HERBERT'S TRIAL.
"Stand by your conscience, your honour, your faith."
IT was a gala day in Westville. The people had gathered in crowds to
attend the county fair. From "up the creek" and down the valley, from
over the ridge and far up the mountain, from every nook and corner for
miles around, they came in waggon-loads and car-loads. Fathers and
mothers with troops of children came in family carry-alls; young men
and maidens in carriages "just big enough for two," all out for a day's
pleasuring.
To some of them, it was the one holiday of the year, to which they had
looked forward for months. Many had brought the savings of the summer
to spend in necessities or finery. Westville was full to overflowing.
The fair grounds were full, the streets were full, the hotels and
stores were full.
The speaker of the day announced to the few of the great crowd who
could catch the words of wisdom which he poured out for a whole hour,
that the "show was a success." And no doubt it was. Surely all the
requisites were there—the products of farm and dairy, of orchard and
garden, big squashes and overgrown pumpkins, golden butter and creamy
cheese, luscious fruits and rare flowers, tidies and bed-quilts, wax
fruit and feather flowers, the beautiful and the grotesque, marvels
of skill, ingenuity, and patience. All trades and professions were
represented; all grades of animals, from the high-bred pride of the
dairy to the pet bantam chickens.
The balloon went up and out of sight of the wondering and admiring
crowd. The "side shows," the steel-pen man, and the patent-rights
man, and the ginger-bread and pop-corn boys, had each their share of
patronage, and the merchants shared largely in the benefits of the
occasion. Every clerk was at his post, with eyes and ears for half a
dozen customers at once.
A showily and not very tastefully dressed girl stood at one of the
counters in Mr. Wynn's store, looking over a box of nets for the hair.
"Are these the newest fashion?" she asked, holding up one of gay
chenille, studded with glittering white beads.
Herbert Bradford was behind the counter, and he answered, frankly—
"No; these are not worn now. Very plain ones like this are the most
stylish," and he held up a bit of fine netting that you might pack into
a thimble. "But," he added, "we sell those very cheap if you like them."
"Oh, no!" quickly rejoined the girl. "If they are out of fashion, I am
sure I don't want one, though the red one is powerful pretty," and she
looked at it longingly; "but I want all my things right in the fashion."
Then she asked for other goods, and Herbert showed her the best styles,
as he would, had it been Miss Mabel herself. Mr. Wynn was at the next
counter, and watched the proceedings with disapproving glances. Finally
dress silks were called for, and Herbert was about to open a drawer of
new goods, when Mr. Wynn interfered.
"Excuse me, Herbert, but will you run up to the fourth story and tell
Jenks to hasten, for customers are waiting? I will take your place
while you are gone."
Herbert returned in time to hear his employer assuring the girl that
the gay plaid silk which he had brought up from the depths of a drawer
of old goods was "one of the most stylish patterns, very desirable, his
own daughter had a dress nearly like it," (he should have added, "ten
years ago"), "just the colours she ought to wear," and more of the same
sort.
Herbert was astonished at what he heard, and more so when, after the
customer had left with her gay dress-pattern, Mr. Wynn turned to him
and said—
"Now, Herbert, when a customer like that comes in, it is the time to
get off old goods. Those people that come from up the mountain know
nothing about the styles, and we always depend upon selling our old
stock out to that class of customers. That chenille net would have
pleased the girl better and wore longer than the one she bought, and
she would have taken it, if you had not been silly enough to tell her
nobody wore them now."
"But she asked me if they were fashionable," said Herbert.
"Of course she did," returned Mr. Wynn. "They always ask such
questions, and part of your business is to know how to answer them. We
always have a great many of that class here upon holidays, and if you
are shrewd, you may make large sales of goods desirable to be disposed
of, and which will satisfy them quite as well as goods that are more
constantly called for. You need not look so grave about it. Don't you
see that we can sell these goods for less money, and often suit their
tastes far better. And if they are satisfied, what is there wrong about
it?"
Herbert made no reply, but the thought in his mind was, "I can't do it.
I can't say a thing is so when it isn't."
A few days later, a similar circumstance occurred. Mr. Wynn was much
displeased, and said, "I cannot allow this. If I have occasion to speak
of the matter again, I shall feel obliged to ask your father to take
you away."
Herbert had thought over the subject and prayed over it, and made his
decision. "Mr. Wynn," he said, "I am sorry to displease you, but I
think the only right way for me to do is to speak the truth, and I must
do it, if I say anything."
Mr. Wynn was angry, but he was always calm and dignified; he said,
quietly, "Very well; call things by whatever name you please. Your
father placed you here to learn the business, but if you already know
so much more than I do about the proper mode of conducting it, there is
no necessity of your remaining here any longer. You are free to go at
once. I will see your father this evening."
Poor Herbert! Discharged! Disgraced! He had not anticipated quite that.
In resolving to do right, he had expected that God would stand by him
and reward him for his faithfulness to the truth. He had asked God
to show him the right way and to keep him from all evil as he walked
therein. He had looked for deliverance in the hour of trial. Had God
failed to hear?
He, too, had yet to learn something of God's ways of answering prayer.
Mr. Bradford's office was two or three doors down the street from the
store, and Herbert went at once to his father with his story, telling
it in a straightforward style, without a word of exaggeration or blame.
"Father, did I do right?" he asked.
