THE SECRET OF SUCCESS.
THAT evening, on his way from the school, Walter called at the Mill
Cottage to inquire after Gracie, who had been very ill for some weeks
past, having caught a violent cold, which had settled on her chest.
The night was fine, and the moon at the full. A slight frostiness in
the air had strewn the roads with autumn leaves, telling the fast
approaching winter season.
When Walter entered the kitchen, there was no one there but Mrs. Hardy
and her daughters. Neither John Hardy nor Frank was visible. Walter
thought that Mrs. Hardy seemed put out at his coming, and answered his
inquiries about Gracie in a hastier manlier than usual.
"The child will do well enough after a bit. She wants better food,
though, than I can afford her; the doctor said she was to have
nourishing things. It's easy for such-like to talk."
"Has she been up yet?" asked Walter.
"I got her up to-day for a little while; but she said she was so tired
that she was glad to get to bed again."
"Is that Walter, mother?" cried a voice from an adjoining room.
Mrs. Hardy looked annoyed—she evidently wished to get rid of Walter as
quickly as possible.
"Yes, child, yes; but you ought to be asleep now," said her mother, not
in a very kind or gentle tone.
"Let him just come to the door; I want so to speak to him, mother."
Walter moved across the kitchen towards the door where Gracie's voice
proceeded.
"I am glad you are better, Gracie dear."
"I do hope I shall soon be well," cried the child; "it seems so long
since I had a talk with you. And oh, Walter, my little seat at the
bottom of the garden has got broken—and will you mend it for me? I know
you will, for you are so kind. When I was so very ill, it made me so
sad to think I should perhaps never see you again, Walter."
Here a violent fit of coughing interrupted Gracie's speech. And Mrs.
Hardy made a sign to Walter not to talk much more to her.
"I must go now, Gracie dear," said Walter, when the child's coughing
had ceased, "but I will come again very soon, and then I hope you
will be able to be up; and I will see what your seat wants this very
evening, so that it shall be ready for you by the time you want it.
The moon shines so brightly that I can see as well as by daylight.
Good-night, dear."
"Never mind the seat to-night," said Mrs. Hardy in a low voice, so that
Grace could not hear. "There will be plenty of opportunity to see to it
before Gracie will want it."
"It will not take me a minute, Mrs. Hardy," replied Walter, "and then I
can bring whatever is wanted with me when I come again."
Walter wished Mrs. Hardy good evening, and left the cottage. He had not
gone many steps along the little path leading to the water-side when he
heard a rustling among the bushes, and saw, or fancied he saw, one of
Gracie's sisters hastening in the same direction in which he was going,
but by another path.
Presently a low whistle was heard.
A minute afterwards, he had reached the little seat which he had put
up for Gracie. One of the legs had been wrenched off, evidently on
purpose. Walter had taken the size of it, and was about to return
towards the cottage, when, on looking towards the stream, upon which
the moon shone full, he saw several figures on the opposite bank. They
were either getting in or out of the boat; and again he heard the same
low whistle.
He had no desire to pry into other people's business, and, least of
all, did he care to have anything to do with the Hardys and their
mysterious doings. He turned hastily away to retrace his steps, and
in so doing nearly stumbled over a sack which lay partly concealed by
a bush at one side of the seat. The sack was full, and by the bright
moonlight Walter saw the tail-feather of a pheasant peeping out at the
mouth of the sack.
He felt quite glad when he was once more out on the high-road. Once or
twice he fancied he had heard voices calling after him; but he never
stopped for a moment until he had got clear of Mill Cottage and the
lane leading to it. Then he stood still for a moment to take breath.
"How right mother was to caution me against that Tom Haines!" thought
Walter. "And how I wish that Frank would be warned in time before he
gets into some terrible trouble, which he will do sooner or later."
Walter said nothing to his mother that evening about his having seen
the sack, but he told her about poor Gracie's illness; and Mrs. White
promised to make some broth and some light pudding for the sick child.
When Walter, after reading his Bible as usual by the light of the fire,
knelt down to say his prayers that evening, he prayed for Frank Hardy
that he might have grace given him to turn aside from the evil way upon
which he had entered.
It is to be feared that few of us act as if we felt the full value and
the great privileges of prayer—of intercessory prayer. We all can pray
when we want anything for ourselves, or for those who, by the ties of
relationship, are most near and dear to us; but how few of us pray for
our acquaintances, let alone our enemies. And yet what is our blessed
Saviour's express command?—"Pray for them that despitefully use you and
persecute you."
No one can pray for his enemies and not feel kindly towards them. The
very act of praying for another is unselfish in itself; and it is
impossible to feel anger and bitterness towards one for whom we are
asking God's grace and favour. So that the praying for our enemies
brings down a blessing for ourselves by subduing in us the uncharitable
feelings which we might have previously entertained towards the subject
of our prayers.
When Walter met Frank the following morning, he looked confused and
uneasy; and, taking advantage of a few moments when the foreman was
absent from the shed, and the two lads were quite alone, he said,—
"What were you doing at our place last evening, Walter? And what made
you walk away so fast? Did you not hear me calling to you?"
"I heard some one calling, but I did not recognise your voice, Frank.
I had only gone down to the banks of the stream to see what was the
matter with Gracie's seat, and she had asked me to mend it for her."
Frank appeared relieved by Walter's open and straightforward answer.
Still there seemed something more upon his mind, although he hardly
knew how to put the question. At length he said, "I wish you were one
of us, Walter; it seems unnatural to have secrets from you; and if you
would only come with me some evening, I could put you in the way of
earning a nice little sum of money with very little trouble."
