"I DON'T see that I am so much better off," said Mr. Gordon, a manwho had recently given up drinking. "I lost my situation on the veryday I signed the pledge, and have had no regular employment since."
"But you would have lost your situation if you hadn't signed thepledge, I presume," said the individual to whom he was complaining.
"Yes. I lost it because I got drunk and spoiled my job. But to hearsome temperance people talk, one who didn't know would be led tobelieve that, the very moment the pledge was signed, gold could bepicked up in the streets. I must confess that I haven't found it so.Money is scarcer with me than it ever was; and though I don't spenda cent for myself, my family haven't a single comfort more than theyhad before."
"Though there's no disputing the fact that they would have many lesscomforts if you hadn't signed the pledge?"
"No, I suppose not. But I cannot help feeling discouraged at the waythings go. If I had the same wages I received before I signed thepledge, I could be laying up money. But, as it is, it requires theutmost economy to keep from getting in debt."
"Still, you do manage to keep even?"
"Yes."
"On about half your former income?"
"A little over half. I used to get ten dollars a week. Now I manage,by picking up odd jobs here and there, to make about six."
"Then you are better off than you were before."
"I hardly see how you can make that out."
"Your family have enough to live upon--all they had before--and youhave a healthier body, a calmer mind, and a clearer conscience.Isn't here something gained?"
"I rather think there is," replied Gordon, smiling.
"And I rather think you are a good deal better off than you werebefore. Isn't your wife happier?"
"O! yes. She's as cheerful as a lark all the day."
"And doesn't murmur because of your light wages?"
"No, indeed! not she. I believe if I didn't earn more than threedollars a week, and kept sober, she would make it do, somehow orother, and keep a good heart. It's wonderful how much she ischanged!"
"And yet you are no better off? Ain't you better off in having ahappy wife and a pleasant home, what I am sure you hadn't before?"
"You are right in that. I certainly had neither of them before. Oh!yes. I am much better off all around. I only felt a littledespondent, because I can't get regular employment as I used to, andgood wages; for now, if I had these, I could do so well."
"Be patient, friend Gordon; time will make all right. There arethree words that every reformed man should write on the walls of hischamber, that he may see them every morning. They are 'Time, Faith,Energy.' No matter how low he may have fallen; no matter howdiscouraging all things around him may appear; let him have energy,and faith in time, and all will come out well at last."
Gordon went home, feeling in better heart than when he met thetemperance friend who had spoken to him these encouraging words.
Henry Gordon, when he married, had just commenced business forhimself, and went on for several years doing very well. He laid byenough money to purchase himself a snug little house, and was in agood way for accumulating a comfortable property, when the habit ofdram-drinking, which he had indulged for years, became anover-mastering passion. From that period he neglected his business,which steadily declined. In half the time it took to accumulate theproperty he possessed, all disappeared--his business was broken up,and he compelled to work at his trade as a journeyman to support hisfamily. From a third to a half of the sum he earned weekly, he spentin gratifying the debasing appetite that had almost beggared hisfamily and reduced him to a state of degradation little above thatof the brute. The balance was given to his sad-hearted wife, to getfood for the hungry, half-clothed children.
Nor was this all. Debts were contracted which Gordon was unable topay. One or two of his creditors, more exacting than the rest,seized upon his furniture and sold it to satisfy their claims,leaving to the distressed family only the few articles exempt bylaw.
Things had reached this low condition, when Gordon came home fromthe shop, one day, some hours earlier than usual. Surprised atseeing him, his wife said--
"What's the matter, Henry? Are you sick?"
"No!" he replied, sullenly, "I'm discharged."
"Discharged! For what, Henry?"
"For spoiling a job."
"How did that happen?" Mrs. Gordon spoke kindly, although she feltanxious and distressed.
"How has all my trouble happened?" asked Gordon, with unusualbitterness of tone. "I took a glass too much, and--and--"
"It made you spoil your job," said his wife, her voice still kind.
"Yes. Curse the day I ever saw a drop of liquor! It has been thecause of all my misfortunes."
"Why not abandon its use at once and for ever, Henry?"
"That is not so easily done."
"Hundreds have done it, and are doing it daily, and so may you. Onlymake the resolution, Henry. Only determine to break these fetters,and you are free. Let the time past, wherein you have wrought folly,and your family suffered more than words can express, suffice. Onlywill it, and there will be a bright future for all of us."