Mr. Bradford hesitated. He was called an honest man; he called himself
a Christian, and though less worldly-minded than Mr. Wynn, he had not
Herbert's ardent love of truth, but he could not look in his boy's
face and say that he preferred to have him retain his position at
the expense of falsehood and trickery. When he spoke, it was with an
embarrassed laugh.
"Well, Herbert, your idea about it is well enough, I suppose, but if
I were a poor man, and you were depending upon your position for your
bread, I should say you were rather over-nice. You will have trouble to
find another place after being turned away from the largest store in
town."
"I don't know as I want another place; I don't care about learning the
business, if lying belongs to it," said Herbert, with some excitement.
"Tut! Tut! Boy, you mustn't be squeamish. There is considerable in
the art of putting things." After a pause, he continued, "You know,
Herbert, that I am not anxious about the matter. It was your own
choice; I should much prefer to have you come into the office here."
As for Mr. Wynn, he was more disturbed by the event than he cared
to own. He had been pleased with Herbert in most respects, and had
resolved upon promoting him as fast as practicable, with a view to
giving him a permanent position in the store.
"Queer, isn't it, that a fellow would spoil his prospects by such a bit
of nonsense?" he said that day at dinner time. "I suspect, Mabel, it is
some of your work."
"What, father?"
"Why, that boy Herbert thinks he knows all about the principles of
business, and in carrying out his theories has forfeited his place,
that is all."
"O father!" said Mabel, "Have you discharged him?"
"Well, yes. I tell you, Mabel, this mixing all sorts of fanciful ideas
up with the matter of earning one's bread, won't answer. Herbert will
find that success don't run in the same track with his sentimental
religious notions. Business is one thing and religion is another."
"I confess that such seems to be the prevalent opinion," said Mabel,
"but I—well, I like to see people carry their religion with them, not
lay it upon the shelf. Our faith is given us to help over hard places,
and if one does not keep it about him continually, it is pretty sure to
be out of call when most needed. As for Herbert, if I have taught him
this, I have not quite failed in my work."
"I supposed you were at the bottom of it, but I did not expect you to
own it quite so readily," replied Mr. Wynn, with unusual warmth. "I
don't think I shall be in a hurry to take another boy from your class."
"Well, father," responded Mabel, "all I can say is, that I have simply
tried to show them what the life and teachings of Christ mean; and if
Herbert has found anything required of him that conflicts with his
understanding of the spirit of the gospels, you cannot wonder that he
should be unwilling to conform to the requirements of the business."
"All a notion! All a notion! No need of being so strict. Besides, these
people who are so over-nice, sometimes find that they have smutted
their fingers in spite of their carefulness. And I can tell you that
Master Herbert will find that such places are not vacant every day. He
will have to drop some of his whims before he gets very high up in the
world."
Mabel said softly,—
"'His delight is in the law of the Lord; and whatsoever he doeth
shall prosper.'"
"Yes, yes! You quote Bible, but I quote facts," said Mr. Wynn.
"And don't you think that the facts will prove the Bible true."
"Of course the Bible is true, child, but not to be taken literally. Now
look at old Jackson over there at the distillery. He hasn't much regard
for Bible rules. I suspect that your nice distinctions between right
and wrong would be quite too fine for his dull vision; but it looks
very much as though the work of his hands was prospered; now don't it,
Mabel?"
"That depends on what you call prosperity," replied Mabel. "I don't
suppose that good Mr. Frink, old and poor as he is, would change
places with Mr. Jackson. It was only the other day that, speaking of
the abundance of work that had come in, he said, 'The Lord Lath dealt
bountifully with me, Miss Mabel.' But I suppose that if things ended
with this world, we might sometimes conclude that the wicked had the
best of it. But 'riches profit not in the day of wrath.'
"Things don't come out quite straight," she continued; "but I can't
help thinking that the Lord does repay, even in this life, those who
delight to do him honour."
"Well, my dear, your theories are all very fine; but if you were a
business man, you would find that a little coarse, rugged common sense
mixes in very well in the concerns of this life."
"And is this life all?" asked Mabel.
Mr. Wynn had left the table, and at the last question, he said, with a
forced laugh, something about a "woman's last word," and bowed himself
out politely as ever; but, if the truth was told, he was slightly
dissatisfied with himself, with Mabel, with the world generally, and
especially with boys.
I suspect that he wished with all his heart that Herbert was back
again in his place; for of course, he knew that the boy who braved his
displeasure for the sake of the right as he saw it (that was the way
Mr. Wynn put it) would make a trusty clerk. Besides, they were short
of help, and now he must look-out for a new boy. What a bother these
strict notions were! And what a nuisance such a tender conscience must
be!
For his own part, Mr. Wynn was usually very well satisfied with his
religion. It served him well as to reputation, it answered for Sundays,
and, no doubt, would do for a dying day. He was willing to take the
benefits of it; but as for personal work for the Master—why, that was
for the ministers and deacons and women; only he couldn't see that
there was any need of his daughter's enlisting in the cause.
I said he was willing to take the benefits. Of real personal religious
experience, he knew very little. Once—a long time ago—he lived for a
few months a different life—a life that now seemed to him like a dream.
The spirit of worldliness had soon taken possession of his heart, and,
gradually smothering the Christian graces that were springing up, now
reigned supreme.