Title: Poor and Proud, or the Fortunes of Katy Redburn: a Story for Young Folks
Author: Optic, Oliver, 1822-1897
Language: English
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POOR AND PROUD


OR

THE FORTUNES OF KATY REDBURN


A STORY FOR YOUNG FOLKS


BY

OLIVER OPTIC



  TO
  ALICE MARIE ADAMS,
  This Book
  IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
  BY HER FATHER.



Poor and Proud.



PREFACE.

Bobby Bright and Harry West, whose histories were contained in the last
two volumes of the "Library for Young Folks," were both smart boys. The
author, very grateful for the genial welcome extended to these young
gentlemen, begs leave to introduce to his juvenile friends a smart
girl,--Miss Katy Redburn,--whose fortunes, he hopes, will prove
sufficiently interesting to secure their attention.

If any of my adult readers are disposed to accuse me of being a little
extravagant, I fear I shall have to let the case go by default; but I
shall plead, in extenuation, that I have tried to be reasonable, even
where a few grains of the romantic element were introduced; for Baron
Munchausen and Sindbad the Sailor were standard works on my shelf in
boyhood, and I may possibly have imbibed some of their peculiar spirit.
But I feel a lively satisfaction in the reflection that, whatever
exaggerations the critic may decide I have perpetrated in this volume,
I have made the success of Katy Redburn depend upon her good
principles, her politeness, her determined perseverance, and her
overcoming that foolish pride which is a snare to the feet. In these
respects she is a worthy exemplar for the young.

Pride and poverty do not seem to agree with each other; but there is a
pride which is not irreconcilable with the humblest station. This pride
of character finds an illustration in the life of my heroine.

Thanking my young friends again for the pleasant reception given to my
former books I submit this volume in the hope that Katy Redburn will
prove to be a worthy and agreeable companion for their leisure hours.

WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
  DORCHESTER, Sept. 29, 1858.


CONTENTS.

CHAPTER.

     I. Katy Redburn and Others Are Introduced
    II. The History of the Silver Watch
   III. Katy and Master Simon Sneed Visit the Pawnbroker's Shop
    IV. Katy Matures a Magnificent Scheme
     V. Katy Visits Mrs. Gordon, and Gets Rid of Dr. Flynch
    VI. Katy Prepares a Stock of Merchandise
   VII. Katy Makes a Large Sale
  VIII. Katy Sells Out, and Visits the Mayor
    IX. Katy talks with the Mayor, and Recovers the Watch
     X. Katy, in Distress, finds a Champion
    XI. Katy Meets with Extraordinary Success
   XII. Katy Pays Her Debts, and Tommy Goes to Sea
  XIII. Katy Employs an Assistant
   XIV. Master Simon Sneed Makes a Mistake
    XV. Katy Gets a Letter from Liverpool
   XVI. Ann Grippen Plays Tricks upon Travelers
  XVII. The Sun Sets, and the Night Comes On
 XVIII. Katy Struggles Bravely through a Series of Trials
   XIX. Katy Resorts to a Loan
    XX. Mrs. Gordon Feels Faint, and Katy Enters a New Sphere
   XXI. Katy Goes to Church, and Has a Birthday Party



POOR AND PROUD; OR, THE FORTUNES OF KATY REDBURN.



CHAPTER I.

KATY REDBURN AND OTHERS ARE INTRODUCED.

"Give me a flounder, Johnny?" said a little girl of eleven, dressed in
coarse and ragged garments, as she stooped down and looked into the
basket of the dirty young fisherman, who sat with his legs hanging over
the edge of the pier.

"I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out
of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round here tryin' to
hook my fish."

"You hooked 'em," said another juvenile angler who sat on the capsill
of the pier by Johnny's side.

"Who says I hooked 'em?" blustered Johnny, whose little dirty paws
involuntarily assumed the form of a pair of fists, scientifically
disposed and ready to be the instruments of the owner's vengeance upon
the traducer of his character.

"I say so," added Tommy Howard, who did not seem to be at all alarmed
at the warlike attitude of his fellow-angler.

"Say it again, and I'll smash your head," continued Johnny, jumping up
from his seat.

"Didn't you hear me? Once is enough."

Tommy coolly hauled up a large flounder at that moment, and threw the
fish into his basket. It was rather refreshing to see how regardless he
was of that pair of menacing fists.

"Jest you say that once more, and see what I'll do," persisted Johnny.

"I won't do it."

"You dasn't say it again."

"Perhaps I dasn't; at any rate, I shan't."

"Do you mean to say I hooked them fish?" exclaimed Johnny, desperately,
for it seemed as though he must do something to vindicate his injured
honor.

"That's just what I did say."

But Tommy was so confoundedly cool that his fellow-angler had some
doubts about the expediency of "pitching into him." Probably a vision
of defeat flashed through his excited brain and discretion seemed the
better part of valor. Yet he was not disposed to abandon his position,
and advanced a pace or two toward his provoking companion; a movement
which, to an unpracticed eye, would indicate a purpose to do something.

"Don't fight, Tommy," said the little ragged girl.

"I don't mean to fight, Katy,"--Johnny, at these words, assumed an
artistic attitude, ready to strike the first blow,--"only if Johnny
hits me, I shall knock him into the middle of next week."

Johnny did not strike. He was a prudent young man.

"Don't fight, Johnny," repeated the girl, turning to the excited
aspirant for the honors of the ring.

"Do you suppose I'll let him tell me I hooked them fish?" blustered
Johnny.

"He didn't mean anything."

"Yes, I did," interposed Tommy. "He caught 'em on a hook; so of course
he hooked em. I hooked mine too."

"Is that what you meant?" asked Johnny, a broad grin overspreading his
dirty face, and his fists suddenly expanding into dirty paws again.

"That's just what I meant; and your skull is as thick as a two-inch
plank, or you would have seen what I meant."

"I see now."

Johnny was not disposed to resent this last insinuation about the
solidity of his cranium. He was evidently too glad to get out of the
scrape without a broken head or a bloody nose. Johnny was a bully, and
he had a bully's reputation to maintain; but he never fought when the
odds were against him; and he had a congressman's skill in backing out
before the water got too hot. On the whole, he rather enjoyed the pun;
and he had the condescension to laugh heartily, though somewhat
unnaturally, at the jest.

"Will you give me a flounder, Tommy?" said the little ragged girl, as
she glanced into his well-filled basket.

"What do you want of him, Katy?" asked Tommy turning round and gazing
up into her sad, pale face.

Katy hesitated; her bosom heaved, and her lips compressed, as though
she feared to answer the question.

"To eat," she replied, at last, in a husky tone.

"What's the matter, Katy?"

The face of the child seemed to wear a load of care and anxiety, and as
the young fisherman gazed a tear started from her eye, and slid down
her cheek. Tommy's heart melted as he saw this exhibition of sorrow. He
wondered what could ail her.

"My mother is sick," replied Katy, dashing away the tell-tale tear.

"I know that; but what do you want of flounders?"

"We have nothing to eat now," said Katy, bursting into tears. "Mother
has not been able to do any work for more than three months: and we
haven't got any money now. It's all gone. I haven't had any breakfast
to-day."

"Take 'em all, Katy!" exclaimed Tommy, jumping up from his seat on the
capsill of the pier. "How will you carry them? Here, I will string 'em
for you."

Tommy was all energy now, and thrust his hands down into the depths of
his pockets in search of a piece of twine. Those repositories of small
stores did not contain a string, however; but mixed up with a piece of
cord, a slate pencil, an iron hinge, two marbles, a brass ring, and six
inches of stovepipe chain, were two cents, which the owner thereof
carefully picked out of the heap of miscellaneous articles and thrust
them into the hand of Katy.

"Here, take them; and as you go by the grocery at the corner of the
court, buy a two-cent roll," whispered he. "Got a bit o' string,
Johnny?" he added aloud, as Katy began to protest against taking the
money.

"Hain't got none; but I'll give you a piece of my fish line, if you
want," replied the bully, who was now unusually obliging.

"There's a piece of spunyarn, that's just the thing I want;" and Tommy
ran half way up the pier to the bridge, picked up the line, and
commenced stringing the flounders on it.

"I don't want them all, Tommy; only give me two or three. I never shall
forget you, Tommy," said Katy, her eyes suffused with tears of
gratitude.

"I'm sorry things go so bad with you, Katy, and I wish I could do
something more for you."

"I don't want anything more. Don't put any more on the string. There's
six. We can't eat any more."

"Well, then, I'll bring you some more to-morrow," replied Tommy, as he
handed her the string of fish. "Stop a minute; here's a first-rate
tom-cod; let me put him on;" and he took the string and added the fish
to his gift.

"I never shall forget you, Tommy; I shall only borrow the two cents; I
will pay you again some time," said she, in a low tone, so that Johnny
could not hear her.

"Never mind 'em, Katy. Don't go hungry again for a minute. Come to me,
and I'll help you to something or other."

"Thank you, Tommy;" and with a lighter heart than she had brought with
her, she hastened up the pier, no doubt anticipating a rich feast from
the string of fish.

The pier of the new South Boston bridge was then, as now, a favorite
resort for juvenile fishermen. Flounders, tom-cod, and eels, to say
nothing of an occasional sculpin, which boys still persist in calling
"crahpies," or "crahooners," used to furnish abundant sport to a motley
group of youngsters wherein the sons of merchants mingled
democratically with the dirty, ragged children of the "Ten-footers" in
the vicinity. The pier was neutral ground, and Frederic Augustus made a
friend of Michael or Dennis, and probably neither was much damaged by
this free companionship; for Michael or Dennis often proves to be more
of a gentleman in his rags and dirty face than Frederic Augustus in his
broadcloth and white linen.

Katy walked as fast as her little feet would carry her, till she came
to a court leading out of Essex Street. The bells were ringing for one
o'clock as she entered the grocery at the corner and purchased the
two-cent roll which Tommy Howard's bounty enabled her to add to her
feast. Elated with the success of her mission, she quickened her pace
up the court to a run, rushed into the house and up-stairs to her
mother's room with as much enthusiasm as though she had found a bag of
gold, instead of having obtained a very simple dinner.

"O, mother, I've got a lot of flounders and some bread for you!"
exclaimed she, as she bolted into the room.

"Then you have money," said a cold voice in the chamber; and Katy
perceived, standing near the bed on which her mother lay, a man who was
no stranger to her.

It was Dr. Flynch; but let not my young reader make a mistake. He was
no good Samaritan, who had come to pour oil and wine into the wounds of
the poor sick woman; not even a physician, who had come to give
medicine for a fee, to restore her to health and strength. It is true
he was called a doctor, and he had been a doctor, but he did not
practice the healing art now. If he had failed to make a physician, it
was not because his heart was so tender that he could not bear to look
upon pain and suffering. He was the agent of Mrs. Gordon, a widow lady,
who owned the house in which Katy's mother lived. He collected her
rents, and transacted all her business; and as far as dollars and cents
were concerned, he had certainly been a faithful servant. Dr. Flynch
was a prudent and discreet man, and did not hurt the feelings of the
good lady who employed him by telling her about the difficulties he
encountered in the discharge of his duty, or by describing the harsh
and even cruel means to which he was sometimes obliged to resort, in
order to obtain the rent of poor tenants.

"Mrs. Redburn," said Dr. Flynch, when he had heard the exclamation of
Katy, "you have told me a falsehood. You said you had no money, not a
cent. Where did you get that roll, child?"

"At the store at the corner of the court," replied Katy, abashed by the
cold dignity of the agent.

"Precisely so, Mrs. Redburn; but you do not buy bread without money.
You have attempted to deceive me. I have pitied you up to the present
time, and indulged you in the non-payment of your rent for over a week
I can do so no longer, for you have told me a falsehood."

"No, sir, I have not," pleaded the sick woman.

"Your child buys bread."

"I did not give her the money."

"Where did you get the money to buy that roll with?" demanded Dr.
Flynch, turning sharply to Katy.

"Tommy Howard gave it to me."

"Who is Tommy Howard?"

"He lives on the other side of the court."

"Very probable that a dirty, ragged boy gave her the money! This is
another false-hood, Mrs. Redburn. I lament that a person in your
situation should have no higher views of Christian morality than to lie
yourself, and teach your child to lie, which is much worse."

The poor woman burst into tears, and protested that she had told the
truth, and nothing but the truth; declaring that Katy was a good girl,
that she had eaten nothing that day, and would not tell a lie. Dr.
Flynch was a man of method, and when a tenant did not pay the rent, it
was his purpose to get rid of that tenant in the quietest way possible.
In the present case there was a difficulty, and public opinion would
not justify him in turning a sick woman out of the house; but if she
lied, had money concealed, and would not pay her rent, it would alter
the matter. As he wished to believe this was the case, he had no
difficulty in convincing himself, and thus quieting his poor apology
for a conscience.

Besides being a man of method, Dr. Flynch was a man of upright walk and
conversation; at least, he passed for such with those who did not know
anything about him. If Mrs. Gordon should happen to hear that he had
turned out the sick woman, he could then inform her how feelingly he
had pointed out to her the wickedness of her conduct, which he thought
would sound exceedingly well.

"Mrs. Redburn," he continued, "I will give you till this time to-morrow
to get out of the house; if you are not gone then, I shall be under the
painful necessity of removing your goods into the street. Good
morning;" and Dr. Flynch turned upon his heel, and walked out of the
room.

"My poor child! what will become of us?" sobbed the sick woman, as she
grasped Katy's hand, and pressed it to her bosom with convulsive energy.

"Don't cry, mother; something can be done. I will go and see Mrs.
Gordon, and beg her to let you stay here."

"You must not do that; Dr. Flynch told me, if I troubled her about the
house, I should not stay in it another minute, even if I paid the rent."

"He is a bad man, mother; and I don't believe Mrs. Gordon knows what he
does here."

"There is one thing more we can do, Katy," continued Mrs. Redburn,
wiping away her tears, and taking from under her pillow a heavy silver
watch. "This was your father's; but we must sell it now. It is all we
have left."

"I should hate to have that sold, mother."

"We must sell it, or pawn it."

"We will pawn it then."

"How shall we do it? I have not strength to rise, and they will cheat
you if you offer it."

"I will tell you what I can do, mother; I will get Simon Sneed to go
with me to the pawnbroker's shop. He is very kind to me, and I know he
will. He comes home to dinner at two o-clock."

This plan was agreed to, and Katy then went to work to clean and cook
the flounders.



CHAPTER II.

THE HISTORY OF THE SILVER WATCH.

Katy Redburn was only eleven years old, and not a very accomplished
cook; but as the children learn faster in the homes of the poor than in
the dwellings of the rich, she had a very tolerable idea of the
management of a frying-pan. The operation of cleaning the flounders was
the greatest trial, for the skin of the fish has to be removed. She cut
her fingers with the knife, and scratched and pricked her hands with
the sharp bones; but she was resolute, and finally accomplished the
task to her entire satisfaction. An occasional direction from her
mother enabled her to cook the fish properly, and dinner was ready.
There were still a few small stores left in the closet, and Katy made a
cup of tea for her mother, and with it placed the delicate little
flounder by the side of the bed. The invalid had no appetite, but to
please Katy she ate a portion of the fish and bread though it was very
hard work for her to do so. The little girl, gladdened by this unwonted
sight, made a hearty meal, without a thought of the trials and sorrows
which the future might have in store for them.

When she had put away the dishes, and placed everything in order, she
washed herself, combed her hair, sewed up a great rent in her dress,
and otherwise attempted to make herself as tidy as possible for the
mission she was about to undertake.

"It is not time for you to go yet, Katy; and before the watch is
carried off, I want to tell you something about your father, that you
may learn to prize it as I do."

Katy seated herself on the side of the bed, for she was very anxious to
hear more about her father than she already knew. She had often asked
her mother about him, but she had generally evaded her questions, and
did not seem willing to tell her all she knew. She thought there was
some secret connected with his history, and with a child's curiosity
she was eager to have the mystery unfolded. But it was no great secret,
after all only a painful history, which her sensitive mother did not
like to rehearse. Mrs. Redburn handed the watch to Katy, and asked her
to look upon the back of it.

"Yes, mother, I have often seen those words on there--'All for the
Best.' What do they mean?" said Katy.

"This watch was given to your father by my father," replied Mrs.
Redburn, with a deep sigh, for the words seemed to recall happy
memories of the past.

"Who was your father?" asked the attentive little girl.

"His name was Matthew Guthrie. He was a merchant in Liverpool, England,
where I was born."

"A merchant, mother? Then he was a rich man, and lived in a great
house, and had plenty of servants."

"He was rich, and lived in good style. One day there came a young man
in great distress to his counting-room. He was a clerk, and had been
sent by his employer in Manchester to pay a large sum of money to my
father. After leaving the train, he had entered an ale-house, where he
had been robbed of the remittance. He had been imprudent, but instead
of running away, he went directly to my father, and informed him of his
misfortune. The young man felt that he was ruined, but he said he was
determined not to leave Liverpool till he had found the money. He was
sure he knew the man who had robbed him, and my father procured the
services of several policemen to assist him in his search. All that day
and all that night, attended by policemen, he visited the resorts of
vice and crime, and his perseverance was rewarded with success. He
found the man, and the money was recovered. My father was so well
pleased with the energy of the young man, that he gave him a situation
in his counting room. That young man was John Redburn, your father. My
father gave him a much larger salary than he had been receiving before,
so that his misfortune in losing the money proved to be a piece of good
fortune to him, for it procured him a much better situation. The new
clerk performed his duties very faithfully, and at the end of a year my
father presented him this watch, with the motto, 'All for the Best,' in
allusion to the manner in which he had obtained his situation."

"But how came you here, mother, if your father was rich, and lived in a
fine house? You are very poor now;" asked Katy, who feared that the
mystery was yet to come.

Mrs. Redburn burst into tears, and covered her face with her hands, as
the pleasant memories of her former happy home rushed through her mind.

"Don't cry, mother; I won't ask you any more questions," said Katy,
grieved to find she had reminded her mother of some unpleasant thing.

"It was all my own fault, Katy. I am here poor and wretched, because I
disobeyed my father; because I did what he desired me not to do. I will
tell you all about it, Katy. I became acquainted with the new clerk,
John Redburn, and the result of our acquaintance was, that we were
married in about a year. We ran away from home; for my father, however
much he liked John as a clerk, was not willing that he should be my
husband. He forbade John's coming to our house, and forbade my seeing
him. I disobeyed him. We were married, and John was discharged. My
father refused to see me again."

"That was cruel," interposed Katy

"My father was right, and I have always regretted that I disobeyed him.
We came to America, and your father procured a situation in New York,
where you were born, about a year after we arrived. For three years we
got along very well. I wish I could stop here, Katy, for the rest of
the story is very sad."

"Don't tell me any more, mother, it makes you feel so bad, I would
rather not hear it. I know now why you value the watch so much, and I
hope we shall be able to get it back again."

"I fear not. But you must hear the rest of this sad story."

Mrs. Redburn continued the narrative, though tears blinded her eyes,
and sobs chocked her utterance, as she told of the struggle she had had
with poverty and want. Her husband had done very well in New York; and,
gay and light-hearted in the midst of his prosperity, his habits had
been gradually growing worse and worse, till he lost his situation, and
became a common sot. The poor wife had then been compelled to toil for
her own support and that of her child; and having been brought up in
luxury and ease, it was a dreadful task to her.

John obtained another situation, but soon lost it. He was a
good-hearted man when he had not been drinking, and keenly felt the
disgrace and misery he was heaping upon himself and his unhappy wife.
Once he had the resolution to abandon the cup, fully determined to
redeem his lost character, and make his family happy again. The better
to accomplish this, he removed to Boston, where he obtained a good
situation, and for more than a year he adhered to his resolution. Mrs.
Redburn was happy again and tremblingly hoped that the clouds of
darkness had forever passed away.

The evil time came again, and John Redburn sank down lower than ever
before. His wife lost all hope of him, and struggled, with the courage
of a hero and the fortitude of a martyr, against the adverse tide that
set against her. She was fortunate in obtaining plenty of sewing, and
was able to support herself and child very well; but her husband, now
lost to all sense of decency, contrived to obtain, from time to time, a
portion of her hard earnings. She could never have believed that John
Redburn would come to this; for, as a clerk in her father's counting
room, he had been all that was good and noble; but there he was a
miserable sot, lost to himself, to his family, and the world.

One morning in winter he was brought home to her dead. He had died in
the watch-house of delirium tremens. He was buried, and peace, if not
hope, settled on the brow of the broken-hearted wife.

Year after year Mrs. Redburn struggled on, often with feeble hands and
fainting heart, to earn a subsistence for herself and Katy. She had
been bred in opulence, and her wants were not so few and simple as the
wants of those who have never enjoyed the luxury of a soft couch and a
well-supplied table. She had never learned that calculating economy
which provides a great deal with very small means.

Hence it was much harder for her to support herself and child, than it
would have been for one who had been brought up in a hovel.

She had done very well, however, until, a few months before our story
opens, she had been taken sick, and was no longer able to work. Her
disease was an affection of the spine, which was at times very painful,
and confined her to the bed.

"But where is your father now?" asked Katy, when her mother had
finished the narrative.

"I do not know; if he is alive, he probably lives in Liverpool."

"Why don't you write a letter to him?"

"I have done so several times, but have never received any reply. I
wrote shortly after your father died, giving an account of my
situation. I am sure my father never could have got my letter, or he
would have answered me. I know he would not let me suffer here in woe
and want, if he were aware of my condition."

"Why don't you write again?"

"It is useless."

"Let me write, mother. I will call him dear grandfather, and I am sure
he will send you some money then: perhaps he will send for us to go to
Liverpool, and live in his great house, and have servants to wait upon
us."

"Alas, my child, I have given up all hope of ever seeing him again in
this world. In my letters I confessed my fault, and begged his
forgiveness. He cannot be alive, or I am sure my last letters would
have melted his heart."

"Haven't you any brothers and sisters, mother?"

"I had one sister; and I have written several letters to her, but with
no better success. They may be all dead. I fear they are."

"And your mother?"

"She died when I was young. I know Jane would have answered my letters
if she had received them."

"She was your sister?"

"Yes; she must be dead; and I suppose my father's property must be in
the hands of strangers, covering their floors with soft carpets, and
their tables with nice food, while I lie here in misery, and my poor
child actually suffers from hunger;" and the afflicted mother clasped
her daughter in her arms, and wept as though her heart would burst.

"Don't cry, mother. I was not very hungry. We have had enough to eat
till to-day. I am going to take care of you now, you have taken care of
me so long," replied Katy, as she wiped away the tears that flowed down
her mother's wan cheek.

"What can you do, poor child?"

"I can do a great many things; I am sure I can earn money enough to
support us both."

"It is hard to think how much I have suffered, and how much of woe
there may be in the future for me," sobbed Mrs. Redburn.

"Don't cry, mother. You know what it says on the watch--'All for the
Best.' Who knows but that all your sorrows are for the best?"

"I hope they are; I will try to think they are. But it is time for you
to go. Pawn the watch for as much as you can; and I trust that some
fortunate event will enable us to redeem it."

Katy took the watch, smoothed down her hair again, put on her worn-out
bonnet, and left the house.



CHAPTER III.

KATY AND MASTER SIMON SNEED VISIT THE PAWNBROKER'S SHOP.

The court in which Katy lived had once been the abode of many very
respectable families, to use a popular word, for respectable does not
always mean worthy of respect on account of one's virtues, but worthy
of respect on account of one's lands, houses, and money. In the former
sense it was still occupied by very respectable families, though none
of them possessed much of the "goods that perish in the using" Mrs.
Redburn, the seamstress, was very respectable; Mrs. Colvin, the
washer-woman, was very respectable, so were Mrs. Howard, the tailoress,
Mr. Brown, the lumper, and Mr. Sneed, the mason.

Katy's mother lived in a small house, with three other families. She
occupied two rooms, for which she paid four dollars a month, the amount
of rent now due and unpaid. Dr. Flynch took a great deal of pleasure in
telling Mrs. Redburn how his humanity and his regard for the welfare of
the poor had induced him to fix the rent at so cheap a rate; but he
always finished by assuring her that this sum must be promptly paid,
and that no excuses could ever have any weight.

The next house to Mrs. Redburn was tenanted by Mr. Sneed, the mason. I
don't know whether I ought to say that Mr. Sneed had a son, or that
Master Simon Sneed had a father, being at a loss to determine which was
the more important personage of the two; but I am not going to say
anything against either of them, for the father was a very honest mason
and the son was a very nice young man.

Katy knocked at the door of this house, and inquired for Master Simon
Sneed. She was informed that he had not yet finished his dinner; and
she decided to wait in the court till he made his appearance. Seating
herself on the door stone, she permitted her mind to wander back to the
narrative her mother had related to her. She glanced at her coarse
clothes, and could hardly believe that her grandfather was a rich
merchant, and lived in a fine house. How nice it would be if she could
only find the old gentleman! He could not be cross to her; he would
give her all the money she could spend, and make a great lady of her.

"Pooh! what a fool I am to think of such a thing!" exclaimed she
impatiently, as she rose from the door stone. "I am a beggar, and what
right have I to think of being a fine lady, while my poor sick mother
has nothing to eat and drink? It is very hard to be so poor, but I
suppose it is all for the best."

"Do you want me, Katy?" said a voice from the door, which Katy
recognized as that of Master Simon Sneed.

"I want to see you very much," replied Katy.

"Wait a moment, and I will join you."

And in a moment Master Simon Sneed did join her; but he is so much of a
curiosity, and so much of a character, that I must stop to tell my
young readers all about him.

Master Simon Sneed was about fifteen years old, and tall enough to have
been two years older. He was very slim, and held his head very
straight. In 1843, the period of which I write, it was the fashion for
gentlemen to wear straps upon their pantaloons; and accordingly Master
Simon Sneed wore straps on his pantaloons, though, it is true, the boys
in the street used to laugh and hoot at him for doing so; but they were
very ill-mannered boys, and could not appreciate the dignity of him
they insulted.

Master Sneed's garments were not of the finest materials, but though he
was a juvenile dandy, it was evident that it required a great deal of
personal labor to make him such.

Clearly those straps were sewed on by himself, and clearly those
cowhide shoes had been thus elaborately polished by no other hands than
his own. In a word, the appearance of his clothes, coarse as was their
texture, and unfashionable as was their cut, indicated the most
scrupulous care. It was plain that he had a fondness for dress, which
his circumstances did not permit him to indulge to any very great
extent.

Master Simon Sneed was a great man in his own estimation; and, as he
had read a great many exciting novels, and had a good command of
language, he talked and acted like a great man. He could hold his own
in conversation with older and wiser persons than himself. He could
astonish almost any person of moderate pretensions by the largeness of
his ideas; and, of late years, his father had not pretended to hold an
argument with him, for Simon always overwhelmed him by the force and
elegance of his rhetoric. He spoke familiarly of great men and great
events.