Tears came into the eyes of Mrs. Gordon while she made this appeal,although she strove hard to appear calm. Her husband felt a betterspirit awaking within him. There was a brief struggle betweenappetite and the good resolution that was forming in his mind, andthen the latter conquered.
"I will be free!" he said, turning towards the door through which hehad a little while before entered, and hurriedly leaving the house.
The hour that passed from the time her husband went out until hereturned, was one of most anxious suspense to Mrs. Gordon. Her handtrembled so that she could not hold her needle, and was obliged tolay aside the sewing upon which she was engaged, and go about somehousehold employments.
"Mary, I have signed the pledge, if that will do any good," saidGordon, opening the door and coming in upon his wife with his pledgein his hand. "There," and he unrolled the paper and pointed to hisname; "there is my signature, and here is the document."
He did not speak very cheerfully; but his wife's face was lit upwith a sudden brightness, followed by a gush of tears.
"Do any good!" she replied, leaning her head upon his shoulder, andgrasping one of his hands tightly in both of hers. "It will do allgood!"
"But I have no work, Mary. I was discharged to-day, and it is theonly shop in town. What are we to do?"
"Mr. Evenly will take you back, now that you have signed thepledge."
"Perhaps he will!" Gordon spoke more cheerfully. "I will go and seehim to-morrow."
Mrs. Gordon prepared her husband a strong cup of coffee, and bakedsome nice hot cakes for his supper. She combed her hair, and madeherself as tidy as possible. The children, too, were much improvedin their looks by a little attention, which their mother feltencouraged to give. There was an air of comfort about theill-furnished dwelling of Henry Gordon that it had not known for along time, and he felt it.
On the next morning, after breakfast, Gordon went back to the shopfrom which he had been discharged only the day previous. Evenly, theowner of it, was a rough, unfeeling man, and had kept Gordon on,month after month, because he could not well do without him. But, onthe very day he discharged him, a man from another town had appliedfor work, and the spoiled job was made an excuse for discharging ajourneyman, whose habits of intoxication had always been offensiveto the master-workman.
When Gordon entered the shop for the purpose of asking to be takenback, he met Evenly near the door, who said to him, in a roughmanner--
"And what do you want, pray?"
"I want you to take me back again," replied Gordon. "I have signedthe pledge, and intend leading a sober life hereafter."
"The devil you have!"
"Yes sir. I signed it yesterday, after you discharged me."
"How long do you expect to keep it?" asked Evenly, with a sneer."Long enough to reach the next grogshop?"
"I have taken the pledge for life, I trust," returned the workman,seriously. He was hurt at the contemptuous manner of his oldemployer, but his dependent condition made him conceal his feelings."You will have no more trouble with me."
"No, I am aware of that. I will have no more trouble with you, for Inever intend to let you come ten feet inside the front door of myshop."
"But I have reformed my bad habit, Mr. Evenly. I will give you nomore trouble with my drinking," said the poor man, alarmed at thislanguage.
"It's no use for you to talk to me, Gordon," replied Evenly, in arough manner. "I've long wanted to get rid of you, and I havefinally succeeded. Your place is filled. So there is no more to sayon that subject. Good morning."
And the man turned on his heel and left Gordon standing halfstupified at what he had heard.
"Rum's done the business for you at last, my lark! I told you itwould come to this!" said an old fellow workman, who heard whatpassed between Gordon and the employer. He spoke in a light,insulting voice.
Without replying, the unhappy man left the shop, feeling morewretched than he had ever felt in his life.
"And thus I am met at my first effort to reform!" he murmured,bitterly.
"Hallo, Gordon! Where are you going?" cried a voice as these wordsfell from his lips.
He looked up and found himself opposite to the door of one of hisold haunts. It was the keeper of it who had called him.
"Come! Walk in and let us see your pleasant face this morning. Wherewere you last night? My company all complained about your absence.We were as dull as a funeral."
"Curse you and your company too!" ejaculated Gordon between histeeth, and moved on, letting his eyes fall again to the pavement.
"Hey-day! What's the matter?"
But Gordon did not stop to bandy words with one of the men who hadhelped to ruin him.
