wife of the night’s adventure until after his meeting appointed for the next day. Then if any advantage accrued to him from it, he would tell the whole at once.
When he reached home, Mrs. Crump was sewing beside the fire. Aunt Rachel sat with her hands folded in her lap, with an air of martyr-like resignation to the woes of life.
“I’ve brought you home a paper, Aunt Rachel,” said the cooper, cheerfully. “You may find something interesting in it.”
“I sha’n’t be able to read it this evening,” said Rachel, mournfully. “My eyes have troubled me lately. I feel that it is more than probable that I am growing blind. But I trust I shall not live to be a burden to you. Your prospects are dark enough without that.”
“Don’t trouble yourself with any fears of that sort, Rachel,” said the cooper, cheerily. “I think I know what will enable you to use your eyes as well as ever.”
“What?” asked Rachel, with melancholy curiosity.
“A pair of spectacles,” said her brother, incautiously.
“Spectacles!” retorted Rachel, indignantly. “It will be a good many years before I am old enough to wear spectacles. I didn’t expect to be insulted by my own brother. But it’s one of my trials.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Rachel,” said the cooper, perplexed.
“Good night,” said Rachel, rising and taking a small lamp from the table.
“Come, Rachel, don’t go yet. It is early.”
“After what you have said to me, Timothy, my self-respect will not permit me to stay.”
Rachel swept out of the room with something more than her customary melancholy.
“I wish Rachel war’n’t quite so contrary,” said the cooper. “She turns upon a body so sudden, it’s hard to know how to take her. How’s the little girl, Mary?”
“She’s been asleep ever since six o’clock.”
“I hope you don’t find her very much trouble. That all comes upon you, while we have the benefit of the money.”
“I don’t think of that, Timothy. She is a sweet child, and I love her almost as much as if she were my own. As for Jack, he perfectly idolizes her.”
“And how does Aunt Rachel look upon her?”
“I am afraid she will never be a favorite with Rachel.”
“Rachel never took to children much. It isn’t her way. Now, Mary, while you are sewing, I will read you the news.”
CHAPTER VI. WHAT THE ENVELOPE CONTAINED
THE card which had been handed to Timothy Crump contained the name of Thomas Merriam,–Wall Street. Punctually at twelve, the cooper reported himself at the counting-room, and received a cordial welcome from the merchant.
“I am glad to see you,” he said. “I will come to business at once, as I am particularly engaged this morning. Is there any way in which I can serve you?”
“Not unless you can procure me a situation, sir.”
“I think you told me you were a cooper.”
“Yes sir.”
“Does this yield you a good support?”
“In good times it pays me two dollars a day. Lately it has been depressed, and for a time paid me but a dollar and a half.”
“When do you anticipate its revival?”
“That is uncertain. It may be some months first.”
“And, in the mean time, you are willing to undertake some other employment?”
“Yes, sir. I have no objection to any honest employment.”
Mr. Merriam reflected a moment.
“Just at present,” he said, “I have nothing to offer except the post of porter. If that will suit you, you can enter upon the duties to-morrow.”
“I shall be very glad to take it, sir. Anything is better than idleness.”
“Your compensation shall be the same that you have been accustomed to earn by your trade,—two dollars a day.”
“I only received that in the best times,” said Timothy, conscientiously.
“Your services will be worth it. I will expect you, then, to-morrow morning at eight. You are married, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir. I am blessed with a good wife.”
“I am glad of that. Stay a moment.”
The merchant went to his desk, and presently returned with a scaled envelope.
“Give that to your wife,” he said.
The interview terminated, and the cooper went home, quite elated by his success. His present engagement would enable him to bridge over the dull time, and save him from incurring debt, of which he had a just horror.
“Just in time,” said Mrs. Crump. “We’ve got an apple-pudding to-day.”
“You haven’t forgotten what I like, Mary.”
“There’s no knowing how long you will be able to afford puddings,” said Aunt Rachel. “To my mind it’s extravagant to have meat and pudding both, when a month hence you may be in the poor-house.”
“Then,” said Jack, “I wouldn’t eat any.”
“Oh, if you grudge me the little I eat,” said his aunt, in severe sorrow, “I will go without.”
“Tut, Rachel, nobody grudges you anything here,” said her brother, “and as to the poor-house, I’ve got some good news to tell you that will put that thought out of your heads.”
“What is it?” asked Mrs. Crump, looking up brightly.
“I have found employment.”
“Not at your trade?”
“No, but at something else, which will pay equally well, till trade revives.”
Here he told the story of the chance by which he was enabled to serve Mr. Merriam, and of the engagement to which it had led.
“You are, indeed, fortunate,” said Mrs. Crump. “Two dollars a day, and we’ve got nearly the whole of the money that came with this dear child. How rich we shall be!”
“Well, Rachel, where are your congratulations?” asked the cooper of his sister, who, in subdued sorrow, was eating her second slice of pudding.
“I don’t see anything so very fortunate in being engaged as a porter,” said Rachel, lugubriously. “I heard of a porter, once, who had a great box fall upon him and crush him; and another, who committed suicide.”
The cooper laughed.