His business relations--for Master Sneed was a business man--were not
very complicated. According to his own reckoning, he was the chief
person in the employ of Messrs. Sands & Co., wholesale and retail dry
good Washington Street; one who had rendered immense service to the
firm, and one without whom the firm could not possibly get along a
single day; in short, a sort of Atlas, on whose broad shoulders the
vast world of the Messrs. Sands & Co.'s affairs rested. But according
to the reckoning of the firm, and the general understanding of people,
Master Simon was a boy in the store, whose duty it was to make fires,
sweep out, and carry bundles, and, in  consideration of the fact that
he boarded himself to receive two dollars and a half a week for his
services. There was a vast difference between Master Simon Sneed's
estimate of Masters Simon Sneed, and the Messrs. Sands & Co.'s idea of
Master Simon Sneed.

But I beg my young friends not to let anything I have written create a
prejudice against him, for he was really a very kind-hearted young man,
and under certain circumstances would have gone a great way to oblige a
friend. He had always been exceedingly well disposed towards Katy;
perhaps it was because the simple-hearted little girl used to be so
much astonished when he told her about his mercantile relations with
the firm of Sands & Co.; and how he managed all their business for them
after the store was closed at night, and before the front door was
unlocked in the morning; how he went to the bank after immense sums of
money; and how the firm would have to give up business if he should
die, or be obliged to leave them. Katy believed that Master Simon was a
great man, and she wondered how his long, slim arms could accomplish so
much labor, and how his small head could hold such a heap of
magnificent ideas. But Master Simon, notwithstanding his elevated
position in the firm, was condescending to her; he had more than once
done her a favor and had always expressed a lively interest in her
welfare. Therefore she did not scruple to apply to him in the present
emergency.

"Well, Katy, in what manner can I serve you?" inquired Simon, as he
elevated his head, and stood picking his teeth before her.

"I want you to do something for me very much indeed."

"State your business, Katy."

"Dr. Flynch has been to our house to-day, and wants the rent; mother
hasn't any money----"

"And you wish me to lend you the amount?" continued Simon, when Katy
hesitated to reveal the family trouble. "It is really unfortunate,
Katy; it is after bank hours now, and I don't see that I can
accommodate you."

"O, I don't want to borrow the money."

"Ah, you don't."

"I have got a watch here, which belonged to my father; and I want to
pawn it for the money to pay the rent."

"Well, it is rather out of our line of business to lend money on
collateral."

"I don't want you to lend it. I want you to take it to the
pawnbroker's. Mother says I am so young and so small that they might
cheat me; and I thought perhaps, may be, you'd be so kind as to go with
me."

"Go with you!" exclaimed Master Simon, as he eyed her coarse, ill-made
garments.

"I thought you would," replied Katy, with a look of disappointment.

"Well, Katy, I shall be very glad to assist you in this matter, but----"

Master Simon paused, and glanced again at the unfashionable dress of
the suppliant. He was, as he said, willing to aid her; but the idea of
the principal personage of the house of Sands & Co. walking through the
streets of the great city with such an ill-dressed young lady was
absurd, and not to be tolerated. Master Sneed reflected. It is
undoubtedly true that "where there is a will there is a way."

"Where do you wish to go?" demanded he.

"I don't know."

"Do you know where Brattle Street is?"

"I don't, but I can find it."

"Very well; important business in another street requires my personal
attention for a moment, but I will join you in Brattle Street in a
quarter of an hour, and attend you to a pawnbroker's."

"Thank you."

Master Sneed gave her directions so that she could find the street, and
at the end of the court, as she turned one way, he turned the other.

Katy was first at the appointed place of meeting, where Simon soon
joined her; and directing her to follow him, he led the way into
another street, and entered a shop.

"This young person wishes to raise some money on a watch," said Simon,
as he directed the attention of the astonished broker to Katy, who was
scarcely tall enough to be seen over the high counter.

"Let me see it."

Katy handed up the watch, which the money lender opened and carefully
examined. His practised eye soon discovered that the works of the watch
were of the best quality.

"Where did you get this?" asked the broker.

"My mother gave it to me;" and Katy told without reserve the pitiful
story of want and destitution which compelled Mrs. Redburn to part with
the cherished memento of the past.

"I will give you three dollars for the watch," added the broker.

"Come, come, sir," interposed Master Simon, with a smile; "that is a
little too bad. A gentleman of your judgment and discretion has already
assured himself that the article is worth at least twenty."

The broker drew a long breath after this speech, and seemed very much
impressed by the style of the remark. But Katy declared she did not
want to sell the watch, only to pawn it.

"Your story is not a very plausible one," said the broker, "and there
is some risk in taking it."

"I give you my personal assurance, on honor that her story is all
true," added Simon.

The broker burst out into a loud laugh. He could not stand Simon's fine
speeches, and would not take the watch at any rate; so they departed to
find another place, and entered a shop close by.

"Where did you get this?" asked the broker sourly, and Katy repeated
her story, and Simon vouched for its truth.

"It is all a lie," exclaimed the broker, "I will put the watch into my
safe and hand it over to the police."

"This is a most extraordinary proceeding," protested Master Simon.

"Get out of the shop, both of you, or I will hand you over to the
police! You stole the watch, and have the audacity to bring it into the
shop of an honest man. I don't buy stolen goods."

Katy began to cry, as the last hope of redemption from the fangs of Dr.
Flynch fled. Even Master Simon Sneed was alarmed at the idea of being
handed over to the police; but his sense of dignity compelled him to
enter his earnest protest, against the proceeding of the broker, and
even to threaten him with the terrors of the law. The money-lender
repeated his menace, and even went to the door, for the apparent
purpose of putting it into execution.

"Come, Katy, let us go; but I assure you I will represent this outrage
to my friend the mayor, in such a manner that entire justice shall be
done you," whispered Simon. "I cannot remain any longer away from my
business, or I would recover the watch at once."

"O, dear! my poor mother!" sobbed Katy.

"Don't cry, my child; leave it all to me, and run home as fast as you
can. You shall have the watch again, for I will call in the whole
police force of Boston to your aid;" and Master Simon ran away to
attend to the affairs of Sands & Co., which Katy innocently concluded
must be suffering by this time from his absence.

Poor Katy! with a heavy heart she wandered home to tell her mother of
this new misfortune.



CHAPTER IV.

KATY MATURES A MAGNIFICENT SCHEME.

"I suppose it is all for the best, mother," said Katy, when she had
told her sad story of disappointment. "I can't get those words out of
my head, since you have told me about my father. I feel just as though
everything would come out right, it does go very bad just now."

"I am glad you feel so, Katy," added Mrs. Redburn. "It will make you
much better contented with your lot. I have suffered so much that I
cannot help repining a little, though I feel that my destiny and yours
is in the hands of the wise Father, who bringeth good out of evil."

Katy had not yet reached that spirit of meek submission to the will of
Heaven which looks upward in the hour of trial, not doubting that the
all-wise God knows best what is for the good of his children. If she
believed that misfortunes were all for the best, it was only an impulse
derived from the story of her father; a kind of philosophy which was
very convenient for the evil day, because it permitted the sufferer to
lie down and take things easily. It was not a filial trust in the
wisdom and mercy of the heavenly Father that sustained her as the
clouds grew thicker and blacker around her; it was only a cold
indifference, a feeling of the head rather than the heart.

But Mrs. Redburn had been reading the New Testament during Katy's
absence, and a better and purer spirit pervaded her soul than when the
weight of the blow first struck so heavily upon her. She was well
educated, and capable of reasoning in a just manner over her
misfortunes; and those words on the watch seemed to convey a new
meaning to her, as she considered them in the light of Christian
revelation. They were not the basis of a cold philosophy; they assured
her of the paternal care of God. The thought strengthened and revived
her, and when Katy appeared to announce a new trial, she received the
intelligence with calmness, and felt more ready than ever before to
leave her destiny in the hands of Heaven. For an hour she conversed
with Katy on this subject, and succeeded in giving her some new views
in relation to the meaning of the words she had so often repeated that
afternoon.

The poor girl felt as she had never felt before. Upon her devolved the
responsibility of providing for her mother. She had no other friend,
and that day seemed to open a new era in her existence. She felt strong
for the work before her, and resolved to lose not a single day in
putting her resolution into operation. The teachings of her mother,
breathing a spirit of piety and resignation, were grateful to her
heart, and added new strength to her arm.

There was still food enough in the house for Katy's supper, for her
mother could not eat, though she drank a cup of tea. The morning sun
would shine upon them again, bringing another day of want and
wretchedness, but the poor girl banished her fears, trusting for the
morrow to Him who feedeth the hungry raven, and tempereth the wind to
the shorn lamb.

She laid her head upon her pillow that night, not to sleep for many a
weary hour, but to think of the future; not of its sorrows and
treasured ills, but of the golden opportunities it would afford her to
do something for her sick mother. At one o'clock the next day Dr.
Flynch would come for the rent again and her mother could not pay him.
She felt assured he was cold and cruel enough to execute his wicked
threat to turn them out of the house, though her mother had not been
off her bed for many weeks. What could be done? They could not pay the
rent; that was impossible; and she regarded it as just as impossible to
melt the heart of Dr. Flynch. But long before she went to sleep she had
decided what to do.

Worn out with fatigue and anxiety, she did not wake till a late hour;
and her mother, who had kept a weary vigil all night, was glad to see
her sleep so well, and did not arouse her. She was refreshed by her
deep slumbers, and got up feeling like a new creature. She had scarcely
made a fire and put on the tea-kettle, before a knock at the door
startled her. Who could wish to see them in their poverty and
want?--who but some evil person, coming to heap some new grief upon
them? She scarcely had the courage to open the door, but when she did
so, she saw the smiling face of Tommy Howard.

"Good morning, Katy," said he, as he handed her a little basket he had
brought. "Mother sent this over, and wants to know how Mrs. Redburn
does to-day."

"She is about the same. What is in this basket, Tommy?"

"O, you know;" and he turned to run away.

"Stop a minute, Tommy," called Katy. "I want to speak to you."

"Well, what is it?"

"You haven't told anybody about it--have you?"

"About what?"

"What I told you yesterday," replied Katy, hanging her head with shame.

"What do you mean?"

"That we had nothing to eat," and Katy blushed as though it was a crime
to be hungry and have nothing to eat.

"Not a soul--catch me! that is, I hain't told nobody but mother."

"I am sorry you did, even her. My mother is very proud, if she is poor;
but she wasn't always so poor as she is now, for she is the daughter of
a rich merchant."

"You don't say so."

"Yes, I do, Tommy; so please don't say a word about it to anybody but
your mother, and ask her not to mention it."

"Not a word, Katy, mother won't say a word either."

"And sometime I'll tell you all about it. Thank you for what's in the
basket, Tommy."

Without waiting for anything more, the noble, generous boy leaped down
the stairs and passed out at the front door.

"What have you got there, Katy?" asked Mrs. Redburn, as she entered the
room with the basket in her hand.

"Something Mrs. Howard sent us," she replied, as she opened the basket,
and took out a plate of butter and half a dozen hot biscuit, which she
carried to the bedside for her mother's inspection.

"What have you done, my child?" exclaimed the poor woman, a flush
gathering on her pale cheek. "Have you told the neighbors that we have
nothing to eat?"

"I couldn't help telling Tommy when I asked for the flounders
yesterday; he told his mother, but no one else knows it."

"I had rather starve than beg, Katy; but I cannot compel you to do so."

"I will not beg."

"Then let us send those cakes back."

"No, mother; we must not be so proud as that. I think that God sent us
this food through Mrs. Howard, and it would be wicked to reject His
bounty."

"Do as you please, Katy."

"Some time we shall be able to pay her; and that will make it all
right."

Mrs. Redburn could not taste the biscuit, but Katy ate heartily. Her
pride was not inflated by the remembrance of brighter days. All she had
was inherited from her mother.

After breakfast she put on her bonnet and left the house, assuring her
mother she should be back by twelve o'clock. She would not tell her
where she was going, but evaded her questions, and got away as soon as
she could.

As she passed down Washington Street, she stopped before the store of
Sands & Co., for she wanted to see Master Simon Sneed. She did not like
to enter the store; so she waited on the sidewalk for half an hour,
hoping he would come out. As he did not appear, her impatience would
not permit her to lose any more time, and she timidly opened the door,
and inquired of the first salesman she saw if Mister Sneed was in.

"Mister Sneed!" laughed the clerk. "Here, Simon, is one of your
friends. Wait upon her."

Simon, with a flushed cheek, came to the door. He was horrified at the
insinuation of the salesman and wished Katy had been on the other side
of the ocean before she had come there to scandalize him by claiming
his acquaintance.

"What do you want now?" he demanded, rather rudely. "Is it not enough
that I am willing to help you, without your coming here to bring me
into contempt with my associates?"

"I didn't think there was any harm in it. I waited outside for half an
hour, and you didn't come out."

"I can't leave the affairs of this firm to attend to every little----"
and Master Simon's naturally good heart prevented him from uttering the
unkind words that had been on his tongue. "I suppose you come to know
about the watch. I haven't had time to call upon the mayor yet, but I
will do so at dinner time."

"I only wanted to ask you if you know where Mrs. Gordon lives," replied
Katy, very sad at the thought of the mischief she had done.

"She lives in Temple Street, over back of the State House. What do you
want of her?"

"I want to see her. Do you suppose you can get that watch back?"

"I'm certain I can. When my friend the mayor hears my story, you may
depend upon it he will get the watch, or upset all the pawn-brokers'
shops in the city."

"Are you acquainted with the mayor?" asked Katy, timidly, for, since
the adventure of the previous day, she had entertained some slight
doubts in regard to the transcendent abilities of Master Simon Sneed.

"Certainly I am. It was only last week that I had a long and extremely
interesting conversation with his honor on the sidewalk here before the
store."

Katy was satisfied, though Simon did not offer to introduce her to his
distinguished friend. How could she help being satisfied in the face of
such astounding evidence? And Simon's declaration was true, for
whatever faults he had, he never made up a story out of whole cloth. It
was undeniably true that he had conversed with the mayor for ten full
minutes, at the time and place represented. Simon had been sent out to
hold his honor's horse, while a lady with him did some shopping; but
his honor preferred to hold his own horse, and amused himself for the
time in listening to the big talk of the nice young man.

After receiving more explicit directions in regard to the residence of
Mrs. Gordon, Katy took her leave of Simon. Next door to Sands & Co.'s
was the store of a celebrated confectioner. In the window, with sundry
sugar temples, cob houses of braided candy and stacks of cake, was a
great heap of molasses candy; and as Katy paused for an instant to gaze
at the profusion of sweet things, a great thought struck through her
brain.

"Mother used to make molasses candy for me, and I know just how it is
done," said she to herself. "What is the reason I can't make candy and
sell it?"

She walked on towards School Street, up which she had been directed to
turn, full of this idea. She would become a little candy merchant. She
felt sure she could find purchasers enough, if her merchandise only
looked clean and good. It was a great deal better than begging, and she
thought her mother would consent to her making and selling the candy.
What a glorious idea! If she could only make money enough to support
her mother and herself, how happy she should be!

Full of enthusiasm at the idea of accomplishing such a vast project,
she scarcely heeded the crowds of people that thronged the street and
rudely jostled her. If she saw them at all, it was only to regard them
as so many purchasers of molasses candy. With her brain almost reeling
with the immensity and magnificence of her scheme, she reached Temple
Street. After a little search, she found the number of Mrs. Gordon's
residence on a splendid house, whose grandness quite abashed her. But
her courage revived as she thought of the purpose that had brought her
there, and she boldly rang the bell. The door was opened by a servant
man in a white jacket, of whom she inquired if Mrs. Gordon was at home.

"Mrs. Gordon is at home, but we don't trouble her at the call of a
beggar," replied the well-fed servant as he glanced at the homely
apparel of Katy.

"I am not a beggar," she replied, with spirit, her cheek reddening with
indignation at the charge.

"You can't see her; so go about your business."

"Who is it Michael?" said a gentle voice within.

"Only a beggar, Miss Grace; she wants to see Mrs. Gordon," replied the
man; and then a beautiful young lady came to look at her.

"I am not a beggar, ma'am; indeed I am not. I want to see Mrs. Gordon
very much. Please to let me speak to her."

The sweet, pleading tones of the child produced their impression on the
beautiful lady, and she bade her come in. Katy entered, and Michael
told her to stand in the entry while Miss Grace went up-stairs to call
Mrs. Gordon.



CHAPTER V.

KATY VISITS MRS. GORDON, AND GETS RID OF DR. FLYNCH.

Katy gazed with wonder and admiration at the rich furniture of the
house, and thought that perhaps her grandfather lived in as good style
as Mrs. Gordon, and that she might some day go to Liverpool and be an
inmate of just such a palace. The door of the sitting-room was open,
and she had an opportunity to look at all the fine things it contained.
She had never seen anything so luxurious before, and I must say that
she regretted the poverty of her lot, which deprived her mother and
herself of them.

All round the room hung pictures in costly frames. Some of them were
portraits; and one which hung over the mantelpiece directly before her,
soon attracted her attention, and made her forget the soft divans, the
beautiful carpet, and the rich draperies of the windows. It was the
portrait of a lady, and her expression was very like that of her
mother--so like that she could almost believe the picture had been
painted for her mother. Yet that could not be, for the lady was young,
and plump, and rosy, and wore rich laces, and a costly dress. She
seemed to look down upon her from the golden frame with a smile of
satisfaction. There was something roguish in her eye, as though she was
on the point of bursting into a laugh at some mischief she had
perpetrated. O, no! that could not be her mother; she had never seen
her look like that. But there was something that seemed very much like
her; and the more she looked at it, the more the picture fascinated
her. She tried to look at something else, but the lady appeared to have
fixed her gaze upon her, and, whichever way she turned, those laughing
eyes followed her, and brought back her attention to the canvas again.

In vain she attempted to fasten her mind upon some of the other
portraits. There was an elderly gentleman, with a full red face; but
the jealous lady would not let her look at him. She turned round and
looked out the windows at the side of the door; but the spell of the
lady was upon her, and she could not resist the charm. The more she
studied the portrait, the more convinced she became that it looked like
her mother, though there was something about it which was as unlike her
as anything could be. "What makes you keep looking at me?" said Katy to
herself, or rather to the lady on the canvas. "You needn't watch me so
closely; I shall not steal anything."

The lady, however, insisted on watching her, and kept her roguish
glance fixed upon her with a steadiness that began to make her feel
nervous and uneasy; and she was greatly relieved when she heard
footsteps on the stairs.

"Mrs. Gordon will be down in a moment," said Miss Grace, in kind tones.
"Won't you come into this room and sit down?"

Katy thanked her, and Grace led her to a small chair directly under the
mischievous-looking lady in the frame; and she felt a kind of
satisfaction in being placed out of her sight. But it seemed, even
then, as she cast a furtive glance upward, that those roguish eyes were
trying to peer over the picture frame, and get a look at her.

"Well, little girl, what do you wish with me?" said Mrs. Gordon, a
benevolent looking lady, apparently of more than forty years of age,
who now entered the room.

The expression of her countenance was very pleasant, and though there
were a few wrinkles on her brow and she wore a lace cap, Katy came to
the conclusion that the portrait had been taken for her. She wondered
if such a dignified lady could ever have been so roguish as the picture
indicated.

"Please, ma'am," stammered she, rising from her chair, "I come to see
you about the house we live in."

"What is your name, child?"

"Katy Redburn, ma'am."

"In what house do you live in?"

"In one of yours in Colvin Court. Mother is a poor woman, and has been
sick so much this summer that she can't pay the rent."

"I am very sorry for you, my child, but I refer you to my agent, Dr.
Flynch. I do not like to meddle with these things, as I have given him
the whole care of my houses. You will find him a very good man, and one
who will be willing to consider your case. He will extend to you all
the lenity your case requires."

"We have told Dr. Flynch all about it, ma'am and he says if the rent is
not paid by one o'clock to-day, he shall turn us out of the house."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Gordon; and Grace actually jumped out of her
chair with astonishment and indignation.

"Yes, ma'am; that's just what he said," added Katy, satisfied with the
impression she had produced.

"Is your mother ill now?" asked Mrs. Gordon.

"Yes ma'am; she has not been off her bed for twelve weeks."

"What does Dr. Flynch say, my child?"

"He says my mother deceived him; that she told him a falsehood; and
that she had money, when she didn't have a cent."

"It is too bad, mother!" exclaimed Grace.

"Hush, Grace; probably Dr. Flynch knows best, for he certainly would
not turn a poor sick woman out of doors because she did not pay the
rent. There may be, as he says, some deception about it, which he can
penetrate and we cannot."

"There is no deception about it, ma'am," pleaded Katy, much disturbed
by this sudden damper upon her hopes. "She has not got a single cent.
She wouldn't tell a lie, and I wouldn't either."

There was something in the eloquence and earnestness of the child that
deeply impressed the mind of the lady, and she could hardly resist the
conclusion that her agent had, in this instance, made a mistake. But
she had great confidence in Dr. Flynch, and she was very unwilling to
believe that he could be so harsh and cruel as the little girl
represented. She had heard of the tricks of the vicious poor, and while
she was disposed to be very tender of a needy tenant, she must be just
to her agent.

"It is now half-past ten," continued Mrs. Gordon.

"You shall remain here, my child, and I will send Michael down to
Colvin Court to inquire into the situation of your mother. He must be
impartial for he knows nothing about the case."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Katy, with a promptness which assured Grace,
if not her mother, that the little girl was honest.

Mrs. Gordon rang the bell, and when Michael answered the summons, she
attended him to the street door, where she instructed him to call upon
Mrs. Redburn, and also to inquire of the grocer at the corner, and of
her neighbors, what sort of a person she was. The lady returned to the
sitting-room when he had gone, and asked Katy a great many questions
about herself and her mother, and thus nearly an hour was consumed, at
the end of which time Michael returned. Katy had answered all the
lady's questions fairly, though without betraying her family history,
which her mother had cautioned her to keep to herself, that she was
prepared to receive a favorable report from her man.

"Well, Michael, did you find the woman at home?" asked Mrs. Gordon, as
the man presented himself.

"Indeed, I deed, marm."

"What was she doing?"

"She was fast in bed, and told me she hadn't been out of it for twelve
weeks come Saturday."

"What does the grocer say?"

"He says she is a very good woman, but poor and proud. She always paid
him every cent she owed him, and he'd trust her for half he has in his
shop."

"That will do, Michael; you may go;" and the man retired with a
respectful bow.

Katy's face wore a smile of triumph, as Michael was dismissed. Her
mother's truthfulness had been vindicated, and it was the proudest
moment she had known for many a day.

"How long has your mother lived in my house?" asked Mrs. Gordon.

"About three years, ma'am; and she always paid her rent till this
month," replied Katy.

"If she had not, Dr. Flynch would have turned her into the street,"
added Grace; and it was evident the beautiful young lady had no special
regard for that worthy gentleman.

"We have tried hard enough to pay the rent this month," continued Katy;
and she proceeded to tell the story of the silver watch, that had
belonged to her father.

"This is dreadful, mother; let us do something about it," said Grace.
"What a wretch the broker must have been!"

"We will endeavor to get the watch back for her," replied Mrs. Gordon,
as she seated herself at a table and wrote a few lines on a piece of
paper. "Here, my child, is a receipt for your month's rent. When Dr.
Flynch comes for the money, you show him this, and he will be
satisfied;" and she handed her the receipt.

Katy took it, and thanked the good lady, assuring her that her mother
would certainly pay the money as soon as she got well.

"My mother is poor and proud, just as the grocer said, and she don't
ask any one to give her anything. I am going to earn some money myself,
and I hope I shall be able to pay the next month's rent," added Katy,
as she moved towards the door.

"But the watch, mother?" interposed Grace.

"If the little girl will come here this afternoon or to-morrow morning,
we will take her to the mayor who will have the case attended to."

"I will come any time, ma'am."

"The mayor is my friend, and I will call at his house with you this
afternoon at three o'clock."

Katy could not but think the mayor had a great many friends, for there
was Master Simon Sneed, and Mrs. Gordon, and she knew not how many
more. She thanked the lady very warmly for her kindness, and promising
to come at the time stated, she took her leave.

She was followed to the door by Grace, who detained her there.

"Katy, I am sure you are a very good little girl, and here is a dollar
for you. It will buy something good for your mother."

"I thank you very much, Miss Gordon. I am poor, but proud, like my
mother," replied she, as a flush of shame mantled her cheek.

"What a foolish little girl!" laughed Grace. "Take it; you will oblige
me very much by taking it."

"No, ma'am, I can't; my mother wouldn't own me if I should take money
as a gift."

"But you must take it, Katy; I shall be angry if you don't."

The little girl looked up into her pretty eyes beaming with pity and
love; and she could hardly resist the temptation to oblige her by
accepting the gift; but since she had heard the story of her mother's
life, she understood why she was so much prouder than other poor
people; and as she thought of her grandfather in his fine house in the
great city of Liverpool, she felt a little of the same spirit--she too
was poor and proud. Besides, as Grace jingled the two half dollars
together, there was a harmony in the sound that suggested a great heap
of good things for her mother. And there was another powerful
consideration that weighed with great force upon her mind. One of those
half dollars would be a sufficient capital upon which to commence her
candy speculation. It would buy ever so much molasses of the very best
quality. As she thought of this, she was disposed, at least, to
compromise with Miss Grace.

"I cannot accept the money as a gift, but you may lend it to me, if you
please," said Katy, after she had reflected a moment.

"Just as you like," laughed Grace; "but I shall not feel bad if you
never pay me."

"I shall certainly pay it again," persisted the embryo candy merchant.
"I would not take it if I thought I could not."

"Very well; but you must know I think you are a very singular little
girl."

"I am poor and proud; that's all."

Katy took the loan, and with her fancy fired with brilliant
expectations in regard to the candy operation, ran home to her mother
as fast as her feet would carry her. Mrs. Redburn was much displeased
with her at first for what she had done. Her pride revolted at the
thought of begging a favor; but Katy explained the matter so well that
she was satisfied, though nothing was said about the loan she had
obtained.

Punctually at the appointed hour came Dr. Flynch for the rent.

"Have you got the money?" he demanded in his usual bland tones, though
Katy thought she could see a wicked purpose in his little gray eye.

"No, sir; but----"

"That's all I desire to know, Mrs. Redburn," interrupted the agent.
"You must leave the house."

"But, sir, I have something that will do as well as the money," added
the sick woman.

"Have you, indeed?" sneered Dr. Flynch "I think not."

"Will you read that, sir?" said Katy, handing him Mrs. Gordon's receipt.

The agent took the paper, and as he read, the wonted serenity of his
brow was displaced by a dark scowl. His threats had been disregarded,
and he had been reported to his employer.