"It's all over with us, Mary. Evenly's got a man in my place," saidGordon, as he entered his house and threw himself despairingly intoa chair. "But won't he give you work, too?" asked Mrs. Gordon, in ahusky voice.
"No! He insulted me, and said I should never come ten feet inside ofhis shop."
"Did you tell him that you had signed the pledge?"
"Yes. But it was no use. He did not seem to care for me any morethan he did for a dog."
The poor man's distress was so great that he covered his face withhis hands, and sat swinging his body to and fro, and utteringhalf-suppressed moans.
"What are we to do, Mary? There is no other shop in town," he said,looking up, after growing a little calm. "Doesn't it seem hard, justas I am trying to do right?"
"Don't despair, Henry. Let us trust in Providence. It is only a darkmoment; yet, dark as it is, it is brighter to me than any period hasbeen for years. A clear head and ready hands will not go longunemployed. I do not despond, dear husband, neither should you. Keepfast anchored to your pledge, and we will outride the storm."
"But we shall starve, Mary. We cannot live upon air."
"No," replied Mrs. Gordon; "but we can live upon half what you havebeen earning at your trade, and quite as comfortably as we have beenliving. And it will be an extreme case, I think, if you can't getemployment at five dollars a week, doing something or other. Don'tyou?"
"It appears so. Certainly I ought to be able to earn five dollars aweek, if it is at sawing wood. I'll do that--I'll do any thing."
"Then we needn't be alarmed. I'll try and get some sewing at anyrate, to help out. So brighten up, Henry. All will be well. It willtake a little time to get things going right again; but time andindustry will do all for us that we could ask."
Thus encouraged, Gordon started out to see if he could findsomething to do. It was a new thing for him to go in search of work;and rather hard, he felt, to be obliged almost to beg for it. Whereto go, or to whom to apply, he did not know. After wandering aboutfor several hours, and making several applications at out of the wayplaces with no success, he turned his steps homeward, feelingutterly cast down. In this state, he was assailed by the temptationto drown all his trouble in the cup of confusion, and nearly drawnaside; but a thought of his wife, and the bright hope that hadsprung up in her heart in the midst of darkness, held him back.
"It's no use to try, Mary," he said, despondingly, as he entered hispoorly-furnished abode, and found his wife busy with her needle. "Ican't get any work."
"I have been more successful than you have, Henry," Mrs. Gordonreturned, speaking cheerfully. "I went to see if Mrs. Hewitt hadn'tsome sewing to give out, and she gave me a dozen shirts to make. Sodon't be discouraged. You can afford to wait for work even for twoor three weeks, if it doesn't come sooner. Let us be thankful forwhat we have to-day, and trust in God for to-morrow. Depend upon it,we shall not want. Providence never forsakes the man who is tryingto do right."
Thus Mrs. Gordon strove to keep up the spirits of her husband. Afterdinner, he went out again and called to see a well-known temperanceman. After relating to him what he had done, and how unhappily hewas situated in regard to work, the man said--
"It won't do to be idle, Gordon; that's clear. An idle man istempted ten times to another's once. You will never be able to keepthe pledge unless you get something to do. We must assist you inthis matter. What can you do besides your trade?"
"I have little skill beyond my regular calling; but then, I havehealth, strength, and willingness; and I think these might be madeuseful in something."
"So do I. Now to start with, I'll tell you what I'll do. If you willcome and open my store for me every morning, make the fire and sweepout, and come and stay an hour for me every day while I go todinner, I will give you three dollars a week. Two hours a day is allyour time I shall want."
"Thank you from my heart! Of course I accept your offer. So far sogood," said Gordon, brightening up.
"Very well. You may begin with to-morrow morning. No doubt you canmake an equal sum by acting as a light porter for the various storesabout. I can throw a little in your way; and I will speak to myneighbors to do the same." There was not a happier home in the wholetown than was the home of Henry Gordon that night, poor as it was.
"I knew it would all come out right," said Mrs. Gordon. "I knew abetter day was coming. We can live quite comfortably upon five orsix dollars a week, and be happier than we have been for years."
