"Or, better than that; perhaps Blake would let me work it out in his
store. I have a good deal of time on my hands unemployed."
"Yes, that would be better," replied Mrs. Gordon; "for I have as
much sewing as I can do, and get paid for it all."
This thought brightened the spirits of Gordon. As soon as he had
eaten his dinner he started for the store of Mr. Blake.
"I've come to talk to you about that bill of mine," said Mr. Gordon.
"Well, what of it?" returned the grocer. "I wish to pay it, but have
not the present ability. I lost my situation on the very day I
signed the pledge, and have had no regular employment since. So far,
I have only been able to pick up five or six dollars a week, and it
takes all that to live upon. But I have time to spare, Mr. Blake, if
I have no money; and if I can pay you in labor, I will be glad to do
so."
"I don't know that I could ask more than that," replied the grocer.
"If I did, I would be unreasonable. Let me see: I reckon I could
find a day's work for you about the store at least once a week, for
which I would allow you a credit of one dollar and a quarter. How
would that do?"
"It would be exactly what I would like. I can spare you a day
easily. And it is much better to work out an old debt than to be
idle."
"Very well, Gordon. Come to-morrow and work for me, and I will pass
a dollar and a quarter to your account. I like this. It shows you
are an honest man. Never fear but what you'll get along."
The approving words of the grocer encouraged Gordon very much. On
the next day he went as he had agreed and worked for Mr. Blake. When
he was about leaving the store at night, Blake called to him and
said--
"Here, Gordon; stop a moment. I want you to put up a pound of this
white crushed sugar; and a quarter of young hyson tea."
Gordon did as he was directed. Blake took the two packages from the
counter, and handing them to Gordon, said--
"Take them to your wife with my compliments, and tell her that I
wish her joy of an honest husband."
Gordon took the unexpected favor, and without speaking, turned
hastily from the grocer and walked away.
"Behind _that_ frowning Providence
He hid a smiling face,"
said Mrs. Gordon, with tearful eyes, when her husband presented her
the sugar and tea, and repeated what the grocer had said.
"Yes. It was a blessing sent to us in disguise," returned Gordon.
"How little do we know of the good or ill that lies in our immediate
future!"
"Do not say ill, dear husband--only seeming ill; if we think right
and do right. When God makes our future, all is good; the ill is of
our own procuring."
"Right, Mary. I see that truth as clear as if a sunbeam shone upon
it."
"Time, Faith, Energy!" murmured Gordon to himself, as he lay awake
that night, thinking of the future. Before losing himself in sleep,
he had made up his mind to go to another creditor for a small
amount, and see if he could not make a similar arrangement with him
to the one entered into with the grocer. The man demurred a little,
and then said he would take time to think about it. When Gordon
called again, he declined the proposition, and said he had sold his
goods for money, not for work.
"But I have no money," replied Gordon.
"I'll wait awhile and see," returned the man, in a way and with a
significance that fretted the mind of Gordon.
"He'll wait until he sees me getting a little ahead, and then pounce
down upon me like a hawk upon his prey."
Over this idea the reformed man worried himself, and went home to
his wife unhappy and dispirited.
"I owe at least a hundred and fifty or two hundred dollars," he
said; "and there is no hope of inducing all of those to whom money
is due to wait until we can pay them with comfort to ourselves. I
shall be tormented to death, I see that plain enough."
"Don't you look at the dark side, Henry?" replied his wife to this.
"I think you do. You owe some eight or ten persons, and one of them
has asked you for what was due. You offered to work out the debt,
and he accepted your offer. To another who has not asked you, you go
and make the same offer, which he declines, preferring to wait for
the money. There is nothing so really discouraging in all this, I am
sure. If he prefers waiting, let him wait. No doubt it will be the
same to us in the end. As to our getting much ahead or many comforts
around us until our debts are settled off, we might as well not
think of that. We will feel better to pay what we owe as fast as we
earn it; and, more than that, it will put the temptation to distress
us in nobody's way. If one man won't let you work out your debt, why
another will. I've no doubt that two-thirds of your creditors will
be glad to avail themselves of the offer."
Thus re-assured, Gordon felt better. On the next day he tried a
third party to whom he owed fifteen dollars. This man happened to
keep a retail grocery and liquor store. That is, he had a bar at one
counter, and sold groceries at the other. Two-thirds of the debt was
for liquor. "I want to wipe off that old score of mine, if I can,
Mr. King," said Gordon, as he met the storekeeper at his own door.
"That's clever," replied Mr. King. "Walk in. What will you take?