"So you have been fawning and cringing upon Mrs. Gordon," growled he.
"Probably you have told her more lies than you dared tell me."

"I told her nothing but the truth, and she sent her man down here to
find out all about us, said Katy, smartly.

"Very well; this paper will only delay the matter for a few days; when
I have exposed you to her, she will acquiesce in my views;" and Dr.
Flynch threw down the receipt and left the house.

"We are well rid of him, at any rate," said Katy.

"Now I will get you some dinner, for I must be at Mrs. Gordon's at
three o'clock; and I want to tell you about my plan too, mother."

The active little girl made a cup of tea for her mother, and the dinner
was soon dispatched.



CHAPTER VI.

KATY PREPARES A STOCK OF MERCHANDISE.

Katy had not time then to tell her mother about the candy speculation
she had in view, and she was obliged to wait till her return from
Temple Street. Promptly at the hour, she presented herself at Mrs.
Gordon's, and they went to the house of the mayor; but that
distinguished gentleman was not at home, and the lady promised to go
again with her the next day.

As she walked home, she thought of what she should say to her mother in
favor of the candy project, for she felt sure her mother's pride would
throw many obstacles in her path. The best argument she could think of
was, that the business would be an honest calling and though she was
too proud to beg, she was not too proud to work, or to take a very
humble position among the people around her. She did not look upon the
act of selling candy to the passers-by in the streets as degrading in
itself, and therein she differed very widely from her mother, who had
been brought up in ease and affluence. Before she got home she had made
up her mind what she should say, and how she should defend her plan
from the assaults of pride.

"Now, mother, you shall hear my plan," she continued, after she had
announced the ill success of her visit to the mayor's house. "I am
going into business, and I expect to make a great deal of money."

"Are you, indeed?" replied Mrs. Redburn, smiling at the enthusiasm of
her daughter.

"I am; and you must not be angry with me, or object very much to my
plan."

"Well, what is your plan?"

"I am going to sell candy," said Katy, pausing to notice the effect of
this startling declaration. "You know what nice molasses candy you used
to make for me. Mrs. Sneed and Mrs. Colvin said a great many times that
it was a good deal better than they could buy at the shops."

"But, child, I am not able to make candy now. I cannot get off my bed."

"I will make it; you shall lay there and tell me how. I am sure I can
make it."

"It is very hard work to pull it."

"I won't mind that."

"Suppose you can make it, how will you sell it?" asked Mrs. Redburn,
casting an anxious glance at the enthusiastic little girl.

"O, I shall take a box, and offer it to the folks that pass along the
streets."

"Are you crazy, Katy?" exclaimed the mother, raising her head on the
bed. "Do you think I could permit you to do such a thing?"

"Why not, mother?"

"What a life for a child to lead! Do you think I could let you wander
about the streets exposed to the insults and rude jests of the vicious
and thoughtless? You do not understand what you propose."

"I think I do, mother. I don't see any harm in selling candy to those
who are willing to buy."

"Perhaps there is no harm in the mere act of selling candy; but what a
life for you to lead! It makes me shudder to think of it."

"It is your pride, mother."

"I am thankful I have: some pride left, Katy."

"But mother, we can't be poor and proud. We haven't got any money to
proud with."

"I am proud, I know; I wish I could banish it," replied Mrs. Redburn,
with a deep sigh.

"Let me try the plan, mother, and if I can't get along with it, I will
give it up."

"It will subject you to a great many trials and temptations."

"I can manage them, mother."

"Can you submit to the insults of evil-minded persons?"

"Yes, mother; no decent person would insult me and I don't care for
others. I can pity them, and run away from them. I am not afraid of
anything. Do let me try."

Mrs. Redburn saw that Katy was too earnest to be thwarted; that,
impelled by a noble purpose, she had set her heart upon making the
attempt, and she did not like to disappoint her. It is true, she keenly
felt the degradation of such a life, and even feared that Katy might be
led astray while pursuing such an occupation; but she gave a reluctant
consent, trusting that one or two experiments would disgust her with
the business.

Katy clapped her hands with joy as her mother's scruples gave way, and
she found herself at liberty to carry her plan into execution. It
seemed to her as though she had crossed the threshold of fortune and
had actually entered the great temple. She had an opportunity to
accomplish a great work, and her enthusiasm would not permit her to
doubt in regard to her final success.

"I must begin now, mother, and make all the candy this afternoon, so
that I can commence selling it early to-morrow morning. I will go to
the grocery now and get the molasses."

"Poor child; you have nothing to get it with. We have no money; you did
not think of that."

"Yes, I did, and I have the money to buy the molasses. I borrowed it,"
replied Katy, evincing some confusion.

"You borrowed it? Pray who would lend you money?"

"Miss Grace Gordon."

"Did you borrow it, Katy?" asked Mrs. Redburn, casting a reproachful
glance at her.

"Yes, mother, I did. I would not accept money now, after what you have
said to me. Miss Grace wanted to give it to me; but I told her I could
not take it. She laughed at me, and I said I was poor and proud. She
would make me take it, and said so much, that, at last, I told her if
she would lend it to me, I would take it."

"It was the same as a gift," said Mrs. Redburn, blushing with shame at
the thought of accepting alms.

"No, it wasn't; she may think it was, but I mean to pay her, and I
shall pay her; I know I shall."

"If you can," sighed the proud mother.

"I shall be able to pay her soon, for I mean to sell lots of candy."

"You may be disappointed."

"No: I am sure I shall sell a good deal; I mean to make people buy. I
shall talk up smart to them just as the shopkeepers do; I am going to
tell them what candy it is, and that their little sons and daughters
will like it very much."

"You are beside yourself, Katy. It pains me to hear you talk so. It is
sad to think a child of mine should relish such an employment as that
in which you are going to engage."

"Do you remember the book my Sunday-school teacher gave me last New
Year's day, mother? It was all about false pride; I want you to read
it, mother. We can't afford to be so proud."

"Go and get your molasses. Katy," replied Mrs. Redburn, who could not
but acknowledge the truth of her daughter's remarks.

She had read the book alluded to, and was not willing to confront the
arguments it had put in the mouth of her child. She was conscious that
her pride, which made a humble occupation repulsive to her, was a false
pride. If it could have been carried on in private, it would not have
seemed so galling. For years she had been a recluse from society,
mingling only with her humble neighbors, and with them no more than her
circumstances required. She had labored in solitude, and shunned
observation as much as possible, by carrying her work back and forth in
the evening. Years of hard toil had not familiarized her with the
circumstances of her lot. She tried to be humble and submissive, but
the memory of her early days could not be driven away.

Katy returned in a few minutes with the jug of molasses. She bustled
round and made up a good fire, got the kettle on, and everything in
readiness for the work. Her mother gave her directions how to proceed;
but Katy could impart to her none of her own enthusiasm.

When the molasses had been cooked enough, she was ready to commence the
pulling, which was the most difficult part in the manufacture of her
merchandise. Then she found that her trials had indeed commenced. At
first the sticky mass, in spite of the butter and the flour with which
she had plentifully daubed her hands, was as obstinate as a mule. It
would not work one way or another; now it melted down, and stuck to her
fingers, and then it became as solid as a rock. She fretted some at
these crosses, and as her spirits sank, her mother's rose, for she
thought Katy's resolution would not hold out long enough for her to
complete the experiment. But she underrated the energy of the devoted
girl, who, in the face of every discouragement, stuck to the candy with
as much zeal as the candy stuck to her.

As is almost always the case with those who persevere to the end, Katy
soon won a partial triumph, which gladdened her heart, and gave her
courage to continue her trying labors. She had worked a portion of the
mass into candy--clear, light-colored, inviting candy. Columbus felt no
prouder of his achievement when he had crossed the Atlantic, or,
Napoleon when he had crossed the Alps. She danced for joy as she gazed
upon the clear, straight sticks of candy, as they were arranged in the
pan. It was a great conquest for her; but at what a sacrifice it had
been won! Her little hands, unused to such hard work, were blistered in
a dozen places, and smarted as though they had been scalded with
boiling water. She showed them to her mother, who begged her not to do
any more; but she had too much enthusiasm to be deterred by the smart
of her wounds, and resolutely resumed her labor.

She had scarcely commenced upon the  second mass before she was
interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Howard, her friend Tommy's mother.

"Why, what are you doing, child?" asked the good woman. "I thought you
were all sick, and here you are making candy, as merry as on a feast
day."

"I am making it to sell, Mrs. Howard," replied Katy, proudly.

"Bless me! but you're a queer child! Do you think folks will buy it of
you?"

"I know they will;" and Katy detailed her plan to the interested
neighbor, declaring she was sure she could support her mother and
herself by making and selling candy. "But it is very hard work," she
added; "see how I've blistered my hands."

"Poor child! it's enough to kill you!" exclaimed Mrs. Howard, as she
glanced at the great blisters on Katy's hands.

"I have been trying to make her give up the idea, but she has more
courage than I ever gave her credit for," remarked Mrs. Redburn.

"It's a shame for you to hurt your hands in this manner; but I dare say
that they will soon get hard, like mine, with the labor," replied Mrs.
Howard, as she threw off her hood and rolled up her sleeves. "Here,
child, let me help you."

"You are very kind, ma'am; and I hope I shall be able to do something
for you some time."

"Never you mind that; you are a nice girl, and it does my heart good to
see you trying to help your mother," added the kind woman, as she
detached a large mass of candy, and commenced pulling it with a vigor
that astonished the weak-handed little girl. "You're a jewel and a
blessing, and you're worth a dozen of the fine ladies that are too
proud to lift a finger to keep their bodies from starving. Ah, it's a
dreadful misfortune to be proud."

"To be poor and proud," said Mrs. Redburn.

"You are right, ma'am; and I am glad to see you have none of it here;
for some of your neighbors used to say you were too proud to speak to
them."

Mrs. Redburn made no reply, and permitted her kind neighbor, whose
tongue scarcely ceased to swing for a moment, to continue her remarks
without opposition. She and Katy worked with all their might till the
candy was ready for market, and when the poor invalid poured out her
thanks, she ran off and left them.

The exultation with which Katy regarded her plentiful stock of
merchandise almost caused her to forget her smarting hands; and when
she could no longer keep her eyes open, she went to sleep to dream of
great operations in molasses candy on change next day.



CHAPTER VII.

KATY MAKES A LARGE SALE.

Katy rose the next morning bright and early, and her heart was full of
hope. She felt that she had a great work to perform, and she was going
forth to do it, resolved that no obstacle should turn her back. Her
mother had told her that she would be laughed at, and made fun of; that
thoughtless people would look down upon her with contempt, and that
wicked ones would insult her. She was, therefore, prepared for all
these trials, but she had braced herself up to meet them with courage
and fortitude.

Her mother was sick, and they were actually in a suffering condition.
What right had she to be proud in her poverty? She felt able to support
her mother, and she could find no excuse, if she wished to do so, for
not supporting her. It was her duty, therefore, to sell candy if she
could get money by it; and thus consideration strengthened her heart.

Katy had been to the public school and to the Sunday school until her
mother was taken sick; and though she was only eleven years old, she
had a very good idea of her moral and religious duties. "Honor thy
father and thy mother," the commandment says; and she could think of no
better way to obey the divine precept than to support her mother when
there was no one else upon whom she could rely. Little by little their
earthly possessions had passed away. Mrs. Redburn had never learned how
to save money; and when the day of adversity came, her funds were soon
exhausted. She had no friends to whom she dared reveal her poverty, and
when want came to the door, she was too proud to beg. Hoping for better
days, she had sold most of her best dresses, and those of Katy. The
small sums raised by these sacrifices were soon used up; and when the
daughter could no longer make a decent appearance, she was required to
show herself much more than ever before. Katy did not repine at this,
though her mother did, for their pride, as my young friends have
discovered, was of very different kinds.

Katy did wish she had a little better dress, and a little better bonnet
for her first attempt in the mercantile calling; but there was no help
for it. She had mended her clothes as well as she could, and as they
were clean, she was pretty well satisfied with her personal appearance.
Besides, people would not be half so apt to buy her candy if she were
well dressed, as if she were rather plainly clothed. In short, it was
all for the best.

After breakfast she prepared herself for the duties of the day. Her
heart beat violently with anxiety and expectation, and while she was
placing the candy on the tray, which she had previously covered with
white paper to render her wares the more inviting, her mother gave her
a long lecture on the trials and difficulties in her path, and the
proper way to encounter them.

"Now, my dear child," said Mrs. Redburn, in conclusion "if any evil
person insults you, do not resent it, but run away as fast as you can."

"Shan't I say anything, mother?"

"Not a word."

"But if some naughty boy or girl, no bigger than I am myself, should be
saucy to me, I think I can give them as good as they send."

"Don't do it, Katy."

"They have no business to insult me."

"That is very true; but when you use bad or violent language to them,
you go down to their level."

"But if they begin it?"

"No matter, Katy; if they are unkind and wicked, it is no reason that
you should be unkind and wicked. If you leave them without resenting
their insults, the chances are that they will be ashamed of themselves
before you get out of sight. You need not be low and vile because
others are."

"I guess you are right, mother."

"You know what the Bible says: 'If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he
thirst, give him drink, for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire
on his head.'"

"I won't say a word, mother, whatever they say to me. I'll be as meek
as Moses."

"I hope you will not be gone long," added Mrs. Redburn.

"I have thirty sticks of candy here. I don't think it will take me long
to sell the whole of them. I shall be back by dinner time whether I
sell them or not for you know I must go to Mrs. Gordon again to-day.
Now, good-by, mother, and don't you worry about me, for I will do
everything just as though you were looking at me."

Katy closed the door behind her, and did not see the great tears that
slid down her mother's pale cheek as she departed. It was well she did
not, for it would have made her heart very sad to know all the sorrow
and anxiety that distressed her mother as she saw her going out into
the crowded streets of a great city, to expose herself to a thousand
temptations. She wept long and bitterly in the solitude of her chamber,
and perhaps her wounded pride caused many of her tears to flow. But
better thoughts came at last, and she took up the Bible which lay on
the bed, and read a few passages. Then she prayed to God that he would
be with Katy in the midst of the crowd, and guide her safely through
the perils and temptations that would assail her. She tried to banish
her foolish pride, when she considered her circumstances, she could
almost believe it was a wicked pride; but when she endeavored to be
reconciled to her lot, the thought of her father's fine house, and the
servants that used to wait upon her, came up, and the struggle in her
heart was very severe. In spite of all she had said to Katy about the
disgrace of selling candy in the streets, she could not but be thankful
that the poor girl had none of her foolish pride. She read in the New
Testament about the lowly life which Jesus and the apostles led, and
then asked herself what right she had to be proud. And thus she
struggled through the long hours she remained alone--trying to be
humble, trying to be good and true. Those who labor and struggle as
hard as she did are always the better for it, even though they do not
achieve a perfect triumph over the passions that torment them.

Katy blushed when she met the keeper of the grocery at the corner of
the court, for in spite of all her fine talk about false pride, she had
not entirely banished it from her heart. Some queer ideas came into her
head as she thought what she was doing. What would her grandfather, the
rich Liverpool merchant, say, should he meet her then? Of course he
would not know her; he would be ashamed of her. But she did not permit
such reflections as these to influence her; and as soon as she was
conscious of the nature of her thoughts she banished them.

"I'm going to support my mother, and I have no right to be proud. If I
meet my grandfather, I should like to sell him twenty sticks of candy."

"Hallo, Katy! What are you going to do?" said a voice behind, which she
recognized as that of her friend Tommy Howard.

"I'm going to sell this candy," replied Katy.

"You're a spunky one; mother told me all about it. I should like two
sticks," said Tommy, as he offered her the money.

"Take two, Tommy, and as many more as you like."

"Two is all I want;" and he placed the two cents on the tray.

"No, Tommy, I won't take your money," replied Katy, with a blush, for
she felt ashamed to take his money.

"That's no way to trade," laughed Tommy. "You won't make much, it you
do so. Keep the money and I will keep the candy."

"I can't keep it, Tommy."

"You must; if you don't take the money, I won't take the candy."

"I owe you two cents, Tommy. I will pay you now."

"No, you don't!"

"Please to take them; I shall feel very bad, if you don't."

Tommy Howard looked her in the eye a moment; he saw a tear there. Her
pride was wounded, and he took the two cents from the tray, for he did
not wish to give her pain.

"Now, we are square, Tommy," said Katy, as her face brightened up again.

"Yes, we are, but I don't like it pretty well. One of these days, when
you get out of this scrape, I will let you give me as much candy as you
have a mind to."

This was very obliging of Tommy; and when Katy understood his motive,
she was sorry she had not permitted him to pay for the candy, for she
saw that he did not feel just right about the transaction. It was not
exactly mercantile, but then the heart comes before commerce. As she
walked along, she could not help thinking that her natural generosity
might seriously interfere with the profits of her enterprise. She had a
great many friends; and it became a knotty question for her to decide
whether, if she met any of her school companions, she should give each
of them a stick of candy. She would like to do so very much indeed; but
it was certain she could not afford to pursue such a liberal policy. It
was a hard question, and, hoping she should not meet any of her
schoolmates, she determined to refer it to her mother for settlement.

When she got into Washington Street, she felt that the time for action
had come. Now was the time to sell candy; and yet she did not feel like
asking folks to buy her wares. The night before, as she lay thinking
about her business, it had all seemed very easy to her; but now it was
quite a different thing. No one seemed to take any notice of her, or to
feel the least interest in the great mission she had undertaken. But
Katy was aware that it requires some effort in these days to sell
goods, and she must work; she must ask people to buy her candy.

There was a nice-looking gentleman, with a good-natured face, coming
down the street, and she resolved to make a beginning with him. He
couldn't say much more than no to her, and she placed herself in a
position to accost him. But when he came near enough, her courage all
oozed out, and she let him pass without speaking to him.

"What a fool I am!" exclaimed she to herself when he had passed. "I
shall never do anything in this way. There comes another gentleman who
looks as though he had a sweet tooth; at any rate, he seems as
good-natured as a pound of sugar. I will certainly try him."

Her heart pounded against her ribs as though it had been worked by a
forty-horse engine--poor girl. It was a great undertaking to her; quite
as great as taking a six-story granite warehouse, piling it full of
merchandise from cellar to attic, and announcing himself as ready for
business, to a child of a larger growth. Everything seemed to hang on
the issues of that tremendous moment.

"Buy some candy?" said she, in tremulous tones, her great, swelling
heart almost choking her utterance.

"No, child. I don't want any," replied the gentleman, kindly, as he
glanced at the tray on which the candy had been so invitingly spread.

"It is very nice," stammered Katy; "and perhaps your children at home
would like some, if you do not."

Bravo, Katy! That was very well done, though the gentleman was an old
bachelor, and could not appreciate the full force of your argument.

"Are you sure it is very nice?" asked the gentleman, with a benevolent
smile, when he had laughed heartily at Katy's jumping conclusion.

"I know it is," replied the little candy merchant, very positively.

"Then you may give me six sticks;" and he threw a fourpence on her tray.

Six sticks! Katy was astonished at the magnitude of her first
commercial transaction. Visions of wealth, a fine house, and silk
dresses for her mother and herself, danced through her excited brain,
and she thought that her grandfather, the great Liverpool merchant,
would not have been ashamed of her if he had been present to witness
that magnificent operation.

"Have you any paper to wrap it up in?" asked the gentleman.

Here was an emergency for which Katy had not provided. Her grandest
expectations had not extended beyond the sale of one stick at a time,
and she was not prepared for such a rush of trade. However, she tore
off a piece from one of the white sheets at the bottom of the tray,
wrapped up the six sticks as nicely as she could, and handed them to
the gentleman, who then left her to find another customer.

Katy, elated by her first success, ran home as fast as she could to
procure some more white paper, of which she had a dozen sheets that had
been given her by a friend. It was in the back room, so that she did
not disturb her mother, choosing to astonish her with the whole story
of her success at noon.



CHAPTER VIII.

KATY SELLS OUT AND VISITS THE MAYOR.

Katy reached Washington Street once more. She had lost all her
timidity, and would not have feared to accost the governor, if she had
met him, and request him to purchase a cent's worth of molasses candy.

"Buy some candy?" said she to the first person who passed near her.

"No!" was the prompt and emphatic answer of the gentleman addressed.

"It is very nice," suggested Katy.

"Get out of my may," growled the gentleman, and the little candy
merchant deemed it prudent to heed the command.

She was nettled by this rude reception, and would have been disposed to
resent it, if there had been any way for her to do so. She had not yet
learned to bear up against the misfortunes of trade, and her eye
followed the sour gentleman far down the street. Why should he treat
her in such a rude and unkind manner? What would he say if she should
tell him that her grandfather was a great Liverpool merchant, lived in
a big house, and had lots of servants to wait upon him? She was as good
as he was, any day.

"Give me a stick of candy," said a nice little girl with a silk dress
on, whom a lady was holding by the hand, at the same time placing a
cent on her tray.

Katy started at the words, and reproved herself for her want of
meekness. She might, perhaps, have sold half a dozen sticks of candy
while she had been watching the sour gentleman, and persuading herself
that she had been very badly used. She tore off a piece of paper, in
which she wrapped up the candy for the purchaser, and handed it to her.

"Thank you," said she, as she picked up the copper, and transferred it
to her pocket.

"Your candy looks very nice," added the lady evidently pleased with
Katy's polite manners.

"It is very nice, ma'am."

"Have you sold much to-day?"

"No, ma'am; I have but just come out."

"It looks so good, I will take half a dozen sticks for the children at
home."

"Thank you, ma'am; you are very kind," replied Katy; and her nimble
fingers had soon made a nice little parcel for the lady, who gave her a
fourpence.

Here was another avalanche of good fortune, and the little candy
merchant could hardly believe her senses. At this rate she would soon
become a wholesale dealer in the article.

"Buy some candy?" said she, addressing the next person she met.

"No."

"Buy some candy?" she continued, turning to the next.

"No."

And so she went from one to another, and no one seemed to have the
least relish for molasses candy. She walked till she came to State
Street, and sold only three sticks. She begun to be a little
disheartened, for the success she had met with at the beginning had
raised her anticipations so high that she was not disposed to be
content with moderate sales. While she was standing at the corner of
State Street, waiting impatiently for customers, she saw a man with a
basket of apples enter a store. She crossed the street to observe what
he did in the store, in order, if possible, to get an idea of his mode
of doing business. She saw him offer his apples to the clerks and
others in the shop, and she was surprised and gratified to see that
nearly every person purchased one or more of them. In her heart she
thanked the apple man for the hint he had unconsciously afforded her,
and resolved to profit by his example.

Now that commerce was her business, she was disposed to make it her
study; and as she reasoned over the matter, she came to understand why
she found so few buyers in the streets. Ladies and gentlemen did not
like to be seen eating candy in the street, neither would many of them
want to put it into their pockets, where it would melt and stick to
their clothes. They would eat it in their shops and houses; and with
this new idea she was encouraged to make a new effort. Walking along
till she came to a store where there appeared to be several clerks she
entered.

"Buy some candy?" she said, addressing a salesman near the window, as
she raised up her ware so that he could see them.

The clerk made no reply, but coming round from behind the counter, he
rudely took her arm, opened the door, and pushed her into the street.
Katy's cheek burned with indignation at this unprovoked assault, and
she wished for the power of ten men, that she might punish the
ill-natured fellow as he deserved. But it was all for the best, for, in
pushing her out of the shop, the clerk threw her against a portly
gentleman on the street, whose soft, yielding form alone saved her from
being tumbled into the gutter. He showed no disposition to resent the
assault upon his obesity, and kindly caught her in his arms.

"What is the matter my dear?" said the gentleman, in soothing tones.

"That man pushed me out of the store," replied Katy, bursting into
tears, for she was completely overcome by the indignity that had been
cast upon her.

"Perhaps you didn't behave well."

"I am sure I did. I only asked him to buy some candy: and he shoved me
right out the door, just as though I had been a dog."

"Well, well, don't cry, my dear; you seem to be a very well-behaved
little girl, and I wonder at finding you in such low business."

"My mother is sick, and I am trying to earn  something to support her,"
sobbed Katy, who, with her independent notions of trade in general, and
of the candy trade in particular, would not have revealed this
humiliating truth, except under the severe pressure of a wounded spirit.

"Poor child!" exclaimed the portly gentleman, thrusting his hand deep
down into his pocket, and pulling up a handful of silver. "Here is half
a dollar for you, for I know you tell the truth."

"O, no, sir; I can't take money as a gift."

"Eh?"

The gentleman looked astonished, and attempted to persuade her; but she
steadily protested against receiving his money as a gift.

"You are a proud little girl, my dear."

"I am poor and proud; but I will sell you some candy."

"Well, give me half a dollar's worth."

"I haven't got so much. I have only fourteen cents' worth left."

"Give me that, then."

Katy wrapped up the remainder of her stock in a piece of paper, and
handed it to the gentleman, who in payment threw the half-dollar on the
tray.

"I can't change it."

"Never mind the change;" and the fat gentleman hurried away.

Katy was so utterly astounded to find she had disposed of her entire
stock, that she did not have the presence of mind to follow him, and
the half dollar had to be placed in her treasury. She did not regard it
with so much pride and pleasure as she did the two four-pence, and the
four coppers, for there was something unmercantile about the manner in
which it had come into her possession. She could not feel satisfied
with herself, as she walked towards home, till she had argued the
matter, and effected a compromise between her pride and her poverty.
She had sold candy for the money, and the gentleman had paid her over
three cents a stick--rather above the market value of the article; but
there was no other way to make the transaction correspond with her
ideas of propriety.

Her work was done for the forenoon, though she had plenty of candy at
home. It was now eleven o'clock, and she had not time to sell out
another stock before dinner. As she walked up the street, on her way
home, she encountered Master Simon Sneed, who, with the dignity and
stateliness of a merchant prince, was lugging a huge bundle of goods to
the residence of some customer.

"I am glad to see you, Simon," said Katy. "Have you seen your friend
the mayor?"

"I am sorry to inform you, Katy, that a press of business has prevented
my calling on his honor."

"I am sorry for that. I am afraid I shall never see the watch again."

"Depend upon it, you shall. I pledge you my honor that I will use every
exertion to recover the lost treasure. Just now our firm require the
undivided attention of all in the store."

"I told Mrs. Gordon all about it, and she promised to speak to the
mayor."

"It was unnecessary to trouble her with the matter; my influence with
the mayor will be quite sufficient."

"I dare say it will; but when shall you see him?"

"Very soon, be patient, Katy."

"Mrs. Gordon promised to take me to the mayor to-day, and tell him all
about it."

"Take you to the mayor!" exclaimed Master simon.

"That's what she said."

"You will be afraid of him, and not able to tell your story."

"No, I guess I shan't. I will tell him that I have mentioned the matter
to you."