When Gordon thought of the past, he did not wonder that tears fellover the face of his wife, even while her lips and eyes were brightwith smiles. As the friend had supposed, Gordon was employed to domany errands by the storekeepers in the neighborhood. Some weeks hemade five dollars and sometimes six or seven. This went on for a fewmonths, when he began to feel discouraged. The recollection of otherand brighter days returned frequently to his mind, and he beganardently to desire an improved external condition, as well for hiswife and children as for himself. He wished to restore what had beenlost; but saw no immediate prospect of being able to do so. Sixdollars a week was the average of his earnings, and it took allthis, besides what little his wife earned, to make things tolerablycomfortable at home.
Gordon was in a more desponding mood than usual, when he indulged inthe complaint with which our story opens. What was said to himchanged the tone of his feelings, and inspired him with a spirit ofcheerfulness and hope.
"Time, Faith, Energy!" he said to himself, as he walked with a moreelastic step. "Yes, these must bring out all right in the end. Iwill not be so weak as to despond. All is much improved as it is. Weare happier and better. Time, Faith, Energy! I will trust in these."
When Gordon opened the door of his humble abode, he found a ladwaiting to see him, who arose, and presenting a small piece ofpaper, said--
"Mr. Blake wishes to know when you can settle this?"
Mr. Blake was a grocer, to whom ten dollars had been owing for ayear. He had dunned the poor drunkard for the money until he gottired of so profitless a business, and gave up the account for lost.By some means, it had recently come to his ears that Gordon hadsigned the pledge.
"Some chance for me yet," he said, and immediately had the bill madeout anew, and sent in; not thinking or caring whether it might notbe premature for him to do so, and have the effect to discourage thepoor man and drive him back to his old habits. What he wanted washis money. It was his due; and he meant to have it if he could getit.
"Tell Mr. Blake that I will pay him as soon as possible. At presentit is out of my power," said Gordon, in answer to the demand.
The lad, in the spirit of his master, turned away with a sulky air,and left the house.
Poor Gordon's feelings went down to zero in a moment.
"It's hopeless, Mary! I see it all as plain as day," he said. "Themoment I get upon my feet, there will be a dozen to knock me down.While I was a drunkard, no one thought of dunning me for money; butnow that I am trying to do right, every one to whom I am indebted adollar will come pouncing down upon me."
"It's a just debt, Henry, you know, and we ought to pay it."
"I don't dispute that. But we can't pay it now."
"Then Blake can't get it now; so there the matter will have to rest.A little dunning won't kill us. We have had harder trials than thatto bear. So don't get discouraged so easily."
The words "Time, Faith, Energy!" came into the mind of Gordon andrebuked him.
"There is sense in what you say, Mary," he replied. "I know I am tooeasily discouraged. We owe Blake, that is clear; and I suppose he isright in trying to get his money. We can't pay him now; andtherefore he can't get it now, do what he will. So we will be noworse for his dunning, if he duns every day. But I hate so to beasked for money."
"I'll tell you what might be done," said Mrs. Gordon.
"Well?" inquired the husband.
"Mr. Blake has a large family, and no doubt his wife gives out agood deal of sewing. I could work it out."
Gordon thought a few moments, and then said--
"Or, better than that; perhaps Blake would let me work it out in hisstore. I have a good deal of time on my hands unemployed."
"Yes, that would be better," replied Mrs. Gordon; "for I have asmuch sewing as I can do, and get paid for it all."
This thought brightened the spirits of Gordon. As soon as he hadeaten 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 havenot the present ability. I lost my situation on the very day Isigned 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 ittakes all that to live upon. But I have time to spare, Mr. Blake, ifI have no money; and if I can pay you in labor, I will be glad to doso."
"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 couldfind a day's work for you about the store at least once a week, forwhich I would allow you a credit of one dollar and a quarter. Howwould that do?"
"It would be exactly what I would like. I can spare you a dayeasily. And it is much better to work out an old debt than to beidle."
"Very well, Gordon. Come to-morrow and work for me, and I will passa dollar and a quarter to your account. I like this. It shows youare an honest man. Never fear but what you'll get along."
The approving words of the grocer encouraged Gordon very much. Onthe next day he went as he had agreed and worked for Mr. Blake. Whenhe was about leaving the store at night, Blake called to him andsaid--
"Here, Gordon; stop a moment. I want you to put up a pound of thiswhite crushed sugar; and a quarter of young hyson tea."
Gordon did as he was directed. Blake took the two packages from thecounter, and handing them to Gordon, said--
"Take them to your wife with my compliments, and tell her that Iwish her joy of an honest husband."
