KATY MEETS WITH EXTRAORDINARY SUCCESS.
"Buy some candy?" said Katy to the first gentleman she met.
He did not even deign to glance at her; and five or six attempts to
sell a stick of candy were failures; but when she remembered the
success that had followed her disappointment in the morning, she did
not lose her courage. Finding that people in the street would not buy,
she entered a shop where the clerks seemed to be at leisure, though she
did not do so without thinking of the rude manner in which she had been
ejected from a store in the forenoon.
"Buy some candy?" said she to a good-natured young gentleman, who was
leaning over his counter waiting for a customer.
"How do you sell it?"
"Cent a stick; it is very nice. I sold fourteen sticks of it to the
mayor this forenoon. He said it was good."
"You don't say so? Did he give you a testimonial?"
"No; he gave me half a dollar."
The clerk laughed heartily at Katy's misapprehension of his word, and
his eye twinkled with mischief. It was plain that he was not a great
admirer of molasses candy, and that he only wanted to amuse himself at
Katy's expense.
"You know what they do with quack medicines--don't you?"
"Yes, I do; some folks are fools enough to take them," replied Katy,
smartly.
"That's a fact; but you don't understand me. Dr. Swindlehanger, round
the corner, would give the mayor a hundred dollars to say his patent
elixir is good. Now, if you could only get the mayor's name on a paper
setting forth the virtues of your candy, I dare say you could sell a
thousand sticks in a day. Why don't you ask him for such a paper?"
"I don't want any paper, except to wrap up my candy in. But you don't
want to buy any candy, I see;" and Katy moved towards some more clerks
at the other end of the store.
"Yes, I do; stop a minute. I want to buy six sticks for my children!"
"For what?"
"For my grandchildren."
"You are making fun of me," said Katy, who could see this, though the
young man was so pleasant and so funny, she could not be offended with
him. "I don't believe your mother would like it, if she should hear you
tell such a monstrous story."
The young man bit his lip. Perhaps he had a kind mother who had taught
him never to tell a lie, even in jest. He quickly recovered his humor,
however, though it was evident that Katy's rebuke had not been without
its effect.
"For how much will you sell me six sticks?" continued the clerk.
"For six cents."
"But that is the retail price; when you sell goods at wholesale you
ought not to ask so much for them."
"You shall have them for five cents then," replied Katy, struck with
the force of the suggestion.
"I can't afford to give so much as that. I am a poor man. I have to go
to the theater twice a week, and that costs me a dollar. Then a ride
Sunday afternoon costs me three dollars. So you see I don't have much
money to spend upon luxuries."
"I hope you don't go out to ride Sundays," said Katy.
"But I do."
"What does your mother say to it?"
The clerk bit his lip again. He did not like these allusions to his
mother, who perhaps lived far away in the country, and had taught him
to "remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy." Very likely his
conscience smote him, as he thought of her and her blessed teachings in
the far-off home of his childhood.
"I will give you two cents," said the clerk.
"I can't take that; it would hardly pay for the molasses, to say
nothing of firewood and labor."
"Call it three cents, then."
"No, sir; the wholesale price is five cents for six sticks."
"But I am poor."
"You wouldn't be poor if you saved up your money, and kept the Sabbath.
Your mother----"
"There, there! that's enough. I will take a dozen sticks!" exclaimed
the young man, impatiently interrupting her.
"A dozen?"
"Yes, a dozen, and there are twelve cents."
"But I only ask ten."
"No matter, give me the candy, and take the money," he replied,
fearful, it may be, that she would again allude to his mother.
Katy counted out the sticks, wrapped them up in a paper, and put the
money in her pocket. If she had stopped at the door to study the young
man's face, she might have detected a shadow of uneasiness and anxiety
upon it. He was a very good-hearted, but rather dissolute, young man,
and the allusions she had made to his mother burned like fire in his
heart, for he had neglected her counsels, and wandered from the
straight road in which she had taught him to walk. If she could have
followed him home, and into the solitude of his chamber, she could have
seen him open his desk, and write a long letter to his distant
mother--a duty he had too long neglected. We may not follow the
fortunes of this young man, but if we could, we might see how a few
words, fitly spoken, even by the lips of an innocent youth; will
sometimes produce a powerful impression on the character; will
sometimes change the whole current of a life, and reach forward to the
last day of existence.
Katy, all unconscious of the great work she had done, congratulated
herself on this success, and wished she might find a few more such
customers. Glancing into the shop windows as she passed along, to
ascertain whether there was a good prospect for her, she soon found an
inviting field. It was a crockery ware store that she entered this
time, and there were several persons there who seemed not to be very
busy.
"Buy some candy?" said she, presenting the tray to the first person she
met.
"Go home and wash your face," was the ill-natured response.
Was it possible she had come out with a dirty face? No; she had washed
herself the last thing she had done. It is true her clothes were
shabby, there was many a patch and darn upon her dress, and its colors
had faded out like the "last rose of summer;" but then the dress was
clean.
"Buy some candy?" said she to another, with a sudden resolution not to
be disturbed by the rudeness of those she addressed.