"Perhaps you had better not; his honor, though we have been quite
intimate, may not remember my name. But I must leave you now, for the
firm gets very uneasy in my absence."

Simon shouldered his bundle again, and moved off, and Katy walked
towards home, wondering why a person of so much importance to the
Messrs. Sands & Co. should be permitted to degrade himself by carrying
bundles. When she got home, she found her mother in a very cheerful
frame of mind, the result of her reading and meditation.

"Well. Katy, you come back with an empty tray have you sold all your
candy?" asked Mrs. Redburn, as she entered the room.

"Yes, mother, every stick. I have brought back sixty-six cents,"
replied Katy, emptying her pocket on the bed.

"Sixty-six cents! But you had only thirty sticks of candy."

"You must not blame me for what I have done, mother; I could not help
it;" and she proceeded to narrate all the particulars of her forenoon's
occupation.

Mrs. Redburn was annoyed at the incident with the fat gentleman; more
so than by the rudeness to which Katy had been subjected. The little
merchant was so elated at her success, that her mother could not find
it in her heart to cast a damper upon her spirits by a single reproach.
Perhaps her morning's reflections had subdued her pride so that she did
not feel disposed to do so.

After dinner Katy hastened at once to Temple Street again. To her great
disappointment she found that Mrs. Gordon and her daughter had been
suddenly called to Baltimore by the death of one of her husband's near
relatives. But the kind lady had not forgotten her, and that was a
great consolation. Michael gave her a note, directed to the mayor,
which he instructed her to deliver that day.

With the assistance of Michael, she found the house of the mayor, and
though her heart beat violently she resolutely rang the bell at the
door.

"Is the mayor in?" asked she of the sleek servant man that answered the
summons.

"Well, suppose he is; what of it?" replied the servant, who could not
possibly have been aware that Katy's grandfather was a rich Liverpool
merchant, or he would have spoken more civilly to her.

"I want to see him."

"He don't see little brats like you," answered the servant, shutting
the door in her face.

Katy was indignant. She wished a dozen things all at once; and among
other things she wished Master Simon Sneed had been there, that he
might report the circumstance to his friend the mayor. What was to be
done? It was mean to treat her in that shabby manner, and she would not
stand it? She would not, that she wouldn't! Grasping the bell handle
with a courageous hand, she gave a pull that must have astonished the
occupants of the servants' hall, and led them to believe that some
distinguished character had certainly come. The sleek man servant
reappeared at the door, ready to make his lowest bow to the great
personage, when he beheld the flashing eye of Katy.

"How dare you ring that bell again?" snarled he.

"I want to see the mayor, I have a note for him from Mrs. Gordon, and I
won't go away till I see him."

"From Mrs. Gordon! Why didn't you say so? You may come in."

Katy entered at this invitation, and the man bade her wait in the hall
till he informed the mayor of her errand. She was not a little pleased
with the victory she had gained, and felt quite equal, after it, to the
feat of facing the chief magistrate of the city. While she stood there,
a little boy having in his hand a stick of molasses candy, with which
he had contrived plentifully to bedaub his face, came out of the
adjoining room, and surveyed her carefully from head to foot. Katy
looked at the candy with attention, for it looked just like one of the
sticks she had sold that forenoon. The little fellow who was not more
than five or six years of age, seemed to have a hearty relish for the
article, and as he turned it over, Katy assured herself that it was a
portion of her stock.

"My pa brought home lots of candy," said the little fellow, after he
had satisfied himself with the survey of Katy's person.

"Do you like it?" asked she, willing to cultivate his acquaintance.

"Don't I, though!"

"Where did your father get it?"

"He bought it of a little girl; she was poor and proud," replied the
little gentleman, transferring half an inch of the candy to his mouth.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Katy.

But her conversation was interrupted by the return of the servant, who
directed Katy to follow him up-stairs.



CHAPTER IX.

KATY TALKS WITH THE MAYOR, AND RECOVERS THE WATCH.

Katy followed the servant man, whose name was John, up-stairs; but at
the first turn he stopped, and begged her not to mention that he had
shut the door upon her.

"I don't know," said Katy. "I gave you no reason to treat me in that
ugly manner."

"You didn't, but, you see, I thought you was some beggar, coming to
disturb his honor."

"Do I look like a beggar?" asked Katy.

"Indeed you don't; that was a bad blunder of mine. If you mention it, I
shall lose my place."

"Well, I won't say a word then; but I hope you will learn better
manners next time."

"Thank you, miss; and be sure I'll treat you like a lady next time."

John then conducted her up-stairs into a room the walls of which were
almost covered with books. Katy thought what a wise man the mayor must
be, for she had never seen so many books before in her life, and took
it for granted the mayor had read them all. As she entered the
apartment she saw a fat gentleman sitting at the desk, very busy
examining a great pile of papers. When he turned his head, Katy was not
much surprised to see that it was the nice gentleman who had given her
half a dollar for fourteen cents' worth of candy.

"Ah, my dear, is it you!" exclaimed the mayor, as he recognized the
little candy merchant.

"Yes, sir; if you please, it is me," stammered Katy, making her
obeisance, and feeling very mush confused, for it was the first time
she had ever come into the presence of a great man, and she could not
exactly tell whether she ought to get down on her knees, as she had
read that people did when they approached a king, or to remain standing.

"Well my dear, what is your name?" continued the mayor.

"Katy Redburn, if you please, sir," replied Katy with another courtesy.

"I am glad you have come to me with this business, Katy. Mrs. Gordon
speaks very handsomely of you."

"She is very kind, sir."

"You have lost your watch--have you, Katy?"

"My father's watch, if you please, sir," and having gained a little
confidence from the kind tones of the mayor, she proceeded to tell him
the whole story of her adventure in the pawnbroker's shop.

The mayor listened attentively to the artless recital, and promised to
do all in his power to regain the watch.

"Were you alone, Katy, when you went to the pawnbroker's?"

"No, sir; there was one of your friends with me," replied she with a
simple smile.

"One of my friends?"

"Yes, sir; and he promised to see you about it."

"I am afraid you have been imposed upon, Katy."

"No, sir; he has often spoken to me about his friend the mayor."

"But who was he?"

"Master Simon Sneed."

"Sneed? Sneed?" mused the mayor.

"Yes, sir; Master Simon Sneed."

"Master? What is he? A schoolmaster?"

"O, no, sir. Everybody calls him master. He keeps store."

"Sneed? I never heard the name before. Where is his store?"

"In Washington Street. It says Sands & Co. on the sign."

"O, you mean the boy that makes the fires, sweeps out, and does the
errands. I remember him now," said the mayor, laughing heartily at poor
Katy's account of Simon. "I never heard his name before; but he is the
oldest boy of his age I ever saw."

"He was very kind to me."

"No doubt he is a very good boy; but I supposed from your account of
him that he was a member of the firm."

"Master Simon says the firm would not be able to get along without
him," replied Katy, who began to have some doubts whether Simon was so
great a man as he had represented himself to be.

"Master Simon is very kind to stay with them then, and I hope the
Messrs. Sands will properly appreciate his merit. Now, Katy," continued
the mayor, who had been writing while he questioned his visitor, "you
may take this note to the City Hall and deliver it to the city marshal,
he will do all he can to recover your lost treasure."

"Thank you, sir," replied Katy, as she took the note.

"Now, good-by, Katy, and I hope you will always be as good as your
candy is."

"I will try; good-by, sir;" and she left the library and passed
down-stairs.

John let her out very civilly and seemed very grateful to her that she
had not exposed his rudeness. She hastened to the City Hall, sure
almost of recovering the watch, and gladdening her mother with the
sight of it on her return home.

Simon Sneed, after parting with Katy, had felt a little uneasy in
relation to the watch. He was jealous of his own good credit, for he
foresaw that Katy could not very well avoid telling the mayor that he
had been with her at the time of the unfortunate transaction. Besides,
he did not exactly like the idea of Katy's going to the mayor at all.
Katy Redburn going to see the mayor! By and by everybody would know his
honor, and there would be no glory in being acquainted with him!

His conscience seemed to reprove him because he had done nothing
towards the recovery of the watch. What would his friend the mayor say
if Katy should happen to tell him of his neglect?

"Here I am," said Master Simon to himself, as he entered the store, "a
person of influence, enjoying the friendship of the chief magistrate of
the city and have not exerted my influence, or used my powerful friend,
to redress the injury which this poor girl has received. I will correct
my error at once, for if the mayor should happen to invite me to dinner
some time, very likely he would reproach me for my neglect."

Having thus resolved to preserve his credit with the chief magistrate
of the city, there was fortunately a lull in the waves of the Messrs.
Sand & Co.'s affairs which enabled him to be absented for half an hour
without serious injury to their business. He hastened to the
pawnbroker's at which the robbery had been committed.

"I presume you know me, sir?" said Simon.

"I haven't that honor," replied the broker.

"Perhaps you may be able to recall the circumstance of a little girl
presenting herself here with a silver watch."

"Well, I do."

"I was with her."

"Then I suppose you helped her steal it."

"Such an insinuation, sir, is unworthy a gentleman, I have come, sir,
with a benevolent purpose, as I came before. In half an hour the
history of that transaction will be conveyed to the mayor who, allow me
to inform you, is my friend."

"Your friend!" sneered the broker who was not particularly impressed by
the magnificent manners and the magnificent speech of Master Simon.

"The little girl has just gone with a note from Mrs. Gordon of Temple
Street to seek redress of the mayor. I doubt not you will be prosecuted
at once. You have an opportunity to save yourself."

"What do you mean by that, you young puppy?" said the broker, angrily.
"Do you mean to say I stole the watch?"

"By no means; only that you took what did not belong to you," replied
Master Simon, blandly.

"Get out of my shop!"

"Understand me, sir; I come as your friend."

"You are a fool, I believe."

"You have an undoubted right to your opinion, as I have to mine; but if
you do not restore the watch within half an hour, you will be arrested
for stealing--I beg your pardon, for taking what did not belong to you."

There was something in the earnest manner of Simon which arrested the
attention of the broker, in spite of the former's high-flown speech. He
was satisfied that something had been done, and he was disposed to
avoid any unpleasant consequences.

"I spoke to a policeman about the watch," said the man. "I told him I
had it, and if he found that such a watch had been stolen, it could be
found at my shop."

"And if he did not find that watch had been stolen, you meant to keep
it yourself," answered Master Simon, whose earnestness made him forget
for a moment to use his high-flown words.

"Keep a civil tongue in your head," growled the broker. "I notified the
police that I had it; that's enough."

"Perhaps it is I will ask my friend the mayor about it;" and Simon
moved towards the door.

"Stop a moment."

"Can't stop now."

"Here! I will go up to the city marshal with you. May be I made a
mistake in keeping the watch; but if I did, it was only to prevent it
from falling into the hands of some one less scrupulous than myself."

"Do I look like a thief?" asked Master Simon, indignantly.

"It don't do to judge by appearances," replied the broker, locking his
shop door, and walking towards the City Hall with Simon. "There are
some very respectable thieves about."

Master Simon Sneed was satisfied with this explanation. He did not care
to quarrel with any one who acknowledged his respectability. In a few
moments they reached the City Hall, and ascended the stone steps to the
vestibule. As they did so, Katy entered from the opposite door.

"How glad I am to find you, Master Simon!" exclaimed she. "Can you tell
me where the city marshal's office is?"

"Here it is, Katy," replied Simon, pointing to the door. "But what are
you going to do?"

"I have got a note for the city marshal. The mayor gave it to me."

"You hear that, sir," said Master Simon to the broker, with becoming
dignity. "This, Katy, is the man that has your silver watch; and he has
consented to deliver it to the rightful owner."

"Let me see the note," said the broker.

"No, I won't," replied Katy, pretty sharply. "You are a naughty man,
and I won't trust you with it."

"But I will give you, the watch."

"Give it to me, and then I will show you the note," replied Katy, who
was thinking more of getting the precious relic than of having the
broker punished.

The broker took the watch from his pocket and handed it to her, and in
return she produced the mayor's note.

"I suppose there is no need of your delivering this note now?"
continued the broker, with a cunning smile.

"No; I don't care anything about it, now that I have got the watch,"
replied Katy, rejoiced beyond measure to recover the treasure.

"Well, then, I am somewhat acquainted with the marshal, and I will hand
him the note, and explain the circumstances. He will be perfectly
satisfied."

Katy didn't care whether he was satisfied or not, so long as she had
the watch. But the broker entered the marshal's office, and they could
not see him put the note in his pocket.

"I am so glad I got it!" exclaimed Katy.

"I doubt whether you could have recovered it if I had not used my
influence in your favor," remarked Simon, complacently. "I went to his
office, and assured him my friend the mayor had already taken the
matter in hand. I talked pretty severely to him, and he got frightened.
After all, the best way is to use very pointed language to these
fellows."

"I thank you very much, Master Simon, and I hope I shall be able to do
something for you some time."

But Messrs. Sands & Co.'s affairs were suffering, perhaps, and Simon
hastened back to the store, and Katy ran home to cheer her mother with
the sight of the recovered relic.



CHAPTER X.

KATY, IN DISTRESS, FINDS A CHAMPION.

Now that she had recovered the precious watch Katy had nothing to
engage her attention but the business of selling candy. The success
that had attended her forenoon's exertions was gratifying beyond her
expectations, and she felt as though she had already solved the
problem; that she was not only willing but able to support her mother.
She had originated a great idea, and she was proud of it.

Just as soon, therefore, as she had told her mother all about the
recovery of the watch, she prepared another tray of candy, resolved to
sell the whole of it before she returned. Her mother tried to induce
her to stay in the house and rest herself, but her impatience to
realize the fruits of her grand idea would not permit her to remain
inactive a single hour.

"Now, mother, I shall sell all this candy before dark; so don't be
uneasy about me. I am going to make lots of money, and you shall have
everything you want in a few weeks," said Katy, as she put on her
bonnet.

"I wish you would stay at home, and rest yourself; you have done enough
for one day."

"I am not tired a bit, mother; I feel just as if I could walk a hundred
miles."

"That's because you have got a new notion in your head. I am afraid you
will be sick, and then what should we do?"

"O, I shan't get sick; I promise you I won't," replied Katy, as she
left the room.

Unfortunately for the little candy merchant it was Wednesday afternoon,
and as the schools did not keep, there were a great many boys in the
street, and many of them were very rude, naughty boys. When she passed
up the court, some of them called out to her, and asked her where she
was going with all that candy. She took no notice of them, for they
spoke very rudely, and were no friends of hers. Among them was Johnny
Grippen, whose acquaintance the reader made on the pier of South Boston
bridge. This young ruffian led half a dozen others down the court in
pursuit of her, for possibly they were not satisfied with the cavalier
manner in which Katy had treated them.

"Where are you going with all that candy?" repeated the juvenile bully,
when he overtook her in Essex Street.

"I am going to sell it," replied Katy, finding she could not escape.

"Give us a junk, will you?" said Johnny.

"I can't give it away; I am going to sell it, to get money for my
mother."

"Won't you give a feller a piece?"

"I can't now; perhaps I'll give you some another time."

Katy's heart beat violently, for she was very much alarmed, knowing
that Johnny had not followed her for nothing. As she made her firm but
conciliatory reply, she moved on, hoping they would not attempt to
annoy her. It was a vain hope, for Johnny kept close to her side, his
eyes fixed wistfully on the tempting array of sweets she carried.

"Come, don't be stingy, Katy," continued Johnny.

"I don't mean to be; but I don't think I owe you anything," replied
Katy, gathering courage in her desperate situation.

"What do you mean by that?" demanded the little ruffian, as he placed
himself in front of her, and thus prevented her further progress.

"Don't stop me; I'm in a hurry," said Katy.

"Gi' me some candy, then."

"No, I won't!" answered Katy, losing her patience.

"Won't you?"

Johnny made a dive at the tray, with the intention of securing a
portion of the candy; but Katy adroitly dodged the movement, and
turning up a narrow alley way, ran off. Johnny was not to be balked,
and followed her; and then she found she had made a bad mistake in
getting off the street, where there were no passers-by to interfere in
her favor.

"Johnny!" shouted one of the bully's companions. "Johnny, Tom Howard is
coming."

"Let him come!" replied Johnny, doggedly.

He did not half like the insinuation conveyed in the words of his
associates; for to tell him, under the circumstances, that Tommy was
coming, was as much as to say he was afraid of him. Now, as we have
said, Johnny Grippen was a "fighting character," and had a reputation
to maintain. He gloried in the name of being able to whip any boy of
his size in the neighborhood. He was always ready to fight, and had,
perhaps, given some hard knocks in his time; but he sustained his
character rather by his talent for bullying, than by any conquests he
had won. On the whole he was a miserable, contemptible little bruiser
whom no decent boy could love or respect. He talked so big about "black
eyes," "bloody noses" and "smashed heads," that few boys cared to
dispute his title to the honors he had assumed. Probably some who felt
able to contest the palm with him, did not care to dirty their fingers
upon the bullying cub.

Sensible people, whether men or boys, invariably despise the "fighting
character," be he young or old. Nine times out of ten he is both a
knave and a fool, a coward and a bully.

On the other hand, Tommy Howard was one of those hearty, whole-souled
boys, who are the real lions of the playground. He was not a "fighting
character;" and being a sensible boy, he had a hearty contempt for
Johnny Grippen. He was not afraid of him, and though he never went an
inch out of his way to avoid a fight with him, it so happened they had
never fought. He was entirely indifferent to his threats, and had no
great opinion of his courage. Johnny had "stumped" him to fight, and
even taken off his coat and dared him to come; but Tommy would laugh at
him, tell him to put on his coat or he would catch cold; and, contrary
to the general opinion among boys, no one ever thought the less of him
for the true courage he exhibited on these occasions.

Johnny did not like to be told that Tommy was coming, for it reminded
him that, as the king bully of the neighborhood, one of his subjects
was unconquered and rebellious. But Johnny had discretion--and bullies
generally have it. He did not like that cool, independent way of the
refractory vassal; it warned him to be cautious.

"What's the matter, Katy?" asked Tommy, as he came with quick pace up
the court, without deigning to cast even a glance at the ruffian who
menaced her.

"Stand by, fellers, and see fair play, and I'll lick him now," said
Johnny, in a low tone, to his companions.

"He won't let me go," replied Katy, pointing to her assailant.

"Go ahead, Katy; don't mind him."

"Won't you give me some candy?" said Johnny, stepping up before her
again.

"Go ahead, Katy," repeated Tommy, placing himself between her and the
bully. "Don't mind him, Katy."

As she advanced, Johnny pushed forward, and made another dive at the
tray, but Katy's champion caught him by the arm and pulled him away.

"You mind out!" growled the bully, doubling up his fists, and placing
himself in the most approved attitude, in front of the unwhipped vassal.

"Go ahead, Katy; clear out as fast as you can," said Tommy, who, though
his bosom swelled with indignation, still preserved his wonted
coolness; and it was evident to the excited spectators that he did not
intend to "mind out."

"Come on, if you want to fight!" shouted Johnny, brandishing his fists.

"I don't want to fight; but you are a mean, dirty blackguard, or you
wouldn't have treated a girl like that," replied Tommy, standing as
stiff as a stake before the bully.

"Say that again, and I'll black your eye for you."

"Once is enough, if you heard me; but I will tell your father about it."

"Will you? Just say that again."

Somehow, it often happens that bullies want a person to say a thing
over twice, from which we infer that they must be very deaf or very
stupid. Tommy would not repeat the offensive remark, and Johnny's
supporters began to think he was not half so anxious to fight as he
seemed, which was certainly true. I have no doubt, if they had been
alone, he would have found a convenient excuse for retiring from the
field, leaving it unsullied by a black eye or a bloody nose.

My young friends will excuse me from digressing so far as to say that,
in more than a dozen years with boys, in school and out, I have never
heard of such a thing as two boys getting up a fight and having it out
alone. There must be a crowd of bruisers and "scallewags" around, to
keep up the courage of the combatants. Therefore, those who look on are
just as bad as those who fight, for without their presence the fight
could not be carried through.

Tommy Howard had said all he had to say, and was therefore ready to
depart. He turned to do so, and walked several steps down the alley,
though he kept one eye over his shoulder to guard against accidents.

"Hit him, Johnny!" cried one of the  vagabond troops that followed in
the train of the bully.

"He darsen't fight," replied Johnny.

"Nor you, nuther," added another of the supporters.

This was too much for Johnny. It cut him to the quick, and he could not
stand it. If he did not thrash Tommy now, his reputation would be
entirely ruined.

"Darsen't I?" exclaimed he. "Come back here;" but as Tommy did not
come, he ran up behind him, and aimed a blow at the side of his head.

Katy's intrepid defender, who had perhaps read in some Fourth of July
oration that "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," was not to be
surprised, and facing about, he warded off the blow. Johnny's imperiled
reputation rendered him desperate. He had gone too far to recede, and
he went into action with all the energy and skill of a true bruiser.
Tommy was now fully roused, and his blows, which were strictly in
self-defense, fell rapidly and heavily on the head of his assailant.
But I am not going to give my young readers the particulars of the
fight; and I would not have let Tommy engage in such a scene, were it
not to show up Johnny as he was, and finish the portrait of him which I
had outlined; to show the difference between the noble, generous,
brave, and true-hearted boy, and the little bully, whom all my young
friends have seen and despised.

In something less than two minutes, Johnny Grippen, after muttering
"foul play," backed out with bloody nose, as completely whipped, and as
thoroughly "cowed down," as though he had been fighting with a royal
Bengal tiger. His supremacy was at an end, and there was danger that
some other bold fellow might take it into his head to thrash the donkey
after the lion's skin had been stripped from his shoulders.

"If you are satisfied now, I'll go about my business," said Tommy, as
he gazed with mingled pity and contempt upon his crest-fallen assailant.

"You don't fight fair," grumbled Johnny, who could not account for his
defeat in any other way. "If you're a mind to fight fair, I'll try it
again with you some time."

"I don't fight for the fun of it. I only fight when some cowardly bully
like you comes at me, and I can't help myself. When you feel like
whipping me again, you needn't stop to let me know it beforehand. But I
will tell you this much: if you ever put your hand on Katy Redburn, or
meddle with her in any way, I promise to pound you as handsomely as I
know how, fair or foul, the very next time I meet you, if it isn't for
seven years. Just bear that in mind."

Johnny made no reply; he was not in a condition to make a reply, and
the victor in the conquest departed, leaving the bully to explain his
defeat as best he could to his admirers and supporters.

"He did not hurt you--did he?" asked Katy, as Tommy joined her at the
foot of the alley, where she had been anxiously waiting the result of
the encounter.

"Not a bit, Katy. He talks very loud, but he is a coward. I'm sorry I
had to thrash him though I think it will do him good."

"I was afraid he'd hurt you. You were very kind to save me from him,
Tommy. I shall never forget you, as long as I live, and I hope I shall
be able to do something for you one of these days."

"Oh, don't mind that, Katy. He is an ugly fellow, and I wouldn't stand
by and see him insult a girl. But I must go now. I told Johnny if he
ever meddled with you again I should give him some; if he does, just
let me know."

"I hope he won't again," replied Katy, as Tommy moved towards home.

This was Katy's first day in mercantile life; it had been full of
incidents, and she feared her path might be a thorny one. But her light
heart soon triumphed over doubts and fears, and when she reached
Washington Street, she was as enthusiastic as ever, and as ready for a
trade.



CHAPTER XI.

KATY MEETS WITH EXTRAORDINARY SUCCESS.

"Buy some candy?" said Katy to the first gentleman she met.

He did not even deign to glance at her; and five or six attempts to
sell a stick of candy were failures; but when she remembered the
success that had followed her disappointment in the morning, she did
not lose her courage. Finding that people in the street would not buy,
she entered a shop where the clerks seemed to be at leisure, though she
did not do so without thinking of the rude manner in which she had been
ejected from a store in the forenoon.

"Buy some candy?" said she to a good-natured young gentleman, who was
leaning over his counter waiting for a customer.

"How do you sell it?"

"Cent a stick; it is very nice. I sold fourteen sticks of it to the
mayor this forenoon. He said it was good."

"You don't say so? Did he give you a testimonial?"

"No; he gave me half a dollar."

The clerk laughed heartily at Katy's misapprehension of his word, and
his eye twinkled with mischief. It was plain that he was not a great
admirer of molasses candy, and that he only wanted to amuse himself at
Katy's expense.

"You know what they do with quack medicines--don't you?"

"Yes, I do; some folks are fools enough to take them," replied Katy,
smartly.

"That's a fact; but you don't understand me. Dr. Swindlehanger, round
the corner, would give the mayor a hundred dollars to say his patent
elixir is good. Now, if you could only get the mayor's name on a paper
setting forth the virtues of your candy, I dare say you could sell a
thousand sticks in a day. Why don't you ask him for such a paper?"

"I don't want any paper, except to wrap up my candy in. But you don't
want to buy any candy, I see;" and Katy moved towards some more clerks
at the other end of the store.

"Yes, I do; stop a minute. I want to buy six sticks for my children!"

"For what?"

"For my grandchildren."

"You are making fun of me," said Katy, who could see this, though the
young man was so pleasant and so funny, she could not be offended with
him. "I don't believe your mother would like it, if she should hear you
tell such a monstrous story."

The young man bit his lip. Perhaps he had a kind mother who had taught
him never to tell a lie, even in jest. He quickly recovered his humor,
however, though it was evident that Katy's rebuke had not been without
its effect.

"For how much will you sell me six sticks?" continued the clerk.

"For six cents."

"But that is the retail price; when you sell goods at wholesale you
ought not to ask so much for them."

"You shall have them for five cents then," replied Katy, struck with
the force of the suggestion.

"I can't afford to give so much as that. I am a poor man. I have to go
to the theater twice a week, and that costs me a dollar. Then a ride
Sunday afternoon costs me three dollars. So you see I don't have much
money to spend upon luxuries."

"I hope you don't go out to ride Sundays," said Katy.

"But I do."

"What does your mother say to it?"

The clerk bit his lip again. He did not like these allusions to his
mother, who perhaps lived far away in the country, and had taught him
to "remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy." Very likely his
conscience smote him, as he thought of her and her blessed teachings in
the far-off home of his childhood.

"I will give you two cents," said the clerk.

"I can't take that; it would hardly pay for the molasses, to say
nothing of firewood and labor."

"Call it three cents, then."

"No, sir; the wholesale price is five cents for six sticks."

"But I am poor."

"You wouldn't be poor if you saved up your money, and kept the Sabbath.
Your mother----"

"There, there! that's enough. I will take a dozen sticks!" exclaimed
the young man, impatiently interrupting her.

"A dozen?"

"Yes, a dozen, and there are twelve cents."

"But I only ask ten."

"No matter, give me the candy, and take the money," he replied,
fearful, it may be, that she would again allude to his mother.

