aloud:--"R. H.
Clinton would like to see William Sullivan on Thursday morning, between
ten and eleven o'clock, at No. 13 ---- Wharf."
Willie looked up in amazement. "What does it mean?"? said he; "I don't
know any such person."
"I know who he is," said True; "why, it's he that lives in the great
stone house in ---- street. He's a rich man, and that's the number of
his store--his counting-room rather--on ---- Wharf!"
"What! father to those pretty children we used to see in the window?"
"The very same."
"What can he want of me?"
"Very likely he wants your sarvices," suggested True.
"Then it's a place!" cried Gerty, "a real good one, and Santa Claus came
and brought it: I said he would! Oh, Willie, I'm so glad!"
Willie did not know whether to be glad or not. He could not but hope, as
Gerty and True did, that it might prove the dawning of some good
fortune; but he had reasons for believing that no offer from this
quarter could be available to him, and therefore made them both promise
to give no hint of the matter to his mother or Mr. Cooper.
On Thursday Willie presented himself at the appointed time and place.
Mr. Clinton, a gentlemanly man, received him kindly, asked but few
questions, and telling him that he was in want of a young man to fill
the place of junior clerk in his counting-room, offered him the
situation. Willie hesitated; for, though the offer was most encouraging,
Mr. Clinton made no mention of any salary; and that was a thing the
youth could not dispense with. Seeing that he was undecided, Mr. Clinton
said, "Perhaps you do not like my proposal, or have made some other
engagement?"
"No, indeed," answered Willie, quickly. "You are very kind to feel so
much confidence in a stranger as to be willing to receive me, and your
offer is a most welcome one; but I have been in a retail store, where I
obtained regular earnings, which were very important to my mother and
grandfather. I had far rather be in a counting-room like yours, sir, and
I think I might learn to be of use; but I think there are numbers of
boys, sons of rich men, who would be glad to be employed by you, and
would ask no compensation for their services, so that I could not expect
any salary, at least for some years. I should indeed, be well repaid, at
the end of that time, by the knowledge I might gain of mercantile
affairs; but, unfortunately, sir, I can no more afford it than I could
afford to go to college."
The gentleman smiled. "How did you know so much of these matters, my
young friend?"
"I have heard, sir, from boys who were at school with me, and are now
clerks in mercantile houses, that they received no pay, and I always
considered it a perfectly fair arrangement; but it was the reason why I
felt bound to content myself with the position I held in an apothecary's
shop, which, though it was not suited to my taste, enabled me to support
myself, and to relieve my mother, who is a widow, and my grandfather,
who is old and poor."
"Your grandfather is----"
"Mr. Cooper, sexton of Mr. Arnold's church."
"Aha!" said Mr. Clinton, "I know him. What you say, William, is true. We
do not pay any salary to our young clerks, and are overrun with
applications at that rate; but I have heard good accounts of you, my boy
(I shan't tell you where I had my information, though I see you look
very curious), and, moreover, I like your countenance, and believe you
will serve me faithfully. So, if you will tell me what you received from
Mr. Bray, I will pay you the same next year, and after that increase
your salary, if I find you deserve it; and you may commence with me on
the first of January."
Willie thanked Mr. Clinton and departed. The merchant was reminded of
the time when he too, the only son of his mother, and she a widow, had
come alone to the city, sought long for employment, and finding it at
last, had sat down to write and tell her how he hoped soon to earn
enough for himself and her. And the spirits of those mothers who have
wept, prayed, and thanked God over similar communications from
much-loved sons, may know how to sympathise with good Mrs. Sullivan,
when she heard from Willie the joyful tidings. True exclaimed, "Ah!
Master Willie, they needn't have worried about yon, need they? I've told
your grandfather more than once, that I was of the 'pinion 'twould all
come out right at last."