"I can never come with you, Frank," said Walter, earnestly. "I have
seen quite enough, and—"
"What did you see?" interrupted Frank, with a scared look. "What did
you see, I should like to know?" And then he added, in a quieter
tone—"You won't tell any one, will you, Walter? You won't?"
"Don't be afraid, Frank; I have nothing to tell. When I say I have seen
enough, I mean that Tom Haines' look last evening was quite enough for
me. I would not be in his power for all the world."
"I am not in his power," exclaimed Frank, angrily.
"Nay, Frank, I saw you quail beneath his eye when he told you to make
haste, and all your merriment seemed gone. Oh, Frank, it cannot be a
good friend who can have such power over you."
The return of the foreman put a stop to the conversation, and there
was no further opportunity for renewing it during the day, as Walter
accompanied his master down to the lower village, and was at work there
the whole of the afternoon.
Although so short a time had elapsed since the opening of the evening
school, Walter had already made great progress both in mensuration
and drawing; and he was now generally preferred before Frank to go
with Mr. King when he wanted any assistance. That afternoon they were
busy putting up the mouldings round the doors and windows of one of
the houses on the shore, which they were hurrying to finish, as the
gentleman who had purchased it wished to come and live in it as soon as
possible. They were busily at work, when a message came for Mr. King,
who was obliged to absent himself for a time.
"Can I trust you, Walter, do you think, to finish putting up this
moulding by yourself? I promised that it should be done this evening,
and I am obliged to go to the upper village for an hour at least."
"I can do it, sir, I know," said Walter, his eyes sparkling with
pleasure at the thought of being trusted; "you shall see that you can
trust me."
"Very well," said Mr. King, smiling. "You are a sharp lad, and a steady
one too, and will rise in the world, if I am not very much mistaken."
Walter worked on steadily. He was really fond of his business,
especially those parts of it which required peculiar nicety. Quite
absorbed in what he was about, and whistling merrily as he worked,
he was unconscious of the entrance of a good-natured-looking elderly
gentleman, who stood for some minutes watching Walter as he was
finishing a corner of a moulding which he had fitted with great
exactness.
"Well done, youngster," said a cheerful voice; and Walter started as he
looked up and saw the old gentleman watching him. "You are rather young
to be trusted with such work as that; but you seem to know what you are
about."
"Master was obliged to go away for a short time, sir, and he said I
might try how I could get on in his absence."
"I am sorry Mr. King is not here, for I wanted to speak to him about
putting some slight ornament in wood-work round that gable. I am
leaving Springcliffe this evening, and shall be away a week. I know he
could give me an idea of what I want on paper in a moment. I cannot
draw a stroke myself, more's the pity; for I have often felt the loss
of it, knowing quite well what I want, but being utterly unable to make
others understand it."
While the gentleman was speaking, Walter had taken up a smoothly-planed
piece of deal, which was lying upon the ground, and was drawing
something upon it. Strange to say, he had been lately copying some
designs for ornamental gables at the evening school, and he remembered
enough of some of the patterns to give a very fair idea in his sketch.
"Is this anything like what you mean, sir?" he said, showing what he
had just been drawing.
"It is something very like it," exclaimed the gentleman, with a look of
surprise. "Where did you learn to draw like this?"
"At the evening school, sir. I go there three times a week, and
practise at home besides."
"Your sketch does you great credit, my lad, and with a very little
alteration would be just what I want. Can you round off that corner a
little, and give that part rather more of a curve?"
Walter did as the gentleman suggested and his sketch was pronounced
perfect.
[Illustration: "Is this anything like what you want, sir?"]
"Is this your first attempt at drawing a design?"
"Yes, sir; except what I have done at school."
"It does you great credit, and I shall tell your master so." He wrote
a few lines on a card as he spoke, and putting it in an envelope which
he had in his pocket, he gave it to Walter to give to Mr. King. "Here
is half-a-crown for your first design, youngster," said the gentleman,
"and it will not be the last you'll get, if you go on as you are now
doing."
The gentleman left the house, and Walter worked doubly hard to make up
for the time he had lost. He was most anxious to get as much done as
possible before his master returned. When at last Mr. King did come
back, he was much pleased with all that Walter had done, and praised
him for his industry.
"But what is all this, Walter, eh?" said his master, as he opened the
envelope which had been left for him by the old gentleman. "Mr. Danvers
talks about a design of yours, with which he was much pleased. Where is
it?"
"It is nothing particular, sir," said Walter, colouring, as he showed
Mr. King the sketch he had drawn. "I took the idea from some designs we
have been copying lately at the class, and it seemed to be just what
Mr. Danvers wanted."
"I am very glad you are able to apply what you learn, Walter," said his
master. "Those classes will make a man of you, if you go on at this
rate."
Walter's face beamed with pleasure as his master spoke these words. He
showed Mr. King the half-crown which Mr. Danvers had given him.
"You deserved it, Walter, and I will add another to it," continued Mr.
King, taking his purse out of his pocket. "Now, put that five shillings
into the Post-Office Savings' Bank this very evening, Walter, as the
first fruits of the benefit you have reaped from having listened to
good advice, and from having sacrificed a little of your leisure time
to the laudable desire of improving yourself. I only wish Frank Hardy
deserved the same encouragement.
"By the bye, Walter—I don't want you to tell any tales—but do you know
how Frank employs himself in the evening? I rarely see him about the
village, and he is always in a hurry to leave the yard."
"I don't know much about Frank, sir," replied Walter—"at least, I mean
what he does after he leaves the yard; but I think he is a great deal
with Tom Haines."
"Just so," said Mr. King; "I fear so also; and a worse companion it is
impossible for a young lad to have; but why Tom Haines troubles himself
about Frank is a mystery to me."