Katy counted out the sticks, wrapped them up in a paper, and put the
money in her pocket. If she had stopped at the door to study the young
man's face, she might have detected a shadow of uneasiness and anxiety
upon it. He was a very good-hearted, but rather dissolute, young man,
and the allusions she had made to his mother burned like fire in his
heart, for he had neglected her counsels, and wandered from the
straight road in which she had taught him to walk. If she could have
followed him home, and into the solitude of his chamber, she could have
seen him open his desk, and write a long letter to his distant
mother--a duty he had too long neglected. We may not follow the
fortunes of this young man, but if we could, we might see how a few
words, fitly spoken, even by the lips of an innocent youth; will
sometimes produce a  powerful impression on the character; will
sometimes change the whole current of a life, and reach forward to the
last day of existence.

Katy, all unconscious of the great work she had done, congratulated
herself on this success, and wished she might find a few more such
customers. Glancing into the shop windows as she passed along, to
ascertain whether there was a good prospect for her, she soon found an
inviting field. It was a crockery ware store that she entered this
time, and there were several persons there who seemed not to be very
busy.

"Buy some candy?" said she, presenting the tray to the first person she
met.

"Go home and wash your face," was the ill-natured response.

Was it possible she had come out with a dirty face? No; she had washed
herself the last thing she had done. It is true her clothes were
shabby, there was many a patch and darn upon her dress, and its colors
had faded out like the "last rose of summer;" but then the dress was
clean.

"Buy some candy?" said she to another, with a sudden resolution not to
be disturbed by the rudeness of those she addressed.

He took a stick, and threw down a cent, without a word. One more did
her a similar favor, and she left the store well satisfied with the
visit. Pretty soon she came to a large piano-forte manufactory, where
she knew that a great many men were employed. She went up-stairs to the
counting-room, where she sold three sticks, and was about to enter the
work-room, when a sign, "No admittance except on business," confronted
her. Should she go on? Did the sign refer to her? She had business
there, but perhaps they would not be willing to admit that her business
was very urgent, and she dreaded the indignity of being turned out
again. Her mother had told her there was always a right way and a wrong
way. It certainly was not right to enter in the face of a positive
prohibition, and at last she decided to return to the office and ask
permission to visit the workshop.

"Please may I go into the workshop?" said she, addressing the man who
had purchased the candy.

"Go in? why not?" replied he, placing his pen behind his ear, and
looking at her with a smile of curiosity.

"Why, it says on the door, 'No admittance except on business.'"

"So it does. Well, I declare, you have got an amount of conscience
beyond your station. No one thinks of taking any notice of that sign.
Peddlers and apple men go in without a question."

"I thought you wouldn't let people go in."

"We don't like to have visitors there, for they sometimes do injury,
and generally take off the attention of the men from their work. But
you have got so much conscience about the matter, that you shall not
only go in, but I will go with you, and introduce you."

"Thank you, sir; I won't give you all that trouble. I can introduce
myself."

But the bookkeeper led the way to the door, and they entered a large
room in which a great many men were busily at work.

"Here is a very honest little girl," said her friend, "who has the very
best molasses candy I ever ate. If any of you have a sweet tooth, or
any children at home, I advise you to patronize her."

The bookkeeper laughed, and the workmen laughed, as they began to feel
in their pockets for loose change. It was evident that the friendly
introduction was to be of great service to her. She passed along from
one man to another, and almost every one of them bought two or three
sticks of candy, and before she had been to all of them her stock was
entirely exhausted. Katy was astonished at her good fortune, and the
men were all exceedingly good-natured. They seemed disposed to make a
pleasant thing of her visit, and to give her a substantial benefit.

"Now, my little girl," said the bookkeeper, "when you wish to visit the
workshop again, you may enter without further permission; and I am sure
the men will all be very glad to see you."

"But I want some of that candy," said one of the workmen. "My little
girl would jump to get a stick."

"Then she shall have some," replied Katy, "for I will go home and get
some more;" and she left the building and hastened home for a further
supply of the popular merchandise.

"O mother! I have sold out all my candy, and I want a lot more!"
exclaimed she, as she rushed into the room, full of excitement and
enthusiasm.

"Be calm, child; you will throw yourself into a fever," replied Mrs.
Redburn. "You must learn to take things more easily."

"O dear! I have only twenty sticks left. I wish I had a hundred, for I
am sure I could sell them."

"Perhaps it is fortunate you have no more."

"But I must make some more to-night for to-morrow."

"Don't drive round so, Katy. Be reasonable, and don't think too much of
your success."

But Katy could not stop to argue the matter, though, as she walked
along the street, she thought of what her mother had said, and tried to
calm the excitement that agitated her. It was hard work to keep from
running every step of the way; but her mother's advice must be heeded,
and to some extent she succeeded in controlling her violent impulses.
As it was, she reached the piano-forte manufactory quite out of breath,
and rushed into the workroom as though she had come on an errand of
vital importance to its occupants.

It required but a few minutes to dispose of her small stock of candy.
The workmen all hoped she would come again, and she departed highly
elated at her success.

"There, mother, I have sold all the candy. What do you think of that?"
said she, as she entered her mother's room, and threw off her bonnet
and shawl.

"You have done very well, I had no idea that you could sell more than
twenty or thirty sticks in a day."

"It's a great day's work, mother; and if I can sell half as much in a
day, I shall be satisfied. Don't you think I shall be able to support
you?"

"At this rate you can do much more; but, Katy, I tremble for you."

"Why, mother?"

"You get so excited, and run so, I am afraid it will make you sick."

"O, no, it won't, mother. I feel as strong as a horse. I am not tired
in the least."

"You don't feel so now, because you are so excited by your success."

"I shall get used to it in a little while."

"I hope so, if you mean to follow this business."

"If I mean to? Why mother, what else could I do to make so much money?
See here;" and she poured the money she had taken upon the bed-quilt
before her mother. "One dollar and thirty-six cents, mother! Only think
of it! But I won't jump so another day; I will take it easy."

"I wish you would."

"I will try very hard; but you can't think how happy I feel! Dear me! I
am wasting my time, when I have to make the candy for to-morrow."

"But, Katy, you must not do any more to-night. You will certainly be
sick."

"I must make it, mother."

"Your hands are very sore now."

"They are better; and I don't feel tired a bit."

"I will tell you what you may do, if you must make the candy to-night.
When you have got the molasses boiled, you may ask Mrs. Colvin, the
washerwoman, to come in and pull it for you; for you are not strong
enough to do it yourself."

"I should not like to ask her. She's a poor woman, and it would be just
the same as begging to ask her to give me her work."

"You don't understand me, Katy. She goes out to work whenever she can
get a chance. Her price is ten cents an hour. You can engage her for
one or two hours, and pay her for her labor. This is the only way you
can get along with this business."

"I will do that. It won't take more than an hour."

Mrs. Colvin was accordingly engaged, though at first she positively
refused to be paid for her services; but when Katy told her she should
want her for one or two hours every day, she consented to the
arrangement. Early in the evening the candy was all made, and Katy's
day's work was finished. Notwithstanding her repeated declaration that
she was not tired, the bed "felt good" to her, and she slept all the
more soundly for the hard work and the good deeds she had done.



CHAPTER XII.

KATY PAYS HER DEBTS, AND TOMMY GOES TO SEA.

Katy's second day's sales, though not so large as those of the first
day, were entirely satisfactory. The profits, after paying for the
"stock" and for the services of Mrs. Colvin, were nearly a dollar, and
her heart beat with renewed hope at this continued success. Her grand
idea hardly seemed like an experiment now, for she had proved that she
could make good candy, and that people were willing to buy the article.
She met with about the same treatment from those to whom she offered
her wares; one spoke kindly, and purchased by wholesale, and another
spoke gruffly, and would not buy even a single stick. Here she was
driven out of doors, and there she was petted, and made large sales.

So far as Katy's person and manners were concerned, she was admirably
adapted to the business she had chosen. She was rather small in stature
for one of her age, but she was very well formed, and her movements
were agile and graceful. Her face was not as pretty as it might have
been, but her expression was artless and winning. Her light brown hair
hung in curls upon her shoulders, and contributed not a little to make
up the deficiency in what the painters and sculptors would call a
finely chiseled face.

If she had been dressed in silk, and lace, and embroidery, I doubt not
people would have called her pretty, though in my opinion it does not
make much difference whether she was pretty or not; for, after all, the
best way to judge of a person's beauty is by the old standard,
"Handsome is that handsome does." But I have said thus much about
Katy's face and form in order to explain the secret of her great
success as a candy merchant. Hundreds of persons would buy a stick of
candy of a little girl with a pretty face and a graceful form, who
would not do so of one less attractive. Though she was well favored in
this respect, I believe it was her gentle, polite manners, her sweet
voice, made sweet by a loving heart, that contributed most to her
success. But above all the accidents of a good form, graceful
movements, brown ringlets, and a pleasing address, she prospered in
trade because she was in earnest, and persevered in all her efforts. A
person cannot succeed in business by being merely good looking, though
this may sometimes be of much assistance. It is patience, perseverance,
energy, and above all, integrity and uprightness, that lead to the true
success.

Encouraged by her prosperity, Katy continued to sell candy with about
the same result as had cheered her heart on the first two days. Her
profits, however, were not so great as on those two days, and did not
average above seventy-five cents a day or four dollars and a half a
week. This was doing exceedingly well, and she had every reason to be
grateful for her good fortune.

At the end of three weeks, rent day came round again, and Dr. Flynch
called for the money. To his utter astonishment, it was ready for him,
and he departed without a single ill-natured word, though this was,
perhaps, because he had a wholesome regard for the opinion of Mrs.
Gordon. Two weeks later Katy found that her savings were sufficient to
enable her to pay the month's rent for which Mrs. Gordon had given a
receipt, and also the dollar which Grace had loaned her. These debts
had pressed heavily on her mind. She knew that they were regarded as
free gifts and her pride prompted her to remove what she considered a
stain upon her character. Till they were paid, she felt like a beggar.

Taking her money one day, she paid a visit to Temple Street. Michael
opened the door and received her with a smile. Knowing she was in favor
with his mistress, he conducted her to the sitting-room, where the
portraits hung. Those roguish eyes of the lady, who somewhat resembled
her mother, were fixed on her again. She was sure that her mother did
not look like that picture then, but she was equally sure that she had,
some time or other cast just such a glance at her. The expression of
the lady found something like its  counterpart in her memory. Now, her
mother was sick and sad; she seldom smiled. But some time she must have
been a young girl, and then she must have looked like that portrait.
She felt just like asking Mrs. Gordon if that was her portrait, but she
did not dare to do such a thing. While she was attentively watching the
roguish lady's face, her kind friend entered the room, followed by
Grace.

"How do you do, Katy?" said the former, with a benevolent smile.

"Quite well, I thank you, ma'am. I hope you will excuse me for coming
again," replied she.

"I am very glad you have come."

"I was thinking of you the other day, and wishing I might see you,"
added Grace, "for the Mayor told us a very pretty story about you."

"He was very good to me; and I never shall forget him or you," answered
Katy, warmly.

"I suppose you have come to get another receipt; but I told Dr. Flynch
not to disturb you," said Mrs. Gordon.

"O, no ma'am--I didn't come for that. You were too kind to me before,
and I have come now to pay you for that month's rent."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, ma'am; we have been able to earn money enough, and I am very glad
that I can pay it," replied Katy, taking the four dollars from her
pocket. "Here it is."

"No, my child; you shall keep it. I will not take it."

Katy's cheeks flushed, for she did not feel poor and proud then. She
felt rich; that is she was proud of being able to pay all she owed, and
she did not like to be thought capable of accepting a gift--of being
the recipient of charity. But she knew the hearts of her kind friends,
and left unspoken the words of indignation that trembled on her tongue.
"Please to take the money, ma'am," said she her cheeks still red with
shame.

"No, my child; you are a good girl; I will not take your money."

"I shall feel very bad if you don't, and it will make my mother very
unhappy."

"Nay, Katy, you must not be too proud."

"I am not too proud to ask or to accept a favor, but please don't make
me feel like a beggar."

"You are a very strange child," said Mrs. Gordon.

"Indeed you are," added Grace

"I shall not feel right if you don't take this money. You know I
promised to pay you at the time you gave me the receipt."

"I did not suppose you would, that is, I did not think you would be
able to pay it. Your mother has got well, then?"

"No, ma'am; she is better, but she does not sit up any yet."

"Then how did you get this money?"

"I earned it."

"You!"

"Yes, ma'am; selling candy."

"Is it possible? The mayor told me you were a little candy merchant,
but I did not suppose you carried on such an extensive trade."

"I make a great deal of money; almost five dollars a week; and now I am
able, I hope you will let me pay you."

"If you insist upon it, I shall, though I had much rather you would
keep the money."

"Thank you, ma'am. I shall feel much better when it is paid."

Mrs. Gordon reluctantly received the four dollars. It was a very small
sum to her, though a very large one to Katy. She saw that the little
candy merchant's pride was of the right kind, and she was not disposed
to give her any unnecessary mortification, though she resolved that
neither Katy nor her mother should ever want a friend in their need.

"I owe you one dollar, also," continued Katy, advancing to the side of
Grace.

"Well, I declare!" laughed Grace. "If that isn't a good one!"

"I promised to pay you; and you know I would not take the money as a
gift," replied Katy.

"I am aware that you would not, and you are the promptest paymistress I
ever knew."

"With the dollar you lent me, I bought the molasses to make the first
lot of candy I sold. Your dollar has done a great deal of good."

"I am glad it has; but I don't want to take it."

"Won't you let me feel like myself?"

"Certainly I will," laughed Grace.

"Then let me pay my debts, and not feel just like a beggar."

"You are the queerest child I ever saw!" exclaimed Grace, as she took
the dollar. "I am going to keep this dollar for you, and perhaps some
time you will not be so proud as you are now, though I hope you will
always have all the money you want."

"I think I shall, if my trade continues to be good," replied Katy, who,
now that all her debts had been paid, felt a heavy load removed from
her heart.

"You must bring your candy up here. The mayor says it is very good. I
have a sweet tooth, and I will buy lots of it," added Grace.

"I will bring you up some to-morrow," replied Katy, moving towards the
door, and casting a last glance at the mischievous lady in the picture.

"The mayor told me to ask you to call and see him again," said Mrs.
Gordon. "He is very much interested in you."

"He is very kind;" and she bade them good-by.

Katy felt highly honored by the notice the mayor had taken of her. Like
Master Simon Sneed, she felt almost like calling him her friend the
mayor; but she resolved to call upon him on her way home. He received
her very kindly, told her what a mistake she had made in giving the
pawnbroker his note, who had never delivered it to the marshal, and
promised to buy lots of candy when she came with her tray.

When she returned home she found a message there from Tommy Howard,
requesting to see her that afternoon. She did not feel like spending
any more time in idleness, when she had so much candy to sell; but
Tommy's request was not to be neglected; and, taking her tray, she
called at his house as she passed up to the court.

Tommy had been talking for a year about going to sea, and had been for
some time on the lookout for a chance as a cabin-boy or a reefer. He
had told her his plans, how he intended to be a good sailor and work
his way up to be captain of some fine ship. She suspected, therefore,
that he had found a chance to go to sea, and wanted to tell her all
about it.

She found him at home, waiting her expected visit; but a feeling of
sadness came over her when she saw his manly face, and thought how
badly she should feel if he should go off on the ocean, and, perhaps,
be drowned in its vast depths. He had been her friend and protector.
Johnny Grippen hardly dared to look at her since the flogging he had
given him; and Katy thought, perhaps, if he went away, that she should
have no one to defend her.

"I am going to-morrow, Katy," said he, after he had given her a seat by
the window.

"To sea?" asked Katy, gloomily.

"Yes; I have got a first-rate ship, and she sails to-morrow."

"I am so sorry you are going!"

"O, never mind it, Katy; I shall be back one of these days. I wanted to
tell you if Johnny Grippen gives you any impudence, to let me know and
I'll lick him when I come back."

"I guess he won't."

"He may; if he does, you had better tell his father."

"But where are you going, Tommy?"

"To Liverpool."

Katy started. Her grandfather lived there. After a moment's thought she
conceived a plan which made her heart bound with emotion. She could
send word to her grandfather, by Tommy, that she and her mother were in
Boston, and then he would send over after them, and they could live in
his fine house, and she should be as happy as a queen. Then she and her
mother might be passengers in Tommy's ship--and wouldn't they have
great times on the passage! And as her grandfather was a merchant, and
owned ships, she might be able to do something for Tommy.

Under the seal of secrecy she related to her young sailor friend all
the particulars of her mother's history; and he wrote down the names
she gave him. Tommy promised to hunt all over Liverpool till he found
her grandfather; and to insure him a good reception, Katy wrote a short
letter to him, in which she stated the principal facts in the case.

"Now, good-by, Tommy," said she, wiping away a tear; "I shall think of
you every day, and pray for you too. I hope there won't be any storms
to sink your ship."

"We shan't mind the storms. Good-by, Katy."

She felt very badly all the rest of the day, and her sales were smaller
than usual, for her energy was diminished in proportion to the sadness
of her heart.



CHAPTER XIII.

KATY EMPLOYS AN ASSISTANT.

As winter approached, Katy realized that the demand for molasses candy
was on the increase, and she found it necessary to make a much larger
quantity. Mrs. Colvin still rendered her assistance "for a
consideration," and the supply was thus made to correspond with the
demand.

Mrs. Redburn's health which had begun to improve with the advent of
their prosperity, now enabled her to sit up nearly the whole day, and
to render much aid in the household affairs, and especially in the
manufacturing of the candy. The good fortune that had attended Katy's
efforts brought many additional comforts to their humble dwelling;
indeed, they had everything that they needed, and everything that any
poor person would have required. But the fond mother had never been
able to reconcile herself to the business which Katy followed. She
dreaded every day lest the temptations to which it constantly exposed
her might lead her astray. She loved her daughter with all her heart,
and she would rather have died in poverty and want than have had her
corrupted. She had every reason to believe that Katy was the pure and
innocent child she had always been; but she feared, as she grew older,
that some harm might befall her. She would rather bury her than see her
become a bad person, and she hoped soon to be able to resume her own
labors, and let Katy abandon her dangerous business.

Mrs. Redburn often talked with her about the perils that lay in her
path; but Katy spoke like one who was fortified by good resolutions and
a strong will. She declared that she knew what dangers were in her way,
and that she could resist all the temptations that beset her. Whatever
views the mother had, there seemed to be no opportunity to carry them
out, for by Katy's labors they were fed, clothed, and housed. She was
her mother's only support, and the candy trade, perilous as it was,
could not be given up.

Katy did not desire to abandon the business she had built up, for she
was proud of her achievement. She was resolved to be good and true, and
to her it did not seem half so perilous as to others. She had even
indulged some thoughts of enlarging her business. Why could she not
have a shop, and sell candy on a counter as well as in the street? She
mentioned this idea to her mother, who was sure the shop could not
succeed, for she was aware that her daughter's winning manners were
more than half her stock in trade, and that her large sales resulted
from carrying the candy to hundreds of people who did not want it
enough to go after it. Therefore Katy gave up the shop at once, but she
did not abandon the idea of enlarging her business, though she did not
exactly see how it could be done. One day an accident solved the
problem for her, and at that time commenced a new era in the candy
trade.

One pleasant morning in November, as she walked up the court, she met
Ann Grippen, a sister of Johnny who stopped to talk with her. The
Grippen family consisted of eleven persons. The father was a day
laborer, and as his wages were small, and he had a great many mouths to
feed, they were, of course, miserably poor. The older children showed
no ability or disposition to help their parents but spent most of their
time in strolling about the streets. Johnny was a fair specimen of the
boys, as Ann was of the girls. She might have been seen almost any day
with a well-worn basket on her arm, exploring the streets and wharves
in search of chips, for Johnny was too vicious to do the work which
more properly belonged to him.

"You sell lots of candy now--don't you?" said Ann.

"Yes, a great deal," replied Katy, who was not disposed to spend her
time idly, and in the company of one whose reputation in the
neighborhood was not very good.

"Stop a minute--won't you? I want to speak to you."

"I will; but be as quick as you can, for I am in a hurry."

"Don't you think I could sell candy?" continued Ann.

"I dare say you could. Why don't you try, if you want to?"

"But I haven't got no candy; and mother can't make it, as you can. If
you are a mind to let me have some, I will sell it for you, and you may
give me what you like."

The idea struck the little merchant very favorably. There were a great
many girls just like Ann Grippen, who were wasting their time about the
streets, and learning to be wicked. Why couldn't she employ them to
sell candy?

"I will try you," replied Katy.

"Well, I'm all ready to begin."

"Not yet," said the little candy merchant, with a smile.

"Yes, I am."

"Your face and hands are very dirty."

"What odds will that make?" asked Ann, rather indignantly.

"Do you suppose anybody would eat a stick of candy after you had
touched it with those dirty fingers? Your customers would be afraid of
being poisoned."

"I s'pose I can wash 'em," replied Ann, who seemed still to regard it
as a very unnecessary operation.

"It would be a good plan; and while you are about it you must not
forget your face."

"I ain't a-going to touch the candy with my face," added Ann,
triumphantly.

"Very true; but if people saw you with such a dirty face, they would be
afraid your candy was not very clean."

"Any way you like. I will wash my face and hands both, if that's all."

"But that isn't all. Your dress is very dirty and very ragged."

"I can't afford to dress like a lady," said Ann, who had some of her
brother's disposition, and under any other circumstances would have
resented Katy's plain home thrusts.

"You needn't dress like a lady; but the neater and cleaner you are, the
more candy you will sell."

"I will fix up as much as I can."

"Very well; if you will come to my house to-morrow morning, I will let
you have some candy."

"How much will you give me for selling it?" asked Ann.

"I can't tell now; I will think about it, and let you know when you
come."

Katy went her way, turning over and over in her mind the scheme which
Ann's application had suggested to her. She might employ a dozen girls,
or even more than that, and pay them so much a dozen for selling the
candy. She might then stop going out to sell herself, and thus gratify
her mother. She could even go to school, and still attend to her
business.

When she returned home at noon, she proposed the plan to her mother.
Mrs. Redburn was much pleased with it, though she suggested many
difficulties in the way of its success. The girls might not be honest;
but if they were not, they could be discharged. Many of them were
vicious; they would steal or be saucy, so that people would not permit
them to enter their stores and offices, and the business would thus be
brought into disrepute. Katy determined to employ the best girls she
could find, and to tell them all that they must behave like ladies.

The next morning Ann Grippen appeared with her face and hands tolerably
clean, and wearing a dress which by a liberal construction could be
called decent. She brought a dirty, rusty old tray, which was the best
she could obtain; yet in spite of all these disadvantages, the little
candy merchant looked upon it as a hopeful case.

"Now, Ann, you must be very civil to everybody you meet," said Katy, as
she covered the rusty tray with a sheet of clean white paper.

"I hope I know how to behave myself," replied Ann, rather crustily.

"I dare say you do;" and she might have hinted that there was some
difference between knowing how to do a thing and doing it. "I was only
going to tell you how to sell candy. If you don't want me to tell you,
I won't."

"I should like to have you tell me, but I guess I know how to behave."

"You must be very civil to everybody, even when they don't speak very
pleasant to you."

"I don't know about that," replied Ann, doubtfully, for it was contrary
to the Grippen philosophy to be very civil to any one, much less to
those who were not civil to them.

"When any one buys any candy of you, you must always say, 'Thank you';
and then the next time you meet the person he will buy again."

"How much you going to give me for selling?" demanded Ann, abruptly
cutting short the instructions.

"Mother thinks you ought to have four cents a dozen."

"Four cents? My mother says I ought to have half, and I ain't going to
sell your candy for no four cents a dozen."

"Very well; you needn't if you don't wish to do so;" and Katy removed
the sheet of white paper she had placed over the dirty tray.

"You ought to give me half I get," added Ann, rather softened by Katy's
firmness and decision.

"Four cents is enough. I often sell a hundred sticks in a day."

"Well, I don't care; I will try it once."

"If we find we can afford to pay any more than four cents, we will do
so."

Katy covered the tray again, and arranged two dozen sticks on it in an
attractive manner. After giving Ann some further instructions in the
art of selling candy, she permitted her to depart on her mission. She
was not very  confident in regard to her success for Ann was too coarse
and ill-mannered for a good sales-woman. She hoped for the best,
however, and after preparing her own tray, she went out to attend to
business as usual. In the court she saw Master Simon Sneed, who was
sitting on his father's doorstep. She noticed that he looked sad and
downhearted; and when he spoke to her the tones of his voice indicated
the same depression of spirits.

"Have you seen the Mayor lately, Katy?" asked Simon, as he approached.

"Not very lately."

"I should like to see him," added he, raising his eyes to her.

"Why don't you call upon him? You know where he lives--don't you?"

"Yes, but----"

Master Simon paused, as though he did not like to explain the reason.
Katy waited for him to proceed, but as he did not, she remarked that he
looked very sad, and she hoped nothing had happened.

"Something has happened," replied he, gloomily.

"Nothing bad, I hope."

"I have left my place at Sands & Co.'s.

"Left it? Why, how can they possibly get along without you?" exclaimed
Katy.

"It is their own fault; and though I say it who should not say it, they
will never find another young man who will do as much for them as I
have done."

"I shouldn't think they would have let you go."

"Nor I; but some men never know when they are well used."

"How did it happed?"

"I asked them for an increase of salary, and told them I could stay no
longer unless they did so. And what do you think they did?"

"I don't know; I should suppose they would have raised your salary."

"No, Katy," added Simon, bitterly. "Mr. Sands told me I might go; he
wouldn't have me at any rate. Wasn't that cool? Well, well; if they
don't know their own interest, they must bear the consequences. If they
fail, or lose all their trade, they can't blame me for it. Now I have
nothing to do; and I was just thinking whether my friend the mayor
couldn't help me into a situation."

"I dare say he can. Why don't you call and see him at once?"

"I don't like to do so. He sees so many persons that I really don't
think he would recollect me. I must get something to do, though; for my
father is sick, and winter is coming on."

"How much salary did you get, Master Simon?" asked Katy, who highly
approved his determination not to be a burden upon his father.

"Two dollars and a half a week."

"Is that all!"

"Yes; they ought to have given me ten. Even that was better than
nothing."

"I was thinking of something, Master Simon," said Katy, after a pause.

"What, Katy?"

"I make four or five dollars a week."

"Is it possible!"

"If you have a mind to sell candy, I will furnish you all you want, so
that you can make at least three dollars a week."

The lip of Master Simon slowly curled, till his face bore an expression
of sovereign contempt. He rose from his seat, and fixed his eyes rather
sternly upon the little candy merchant, who began to think she had made
a bad mistake, though all the time she had intended to do a kind act.

