Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life
SOON after Rachel's departure Jack, also, was seized with a sleepyfit, and postponing the construction of his boat to a more favorableopportunity, took a candle and followed his aunt's example.
The cooper and his wife were now left alone.
"Now that Rachel and Jack have gone to bed, Mary," he commenced,hesitatingly, "I don't mind saying that I am a little troubled in mindabout one thing."
"What's that?" asked Mrs. Crump, anxiously.
"It's just this, I don't anticipate being stinted for food. I know weshall get along some way; but there's another expense which I am afraidof."
"Is it the rent?" inquired his wife, apprehensively.
"That's it. The quarter's rent, twenty dollars, comes due to-morrow, andI've got less than a dollar to meet it."
"Won't Mr. Colman wait?"
"I'm afraid not. You know what sort of a man he is, Mary. There ain'tmuch feeling about him. He cares more for money than anything else."
"Perhaps you are doing him injustice."
"I am afraid not. Did you never hear how he treated the Underhills?"
"How was it?"
"Underhill was laid up with a rheumatic fever for three months. Theconsequence was, that, when quarter-day came round, he was in about thesame situation with ourselves,--a little worse even, for his wife wassick, also. But though Colman was aware of the circumstances, he had nopity; but turned them out without ceremony."
"Is it possible?" asked Mrs. Crump, uneasily.
"And there's no reason for his being more lenient with us. I can't butfeel anxious about to-morrow, Mary."
At this moment, verifying an old adage which will perhaps occur to thereader, who should knock but Mr. Colman himself?
Both the cooper and his wife had an instinctive foreboding as to themeaning of his visit.
He came in, rubbing his hands in a social way, as was his custom. Noone, to look at him, would have suspected the hardness of heart that layveiled under his velvety softness of manner.
"Good evening, Mr. Crump," said he, affably, "I trust you and yourworthy wife are in good health."
"That blessing, at least, is continued to us," said the cooper, gravely.
"And how comfortable you're looking too, eh! It makes an old bachelor,like me, feel lonesome when he contrasts his own solitary room withsuch a scene of comfort as this. You've got a comfortable home, anddog-cheap, too. All my other tenants are grumbling to think you don'thave to pay any more for such superior accommodations. I've aboutmade up my mind that I must ask you twenty-five dollars a quarter,hereafter."
All this was said very pleasantly, but the pill was none the lessbitter.
"It seems to me, Mr. Colman," remarked the cooper soberly, "you havechosen rather a singular time for raising the rent."
"Why singular, my good sir?" inquired the landlord, urbanely.
"You know of course, that this is a time of general business depression;my own trade in particular has suffered greatly. For a month past, Ihave not been able to find any work."
Colman's face lost something of its graciousness.
"And I fear I sha'n't be able to pay my quarter's rent to-morrow."
"Indeed!" said the landlord coldly. "Perhaps you can make it up withintwo or three dollars?"
"I can't pay a dollar towards it," said the cooper. "It's the firsttime, in five years that I've lived here, that this thing has happenedto me. I've always been prompt before."
"You should have economized as you found times growing harder," saidColman, harshly. "It is hardly honest to live in a house when you knowyou can't pay the rent."
"You sha'n't lose it Mr. Colman," said the cooper, earnestly. "No oneever yet lost anything by me. Only give me time, and I will pay youall."
The landlord shook his head.
"You ought to cut your coat according to your cloth," he responded."Much as it will go against my feelings, under the circumstances I amcompelled by a prudent regard to my own interests to warn you that, incase your rent is not ready to-morrow, I shall be obliged to troubleyou to find another tenement; and furthermore, the rent of this will beraised five dollars a quarter."
"I can't pay it, Mr. Colman," said the cooper; "I may as well say thatnow; and it's no use my agreeing to pay more rent. I pay all I canafford now."
"Very well, you know the alternative. But it is a disagreeable subject.We won't talk of it now; I shall be round to-morrow morning. How's yourexcellent sister; as cheerful as ever?"
"Quite as much so as usual," answered the cooper, dryly.
"But there's one favor I should like to ask, if you will allow us toremain here a few days till I can look about me a little."
"I would with the greatest pleasure in the world," was the reply, "butthere's another family very anxious to take the house, and they wish tocome in immediately. Therefore I shall be obliged to ask you to move outto-morrow. In fact that is the very thing I came here this evening tospeak about, as I thought you might not wish to pay the increased rent."
"We are much obliged to you," said the cooper, with a tinge ofbitterness unusual to him. "If we are to be turned out of doors, it ispleasant to have a few hours' notice of it."
"Turned out of doors, my good friend! What disagreeable expressions youemploy! It is merely a matter of business. I have an article to disposeof. There are two bidders; yourself and another person. The latter iswilling to pay a larger sum. Of course I give him the preference. Don'tyou see how it is?"
"I believe I do," replied the cooper. "Of course, it's a regularproceeding; but you must excuse me if I think of it in another light,when I reflect that to-morrow at this time my family and myself may bewithout a shelter."
"My dear sir, positively you are looking on the dark side of things. Itis actually sinful to distrust Providence as you seem to do. You're alittle disappointed, that's all. Just take to-night to sleep on it, andI've no doubt you'll think better of it and of me. But positively I havestayed longer than I intended. Good night, my friends. I'll look in uponyou in the morning. And by the by, as it is so near the time, allow meto wish you a Happy New Year."
The door closed upon the landlord, leaving behind two anxious hearts.
"It looks well in him to wish that," said the cooper, gloomily. "A greatdeal he is doing to make it so. I don't know how it seems to others, butfor my part I never say them words to any one unless I really wish 'emwell, and am willing to do something to make 'em so. I should feel as ifI was a hypocrite if I acted anyways different."
Mary did not respond to this. In her own gentle heart she could nothelp feeling a silent repugnance, mingled, it may be, with a shade ofcontempt, for the man who had just left them. It was an uncomfortablefeeling, and she strove to get rid of it.
"Is there any tenement vacant in this neighborhood?" she asked.
"Yes, there's the one at the corner, belonging to Mr. Harrison."
"It is a better one than this."
"Yes, but Harrison only asks the same that we have been paying. He isnot so exorbitant as Colman."
"Couldn't we get that?"
"I am afraid, if he knew that we had failed to pay our rent here, hewould object."
"But he knows you are honest, and that nothing but the hard times wouldhave brought you to such a pass."
"It may be, Mary. At any rate you have lightened my heart a little. Ifeel as if there was some hope left."
"We ought always to feel so, Timothy. There was one thing that Mr.Colman said that didn't sound so well, coming from his lips; but it'strue, for all that."
"What do you mean, Mary?"
"I mean that about not distrusting Providence. Many a time have Ibeen comforted by reading the verse, 'Never have I seen the righteousforsaken, or his seed begging bread.' As long as we try to do what isright, Timothy, God will not suffer us to want."
"You are right, Mary. He is our ever-present help in time of need.Let us put away all anxious cares, fully confiding in his graciouspromises."
They retired to rest thoughtfully, but n
ot sadly.
The fire upon the hearth flickered, and died out at length. The lastsands of the old year were running out, and the new morning ushered inits successor.
CHAPTER IV. THE NEW YEAR'S PRESENT.