Some brandy?"
And Mr. King stepped behind the counter and laid his hand upon a
decanter.
"Nothing at all, I thank you," replied Gordon quickly.
"Why how's that? Have you sworn off?"
"Yes. I've joined the temperance society."
The storekeeper shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't expect that of
you, Gordon. I thought you were too fond of a little creature
comfort."
"I ruined myself and beggared my family by drink, if that is what
you mean by creature comfort. Poor comfort it was for my wife and
children, to say nothing of my own case, which was, Heaven knows,
bad enough. But I have come to talk to you about paying off that old
score. Now that I've given up drinking, I want to try and be honest
if I can."
"That's right. I like to see a man, when he sets out to be decent,
go the whole figure. Have you got the money?"
"No. I wish I had. I have no money and not half work; but I have
time on my hands, Mr. King."
"Time? That is what some people call money. You want to pay me in
time, instead of money, I presume? Rather rich, that, Gordon! But
time don't pass current, like money, in these diggins, my friend.
There are a plenty who come here--and throw it away for nothing. I
can get more than I want."
"I have no wish to throw my time away, nor to pass it upon you for
money, Mr. King. What I want is, to render you some service--in
other words, to work for you, if you can give me something to do. I
have time on my hands unemployed, and I wish to turn it to some good
account."
"O, yes. I understand now. Very well, Gordon; I rather think I can
meet your views. Yesterday my barkeeper was sent to prison for
getting into a scrape while drunk, and I want his place supplied
until he gets out. Come and tend bar for me a couple of weeks, and I
will give you a receipt in full of all demands."
Gordon shook his head and looked grave.
"What's the matter? Won't you do it?"
"No, sir. I can't do that."
"Why?"
"Because I have sworn neither to taste, touch, nor handle the
accursed thing. Neither to drink it myself, nor put it to the lips
of another. No, no, Mr. King, I can't do that. But I will sell your
groceries for you three days in the week, for four weeks. Part of my
time is already regularly engaged."
"Go off about your business!" said the store-keeper, his face red
with anger at the language of the reformed man, which he was pleased
to consider highly insulting. "I'll see to collecting that bill in a
different way from that."
By this time Gordon was learning not to be frightened and
discouraged at every thing. His wife had so often showed him its
folly, that he felt ashamed to go to her again in a desponding mood,
and therefore cheered himself up before going home.
In other quarters he found rather better success. Not all of those
he owed were of the stamp of the two to whom application had last
been made. In less than six months he had worked out nearly a
hundred dollars of what he owed, and had regular employment that
brought him in six dollars every week, besides earning, by odd jobs
and light porterage, from two to three dollars. His wife rarely let
a week go without producing her one or two dollars by needle-work.
Little comforts gradually crept in, notwithstanding all their debts
were not yet paid off. This was inevitable.
By the end of twelve months Gordon found himself clear of debt, and
in a good situation in a store at five hundred dollars a year.
"So much for 'Time, Faith, Energy,'" he said to himself, as he
walked backwards and forwards, in his comfortable little home, one
evening, thinking of the incidents of the year, and the results that
had followed. "I would not have believed it. Scarcely a twelvemonth
has passed, and here am I, a sober man and out of debt."
"Though still very far from the advanced position in the world you
held a few years ago, and to which you can never more attain," said
a desponding voice within him. "A man never has but one chance for
attaining ease and competence in this life. If he neglects that, he
need not waste his time in any useless struggles."
"Time, Faith, Energy!" spoke out another voice. "If one year has
done so much for you, what will not five, ten, or twenty years do?
Redouble your energies, have confidence in the future, and time will
make all right."
"I will have faith in time; I will have energy!" responded the man
in Gordon, speaking aloud.
From that time Gordon and his wife lived with even stricter economy
than before, in order to lay by a little money with which he
could,--at some future time, re-commence his own business, which was
profitable. There was still only a single shop in town, and that was
the one owned by his old employer, who had, in fact, built himself
up on his downfall, when he took to drinking and neglecting his
business. On less than a thousand dollars Gordon did not think of
commencing business. Less than that he knew would make the effort a
doubtful one. This amount he expected to save in about five years.
Two years of this time had elapsed, and Gordon had four hundred
dollars invested and bearing interest. He still held his situation
at five hundred dollars per annum. The only shop yet established in
the town for doing the work for which he was qualified both as a
journeyman and master workman, was that owned and still carried on
by his old employer, who had made a good deal of money; but who had,
of late, fallen into habits of dissipation and neglected his
business.