"What have I done, Katy, that you should insult me? Do you think I have
sunk so low as to peddle candy about the streets?" said he,
contemptuously.

"Do you think I have sunk very low, Master Simon?" asked Katy, with a
pleasant smile on her face.

"Your business is very low," he replied, more gently.

"Is that business low by which I honestly make money enough to support
my sick mother and myself?"

"It would be low for me; my ideas run a little higher than that,"
answered Simon, rather disposed to apologize for his hard words; for
Katy's smile had conquered him, as a smile oftener will conquer than a
hard word.

"You know best; but if I can do anything for you, Master Simon, I shall
be very glad to do so."

"Thank you, Katy; you mean right, but never speak to me about selling
candy again. I think you can help me."

"Then I will."

"I will see you again when I get my plan arranged. In the meantime, if
you happen to meet my friend the mayor, just speak a good word for me."

"I will;" and Katy left him.



CHAPTER XIV.

MASTER SIMON SNEED MAKES A MISTAKE.

Contrary to the expectations of Katy and her mother, Ann Grippen
returned at noon with her tray empty, having sold the whole two dozen
sticks.

"Well, Ann, how do you like the business?" asked Katy.

"First rate. Here is twenty-four cents," replied Ann; and it was
evident, from her good-natured laugh, that she was much encouraged by
her success.

"You may give me sixteen; the other eight belong to you."

"I think I can do something at it," added Ann, as she regarded with
much satisfaction the first money she had ever earned in her life.

"You can, if you work it right; but you must be very gentle and
patient; you must keep yourself clean and----"

"Well, I guess I know all about that," interrupted Ann, who did not
like this style of remark.

"Katy," said her mother, who was sitting in her rocking-chair, by the
fire.

"What, mother?"

"Come here a moment."

Katy crossed the room to her mother, to hear what she wished to say.

"You must not talk to her in that style," said Mrs. Redburn, in a tone
so low that Ann could not hear her.

"Why not, mother? I was only telling her how to do."

"But you speak in that tone of superiority which no one likes to hear.
You are but a child, as she is, and she will not listen to such advice
from you."

Katy wondered what her mother would have thought if she had heard what
she said to Ann the day before. Yet she was conscious that she had "put
on airs," and talked like a very old and a very wise person.

"I suppose you would like to go out again this afternoon," resumed
Katy, joining her assistant again.

"I don't care if I do."

"Well, come this afternoon, and you shall have some more candy;" and
Ann ran home to get her dinner.

"I think my plan will work well, mother," said Katy, when she had gone.

"It has so far, but you must not be too sure."

"I mean to go out after dinner and hunt up some more girls, for you see
I shall have no candy to sell myself this afternoon, when I have given
Ann two dozen sticks."

"I hope you will not attempt to lecture them as you did her."

"Why, mother, I know all about the business and they don't know
anything."

"I doubt not you are competent to advise them; but the manner in which
you address them is more offensive than the matter. Your knowledge of
the business makes you treat them as inferiors. You must not think too
much of yourself, Katy."

"No danger of that, mother."

"I am afraid there is. Persons in authority, who are gentle and kind,
and do not act like superiors, are more promptly obeyed, and more loved
and respected, than those who are puffed up by their office, and
tyrannical in their manners."

"But I am not a person in authority, mother," laughed Katy.

"You will be, if you employ a dozen girls to sell candy for you."

After Katy had eaten her dinner, and fitted out Ann Grippen, she left
the house in search of some more assistants. She was well known to all
the boys and girls in the neighborhood; and when she stated her object
to one and another of them, she was readily understood. To help her
cause, it had begun to be known that Ann Grippen had been seen with a
clean face, selling candy in the street. She had no difficulty,
therefore, in procuring the services of half a dozen girls, who were
delighted with the plan especially when Katy informed them of Ann's
success.

On her return home, she found that Simon Sneed had called to see her,
and she immediately hastened to his house. When she knocked, he came to
the door and invited her into the parlor.

"Well, Katy, I have hit upon something," said he.

"I am glad you have."

"I went down town after I saw you, and hearing of a place in Tremont
Row, I went to apply for it."

"Did you get it?"

"Not yet, but I hope to get it. They agreed to give me three dollars a
week if everything proved satisfactory; but they wanted a
recommendation from my last employers."

"Of course they will give you one."

"No, they would not; they were offended because I left them."

"Then you asked them?"

"Yes, I went after one this afternoon, and they would not give it to
me. I did not much expect they would, and so I informed Messrs. Runn &
Reed, the firm to which I have applied for an engagement. I told them
exactly how the case stood; that I had demanded higher wages, and the
Messrs. Sands were angry with me for doing so, and for that reason
refused the testimonial. They saw through it all, and understood my
position. When I spoke to them about my friend the mayor, they looked
surprised, and said a recommendation from him would satisfy them. So
you see just how I am situated."

"Why don't you go to him at once, and ask him for the recommendation?"
said Katy wondering why he hesitated at so plain a case.

But Master Simon had some scruples about doing so. He was old enough to
know that it was rather a delicate business to ask a man in a high
official station for a testimonial on so slight an acquaintance. The
mayor was interested in Katy, though she did not presume to call him
her friend. She had twice called upon him, and she might again.

"I don't like to ask him, Katy. I feel some delicacy about doing so."

"I should just as lief ask him as not, if I were you. I am afraid you
are too proud, Master Simon."

"I am proud, Katy: that's just it. I was born to be a gentleman, but I
submit to my lot. I am willing to sell my talents and my labor for
money. If I can once get in at Runn & Reed's, I am sure they will
appreciate me, and consider it a lucky day on which they engaged me."

"If you want me to go to the mayor's house with you, I will," said
Katy, who did not clearly comprehend Simon's wishes.

"Well, I think I will not go myself," replied Simon.

"Why not?"

"I do not like to place myself in a humiliating posture before great
men. If I were mayor of Boston, I should like to do him the favor which
I ask for myself. When I am--"

"You haven't asked him, Master Simon."

"In a word, Katy, I want you to ask him for me. You will do me a great
favor."

"I will," replied Katy, promptly.

"The mayor is a very fine man, kind-hearted, and willing to help
everybody that deserves help; and if he were not my friend, I should
feel no delicacy in asking him myself. You can state the case, and
inform him who I am, and what I am; that you know me to be honest and
faithful. You can tell him, too, that I am a gentlemanly person, of
pleasing address."

"But I can't remember all that," interposed Katy.

"Tell him what you can recollect, then. He is an easy, good-natured
man, and will give you the testimonial at once."

"Suppose you write a paper, just such as you want, Master Simon. Then
he can copy it."

"Well I will do that."

Simon seated himself at a table, and, after considerable effort,
produced the following piece of elegant composition, which he read to
Katy:--


"To whom it may concern:

"This may certify that I have been for some time acquainted with my
friend Mr. Simon Sneed, and I believe him to be an honest and faithful
young man, of gentlemanly bearing, pleasing address, and polite
manners, who will be an honor and an ornament to any establishment that
may be so fortunate as to secure his valuable services; and I
cheerfully recommend him to any person to whom he may apply for a
situation. Mayor of Boston."


"I have left a blank space for his honor's signature," continued Master
Simon, when he had read the modest document. "What do you think of it,
Katy?"

"It is very fine. What a great scholar you must be! I should think
you'd write a book."

"Perhaps I may one of these days."

"I will go right up to the mayor's house now," said Katy, as she bade
him good afternoon.

Before she went, she returned home and nicely enclosed six sticks of
candy in white paper as a present for Freddie, the mayor's little son.
On her way up to Park Street she opened Simon's paper, and read it. It
sounded funny to her, with its big words and fine sentences; and then
what a puffing Master Simon had given himself! She even began to wonder
if there was not something about her gentlemanly friend which was not
all right.

She reached the mayor's house, and as it was his time to be at home,
she was conducted to the library.

"Ah, Katy, I am glad to see you," said he, taking her hand.

"Thank you, sir. I have brought this candy for Master Freddie."

"You are very good, and I suppose you are so proud that I must not
offer to pay you for it."

"If you please, don't, sir," replied Katy, unconsciously taking Master
Simon's testimonial from her pocket. "I don't want you to pay me in
money, but you may pay me in another way, if you please."

"May I? What have you in your hand?"

"A paper, sir. You remember Master Simon Sneed?"

"No, I don't."

"The young man at Sands & Co.'s."

"O, yes; the young gentleman that uses so many long words."

"He has left his place, and wants to get another."

"He has left it? Why was that?"

"He asked for more wages. He has found another place, which he can have
if he can get a testimonial."

"Let him ask Sands & Co."

"They won't give him one, because they are so angry with him for
leaving them."

"That indeed!"

"Master Simon wants you to give him one," continued Katy, who, in her
confusion was jumping at the conclusion of the matter rather too
hastily, and before she had produced a proper impression in regard to
her hero's transcendent character and ability.

"Does he, indeed," laughed the mayor. "He is very modest."

"He said, as you are his friend, you would not object to giving him
one."

"What have you in your hand, Katy? Has he written one to save me the
trouble?" laughed the mayor.

"I asked him to do so. You can copy it off, if you please, sir."

The mayor took the testimonial and proceeded to read it. Katy had
already concluded from his manner that the business was not all
correct, and she wished herself out of the scrape. He finished the
reading, and then burst into a violent fit of laughter.

"Your friend is very modest, Katy;--my friend Mr. Simon Sneed."

"I hope I haven't done anything wrong, sir?" stammered Katy.

"No, Katy; you have been imposed upon by a silly young man. You meant
to do him a kindness--in your heart you had nothing but kindness--and I
think the more of you for what you have done, and the less of Simon for
what he has done. Did he think I would recommend him, when I know
nothing about him? He is a conceited puppy, and, in my opinion, a
worthless fellow. One of these days he will be 'an honor and an
ornament' to the workhouse, if he does business in this manner."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Katy, frightened at the remarks of the mayor.

"Now, Katy, we will go to the store of the Messrs. Sands & Co., and
find out about this young man. I will meet you there at half-past four.
Good-by, Katy. Freddie thinks ever so much of you now, and in his
behalf I thank you for the candy."

Katy did not know exactly what to make of her position but at the time
fixed, she was at the store of Sands & Co., where the mayor soon joined
her.

"Now, Katy, you shall hear what his employers say of Master Simon,"
said he; and she followed him into the store.

The mayor stated his business, and inquired concerning the character of
Simon.

"He is honest, and did his work very well," replied Mr. Sands.

Katy was pleased to hear this, and the mayor confessed his surprise.

"But he was an intolerable nuisance about the store," continued Mr.
Sands. "With only a small amount of modesty, he would have done very
well; as it was, he was the biggest man in our employ. Our customers
were disgusted with him, and we had been thinking of getting rid of him
for a long time. When he asked for more wages, impudently declaring he
would leave if we did not accede to his demand, we discharged him. In a
word, I wouldn't have him round the store at any price."

"As I supposed," replied the mayor, as he showed Mr. Sands the
recommendation Simon had written.

"This sounds just like him."

Katy pitied poor Simon now that she understood him, and she went home
determined to tell him all that had passed between the mayor and
herself.



CHAPTER XV.

KATY GETS A LETTER FROM LIVERPOOL.

Master Simon Sneed sat at the window when Katy returned, and she had to
tell him all about it. She pitied him, poor fellow, and she hoped the
lesson would do him good. She did not like to tell him so many
unpleasant things, for they would wound his pride.

"Well, Katy, what did my friend the mayor say?" asked Simon, as he
joined her on the sidewalk.

"I am afraid you will not call him your friend after this," replied
Katy.

"Why? He had not the effrontery to refuse my reasonable request?"

"The what? Please to use words that I can understand," said she, for
she was not a little disgusted with Simon's big words, now she knew how
much mischief they had done him.

"Didn't he give you the paper?"

"He did not."

"I didn't think that of him. It was shabby."

"He said he did not know you. But I showed him your paper, in which you
had written down what you thought of yourself."

"Well, what did he say to that?" asked Simon, eagerly.

"I thought he would split his fat sides laughing. He didn't seem to
believe a word of it."

"He didn't? I am surprised at that."

"He said you were a conceited puppy."

"I always took the mayor for a sensible fellow; I see I have been
mistaken."

"He didn't like it because you sent me to him upon such an errand. He
said you had imposed upon me."

"Go on, Katy; I may expect anything after what you have said," replied
Simon, with all the coolness and indifference he could command.

"He said he believed you were a worthless fellow. Then he told me to
meet him at the store of the Messrs. Sands & Co., and he would inquire
about you."

"Then you went to the store?"

"We did; and when the mayor asked Mr. Sands about you, he said you were
honest, and did your work well, but----"

"Notice that remark particularly. I hope you called the mayor's
attention to it," interrupted Master Simon. "What else did he say?"

"He said you were a nuisance----"

"Observe how far his prejudices carried him. That man believed, if I
stayed in the store, that I should supplant him and his partner. You
see how far he carried his spite."

"But he said all the good he could of you Simon," said Katy. "He said
you were honest and did your work well."

"Can a nuisance be honest, and do work well? Hath not a Jew eyes?"
queried Mr. Simon, with dramatic fervor.

"He didn't say anything about Jews."

"I was quoting Shakspeare, the immortal bard of Avon. Katy, Sands knew
that I was securing the respect and esteem of all his customers; and he
knew very well if I should step into a rival establishment, I should
take half his trade with me," continued the injured Sneed.

"He said his customers were disgusted with you. You talked so big and
thought so much of yourself, he would not have you in the store at any
price. But I should think that Runn & Reed would be glad to have you if
you can carry so much trade with you."

"They cannot know till I have had a chance to show them what I can do."

"I hope you will soon have such a chance."

"There is one thing about it; when I do, Sands & Co. will see the
mistake they have made. I think the ladies that visit their store will
miss a familiar face. They used to insist upon my waiting upon them,
though it was not exactly in the line of my duty to sell goods. Often
was I called away from the bundle department to attend them. No one
seemed to suit them but me. Why, it was only the day before I left that
an elegant, aristocratic lady from Beacon Street made me go clear home
with her."

"Why, what for?"

"To carry her bundle; but that was all a pretense."

"Did she invite you to tea, Master Simon?" asked Katy, who could hardly
help laughing in his face.

"No, but she kept me quarter of an hour at the door."

"What did she say?"

"She was trying to make it out that I had brought the wrong bundle, and
so she opened it, in the entry; but it was only to keep me there."

"You think she was smitten?" laughed Katy.

"I have an opinion," replied Simon, sagely. "There are a good many fine
ladies will miss my face."

Katy didn't think any fine lady could be much charmed with that thin,
hatchet face; and she realized now that Master Simon was a great heap
of vanity. She never thought before that he could be so silly. She
wanted to tell him that he was a great fool, for she feared he would
never find it out himself; but he was older than she was, and she did
not think it quite proper to do so.

"I must go now," said Katy. "If you don't find anything you like
better, you can sell candy, you know."

"Katy!" exclaimed Simon, sternly.

"I am poor and proud, Master Simon; I am too proud to be dependent, or
do anything mean and wicked; but I am not too proud to sell candy."

"I am," replied Simon, with dignity.

"Then yours is a foolish pride," replied Katy, with a smile to soften
the hard words; and she walked away toward her own house.

She felt thankful that she had no such pride as Simon's; and she had
reason to be thankful for when any person is too proud to do the work
which God has placed within his reach, he becomes a pitiable object,
and honest men will regard him with contempt.

Katy had to work very hard that evening, in making candy for her
assistants to sell, and it was nine o'clock before she was ready to go
to bed.

The next morning, all the girls who had engaged to come, appeared with
their trays, and were supplied with candy. Katy instructed them very
modestly in the art of selling; taking upon herself no airs, and
assuming no superiority. Ann Grippen came with them, and seemed to be
very much pleased with her new occupation.

At noon they all returned, though only two of them had sold out their
two dozen sticks. Katy gave them further instructions in regard to the
best places to sell candy, and when they came home at night, all but
one had disposed of their stock. The experiment, therefore was regarded
as a successful one. The next day several other girls, who had heard of
Katy's plan, came to the house, and wanted to be engaged. The little
merchant could not supply them, but promised, if they would come the
next day, to furnish them with a stock. Even now, the quantity
manufactured required the services of Mrs. Colvin for three hours, and
this day she engaged her to come immediately after dinner.

I need not detail the manner in which Katy's trade kept increasing. In
a fortnight she had more than a dozen girls employed in selling candy.
She was actually making a wholesale business of it, and no longer
traveled about the streets herself. By the first of December, Mrs.
Redburn had so far recovered her health as to be able to take charge of
the manufacturing part of the business, and Katy was permitted to go to
school, though she supplied the girls in the morning and at noon, and
settled all their accounts.

One day she received a call from Michael, Mrs. Gordon's man, requesting
her attendance in Temple Street. She obeyed the summons; but when she
met Mrs. Gordon and Grace, she was alarmed to see how coldly and
reproachfully they looked upon her.

"I have heard a very bad story about you, Katy," said Mrs. Gordon.

"About me?" gasped she.

"Yes; and I was very sorry to hear it."

"What was it, ma'am? I hope I haven't done anything to lose your good
will."

"I am afraid you have."

"I don't believe she did it, mother," said Grace. "She is too good to
do any such thing."

"What is it? Do tell me."

"I have been told that a little girl, who sells candy, has been playing
tricks upon passers-by in the streets; that she tells lies and deceives
them."

"I never did such a thing!" protested Katy, her cheeks covered with the
blush of indignation.

Mrs. Gordon explained the deception, and spoke in very severe terms of
it. The trick had been played off on a friend of hers, who had told of
it the evening before.

"When was it, ma'am?" asked Katy.

"Yesterday forenoon."

"I was in school then. Besides, I haven't sold any candy in the street
for more than three weeks."

"I knew it wasn't she!" exclaimed Grace triumphantly.

"I was very unwilling to believe it," added Mrs. Gordon; "but the
description seemed to point you out as the little deceiver."

"I wouldn't do such a thing, ma'am. If you inquire you will find that I
have been in school every day this week."

"I believe you, Katy. But can you tell me who it was?"

"I don't know, but I will find out;" and before she took her leave she
told the ladies how she conducted her business, which amused them very
much.

"Who played this trick?" said she to herself when she got into the
street. "If I can only find out, I will discharge her. She will bring
the business into contempt."

Of course no one would own it, and the only way she could find out was
by watching them. It must be stopped, for, besides being too honest to
allow such deception, Katy saw that it would spoil the trade.

When she got home, she found a letter which the penny-post had brought,
directed to her in large schoolboy hand.

"It is from Tommy," exclaimed she, eagerly seizing the letter and
retiring to a corner to read it.

"You and Tommy are great friends," said her mother.

"Yes, mother; but don't you see it came all the way from Liverpool?"

Mrs. Redburn sighed deeply at the mention of her native city, and a
thousand memories of the past flitted before her. Katy broke the seal,
and as this letter contained some very important information, my young
readers may look over her shoulder while she reads it. It was as
follows:--


                    Liverpool, Nov. 13, 1845.

"Dear Friend:--I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am well,
and I hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessing. I
arrived to Liverpool safe and sound, and when I got home, I will tell
you all about it. Just as we got in to the dock, I kept thinking about
what you told me. They won't let us have any fires on board ship in the
docks; so we all board ashore. I asked the man where we stopped if he
knew such a merchant as Matthew Guthrie. He did not know him, and never
heard of him. Then I went round among the big merchants, and asked
about your grandfather. I asked a good many before I found one who knew
him, and he said your grandfather had been dead ten years. I asked him
where the family was. He said Mr. Guthrie had only two daughters; that
one of them had run away with her father's clerk, and the other was
married and gone to America. He said her husband belonged to Baltimore.
This was all he knew about it, and all I could find out. We shall sail
home in about three weeks. I thought you would like to know; so I wrote
this letter to send by the steamer. Drop in and see my mother, and tell
her I am well, and had a tiptop voyage over. No more at present from

                   "Your affectionate friend,
                                  "THOMAS HOWARD."


Katy read the letter twice over, and then gave it to her mother, after
explaining that she had told Tommy her story, and requested him to
inquire about her grandfather. Mrs. Redburn was too much affected by
the news from her early home to find fault with Katy for what she had
done.

Both of them felt very sad for while Mrs. Redburn thought of her
father, who had lain in his grave ten years without her knowledge, Katy
could not but mourn over the hopes which Tommy's letter had blasted.



CHAPTER XVI.

ANN GRIPPEN PLAYS TRICKS UPON TRAVELERS.

The next day was Wednesday, and as school kept but half a day, Katy
resolved to spend the afternoon in finding out which of her employees
was in the habit of practicing the deception which Mrs. Gordon had
described to her. She could think of no one upon whom she could fasten
the guilt, unless it was Ann Grippen, who, she thought, would be more
likely to play such a trick than any other. After she had delivered
their candy, she put on her things and followed the girls down to State
Street, where they separated. Ann went up Court Street, and Katy
decided that she needed watching, and so she followed her.

It was a very tedious afternoon to the little wholesale merchant, but
the dignity of the trade depended upon her efforts in seeking the
offender. Ann entered various shops, and seemed to be having very good
luck with her stock. At last she appeared to grow tired of her labors,
and turned into an alley. Katy wondered what she was going to do there,
for it was certainly no place to sell candy. She waited sometime for
her to come out, and when she heard her steps, she placed herself at
the corner of the alley, in such a position that Ann could not see her
face.

Presently she heard Ann crying with all her might; and crying so very
naturally that she could hardly persuade herself that it was not real.
She glanced over her shoulder at her, and discovered that she had
broken the nice sticks of candy into a great many little pieces; and it
was for this purpose that she had gone into the alley. Katy was
indignant when she saw so much valuable merchandise thus ruthlessly
mutilated, and the sale of it spoiled. She was disposed to present
herself to the artful girl, and soundly lecture her for the deceit and
wickedness: but she wanted to see how the game was played.

"Boo, hoo, hoo!" sobbed Ann Grippen, apparently suffering all the pangs
of a broken heart, which could not possibly be repaired.

"What is the matter, little girl?" asked a benevolent lady, attracted
by the distress of Ann.

"Boo, hoo, hoo!" cried Ann, unable to speak on account of the torrents
of wo that overwhelmed her.

"Don't cry, little girl, and tell me what the matter is," continued the
kind lady.

"Boo, hoo, hoo! I fell down and broke all my candy," sobbed Ann.

"Poor child!" exclaimed the sympathizing lady.

"My father'll beat me because I didn't sell it," added Ann.

"He is a cruel man. Are you sure he will punish you?"

"Yes, ma'am," groaned Ann. "He'll whip me almost to death if I don't
bring home half a dollar."

"You can tell him you fell down and broke the candy," suggested the
lady.

"He won't believe me; he'll say I sold the candy and spent the money.
O, dear me."

"You can show him the pieces."

"Boo, hoo, hoo! Then he'll say I broke it on purpose, because I was too
lazy to sell it; and then he'll kill me--I know he will."

"I will go and see him, and tell him about the accident. Where do you
live?"

"Down North Square. He ain't to home now," replied Ann, who was not
quite prepared for this method of treating the subject.

"Poor child! I pity you," sighed the lady.

"O, dear me!" cried Ann, exerting herself to the utmost to deepen the
impression she had made.

"How much do you want to make up the value of your candy?"

"Half a dollar."

"There it is, poor child! If it will save you from abuse, you are
welcome to it."

"Thank you, ma'am. It may save my life," replied Ann, as she took the
half dollar and put it in her pocket.

"What an awful liar she is!" said Katy to herself, as the lady hurried
on, probably much pleased with herself as she thought of the kind act
she supposed she had done.

Katy was curious to know what her unworthy assistant would do next, and
she followed her down Hanover Street, and saw her stop before the
American House. She could not believe that Ann would have the hardihood
to play off the same trick again so soon; and she was very much
surprised and very indignant when she saw her begin to cry with all her
might, just as she had done before. While the deceitful girl's eyes
were covered with her apron, in the extremity of her grief, Katy
contrived to get on the hotel steps behind her, so that she could see
and hear all that passed.

"What is the matter with that girl?" asked a gentleman, who presently
appeared at the door, addressing another who was just behind him.

"It is the broken candy dodge," replied the second gentleman. "That
trick has been played off a dozen times within a week."

"What does it mean?" asked the first. "I don't understand it."

The second explained the trick, precisely as Katy had just witnessed it
in Court Street.

"Now, don't say a word," he continued. "I have a counterfeit half
dollar in my pocket, and you shall see how it is done."

With this announcement of his purpose, he accosted Ann, who told him
about the same story she had told the lady, and he finally gave her the
counterfeit half dollar, which Ann did not suspect was a bad one.

"How abominably wicked she is," exclaimed Katy, as she followed her up
the street. "But I will soon spoil all her fun, and cut off her
profits. I will teach her that honesty is the best policy."

It was easier for Katy to resolve what to do than it was to do it; for
the wicked girl could easily get her stock through another person. As
she walked up the street, Ann lightened her load by eating the pieces
of broken candy, upon which she seemed to feed with hearty relish. At a
window in Court Street, Ann stopped to look at some pictures, when she
was joined by another of the candy sellers, and they walked together
till they came to an unfrequented court, which they entered. Katy could
hear enough of their conversation, as she followed them, to ascertain
that they were talking about the tricks Ann had practiced. In the court
they seated themselves on a door-stone, and as they talked and laughed
about the deceit, they ate the pieces of candy.

"There," said Ann, "I have made a dollar and ten cents this afternoon.
You don't catch me walking all over the city for twenty-four cents,
when I don't get but eight of that."

"I ain't so smart as you," modestly replied Julia Morgan, the other
girl.

"You'll learn," said Ann, as she took out her money and exhibited the
two half dollars.

"I don't think people would believe me, if I should try that game."

"Try some other. I think I shall, for I've about used up the broken
candy game."

"What other?"

"I have one," replied Ann, prudently declining to divulge her secret;
"and when I've tried it, I'll tell you all about it."

"Why don't you try it now?"

"I would if my candy wasn't broken."

"I will let you have mine."

"Then I will."

"Give me fourteen cents."

"I will when I've done with it."

"No, you don't," laughed Julia, who justly inferred that if Ann would
cheat one person, she would another.

But Ann was so much interested in the experiment that she decided to
give the fourteen cents, and took the candy. Katy wondered what the new
game could be, and wanted to see her carry it out, though her
conscience smote her for permitting the lady to be deceived, when she
could have unmasked the deceit. She resolved not to let another person
be deceived, and followed the two girls into State Street, as much for
the purpose of exposing Ann's wickedness, as to learn the trick she
intended to play.

"Now you go away," said Ann to her companion, as she placed herself on
the steps of the Merchants-Bank.

It was nearly dark by this time, and as there were but few persons in
the street, Ann did not commence her part of the performance till she
saw a well-dressed gentleman approach; whereupon she began to cry as
she had done twice before that day.

