"I knew it would all come out right," said Mrs. Gordon. "I knew a better day was coming. We can live quite comfortably upon five or six dollars a week, and be happier than we have been for years."
When Gordon thought of the past, he did not wonder that tears fell over the face of his wife, even while her lips and eyes were bright with smiles. As the friend had supposed, Gordon was employed to do many errands by the storekeepers in the neighborhood. Some weeks he made five dollars and sometimes six or seven. This went on for a few months, when he began to feel discouraged. The recollection of other and brighter days returned frequently to his mind, and he began ardently to desire an improved external condition, as well for his wife and children as for himself. He wished to restore what had been lost; but saw no immediate prospect of being able to do so. Six dollars a week was the average of his earnings, and it took all this, besides what little his wife earned, to make things tolerably comfortable at home.
Gordon was in a more desponding mood than usual, when he indulged in the complaint with which our story opens. What was said to him changed the tone of his feelings, and inspired him with a spirit of cheerfulness and hope.
"Time, Faith, Energy!" he said to himself, as he walked with a more elastic step. "Yes, these must bring out all right in the end. I will not be so weak as to despond. All is much improved as it is. We are happier and better. Time, Faith, Energy! I will trust in these."
When Gordon opened the door of his humble abode, he found a lad waiting to see him, who arose, and presenting a small piece of paper, said—
"Mr. Blake wishes to know when you can settle this?"
Mr. Blake was a grocer, to whom ten dollars had been owing for a year. He had dunned the poor drunkard for the money until he got tired of so profitless a business, and gave up the account for lost. By some means, it had recently come to his ears that Gordon had signed the pledge.
"Some chance for me yet," he said, and immediately had the bill made out anew, and sent in; not thinking or caring whether it might not be premature for him to do so, and have the effect to discourage the poor man and drive him back to his old habits. What he wanted was his money. It was his due; and he meant to have it if he could get it.
"Tell Mr. Blake that I will pay him as soon as possible. At present it 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. "The moment 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; but now that I am trying to do right, every one to whom I am indebted a dollar 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 that to bear. So don't get discouraged so easily."
The words "Time, Faith, Energy!" came into the mind of Gordon and rebuked him.
"There is sense in what you say, Mary," he replied. "I know I am too easily discouraged. We owe Blake, that is clear; and I suppose he is right in trying to get his money. We can't pay him now; and therefore he can't get it now, do what he will. So we will be no worse for his dunning, if he duns every day. But I hate so to be asked 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 a good 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 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.