Gordon took the unexpected favor, and without speaking, turnedhastily 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 herthe 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 immediatefuture!"
"Do not say ill, dear husband--only seeming ill; if we think rightand do right. When God makes our future, all is good; the ill is ofour own procuring."
"Right, Mary. I see that truth as clear as if a sunbeam shone uponit."
"Time, Faith, Energy!" murmured Gordon to himself, as he lay awakethat night, thinking of the future. Before losing himself in sleep,he had made up his mind to go to another creditor for a smallamount, and see if he could not make a similar arrangement with himto the one entered into with the grocer. The man demurred a little,and then said he would take time to think about it. When Gordoncalled again, he declined the proposition, and said he had sold hisgoods 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 asignificance that fretted the mind of Gordon.
"He'll wait until he sees me getting a little ahead, and then pouncedown upon me like a hawk upon his prey."
Over this idea the reformed man worried himself, and went home tohis wife unhappy and dispirited.
"I owe at least a hundred and fifty or two hundred dollars," hesaid; "and there is no hope of inducing all of those to whom moneyis due to wait until we can pay them with comfort to ourselves. Ishall 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 themhas 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 goand make the same offer, which he declines, preferring to wait forthe money. There is nothing so really discouraging in all this, I amsure. If he prefers waiting, let him wait. No doubt it will be thesame to us in the end. As to our getting much ahead or many comfortsaround us until our debts are settled off, we might as well notthink of that. We will feel better to pay what we owe as fast as weearn it; and, more than that, it will put the temptation to distressus in nobody's way. If one man won't let you work out your debt, whyanother will. I've no doubt that two-thirds of your creditors willbe glad to avail themselves of the offer."
Thus re-assured, Gordon felt better. On the next day he tried athird party to whom he owed fifteen dollars. This man happened tokeep a retail grocery and liquor store. That is, he had a bar at onecounter, and sold groceries at the other. Two-thirds of the debt wasfor 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 adecanter.
"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 ofyou, Gordon. I thought you were too fond of a little creaturecomfort."
"I ruined myself and beggared my family by drink, if that is whatyou mean by creature comfort. Poor comfort it was for my wife andchildren, 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 oldscore. Now that I've given up drinking, I want to try and be honestif 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 havetime on my hands, Mr. King."
"Time? That is what some people call money. You want to pay me intime, instead of money, I presume? Rather rich, that, Gordon! Buttime don't pass current, like money, in these diggins, my friend.There are a plenty who come here--and throw it away for nothing. Ican get more than I want."
"I have no wish to throw my time away, nor to pass it upon you formoney, Mr. King. What I want is, to render you some service--inother words, to work for you, if you can give me something to do. Ihave time on my hands unemployed, and I wish to turn it to some goodaccount."
"O, yes. I understand now. Very well, Gordon; I rather think I canmeet your views. Yesterday my barkeeper was sent to prison forgetting into a scrape while drunk, and I want his place supplieduntil he gets out. Come and tend bar for me a couple of weeks, and Iwill 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 theaccursed thing. Neither to drink it myself, nor put it to the lipsof another. No, no, Mr. King, I can't do that. But I will sell yourgroceries for you three days in the week, for four weeks. Part of mytime is already regularly engaged."
"Go off about your business!" said the store-keeper, his face redwith anger at the language of the reformed man, which he was pleasedto consider highly insulting. "I'll see to collecting that bill in adifferent way from that."
By this time Gordon was learning not to be frightened anddiscouraged at every thing. His wife had so often showed him itsfolly, 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 thosehe owed were of the stamp of the two to whom application had lastbeen made. In less than six months he had worked out nearly ahundred dollars of what he owed, and had regular employment thatbrought him in six dollars every week, besides earning, by odd jobsand light porterage, from two to three dollars. His wife rarely leta week go without producing her one or two dollars by needle-work.Little comforts gradually crept in, notwithstanding all their debtswere not yet paid off. This was inevitable.
By the end of twelve months Gordon found himself clear of debt, andin a good situation in a store at five hundred dollars a year.
"So much for 'Time, Faith, Energy,'" he said to himself, as hewalked backwards and forwards, in his comfortable little home, oneevening, thinking of the incidents of the year, and the results thathad followed. "I would not have believed it. Scarcely a twelvemonthhas passed, and here am I, a sober man and out of debt."