"Boo, hoo, hoo! O, dear me! I shall be killed!" cried she, so lustily,
that the well-dressed gentleman could not decently avoid inquiring the
cause of her bitter sorrow.

"I haven't sold out," sobbed Ann.

"What if you haven't? Why need you cry about it?" asked the stranger.

"My mother will kill me if I go home without half a dollar."

"She is a cruel woman, then."

"Boo, hoo, hoo! She'll beat me to death! O, dear me! I only got ten
cents."

"Why don't you fly round and sell your candy?" said the gentleman.

"I can't now, the folks have all gone, and it's almost dark. O, I wish
I was dead!"

"Well, well, don't cry any more; I'll give you half a dollar, and that
will make it all right;" and he put his hand in his pocket for the
money.

"Don't give it to her," said Katy, stepping out of the lane by the side
of the bank. "She has deceived you, sir."

"Deceived me, has she?" added the stranger as he glanced at Katy.

"Yes, sir. She has got more than a dollar in her pocket now."

"Don't you believe her," sobbed Ann, still prudently keeping up the
appearance of grief.

"How do you know she has deceived me?" asked the stranger, not a little
piqued, as he thought how readily he had credited the girl's story.

"Because I saw her play a trick just like this twice before this
afternoon. She has two half dollars in her pocket now, though one of
them is counterfeit."

"What do you mean by that, Katy Redburn?" demanded Ann, angrily, and
now forgetting her woe and her tears.

"You speak very positively," said the gentleman to Katy; "and if what
you say is true, something should be done about it."

"She is telling lies!" exclaimed Ann, much excited.

"We can soon determine, for here comes a policeman, and I will refer
the matter to him."

At these words, Ann edged off the steps of the bank, and suddenly
started off as fast as she could run, having, it seemed, a very
wholesome aversion to policemen. But she made a bad mistake, for, not
seeing in what direction the officer was approaching, she ran into the
very jaws of the lion.

"Stop her!" shouted the gentleman.

The policeman laid a rude hand upon her shoulder, and marched her back
to the bank. In a few words the gentleman stated what had happened, and
requested the officer to search her, and thus decide whether Katy told
the truth or not. He readily consented, and on turning out Ann's
pocket, produced the two half dollars, one of which the gentleman
decided was a counterfeit coin.

"How could you know this was a counterfeit?" he asked of Katy.

"I heard a gentleman at the door of the American House, who knew the
game, tell another that it was a counterfeit;" and she proceeded to
give all the particulars of the two tricks she had seen Ann play off.

"I shall have to take you to the lock-up, my little joker," said the
policeman.

"O, dear me!" cried Ann, and this time she was in earnest.

"Please don't do that!" said Katy, who had not foreseen this
consequence of the game.

"I must; it is downright swindling."

"Please don't; she has a father and mother and I dare say they will
feel very bad about it. I promise you she shall never do it again,"
pleaded Katy.

"I must do my duty. This candy trick has been played a good many times,
and has become a nuisance. I must lock her up."

"Save me, Katy, save me!" begged Ann terrified at the thought of being
put in a prison or some dreadful place.

"Why do you wish to save her?" interposed the gentleman.

"Because her mother will feel so bad; and she will lay it all to me."

Katy told him all about herself and about Ann, and he was so much
interested in her that he joined in pleading for Ann's release. The
officer was firm for a long time, but when the gentleman declared that
he should not appear against her, he decided to let her go, to Katy's
great delight, as well as to Ann's.

Humbled by the peril from which she had just escaped, Ann promised
never to be guilty of playing another trick upon travelers; but Katy
was firm in her purpose not to supply her with any more candy. She did
not dare to resent Katy's interference, for the terrors of the lock-up
were still in her mind, and she did not know but that Katy might have
her arrested and punished for what she had done, if she attempted to
retaliate upon her.

Katy was shocked at the wickedness of her companion; and, as they
walked home together she tried to make her see the enormity of her
offense, and give her some better views of her duty to her
fellow-beings. Ann heard her in silence and with humility, and the
little moralist hoped the event would result in good to her.



CHAPTER XVII.

THE SUN SETS, AND THE NIGHT COMES ON.

Having recorded the steps by which Katy had carried forward her now
flourishing trade, from the dawn of the idea up to the height of its
prosperity, we may pass over a year with only a brief note of its
principal incidents.

My young readers may have supposed that Katy and her mother had
gathered a great deal of money in the candy trade. It was not so, for
as the business increased, and Katy's labors as a saleswoman were
withdrawn, the expenses increased, and the profits were proportionally
less. And then, neither Mrs. Redburn nor her daughter had a faculty for
saving up much money; so that, though they made  considerable, their
prosperity permitted new demands to be made upon the purse. They hired
two more rooms; they replaced the clothing and furniture which had been
sacrificed under the pressure of actual want, and they lived better
than they had lived before; and Mrs. Redburn had availed herself of the
services of a distinguished physician, whose attendance had cost a
large sum. It is true they lived very well, much better than people in
their circumstances ought to have lived. Therefore, notwithstanding
their prosperity, they had saved but a small sum from the proceeds of
the year's business. They were not rich; they were simply in
comfortable circumstances, which, considering their situation when Katy
commenced business, was quite enough to render them very thankful to
the Giver of all good for the rich blessings He had bestowed upon them.

These were not all temporal blessings; if they had been, their success
would only have been partial and temporary, their prosperity only an
outward seeming, which, in the truest and highest sense, can hardly be
called prosperity; no more than if a man should gain a thousand dollars
worth of land, and lose a thousand dollars worth of stocks or
merchandise. Both Katy and her mother, while they were gathering the
treasures of this world, were also "laying up treasures in heaven,
where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt." Want had taught them its
hard lessons, and they had come out of the fiery furnace of affliction
the wiser and the better for the severe ordeal. The mother's foolish
pride had been rebuked, the daughter's true pride had been encouraged.
They had learned that faith and patience are real supports in the hour
of trial. The perilous life in the streets which Katy had led for a
time, exposed her to a thousand temptations; and she and her mother
thanked God that they had made her stronger and truer, as temptation
resisted always makes the soul. That year of experience had given Katy
a character; it expanded her views of life, and placed her in a
situation where she was early called upon to decide between the right
and the wrong; when she was required to select her path for life. She
had chosen the good way, as Ann Grippen had chosen the evil way.

I do not mean to say her character was formed, or that having chosen to
be good, she could not afterwards be evil. But the great experiences of
life which generally come in more mature years, had been forced upon
her while still a child; and nobly and truly had she taken up and borne
the burden imposed upon her. As a child she had done the duties of the
full-grown woman, and she had done them well. She had been faithful to
herself.

Providence kindly ordains that the child shall serve a long
apprenticeship before it is called upon to think and act for itself.
Katy had anticipated the period of maturity, and with the untried soul
of a child, had been compelled to grapple with its duties and its
temptations. As her opportunities to be good and do good were
increased, so was her liability to do wrong. She had her faults, great,
grave faults, but she was truly endeavoring to overcome them.

Tommy had returned from his voyage to Liverpool, and joyous was the
meeting between Katy and her sailor friend. It took him all the
evenings for a week to tell the story of his voyage, to which Mrs.
Redburn and her daughter listened with much satisfaction. He remained
at home two months, and then departed on a voyage to the East Indies.

Master Simon Sneed, after Katy's attempt to serve him, did not tell her
many more large stories about himself, for she understood him now, and
knew that he was not half so great a man as he pretended to be. In the
spring he obtained a situation in a small retail store where there was
not a very wide field for the exercise of his splendid abilities. He
had been idle all winter, and when he lamented his misfortunes to Katy,
she always asked why he did not sell candy. Once she suggested that he
should learn a trade, to which Master Simon always replied, that he was
born to be a gentleman, and would never voluntarily demean himself by
pursuing a degrading occupation. He was above being a mechanic, and he
would never soil his hands with dirty work. Katy began to think he was
really a fool. She could scarcely think him "poor and proud"; he was
only poor and foolish.

At the close of Katy's first year in trade, a great misfortune befell
her in the loss of Mrs. Colvin, her able assistant in the manufacturing
department of the business. A worthy man, who owned a little farm in
the country, tempted her with an offer of marriage, and her conscience
(I suppose) would not let her refuse it. Katy, though she was a woman,
so far as the duties and responsibilities of life were concerned, was
still a child in her feelings and affections, and cried bitterly when
they parted. The good woman was scarcely less affected, and made Katy
and her mother promise an early visit to her farm.

Katy's sorrow at parting with her beloved friend was not the only, nor
perhaps, the most important, result of Mrs. Colvin's departure, for
they were deprived of the assistance of the chief candy-puller. Katy
tried to secure another woman for this labor, but could not find a
person who would serve her in this capacity. After a vain search, Mrs.
Redburn thought she was able to do the work herself, for her health
seemed to be pretty well established. Perhaps, she reasoned, it was
quite as well that Mrs. Colvin had gone, for if she could pull the
candy herself, it would save from two to three dollars a week.

Katy would not consent that she should do it alone, but agreed to
divide the labor between them. The quantity manufactured every day was
so great that the toil of making it fell heavily upon them; but as Mrs.
Redburn did not complain, Katy was too proud to do so though her wrists
and shoulders pained her severely every night after the work was done.

This toil weighed heavily on Katy's rather feeble constitution; but all
her mother could say would not induce her to abandon the work. For a
month they got along tolerably well, and, perhaps, no evil consequences
would have followed this hard labor, if everything else had gone well
with Katy. The girls who sold the candy had for some time caused her
considerable trouble and anxiety. Very often they lost their money, or
pretended to do so, and three or four of them had resorted to Ann
Grippen's plan of playing "trick upon travelers." She had to discharge
a great many, and to accept the services of those whom she did not
know, and who, by various means, contrived to cheat her out of the
money received from the sales of the candy. These things annoyed her
very much, and she cast about her for a remedy.

One day, three girls, each of whom had been supplied with half a
dollar's worth of candy, did not appear to account for the proceeds.
Here was a loss of a dollar in one day. Such things as these are the
common trials of business; but Katy who was so scrupulously honest and
just herself, was severely tried by them. It was not the loss of the
money only, but the dishonesty of the girls that annoyed her.

"What shall be done, mother?" said she, anxiously, when the loss was
understood to be actual. "I can't find these girls. I don't even know
their names."

"Probably, if you did find them, you could not obtain any satisfaction."

"I went to see one girl's mother the other day, you know, and she drove
me out of her house, and called me vile names."

"I was thinking of a plan," continued Mrs. Redburn, "though I don't
know as it would work well."

"Anything would work better than this being constantly cheated; for it
is really worse for the girls than it is for us. I have often felt that
those who cheat us are the real sufferers. I would a good deal rather
be cheated than cheat myself."

"You are right, Katy; and that is a Christian view of the subject. I
suppose we are in duty bound to keep these girls as honest as we can."

"What is your plan, mother?" asked Katy.

"We will sell them the candy, instead of employing them to sell it for
us."

"But they won't pay us."

"Let them pay in advance. We will sell them the candy at eight cents a
dozen. Any girl who wants two dozen sticks, must bring sixteen cents."

"I don't believe we can find any customers."

"We can try it. For a time, probably, the sales will be less."

"Very well, mother, we will try it; for I think it would be better to
keep them honest, even if we don't sell more than half so much."

When the girls appeared the next morning to receive their stock, it was
announced to them that the business would thereafter be conducted on a
different basis; that they must pay for their candy before they got it,
and thus become independent merchants themselves. Most of them were
unable to comply with the terms, and begged hard to be trusted one day
more. Katy was firm, for she saw that they would be more likely to be
dishonest that day, to revenge themselves for the working of the new
system.

The girls were not all dishonest, or even a majority of them, but the
plan must be applied to all. Most of them went home, therefore, and
shortly returned with money enough to buy one or two dozen sticks. As
Mrs. Redburn had predicted, the effect of the adoption of the new plan
was unfavorable for a few days. The obstinate ones would not buy,
hoping to make the wholesale dealer go back to the old plan. After a
week or two, however, they began to come back, one by one, and the
trade rather increased than diminished; for many of the young
merchants, having the responsibility of selling out all the stock
imposed upon them, used greater exertion than before, and strong
efforts almost always produced some success.

Thus the business went on very prosperously though Mrs. Redburn and
Katy were obliged to work very hard--so hard that the former began to
experience a return of her old complaint. The affectionate daughter was
frightened when she first mentioned the fact, and begged her not to
work any more.

"What shall I do, Katy?" asked she, with a smile.

"Let me make the candy," replied Katy. "I am strong enough."

"No, Katy, you are not. I am afraid you are injuring yourself now."

"I am sure I am not. But I can't bear to think of your being sick
again."

"We must look out for our health, Katy; that ought to be the first of
our earthly considerations."

"We ought, indeed, mother; so, if you please, I shall not let you pull
any more candy."

"Shall I save my own health at the expense of yours?"

"I shall get along very well. I feel very strong."

"You are not very strong; I have reproached myself a great many times
for letting you do so much as you have. I have felt the pain for a
fortnight, and though I greatly fear I shall have a return of my
complaint, I cannot let you do all this work. We are neither of us fit
to perform such hard labor and both of us must be relieved from it. I
shall go out to-morrow, and make a business of finding a person to do
this work for us."

Mrs. Redburn did try, but she tried in vain. It was odd, queer strange
work, as the women called it, and they didn't want to do anything of
the kind. Katy proposed that they should employ a man; and when they
finally found one, he was a stupid fellow, and they much preferred to
do the work themselves, to seeing him daub the house all over with the
candy, and leave it half done.

They persevered, however, in their efforts to find a person, and after
trying half a dozen, who could not or would not do the work, they gave
it up in despair. But not long were they permitted to struggle with the
severe toil which their circumstances imposed upon them; for on the
night before Christmas, when a large demand for candy was anticipated,
and both of them had worked very hard, Mrs. Redburn fainted and fell
upon the floor. It was in this manner that she had been taken at the
commencement of her former long sickness, and to Katy the future looked
dark and gloomy. But she did not give up. She applied herself, with all
her energies, to the restoration of her mother; and when she was
partially conscious, she attempted to conduct her to the bed. The poor
woman's strength was all gone, and Katy was obliged to call in Mrs.
Howard to assist her.

Mrs. Redburn suffered the most severe and racking pains through the
night, and at about twelve o'clock, Katy went to Mr. Sneed's house, and
calling up Simon, begged him to go for a doctor. But the physician's
art seemed powerless to soothe her. All night long the devoted
daughter, like an angel of mercy, hovered around the bed, and did all
he could in vain attempts to ease the sufferer's pain.

Poor Katy! The sun of prosperity had set, and the night of adversity
was coming on.



CHAPTER XVIII.

KATY STRUGGLES BRAVELY THROUGH A SERIES OF TRIALS.

The morning sun rose clear and bright, casting a flood of light into
the chamber of the sick mother, watched over by the beloved child. It
was Christmas, and all over the Christian world arose paeans of praise
for the birth of the Saviour. The sufferer was conscious of the fact,
and a sweet smile played upon her lips, as she thought of Jesus--that
he had lived and died for her. Pain, that could rack the bones and
triumph over the weak body, was powerless to subdue the loving,
trusting spirit, that reposed gently on Him who has invited the weary
to a present and an eternal rest.

"Katy," said Mrs. Redburn, in a faint whisper.

"I am here, mother," replied she, bending over her and endeavoring to
anticipate her unspoken desire.

"Is the hymn book on the table?"

"Here it is, mother."

"Won't you read me a hymn?"

"What shall I read?" asked Katy, who could with difficulty keep back
the flood of tears that rose up from her heart.

"'Come, said Jesus' sacred voice.'"

Katy opened the book to the beautiful hymn commencing with this line,
and in a voice broken by the emotion she could not wholly control, she
read it through. The smile that played on her mother's face showed how
deep and pure was the consolation she derived from the touching poetry.
She could smile while racking pains tortured her frame, while her frail
body seemed hardly to retain its hold upon mortality. How blessed the
hope that pours its heavenly balm into the wounds of the sufferer!

Poor Katy was painfully impressed by the appearance and conduct of her
mother. She had never before seen her so calm and resigned to those
dreadful sufferings. She had heard her complain and murmur at her hard
lot, and wonder why she should be thus sorely afflicted. She feared
that some appalling event, which she dared not define and call by its
name, was about to happen. She dared not think of the future, and she
wondered that her mother could be so calm while she endured so much.

"Katy," said Mrs. Redburn, after the long silence that followed the
reading of the hymn, "I feel very weak and ill. Take my hand."

"You are burning up with fever!" exclaimed Katy, as she clasped the
hand, and felt the burning, throbbing brow of her mother.

"I am; but do not be alarmed, Katy. Can you be very calm?"

"I will try."

"For I feel very sick, but I am very happy. I can almost believe that
the triumph of faith has already begun in my soul. The world looks very
dim to me."

"Nay, mother, don't say so."

"I only mean that as heaven seems nearer, my hold upon earth is less
strong. You must be very resolute, my child, for I feel as though the
sands of life were fast ebbing out; and that in a few hours more I
shall be 'where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at
rest.' If it were not for leaving you, Katy, I could wish to bid
farewell to earth, and go up to my eternal home, even on this bright,
beautiful Christmas day."

"O mother!" sobbed Katy, unable any longer to restrain the expression
of her emotion.

"Do not weep, my child; I may be mistaken; yet I feel as though God was
about to end my sufferings on earth, and I am willing to go."

"O, no, mother! It cannot be!" exclaimed Katy, gazing earnestly,
through her tearful eyes, upon the pale but flushed cheek of the
patient sufferer.

"I only wish to prepare you for the worst. I may get well; and for your
sake, I have prayed that I may. And, Katy, I have never before felt
prepared to leave this world, full of trial and sorrow as it has been
for me. Whatever of woe, and want, and disappointment it has been my
lot to confront, has been a blessing in disguise. I feel like a new
creature. I feel reconciled to live or die, as God ordains."

"Do not look on the dark side, mother," sobbed Katy.

"Nay, child, I am looking on the bright side," returned Mrs. Redburn,
faintly. "Everything looks bright to me now. Life looks bright, and I
feel that I could be happy for many years with you, for you have been a
good daughter. Death looks bright, for it is the portal of the temple
eternal in the heavens, where is joy unspeakable. I am too weak to talk
more, Katy; you may read me a chapter from the New Testament."

The devoted daughter obeyed this request, and she had scarcely finished
the chapter before the girls came for their candy. She was unwilling to
leave her mother alone even for a minute; so she sent one of them over
to request the attendance of Mrs. Howard, and the good woman took her
place by the side of the sufferer.

Katy, scarcely conscious what she was doing--for her heart was with her
mother,--supplied each girl with her stock of candy, and received the
money for it.

"You need not come to-morrow," she said to them, as they were departing.

"Not come!" exclaimed several. "What shall we do for candy?"

"We cannot make any now; my mother is very sick."

"I get my living by selling candy," said one of them. "I shan't have
anything to pay my board if I can't sell candy."

"Poor Mary! I am sorry for you."

This girl was an orphan whose mother had recently died, and she had
taken up the business of selling candy, which enabled her to pay fifty
cents a week for her board, at the house of a poor widow. Katy knew her
history, and felt very sad as she thought of her being deprived of the
means of support.

"I don't know what I shall do," sighed Mary.

"I have to take care of my mother now, and shall not have time to make
candy," said Katy.

"Do you mean to give up for good?" asked one of them.

"I don't know."

This question suggested some painful reflections to Katy. If they
stopped making candy, she and her mother, as well as orphan Mary, would
be deprived of the means of support. She trembled as she thought of the
future, even when she looked forward only a few weeks. There was not
more than ten dollars in the house, for they had but a short time
before paid for their winter's coal, and at considerable expense
largely replenished their wardrobes. The rent would be due in a week,
and it would require more than half they had to pay it.

Katy was appalled as she thought of the low state of their purse, and
dreaded lest some fearful calamity might again overtake them. It was
plain to her that she could not give up her business, even for a week,
without the danger of being again reduced to actual want. She therefore
reversed her decision, and told the girls they might come as usual the
next day.

When they had gone she shed a few bitter tears at the necessity which
the circumstances imposed upon her of working while her heart revolted
at the idea of being anywhere but at the bedside of her sick mother.
Then she lamented that they had not dispensed with many articles of
luxury while they had plenty of money, and saved more of it for such a
sad time as the present. But it was of no use to repine; she had only
to make the best of her situation.

Amid all these discouragements came a bright ray of sunshine--the
brightest that could possibly have shone on the pathway of the weeping
daughter.

Early in the forenoon came the physician who carefully examined his
patient, speaking cheerfully and kindly to her all the while. The
sufferer watched his expression very narrowly, as he bent over her and
questioned her in regard to her pains. He looked very serious, which
Mrs. Redburn interpreted as unfavorable to her recovery, not
considering that he was engaged in profound thought, and therefore his
countenance would naturally wear an earnest look. Presently she sent
Katy to get her some drink, not because she wanted it, but to procure
her absence for a short time.

"Do you think I shall get well?" asked Mrs. Redburn, as soon as the
door closed behind Katy.

"A person who is very sick, is of course, always in danger, which may
be more or less imminent," replied the doctor, with professional
indirectness.

"I beg of you, doctor, do not conceal from me my true situation."

"I cannot foresee the result, my good woman."

"Do you think there is any hope for me?"

"Certainly there is."

"Tell me, I implore you, what you think of my case," pleaded the
sufferer, in feeble tones. "I felt this morning that my end was very
near."

"O, no; it is not so bad as that. I should say you had as many as five
chances in ten to be on your feet in a fortnight."

"Do you think so?"

"I do not regard your case as a critical one."

"I wish you had told me so last night. It would have saved my poor
child a very bitter pang."

"I was not aware that you thought yourself alarmingly sick, or I
certainly should; for such an opinion on your part would do more to
bring about a fatal result than could be counteracted by the most
skilful treatment. A physician does not hold the issues of life and
death; he can only assist nature, as the patient may by a cheerful view
of his case. This is not your old complaint; you have taken cold, and
have considerable fever; but I think it is a very hopeful case."

The return of Katy interrupted the conversation; but the doctor's
opinion was immediately imparted to her, and it sent a thrill of joy to
her heart.

"I was low-spirited this morning, Katy," said Mrs. Redburn, when the
physician had gone. "I really felt as though my end was rapidly
approaching. I am sorry I mentioned my thoughts to you."

"It was all for the best, I suppose," replied Katy.

But Mrs. Redburn was very sick; and even now the disease might have a
fatal termination. The best of care would be required to restore her to
health, and Katy was very anxious. Her mother was still suffering the
most acute pain.

The doctor had left a prescription, and Katy was again obliged to call
in Mrs. Howard while she went to the apothecary's to procure it; but
the good woman declared she was glad to come, and would bring her work
and stay all the forenoon. The medicine, when obtained, to some extent
relieved the sufferer's pain.

As her presence was not required in the chamber, Katy went down-stairs
to what she called the candy room. She had an hour or two to spare, and
she put on the kettle with the intention of making a part of the next
day's candy. She was nearly worn out by watching and anxiety, and not
fit to perform such hard work; but weak and weary as she felt, her
spirit was still earnest, and she resolutely commenced her labors.

At noon she had made half the quantity required. Mrs. Howard was then
obliged to go home, and attend to her own family, for she had two
children besides Tommy, who had not yet returned from the East Indies.
Mrs. Redburn was very restless during the afternoon, and could not be
left alone for more than a short time at once. Mrs. Howard had promised
to come again in the evening, and make the rest of the candy; but
Charley came home from school quite sick, seemingly threatened with the
scarlet fever, so that she could not keep her promise. Mrs. Sneed,
however, dropped in, and consented to remain for two hours, which
enabled Katy to make the rest of the candy.

By this time the poor girl was completely worn out. Her resolute will,
even, could no longer impart its strength to the body. Her mother
worried sadly about her, and finally induced her to lie down on the bed
by her side, on condition that she should be awakened in an hour. In
this manner she obtained a few hours' sleep during the night; but these
severe labors were a fearful task to be imposed upon a mere child.

The next day Mrs. Redburn, who could not fail to observe Katy's pale
face and sunken eye, fretted so much about her that she was obliged to
promise she would not attempt to make any more candy. Mrs. Howard's son
was still very sick, so that she was unable to render much assistance.
The rest of the neighbors, though kindly disposed, had their own
families to care for, and could do very little for others.

With what slight aid her friends could afford, Katy struggled through a
week, when Dr. Flynch appeared, and demanded the rent. There was but
little more than money enough left to pay it, but Katy would not ask
him for any indulgence, and paid him in full.

In a few days more the purse was empty. Katy's most dreaded hour had
come. She had no money, and almost every day some new thing was
required for her mother. But this time she had friends, and she
determined to use them, as all true friends wish to be used in the day
of sorrow and trial. After considerable debate with herself, she
decided to apply to Mrs. Gordon for a loan of twenty dollars. She was
still poor and proud, and she could not endure the thought of asking a
loan, which might be regarded as a gift, or which, by her own inability
to pay it, might virtually become such; therefore she proposed to
present her father's silver watch as security for the payment of the
debt.



CHAPTER XIX.

KATY RESORTS TO A LOAN.

Katy was not at all pleased with the mission which her duty seemed to
impose upon her. Again she felt the crushing weight of poverty, and
pride rose up to throw obstacles in her path. She was a child of
twelve, and to ask a loan of twenty dollars, though she offered
sufficient security for the payment of the debt, seemed like demanding
a great deal of her friends--like inviting them to repose a vast amount
of confidence in her ability and honesty. They would not want the
watch; it would be of no value to them; and the more she considered the
matter, the more like an act of charity appeared the favor she was
about to ask.

More than once on her way to Temple Street did she stop short, resolved
to get the money of some other person--the grocer, Mr. Sneed, or even
of a pawnbroker; but as often she rebuked the pride that tormented her
like a demon, and went forward again. She stood some time at Mrs.
Gordon's door before she had the resolution to ring the bell.

"What right have I to be so proud?" said she, grasping the bell handle.
"I must get this money, or my mother may suffer."

She rang with a force that must have astonished Michael, and led him to
think some extraordinary character had arrived; for he ran to the door
at full speed, and burst out into a violent fit of laughter, when he
saw no one but the little candy merchant.

"Good morning, to you, Katy. Are you nervous this morning?" said he.

"Good morning, Michael. I am not very nervous."

"I thought you would pull down the bell," he added, good-naturedly.

"I didn't mean to, Michael; I hope you will excuse me if I did any
harm."

"Not a bit of harm; but you're looking as sober as a deacon. What ails
you, Katy?"

"I feel very sad, Michael; for my mother is very sick, and I don't know
as she will ever get well."

"Indeed? I'm sorry to hear that of her;" and Michael, whatever he felt,
looked very much concerned about Mrs. Redburn's health.

"Is Mrs. Gordon at home?"