He took a stick, and threw down a cent, without a word. One more did
her a similar favor, and she left the store well satisfied with the
visit. Pretty soon she came to a large piano-forte manufactory, where
she knew that a great many men were employed. She went up-stairs to the
counting-room, where she sold three sticks, and was about to enter the
work-room, when a sign, "No admittance except on business," confronted
her. Should she go on? Did the sign refer to her? She had business
there, but perhaps they would not be willing to admit that her business
was very urgent, and she dreaded the indignity of being turned out
again. Her mother had told her there was always a right way and a wrong
way. It certainly was not right to enter in the face of a positive
prohibition, and at last she decided to return to the office and ask
permission to visit the workshop.
"Please may I go into the workshop?" said she, addressing the man who
had purchased the candy.
"Go in? why not?" replied he, placing his pen behind his ear, and
looking at her with a smile of curiosity.
"Why, it says on the door, 'No admittance except on business.'"
"So it does. Well, I declare, you have got an amount of conscience
beyond your station. No one thinks of taking any notice of that sign.
Peddlers and apple men go in without a question."
"I thought you wouldn't let people go in."
"We don't like to have visitors there, for they sometimes do injury,
and generally take off the attention of the men from their work. But
you have got so much conscience about the matter, that you shall not
only go in, but I will go with you, and introduce you."
"Thank you, sir; I won't give you all that trouble. I can introduce
myself."
But the bookkeeper led the way to the door, and they entered a large
room in which a great many men were busily at work.
"Here is a very honest little girl," said her friend, "who has the very
best molasses candy I ever ate. If any of you have a sweet tooth, or
any children at home, I advise you to patronize her."
The bookkeeper laughed, and the workmen laughed, as they began to feel
in their pockets for loose change. It was evident that the friendly
introduction was to be of great service to her. She passed along from
one man to another, and almost every one of them bought two or three
sticks of candy, and before she had been to all of them her stock was
entirely exhausted. Katy was astonished at her good fortune, and the
men were all exceedingly good-natured. They seemed disposed to make a
pleasant thing of her visit, and to give her a substantial benefit.
"Now, my little girl," said the bookkeeper, "when you wish to visit the
workshop again, you may enter without further permission; and I am sure
the men will all be very glad to see you."
"But I want some of that candy," said one of the workmen. "My little
girl would jump to get a stick."
"Then she shall have some," replied Katy, "for I will go home and get
some more;" and she left the building and hastened home for a further
supply of the popular merchandise.
"O mother! I have sold out all my candy, and I want a lot more!"
exclaimed she, as she rushed into the room, full of excitement and
enthusiasm.
"Be calm, child; you will throw yourself into a fever," replied Mrs.
Redburn. "You must learn to take things more easily."
"O dear! I have only twenty sticks left. I wish I had a hundred, for I
am sure I could sell them."
"Perhaps it is fortunate you have no more."
"But I must make some more to-night for to-morrow."
"Don't drive round so, Katy. Be reasonable, and don't think too much of
your success."
But Katy could not stop to argue the matter, though, as she walked
along the street, she thought of what her mother had said, and tried to
calm the excitement that agitated her. It was hard work to keep from
running every step of the way; but her mother's advice must be heeded,
and to some extent she succeeded in controlling her violent impulses.
As it was, she reached the piano-forte manufactory quite out of breath,
and rushed into the workroom as though she had come on an errand of
vital importance to its occupants.
It required but a few minutes to dispose of her small stock of candy.
The workmen all hoped she would come again, and she departed highly
elated at her success.
"There, mother, I have sold all the candy. What do you think of that?"
said she, as she entered her mother's room, and threw off her bonnet
and shawl.
"You have done very well, I had no idea that you could sell more than
twenty or thirty sticks in a day."
"It's a great day's work, mother; and if I can sell half as much in a
day, I shall be satisfied. Don't you think I shall be able to support
you?"
"At this rate you can do much more; but, Katy, I tremble for you."
"Why, mother?"
"You get so excited, and run so, I am afraid it will make you sick."
"O, no, it won't, mother. I feel as strong as a horse. I am not tired
in the least."
"You don't feel so now, because you are so excited by your success."
"I shall get used to it in a little while."
"I hope so, if you mean to follow this business."
"If I mean to? Why mother, what else could I do to make so much money?
See here;" and she poured the money she had taken upon the bed-quilt
before her mother. "One dollar and thirty-six cents, mother! Only think
of it! But I won't jump so another day; I will take it easy."
"I wish you would."
"I will try very hard; but you can't think how happy I feel! Dear me! I
am wasting my time, when I have to make the candy for to-morrow."
"But, Katy, you must not do any more to-night. You will certainly be
sick."
"I must make it, mother."
"Your hands are very sore now."
"They are better; and I don't feel tired a bit."
"I will tell you what you may do, if you must make the candy to-night.
When you have got the molasses boiled, you may ask Mrs. Colvin, the
washerwoman, to come in and pull it for you; for you are not strong
enough to do it yourself."
"I should not like to ask her. She's a poor woman, and it would be just
the same as begging to ask her to give me her work."
"You don't understand me, Katy. She goes out to work whenever she can
get a chance. Her price is ten cents an hour. You can engage her for
one or two hours, and pay her for her labor. This is the only way you
can get along with this business."
"I will do that. It won't take more than an hour."
Mrs. Colvin was accordingly engaged, though at first she positively
refused to be paid for her services; but when Katy told her she should
want her for one or two hours every day, she consented to the
arrangement. Early in the evening the candy was all made, and Katy's
day's work was finished. Notwithstanding her repeated declaration that
she was not tired, the bed "felt good" to her, and she slept all the
more soundly for the hard work and the good deeds she had done.