One evening, while Gordon was reading at home in his comfortable
little sitting-room, with his wife beside him engaged with her
needle, and both feeling very contented, there was a rap at the
door. On opening it Gordon recognized Mr. Evenly, and politely
invited him to come in. After being seated, his old employer, who
showed too plainly the debasing signs of frequent intoxication,
said--
"Gordon what are you doing now?"
The reformed man stated the nature of his occupation.
"What salary do you receive?" asked Evenly.
"Five hundred dollars a year."
"Do you like your present employment?"
"Yes, very well. It is lighter than my old business, and much
cleaner."
"Would you be willing to come to work for me again?" further
inquired Evenly.
"I don't know that I would. My present situation is permanent, my
employer a very pleasant man, and my work easy."
"Three things that are very desirable, certainly. But I'll tell you
what I want, and what I will give you. Perhaps we can make a
bargain. There is no man in town who understands our business better
than you do. That I am free to admit. Heretofore I have been my own
manager; but I am satisfied that it will be for my interest to have
a competent foreman in my establishment. If I can find one to suit
me I will give him liberal wages. You will do exactly; and if you
will take charge of my shop, I will make your wages fifteen dollars
a week. What do you say to that?"
"I rather think," replied Gordon, "that I will accept your offer.
Five dollars a week advance in wages for a poor man is a
consideration not lightly to be passed by."
"It is not, certainly," remarked Evenly. "Then I may consider it
settled that you will take charge of my shop."
"Yes. I believe I needn't hesitate about the matter."
So the arrangement was made, and Gordon went back to the shop as
foreman, from which he had been discharged as a journeyman three
years before.
Firmly bent upon commencing the business for himself, whenever he
should feel himself able to do so, Gordon continued his frugal mode
of living for two years longer, when the amount of his savings,
interest and all added, was very nearly fifteen hundred dollars. The
time had now come for him to take the step he had contemplated for
four years. Evenly received the announcement with undisguised
astonishment. After committing to such competent hands the entire
manufacturing part of his business, he had given himself up more and
more to dissipation. Had it not been for the active and energetic
manner in which the affairs of the shop were conducted by Gordon,
every thing would have fallen into disorder. But in a fair ratio
with the neglect of his principal was he efficient as his agent.
"I can't let you go," said Evenly, when Gordon informed him of his
intention to go into business for himself. "If fifteen dollars a
week doesn't satisfy you, you shall have twenty."
"It is not the wages," replied Gordon. "I wish to go into business
for myself. From the first this has been my intention."
"But you haven't the capital."
"Yes. I have fifteen hundred dollars."
"You have!"
"Yes. I have saved it in four years. That will give me a fair start.
I am not afraid for the rest."'
Evenly felt well satisfied that if Gordon went into business for
himself, his own would be ruined, and therefore, finding all efforts
to dissuade him from his purpose of no avail, he offered to take him
in as a partner. But to this came an unexpected objection. Gordon
was averse to such a connection. Being pressed to state the reason
why, he frankly said--
"My unwillingness to enter into business with you arises from the
fact that you are, as I was four years ago, a slave to strong drink.
You are not yourself one half of the time, and hardly ever in a fit
condition to attend to business. Pardon me for saying this. But you
asked for my reason, and I have given it."
Evenly, at first, was angry. But reflection soon came, and then he
felt humiliated as he had never felt before. There was no intention
on the part of Gordon to insult him, nor to triumph over him, but
rather a feeling of sorrow; and this Evenly saw.
"And this is your only objection?" he at length said.
"I have none other," replied Gordon.
"If it did not exist you would meet my proposals?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Then it shall no longer exist. From this hour I will be as free
from the vice you have named as you are."
"Will you sign the pledge?"
"Yes, this very hour."
And he did so.
A year afterwards an old friend, who had joined the temperance ranks
about the time Gordon did, and who had only got along moderately
well, passed the establishment of EVENLY & GORDON, and saw the
latter standing in the door.
"Are you in this concern?" he asked, in some surprise.
"Yes."
"And making money fast?"
"We are doing very well."
"Gordon, I don't understand this altogether. I tried to recover
myself, but soon got discouraged, and have ever since plodded along
in a poor way I live, it is true; but you are doing much better than
that. What is your secret?"
"It lies in three words," replied Gordon.
"Name them."
"Time, Faith, Energy!"
The man looked startled for a moment, and then walked away wiser
than when he asked the question. Whether he will profit by the
answer we cannot tell. Others may, if they will.