"She isn't."

"Is Miss Grace?"

"Neither of them; they went to Baltimore ten days ago but I am
expecting them back every day."

Katy's heart sank within her; for now that Mrs. Gordon was not at hand,
she did not feel like asking any other person; and if the case had not
been urgent, she would have been satisfied to return home, and regard
the lady's absence as a sufficient excuse for not procuring the money.

"You want to see her very much?" asked Michael.

"Very much, indeed."

"Can I be of any service to you?"

"No, Michael."

"Perhaps I can, Katy."

"No, I'm much obliged to you."

"If it's anything in the house you want, I can get it for you."

"No, I must see Mrs. Gordon."

"If it's any nice preserve or jelly you want just say the word, and
I'll bring it to you at once."

"I do not want anything of that kind. Do you think Mrs. Gordon will
return by to-morrow?"

"I thought she would be here yesterday, and she may come to-night."

"Very well; I will, perhaps, call again to-morrow," and she turned to
leave.

"I'll tell Mrs. Gordon you came. Stop a minute, Katy. Won't you tell me
what you want?"

"I would rather not, Michael; but I will come again to-morrow."

"See here, Katy; maybe you're short of money. If you are, I have a
matter of three hundred dollars in the Savings Bank; and you may be
sure you shall have every cent of it if you want it."

This was a very liberal offer, though it is probable he did not think
she would want any considerable portion of it, or that she could even
comprehend the meaning of so large a sum. Katy was sorely tempted to
negotiate with him for the loan but she was not sure that it would be
proper to borrow money of the servant, and perhaps Mrs. Gordon would
not like it.

"I thank you, Michael; you are very kind, but I think I would rather
see Mrs. Gordon."

"I have a matter of five or six dollars in my pocket now; and it
that'll be of any service to you, take it and welcome."

Katy stopped to think. A few dollars would be all that she needed
before the return of Mrs. Gordon; and yet she did not feel like
accepting it. What would the lady say on her return, when told that she
had borrowed money of her servant? Yet the servant had a kind heart,
and really desired to serve her. Was it not pride that prevented her
from accepting his offer? Did she not feel too proud to place herself
under obligations to the servant? She felt rebuked at her presumption;
for what right had she to make such distinctions? If she had been a
lady, like Mrs. Gordon, she might have been excusable for cherishing
such pride; but she was a poor girl; she was actually in want.

"Michael, you are so good, that I will tell you my story," said she,
conquering her repugnance.

"Just come in the house, then;" and he led her into the sitting-room;
being, in the absence of the mistress, the lord and master of the
mansion, and feeling quite at home in that position.

In a few words she explained to him her situation, though her
rebellious pride caused her to paint the picture in somewhat brighter
colors than the truth would justify. She stated her intention to borrow
twenty dollars of Mrs. Gordon, and offer her the watch as security, at
the same time exhibiting the cherished treasure.

"Now Michael, if you will lend me three dollars till Mrs. Gordon
returns, I will pay you then, for I know she will let me have the
money; or at least let me have enough to pay you," continued she, when
she had finished her narrative.

"Indeed I will, Katy!" exclaimed he, promptly pulling out his wallet.
"And if you will come at this time to-morrow, you shall have the whole
twenty dollars."

"Thank you, Michael."

"There's six dollars; take it, Katy, and my blessing with it."

"Only three dollars, Michael," replied Katy, firmly.

Michael insisted, but all his persuasion would not induce her to accept
more than the sum she had mentioned, and he was reluctantly compelled
to yield the point.

"Here is the watch, Michael; you shall keep that till I pay you."

"Is it me!" exclaimed he, springing to his feet, with an expression
very like indignation on his countenance. "Sure, you don't think I'd
take the watch."

"Why not you as well as Mrs. Gordon?" asked Katy.

"She didn't take it," replied Michael triumphantly. "You couldn't make
her take it, if you try a month. Don't I know Mrs. Gordon?"

"But please to take it; I should feel much better if you would."

"Bad luck to me if I do! I wouldn't take it to save my neck from the
gallows. Where's my Irish heart? Did I leave it at home, or did I bring
it with me to America?"

"If you will not take it, Michael----"

"I won't."

"If you won't, I will say no more about it," replied Katy, as she
returned the watch to her pocket. "You have got a very kind heart, and
I shall never forget you as long as I live."

Katy, after glancing at the portrait of the roguish lady that hung in
the room, took leave of Michael, and hastened home. On her way, she
could not banish the generous servant from her mind. She could not
understand why he should be so much interested in her as to offer the
use of all he had; and she was obliged to attribute it all to the
impulses of a kind heart. If she had been a little older, she might
have concluded that the old maxim, slightly altered would explain the
reason: "Like mistress, like man," that the atmosphere of kindness and
charity that pervaded the house had inspired even the servants.

"Where have you been, Katy?" asked Mrs. Redburn, as she entered the
sick chamber, and Mrs. Sneed hastened home.

"I have been to Mrs. Gordon."

"What for?"

Katy did not like to tell. She knew it would make her mother feel very
unhappy to know that she had borrowed money of Mrs. Gordon's servant.

"Oh, I went up to see her," replied Katy.

"No matter, if you don't like to tell me," faintly replied Mrs. Redburn.

"I will tell you, mother," answered Katy, stung by the gentle rebuke
contained in her mother's words.

"I suppose our money is all gone," sighed the sick woman.

"No, mother; see here! I have three dollars," and Katy pulled out her
porte-monnaie, anxious to save her even a moment of uneasiness.

But in taking out the money she exhibited the watch also, which at once
excited Mrs. Redburn's curiosity.

"What have you been doing with that, Katy?" she asked. "Ah, I fear I
was right. We have no money! Our business is gone! Alas, we have
nothing to hope for!"

"O, no, mother, it is not half so bad as that!" exclaimed Katy. "I went
up to Mrs. Gordon for the purpose of borrowing twenty dollars of her; I
didn't want it to look like charity, so I was going to ask her to keep
the watch till it was paid. That's all, mother."

"And she refused?"

"No; she was not at home."

"But your money is not all gone?"

Katy wanted to say it was not, but her conscience would not let her
practise deception. She had the three dollars which she had just
borrowed of Michael, and that was not all gone. But this was not the
question her mother asked, and it would be a lie to say the money was
not all gone, when she fully understood the meaning of the question.
Perhaps it was for her mother's good to deceive her; but she had been
taught to feel that she had no right to do evil that good might follow.

"It was all gone, but I borrowed three dollars," she replied, after a
little hesitation.

"Of whom?"

"Of Michael."

"Who's he?"

"Mrs. Gordon's man.

"O Katy! How could you do so?" sighed Mrs. Redburn.

"I couldn't help it, mother. He would make me take it;" and she gave
all the particulars of her interview with Michael and reviewed the
considerations which had induced her to accept the loan.

"Perhaps you are right, Katy. My pride would not have let me borrow of
a servant; but it is wicked for me to cherish such a pride. I try very
hard to banish it."

"Don't talk any more now, mother. We are too poor to be too proud to
accept a favor of one who is in a humble station." replied Katy.

"I don't know what will become of us," said Mrs. Redburn, as she turned
her head away to hide the tears that flooded her eyes.

Katy took up the Bible that lay by the bedside, and turning to the
twenty-third psalm, she read, "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not
want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside
the still waters."

"Go on, Katy; those words are real comfort," said Mrs. Redburn, drying
her tears. "I know it is wicked for me to repine."

Katy read the whole psalm, and followed it with others, which produced
a healing influence upon her mother's mind, and she seemed to forget
that the purse was empty, and that they had placed themselves under
obligations to a servant.

The sufferer rested much better than usual that night, and Katy was
permitted to sleep the greater part of the time--a boon which her
exhausted frame very much needed. About ten o'clock in the forenoon,
Michael paid her a visit, to inform her that Mrs. Gordon had just
arrived: and that, when he mentioned her case, she had sent him down to
request her immediate attendance and that his mistress would have come
herself, only she was so much fatigued by her journey.

Katy could not leave then, for she had no one to stay with her mother;
but Mrs. Sneed could come in an hour. Michael hastened home with the
intelligence that Mrs. Redburn was better, and Katy soon followed him.



CHAPTER XX.

MRS. GORDON FEELS FAINT, AND KATY ENTERS A NEW SPHERE.

On her arrival at Temple Street, Katy was promptly admitted by Michael,
and shown in the sitting-room, where Mrs. Gordon and Grace were waiting
for her.

"I was very sorry to hear that your mother is sick, Katy," said the
former; "and I should have paid you a visit, instead of sending for
you, if I had not been so much exhausted by my journey from Baltimore."

"You are very kind, ma'am."

"Did Dr. Flynch call upon you at the first of the month?"

"Yes, ma'am; and we paid the rent as usual," replied Katy.

"I am sorry you did so, Katy; you should have told him you were not in
a condition to pay the rent."

"I couldn't tell him so, he is so cold and cruel."

"I think you misjudge him, for he has a really kind heart, and would
not have distressed you for all the world. Besides, I told him he need
not collect your rent any time when you did not feel ready to pay it. I
hope he gave you no trouble?"

"No, ma'am; I didn't give him a chance, for I paid him as soon as he
demanded it; though it took nearly all the money we had. I hope you
will excuse me, ma'am, but I haven't liked him since the trouble we had
a year ago, when he accused my dear mother of telling a lie."

"Perhaps he was hasty."

"I forgive him, ma'am; but I can't help thinking he is a very wicked
man," answered Katy, with considerable emphasis.

"I hope not so bad as that; for I am sure, if you had told him it was
not convenient for you to pay the rent, he would not have insisted. But
you want some assistance Katy?"

"Yes, ma'am; that is, I want to borrow some money," replied Katy,
blushing deeply.

"That's just like you," interposed Grace, laughing. "I suppose you will
want to give your note this time."

"I don't care about giving a note, but I mean to pay the money back
again, every cent of it."

"And the interest too, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Katy, though she had not a very clear idea of the value of
money, as an article of merchandise.

"Don't distress her, Grace; you forget that her mother is very sick,
and she cannot feel like listening to your pleasantries," said Mrs.
Gordon.

"Forgive me, Katy," replied Grace, tenderly.

Katy burst into tears, though she could not exactly tell why. She was
overcome with emotion as the beautiful young lady took her hand, and
looked so sorrowfully in her face. She was not used to so much
kindness, so much sympathy, so much love; for it seemed as though both
Grace and her mother loved her--that their hearts beat with hers.

"Don t cry, Katy; I am sorry I said a word," pleaded Grace. "I would
not have hurt your feelings for all the world."

"You did not hurt my feelings; you are so kind to me that I could not
help crying. I suppose I am very silly."

"No, you are not, Katy; now dry up your tears, and tell us all about
it," added Mrs. Gordon, in soothing tones. "How long has your mother
been sick?"

"Almost two weeks."

"What ails her?"

"She has got a fever; but she is much better to-day. The doctor says
she hasn't got it very bad; but she has been very sick, I think."

"Who takes care of her?"

"I do, ma'am."

"You! She must need a great deal of attention. But who takes care of
her at night?"

"I do, ma'am. I have been up a great deal every night."

"Poor child! It is enough to wear you out."

"I wouldn't mind it at all, if I had nothing else to trouble me."

"What other troubles have you?"

"I can't make any candy now, and haven't made any for nearly a
fortnight; so that we have no money coming in. We spent nearly all we
had in buying our winter clothing and fuel. It worries me very much,
for we had plenty of money before mother was taken sick."

"I hope you haven't wanted for anything."

"No, ma'am; for when my purse was empty, I came up here, only
yesterday, to borrow some of you, if you would please to lend it me."

"Certainly, I will, my child. I am very glad you came."

"Michael would make me tell what I wanted, and then he let me have
three dollars, and offered to let me have as much as I wanted. I didn't
know as you would like it if I borrowed money of your servant."

"You did just right: and I am glad that Michael has a kind heart. Now,
how much money do you want?"

"I thought I would ask you to lend me twenty dollars; and just as soon,
after mother gets well, as I can gather the money together, I will pay
you--and the interest," she added, glancing at Grace.

"Now, Katy, that is too bad!" exclaimed Grace, catching her by the
hand, while a tear started from her eye. "You know I didn't mean that."

"I know you didn't; but I don't know much about such things, and
thought likely it was right for us to pay interest, if we borrowed
money."

"I should be very glad to give you twenty dollars, Katy, if you would
only let me; for I am rich, as well as mother, and I certainly should
not think of taking interest."

"We will say no more about that," interrupted Mrs. Gordon. "I will let
you have the money with the greatest pleasure, for I know you will make
good use of it."

"I will, indeed."

"And you must promise me that you will not distress yourself to pay it
again," continued the kind lady, as she took out her purse.

"I will not distress myself, but I will pay it as soon as I can."

"You must not be too proud."

"No, ma'am; but just proud enough."

"Yes, that's it," replied Mrs. Gordon, smiling. "Pride is a very good
thing in its place. It keeps people from being mean and wicked
sometimes."

"That's true pride," added Katy.

"Yes; for there is a false pride, which makes people very silly and
vain; which keeps them from doing their duty very often. You have none
of this kind of pride."

"I hope not."

"Your friend Simon Sneed, whom the mayor spoke to me about, affords us
a very good example of the folly of cherishing false pride. Where is
Simon now?"

"He keeps a store in Washington Street. He is a salesman now, and I
don't think he is so foolish as he was."

"Perhaps the lesson he learned did him good. But I am keeping you away
from your mother, Katy. Who stays with her while you are away?"

"Mrs. Sneed--Simon's mother."

"Then she is a good woman."

"And Simon is very kind; he has done a great many things for me, and I
hope I shall be able to do something for him one of these days."

"That's right, Katy. Think well of your friends, though others speak
ill of them," said Grace. "Ah, there comes the carriage. I am going
home with you, Katy, to see your mother."

"You are very kind, Miss Grace."

"Here is the money," added Mrs. Gordon, handing her a little roll of
bills.

"Thank you, ma'am," replied Katy, as she placed the money in her
porte-monnaie. "But----"

Here she came to a full stop, and her face was as crimson as a blush
rose, but she took out the silver watch, and approached Mrs. Gordon.

"What were you going to say, Katy?"

"I brought this watch up," stammered she.

"What for?"

"You know I am a poor girl, my mother is a poor woman, and we didn't
want you to think you were giving us the money, for we are very proud;
that is, my mother is very proud, and so am I; and----"

Here Katy drew a long breath, and came to a full stop again, unable to
say what she wanted to say.

"If you want anything else, Katy, don't hesitate to mention it; for I
will not do anything to mortify your pride, even if it is
unreasonable," said Mrs. Gordon. "I understand you perfectly; the
twenty dollars is not a gift, but a loan."

"Yes, ma'am; but if we should never be able to pay it, then it would be
a gift."

"No, it wouldn't."

"I think so; and so I brought this watch, which you will please to take
as security for the payment of the loan," said Katy, much confused, as
she offered the watch to Mrs. Gordon.

"My dear child, I do not want any security. Your word is just as good
as your bond."

"But I would rather you would take it. My mother is prouder than I am,
for she wasn't always as poor as she is now."

Katy suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth, when she recollected
that this was a forbidden topic.

"Some time you may tell me all about your mother; and I will call and
see her to-morrow, and help you take care of her."

"Please to take the watch, ma'am."

"If you very much desire it, I shall do so, though I cannot take it as
security. Is this the watch you carried to the pawnbroker?" said Mrs.
Gordon as she took the treasure.

"Yes, ma'am. It belonged to my father."

Mrs. Gordon turned over the watch, and looked at it with considerable
interest, as she thought of it as a memento of the dead, and how highly
it must be prized by the poor woman.

"Mercy, what's this!" exclaimed she, starting back, and staggering
towards her chair.

"What is the matter, mother?" cried Grace, running to her side. "Are
you ill?"

"No, Grace; that inscription!" replied Mrs. Gordon, faintly, for she
seemed very deeply moved, and on the point of swooning. "Bring me a
glass of water."

There was no water in the room, but Michael was in the entry, and was
dispatched to procure it. He returned in a moment, and when Mrs. Gordon
had in some measure recovered from the sudden shock she pointed to the
inscription on the back of the watch:--

                  "M. G.
                    to
                   J. R.
              All for the Best."


"What does, it mean, mother? I do not see anything very strange about
that."

"I have seen this watch before," she replied, stopping to think. "Where
did your mother get this watch, Katy?" she asked, as it occurred to her
that she might be arriving at a conclusion too suddenly.

"It was my father's."

"Where did your father get it? Did you ever hear your mother say?"

"Yes, ma'am; her father, who was a rich Liverpool merchant, gave it to
her husband, my father," replied Katy, who felt justified in revealing
what her mother had told her to keep secret.

"Mercy!" gasped Mrs. Gordon, almost overcome by her emotions.

"What is the matter, mother? What has all this to do with you?" asked
Grace, anxiously.

"Come here, Katy, my child," continued Mrs. Gordon, as she drew the
little candy merchant to her side, and warmly embraced her. "Your
mother, Katy, is my sister, I have scarcely a doubt."

"Why, mother! Is it possible?" exclaimed Grace.

"It is even so. Mrs. Redburn, whose name we have often heard mentioned
without thinking it might be the wife of John Redburn, my father's
clerk, is my sister. I had given her up, and have regarded her as dead
for more than ten years. But, Grace, get my things, and I will go to
her at once."

"Is that your portrait, ma'am?" asked Katy, pointing to the picture of
the mischievous lady.

"No, child; that is your mother's portrait."

"I almost knew it."

"It was taken when she was only sixteen years old. She was a gay, wild
girl then. I suppose she is sadly changed now."

The thought completely overcame Mrs. Gordon, and throwing herself upon
a sofa, she wept like a child. She thought of her sister suffering from
poverty and want, while she had been rolling in opulence and plenty.
Grace tried to comfort her, but it was some time  before she was in a
condition to enter the carriage which was waiting at the door.

"What an adventure, mother!" exclaimed Grace, as she seated herself by
the side of Katy; and it was evident she had a vein of the romantic in
her composition.

"Do not talk to me, Grace. My heart is too full for words."

"But I may talk to Katy--may I not?"

"Yes."

"Well, cousin Katy," laughed Grace; "I shall call you cousin, though
you are not really my cousin."

"Not your cousin?" said Katy, a shade of disappointment crossing her
animated features.

"No; for Mrs. Gordon is not really my mother; only my stepmother; but
she is just as good as a real mother, for I never knew any other. Dear
me! how strange all this is! And you will go up and live with us in
Temple Street, and----"

"I can't leave my mother," interrupted Katy.

"You mother shall go, too."

"She is too sick now."

Grace continued to talk as fast as she could, laying out ever so many
plans for the future, till the carriage reached Colvin Court. I will
not follow them into the chamber of the sick woman; where Mrs. Gordon,
by a slow process that did not agitate the invalid too violently,
revealed herself to her sister. The fine lady of Temple Street had a
heart, a warm and true heart, and not that day, nor that night, nor for
a week, did she leave the sick bed of the sufferer. There, in the midst
of her sister's poverty, she did a sister's offices.

It was three weeks before Mrs. Redburn was in a condition to be moved
to her sister's house; and then she was once more in the midst of the
luxury and splendor of her early life. One day, when she had improved
so much as to be able to bear the fatigue of a long conversation, Mrs.
Gordon, who had thus far declined to discuss any exciting topics with
the invalid proposed to have everything explained. Each had a very long
story to tell; but as the reader already knows Mrs. Redburn's history,
I shall only briefly narrate that of Mrs. Gordon and the Guthrie
family, after the departure of the former.

Mr. Guthrie, the father of both, died two years after the flight of
Margaret--Mrs. Redburn--when of course there was a large property to be
divided. Diligent search was made for Margaret in America but her
husband had declared to some person in Liverpool that he had an
engagement in Montreal. This place was thoroughly canvassed, but
without success. No trace of the runaways could be discovered. Agents
were sent to various parts of America, and no tidings of Margaret had
ever reached them.

About two year after her father's death, Jane--Mrs. Gordon--had married
a very wealthy gentleman from Baltimore. He was then a widower with one
child--Grace Gordon. She had come to America with him, and resided in
Baltimore till his death, a period of only two years. Then, having
never liked to live in that city, she had removed to Boston, where she
had a few friends. She had invested her money and resided there, very
happily situated, and with no desire to return to her native land.

Her father's estate had been divided, and the portion which belonged to
Margaret was held in trust for seven years--when the law presumed she
was dead--and was then delivered to her sister, who was the only
remaining heir. Now that she had appeared, it was promptly paid over to
her, and Mrs. Redburn, before poor and proud, was now rich, and
humility never sat more gracefully on the brow of woman than on hers.

Katy and her mother had entered upon a new life, and in the midst of
luxury and splendor, they could not forget the past nor cease to thank
God for His past and present mercies. Mrs. Gordon used to declare it
was strange she had never thought that Mrs. Redburn might be her
sister; but it was declared that stranger things than that had happened.

Katy continued to go to school with great regularity, and became an
excellent scholar. She was beloved by all her companions and Grace, who
was married shortly after Katy entered the family, always regarded her
with the affection of a sister, insisting that she should spend half
the time at her house. Mrs. Redburn was soon completely restored to
health. She had a fortune to manage now, and when Dr. Flynch proposed
to collect her rents and take charge of her affairs, she respectfully
declined the offer. Mrs. Gordon did not like him as well as formerly,
for her sister had opened her eyes in regard to his true character, and
she soon found an opportunity to discharge him.

Having carried Katy through her principal troubles and chronicled the
rise and fall of the candy trade we shall step forward ten years to
take a final look at her and her friends, and then bid them farewell.



CHAPTER XXI.

KATY GOES TO CHURCH, AND HAS A BIRTHDAY PARTY.

Ten years is a long time--long enough to change the child into a woman,
the little candy merchant into a fine lady. I suppose, therefore, that
my young friends will need to be introduced to Miss Redburn. There she
sits in the pleasant apartment in Temple Street, where the picture of
the mischievous girl still hangs, though it looks very little like the
matron at her side, for whom it was taken. She is not beautiful enough
to be the heroine of a romance, neither has she done any absurd thing;
she has only supported her mother when she had no one else to care for
her. But Katy is irresistible if she is not pretty. She still looks as
pleasant as a morning in June, and smiles sweetly when any one speaks
to her and when she speaks to any one.

I am sorry I cannot inform my young lady friends how Miss Redburn was
dressed, or how she proposed to dress, at her birthday party, which was
to come off the following week--what silks, what laces what muslins,
and what jewels she was to wear. I can only say that she was dressed
very plainly, and that her garments were exceedingly becoming; and that
she had steadily resisted the solicitations of sundry French milliners
and dressmakers to exceed her usual simplicity at the party--and I
cordially command her example to all young ladies.

While Miss Redburn sat at the window, the doorbell rang with great
violence; and Michael--yes, Michael--he is still there, a veteran in
the service of Mrs. Gordon, and fully believing that Katy is an
angel--Michael hastened to admit Grace. She is a little older than when
we saw her last, but she is the same Grace. She enters the room, kisses
Katy with as much zeal as though she had not seen her for months,
though they had met the day before. She had scarcely saluted her cousin
before a little fat man of six came tumbling into the room, for he had
not been able to keep up with his mother.

"Come, aunty," said little Tommy, who persisted in calling her by this
title, as he rolled up to Miss Redburn, who gave him a hearty
kiss--"come, aunty, I want you to come right down into the kitchen, and
make me a lot of molatheth candy."

"Not now, Tommy"--would you believe it, reader? that little boy's name
is Thomas Howard Parker--"not now, Tommy. I came to tell you, Katy,
that the King of the Billows has been telegraphed."

"Has she?" exclaimed Katy, a deep blush suffusing her cheek.

"Yes; and you must go right down to the wharf, or we shall not be in
season to see Captain Howard, who is coming up in a pilot boat."

Miss Redburn hastened to put on her things, and she and Mrs. Parker
seated themselves in the carriage that waited them.

Of course, you know Captain Howard, reader? He has followed the sea
only eleven years; and though but twenty-five years old, he is the
commander of a fine clipper, and sails in the Liverpool line. He is
frequently quoted as an example of what patient perseverance will
accomplish; for, with very little aid from friends, he has worked his
way from the forecastle into the cabin. He is a self-educated man, and
has the reputation of being a thorough sailor and a perfect gentleman.

Pursuant to a little arrangement made between Captain Howard and Miss
Redburn, just as he departed on this voyage, they were both seen in
church on the following Thursday afternoon; and when they came out,
people addressed Katy as Mrs. Howard. But to pass on to the occasions
which she had chosen to call a birthday party, though it was not
exactly that; and as it came immediately after the church service, some
called it a levee.

There are a great many persons in the Gordon mansion, as many as two
hundred, I should think. Of course, I cannot stop to introduce all of
them, but there are a few who deserve this favor.

"Mr. Sneed, I am delighted to see you," said Mrs. Howard, as a very
tall and very slim gentleman, elegantly dressed, approached.

"You do me honor, madam. It is the superlative felicity of my sublunary
existence to congratulate you on this auspicious occasion," replied Mr.
Sneed, as he gently pressed the gloved hand of the lady.

That sounds just like Master Simon Sneed, only very much intensified.
Simon is a salesman still in a large establishment--has never risen
above that position and probably never will; for, born to be a
gentleman, he feels as much above his business as his business really
is above him.

Simon's father and mother say a pleasant word to the bride, and pass
on. And here comes a great fat woman, whose tongue flies like the
shuttle in a loom. Well, it is the captain's mother. Since her son has
been prosperous, she has had an easy time of it, and has grown very
corpulent.

"Who do you think has come, Katy?" puffed Mrs. Howard.

"I don't know. Who?"

"Mrs. Colvin, that was! Mrs. McCarty, that is."

Some of the very good-natured people laughed, and some of the very
fastidious ones turned up their noses, when they saw Mrs. McCarty so
warmly received by the bride; but she did not care who laughed or who
sneered; she was not too proud to welcome, in the hour of prosperity
and happiness, those who had been her friends in adversity.

"Mrs. Howard, I congratulate you," said a fat man, who was puffing and
blowing at the heat of the room.

It was an ex-mayor and after he had said a few pleasant words, he
passed on to make room for a hundred more who were waiting to speak to
the bride.

That was a very pleasant party; but as we are opposed to crowded rooms
and late hours, we may as well retire.

The next day the happy couple started upon a bridal tour, and on their
return, Captain Howard sailed for Liverpool, in his fine ship, with
Mrs. Howard as a passenger.

And now my young friend, adieu. If you are poor, don't be too proud to
work at any honest occupation; but be too proud to do wrong--too proud
to degrade yourself in your own eyes, by doing a mean act; and in this
sense you may truly be "Poor and Proud."





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Poor and Proud, or the Fortunes of Katy Redburn: a Story for Young Folks" ***

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