It was one week from St. Valentine’s Day, and the Berry children had
already provided a number of the tokens, comic and otherwise, which they
meant to send to their friends. Jack produced a grotesque and awfully
exaggerated caricature of a withered, stoop-shouldered old woman, with
some cruel lines of doggerel printed beneath it.
“I’m going to send this to old Mrs. Gray,” said Jack, as he exhibited
the comic picture.
Nearly all the children laughed, and said that the picture and the words
beneath it would just suit the old woman. Mrs. Gray was an old and
poverty-stricken widow woman, and many of the children of the little
village took delight in playing tricks on her on Hallowe’en and
Valentine nights. In this way, the children, especially the boys, had
made her life so miserable that the old woman often said that she hated
even the sight of a boy. In the midst of the merriment over the proposed
venture of Jack Berry, it was Lillie Berry who spoke up, saying,----
“Jack, I tell you what I think. I think we ought to give Mrs. Gray a
genuine surprise next week. She has had so many ups and downs in this
life, I really believe that we can give her a little pleasure if we give
her a true--true surprise. Of course, all the boys and girls will be
invited to join in, but it is not going to be like a regular party, but
something like the ‘surprise’ parties or donation parties that we
sometimes give the preacher; we’ll just put the things on the doorstep
and run, the way we do with valentines, you know. What do you say to
that, Jack? And what do the rest of you think?”
[Illustration: OLD MRS. GRAY.]
Very quickly the Berry children agreed with what Lillie had said, and
immediately they set about planning for the valentine party.
The night of February fourteenth was clear, cold and moonless. Across
the fields in the darkness, a throng of merry young children, with a
wagon or two (little goat wagons) piled high with baskets and bundles
and wood, slipped silently toward the little house where old Mrs. Gray
sat shivering over her scanty fire. A sudden knock at the door aroused
Mrs. Gray from her musing. She hobbled painfully to the door. Opening
it, she saw by the light of the tallow candle a basket of rosy apples
and another of potatoes. Nothing else was in sight.
A second knock followed almost as soon as the door had closed on the two
baskets which were hurriedly drawn inside. This time a can of kerosene
oil held a lonely vigil on the doorstep.
“I haven’t had a drop in my lamp for two weeks,” Jack heard the old lady
say, as she peered out eagerly into the darkness before closing the
door.
As she was busy filling her lamp, she was interrupted by a third knock,
which resulted in a basket filled with groceries in parcels in all
shapes and sizes. Great tears stood in Mrs. Gray’s eyes, and a great
lump arose in her throat.
At last knock number four revealed the real Saint Valentine--a group of
laughing boys and girls, every one of whom carried an armful either of
pine or oak wood for the stove.
“Where shall we put it?” asked Jack Berry, as eager now to help as he
had been the week before to tease. Mrs. Gray was rubbing her eyes, and
wondering if she could possibly be awake and in her right mind.
“Wish you many happy returns of Valentine’s Day!” said Lillie Berry, as
she slipped into the withered hand a small purse containing the
valentine money of the boys and girls; and before the bewildered woman
could say more than a fervent “God bless you,” her guests had melted
away in the darkness, and she was left to weep tears of thankfulness
among her new possessions.
“NO MONEY DOWN.”
Boys and girls, I suppose you are quite familiar with what is known as
buying things on the instalment plan. You have seen people in your own
neighborhood--perhaps in your own homes--buy things that way. Chairs,
tables, bed-steads, rugs, pictures, things for the kitchen and things to
wear, and many other things are bought that way. Most people think they
are getting a great bargain when they are able to buy things by paying a
small amount in cash as the first payment--say fifty-cents or a
dollar--and then pay the balance in small weekly or monthly payments.
And especially do some of our mothers and fathers think that they are
getting a great bargain, if they are able to buy things they want for
“no money down” and so much a week. In such matters, my dear boys and
girls, your parents are making a terrible mistake and are setting you a
wrong example. They lose sight of the fact, when they fall into the
habit of buying anything and everything on the instalment plan or on the
“no money down” plan, that a day of reckoning is sure to come; that the
time comes when they must pay for everything that they have been led
into buying. Thoughtful people--wise people--prefer to pay “money down”
when they buy anything; and this habit of paying as they go helps them
in at least two ways. First, it saves money in their pockets, and,
secondly, it keeps them from running in debt.
Children, these men who come to your homes with great packs on their
backs always charge you double for whatever they may sell you on the “no
money down” plan--no matter what it is! That is why they are willing to
make the terms so “easy,” as they say. In the end they profit by their
schemes, and nobody else does profit by their schemes except these
peddlers. You ought to avoid them as you would a wild beast. You do not
know now, boys and girls, what a terrible thing debt is. I honestly hope
that you may never know, and if you will take the advice of older and
wiser persons I am sure you will always be free from the bondage of
debt.
Not long ago, I saw two women standing at the window of one of these “no
money down” or “hand-me-down” stores. One said to the other--
“I just believe I’ll get me a new cloak this winter. My cloak didn’t
cost but three dollars, and it is so old and shabby that I am ashamed to
wear it in the street. Look at that beauty over there in the corner.
Only ten dollars and ‘no money down’.”
“Yes;” said her companion, “but I guess the money will have to come down
sometime.”
“Oh, of course; but, you know, I won’t have to pay it all at once. I
could probably get it for fifty cents a week.”
“Well, why don’t you just save the fifty cents a week until you have
enough to pay ‘cash down’ for the cloak, and in that way you would save,
I am sure, three or four dollars; because you can buy that same cloak
for six dollars or seven dollars in cash.”
“Oh,” said the woman, “I’d never save it as I would if I had the cloak
and knew that I just had to pay for it.”
“But, Delia, the cloak would not really be yours until you had paid for
it, and I would feel kind of cheap wearing a cloak that didn’t belong to
me. If I were you I would stick to the old cloak until I could pay the
money down for a new one. That’s what I would do.”
And that is exactly what anybody should do who wants a new cloak. It is
what people should do, no matter what they want. I know a boy fifteen or
sixteen years old who had the courage and the manliness and the honesty
to wear a very shabby old overcoat all of last winter rather than buy
one on the “no money down” plan. It is his plan always to “pay as he
goes,” and be debtor to no one.
I heard the other day of a young fellow who goes two or three blocks out
of his way to avoid passing certain stores because he owes the
proprietors of those stores money that he cannot pay. That boy, I know,
is miserable night and day. Mr. Longfellow, in his “The Village
Blacksmith,” tells us that the honest old blacksmith could look “the
whole world in the face,” because he did not owe anybody anything--he
was out of debt. And boys and girls, if you are level-headed, you will
fight shy of the “no money down” plan. By choosing the “money down”
plan, you will save your self-respect and your good name.