"Though still very far from the advanced position in the world youheld a few years ago, and to which you can never more attain," saida desponding voice within him. "A man never has but one chance forattaining ease and competence in this life. If he neglects that, heneed not waste his time in any useless struggles."
"Time, Faith, Energy!" spoke out another voice. "If one year hasdone so much for you, what will not five, ten, or twenty years do?Redouble your energies, have confidence in the future, and time willmake all right."
"I will have faith in time; I will have energy!" responded the manin Gordon, speaking aloud.
From that time Gordon and his wife lived with even stricter economythan before, in order to lay by a little money with which hecould,--at some future time, re-commence his own business, which wasprofitable. There was still only a single shop in town, and that wasthe one owned by his old employer, who had, in fact, built himselfup on his downfall, when he took to drinking and neglecting hisbusiness. On less than a thousand dollars Gordon did not think ofcommencing business. Less than that he knew would make the effort adoubtful one. This amount he expected to save in about five years.
Two years of this time had elapsed, and Gordon had four hundreddollars invested and bearing interest. He still held his situationat five hundred dollars per annum. The only shop yet established inthe town for doing the work for which he was qualified both as ajourneyman and master workman, was that owned and still carried onby his old employer, who had made a good deal of money; but who had,of late, fallen into habits of dissipation and neglected hisbusiness.
One evening, while Gordon was reading at home in his comfortablelittle sitting-room, with his wife beside him engaged with herneedle, and both feeling very contented, there was a rap at thedoor. On opening it Gordon recognized Mr. Evenly, and politelyinvited him to come in. After being seated, his old employer, whoshowed 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 muchcleaner."
"Would you be willing to come to work for me again?" furtherinquired Evenly.
"I don't know that I would. My present situation is permanent, myemployer a very pleasant man, and my work easy."
"Three things that are very desirable, certainly. But I'll tell youwhat I want, and what I will give you. Perhaps we can make abargain. There is no man in town who understands our business betterthan you do. That I am free to admit. Heretofore I have been my ownmanager; but I am satisfied that it will be for my interest to havea competent foreman in my establishment. If I can find one to suitme I will give him liberal wages. You will do exactly; and if youwill take charge of my shop, I will make your wages fifteen dollarsa 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 aconsideration not lightly to be passed by."
"It is not, certainly," remarked Evenly. "Then I may consider itsettled 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 asforeman, from which he had been discharged as a journeyman threeyears before.
Firmly bent upon commencing the business for himself, whenever heshould feel himself able to do so, Gordon continued his frugal modeof living for two years longer, when the amount of his savings,interest and all added, was very nearly fifteen hundred dollars. Thetime had now come for him to take the step he had contemplated forfour years. Evenly received the announcement with undisguisedastonishment. After committing to such competent hands the entiremanufacturing part of his business, he had given himself up more andmore to dissipation. Had it not been for the active and energeticmanner in which the affairs of the shop were conducted by Gordon,every thing would have fallen into disorder. But in a fair ratiowith the neglect of his principal was he efficient as his agent.
"I can't let you go," said Evenly, when Gordon informed him of hisintention to go into business for himself. "If fifteen dollars aweek doesn't satisfy you, you shall have twenty."
"It is not the wages," replied Gordon. "I wish to go into businessfor 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 forhimself, his own would be ruined, and therefore, finding all effortsto dissuade him from his purpose of no avail, he offered to take himin as a partner. But to this came an unexpected objection. Gordonwas averse to such a connection. Being pressed to state the reasonwhy, he frankly said--
"My unwillingness to enter into business with you arises from thefact 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 fitcondition to attend to business. Pardon me for saying this. But youasked for my reason, and I have given it."
Evenly, at first, was angry. But reflection soon came, and then hefelt humiliated as he had never felt before. There was no intentionon the part of Gordon to insult him, nor to triumph over him, butrather 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 freefrom 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 ranksabout the time Gordon did, and who had only got along moderatelywell, passed the establishment of EVENLY & GORDON, and saw thelatter 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 recovermyself, but soon got discouraged, and have ever since plodded alongin a poor way I live, it is true; but you are doing much better thanthat. 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 wiserthan when he asked the question. Whether he will profit by theanswer we cannot tell. Others may, if they will.
THE END.
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