Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life
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THE opportune arrival of the child inaugurated a season of comparativeprosperity in the home of Timothy Crump. To persons accustomed to livein their frugal way, three hundred dollars seemed a fortune. Nor, asmight have happened in some cases, did this unexpected windfall temptthe cooper or his wife to extravagances.
"Let us save something against a rainy day," said Mrs. Crump.
"We can, if I get work soon," answered her husband. "This little onewill add but little to our expenses, and there is no reason why weshould not save up at least half of it."
"There's no knowing when you will get work, Timothy," said Rachel, inher usual cheerful way; "it isn't well to crow before you're out of thewoods."
"Very true, Rachel. It isn't your failing to look too much at the sunnyside of the picture."
"I'm ready to look at it when I can see it anywhere," said his sister,in the same enlivening way.
"Don't you see it in the unexpected good fortune which came with thischild?" asked Timothy.
"I've no doubt it seems bright enough, now," said Rachel, gloomily, "buta young child's a great deal of trouble."
"Do you speak from experience, Aunt Rachel?" inquired Jack, demurely.
"Yes;" said his aunt, slowly; "if all babies were as cross as you werewhen you were an infant, three hundred dollars wouldn't begin to pay forthe trouble of having one round."
Mr. Crump and his wife laughed at this sally at Jack's expense, butthe latter had his wits about him sufficiently to answer, "I've alwaysheard, Aunt Rachel, that the crosser a child is the pleasanter he willgrow up. What a very pleasant baby you must have been!"
"Jack!" said his mother, reprovingly; but his father, who looked upon itas a good joke, remarked, good-humoredly, "He's got you there, Rachel."
The latter, however, took it as a serious matter, and observed that,when she was young, children were not allowed to speak so to theirelders. "But, I don't know as I can blame 'em much," she continued,wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron, "when their own parentsencourage 'em in it."
Timothy was warned, by experience, that silence was his best (sic)defence. Since anything he might say would only be likely to makematters worse.
Aunt Rachel sank into a fit of deep despondency, and did not say anotherword till dinner time. She sat down to the table with a profound sigh,as if there was little in life worth living for. Notwithstanding this,it was observed that she had a good appetite. Indeed, Rachel seemed tothrive on her gloomy views of life and human nature. She was, it mustbe acknowledged, perfectly consistent in all her conduct, as far as thispeculiarity was concerned. Whenever she took up a newspaper, she alwayslooked first to the space appropriated to deaths, and next in order tothe column of accidents, casualties, etc., and her spirits were visiblyexhilarated when she encountered a familiar name in either list.
Mr. Crump continued to look out for work, but it was with a morecheerful spirit. He did not now feel as if the comfort of his familydepended absolutely upon his immediate success. Used economically, themoney he had by him would last nine months, and during that time it wasimpossible that he should not find something to do. It was this senseof security--of possessing something upon which he could fall back--thatenabled him to keep up good heart. It is too generally the case thatpeople are content to live as if they were sure of constantly retainingtheir health and never losing their employment. When a reverse does comethey are at once plunged into discouragement, and feel that somethingmust be done immediately. There is only one way to fend off such anembarrassment, and that is to resolve, whatever may be the amount ofthe income, to lay aside some part to serve as a reliance in time oftrouble. A little economy--though it involves privation--will be wellrepaid by the feeling of security thus engendered.
Mr. Crump was not compelled to remain inactive as long as he feared. Notthat his line of business revived,--that still remained depressed,--butanother path was opened to him for a time.
Returning home late one evening, the cooper saw a man steal out froma doorway, and assault a gentleman whose dress and general appearanceindicated probable wealth. Seizing him by the throat, the villaineffectually prevented him from calling the police, and was engaged inrifling his pockets when the cooper arrived at the scene. A sudden blowon the side of the head admonished the robber that he had more than oneto deal with.
"Leave this man instantly," said the cooper, sternly, "or I will deliveryou into the hands of the police."
The villain hesitated, but fear prevailed, and springing to his feet, hehastily made off under cover of the darkness.
"I hope you have received no injury," said Timothy, respectfully,turning towards the stranger he had rescued.
"No, my worthy friend, thanks to your timely assistance. The rascalnearly succeeded, however."
"I hope you have lost nothing, sir."
"Nothing, fortunately. You can form an idea of the value of yourinterference, when I say that I have fifteen hundred dollars with me,all of which I should undoubtedly have lost."
"I am glad," said the cooper, "that I was able to do you such essentialservice. It was by the merest chance that I came this way."
"Will you add to my indebtedness by accompanying me with that trustyclub of yours? I have some little distance yet to go, and the amountof money I have with me makes me feel desirous of taking every possibleprecaution."
"Willingly," said the cooper.
"But I am forgetting," said the gentleman, "that you yourself will beobliged to return alone."
"I do not carry enough money to make me fear an attack," said Mr. Crump,laughing. "Money brings care I have always heard, and now I realize it."
"Yet most people are willing to take their chance of that," said themerchant.
"You are right, sir, nor can I call myself an exception. Still I shouldbe satisfied with the certainty of constant employment."
"I hope you have that, at least."
"I have had until recently."
"Then, at present, you are unemployed?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is your business?"
"That of a cooper."
"I must see what I can do for you. Can you call at my office to-morrow,say at twelve o'clock?"
"I shall be glad to do so, sir."
"I believe I have a card with me. Yes, here is one. And this is myhouse. Thank you for your company, my good friend. I shall see youto-morrow."
They stood before a handsome dwelling-house, from whose windows, drapedby heavy crimson curtains, a soft light proceeded. The cooper could hearthe ringing of childish voices welcoming home their father, whoselife, unknown to them, had been in such peril, and he could not but begrateful to Providence that he had been the means of frustrating thedesigns of the villain who would have robbed him, and perhaps done himfarther injury.
He determined to say nothing to his wife of the night's adventure untilafter his meeting appointed for the next day. Then if any advantageaccrued to him from it, he would tell the whole at once.
When he reached home, Mrs. Crump was sewing beside the fire. AuntRachel sat with her hands folded in her lap, with an air of martyr-likeresignation 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 probablethat I am growing blind. But I trust I shall not live to be a burden toyou. Your prospects are dark enough without that."
"Don't trouble yourself with any fears of that sort, Rachel," said thecooper, cheerily. "I think I know what will enable you to use your eyesas 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 manyyears before I am old enough to wear spectacles. I didn't expect to beinsulted 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 thetable.
"Come, Rachel, don't go yet. It is early."
"After what you have said to me, Timothy, my self-respect will notpermit me to stay."
Rachel swept out of the room with something more than her customarymelancholy.
"I wish Rachel war'n't quite so contrary," said the cooper. "She turnsupon a body so sudden, it's hard to know how to take her. How's thelittle 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 heralmost as much as if she were my own. As for Jack, he perfectly idolizesher."
"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, whileyou are sewing, I will read you the news."
CHAPTER VI. WHAT THE ENVELOPE CONTAINED.