FullReads

A note of five hundred dollars was to fall due on the next day, and Mr. Hartman found himself with but a hundred dollars to meet it. The firm from which he had bought the goods for which the note was given had trusted him when others refused credit to the amount of a single dollar, and had it in their power to forward his interests very greatly if he was punctual in his payments. It was the first bill of goods they had sold him, and Hartman could not go to them for assistance in lifting the note, for that would effectually cut off all hope of further credit. He could not borrow, for there was no one to lend him money. There was a time when he could have borrowed thousands on his word; but now he knew that it would be folly to ask for even hundreds.

In a state of deep discouragement, he left his store in the evening and went home. After tea, while sitting alone, Jessie, who came to see him often, tapped at his door.

“Are you not well?” she asked, with much concern, as soon as the smile with which he greeted her faded from his face, and she saw its drooping expression.

“Yes, dear,” he replied, trying to arouse himself and appear cheerful; but the effort was in vain.

“Indeed, uncle, you are not well,” remarked Jessie, breaking in upon a longer period of silent abstraction into which Mr. Hartman had fallen, after in vain trying to converse cheerfully with his niece.

“I am well enough in body, Jessie; but my mind is a little anxious just now,” he replied.

“Isn’t your business coming out as well as you expected?” inquired the affectionate girl.

“I am sorry to say that it is not,” returned Mr. Hartman. “In fact, I see but little hope of succeeding. I have no capital, and the little credit I possess is likely to be destroyed through my inability to sustain it. I certainly did anticipate a better reward for my efforts, and am the more disappointed at this result. To think that, for the want of three or four hundred dollars, the struggle of a whole year must prove in vain! As yet, even that small sum I cannot command.”

The face of Jessie flushed instantly, as her uncle uttered the last two sentences.

“And will so small an amount as three or four hundred dollars save you from what you fear?” she asked, in a trembling voice.

“Yes, even so small an amount as that. But the sum might as well be thousands. I cannot command it.”

“You can, uncle!” replied Jessie, with a glow of exultation on her cheek, and a spirit of joy in her voice. “I have the money. Oh! it is the happiest hour of my life!”

And sinking forward, she laid her now weeping face upon the breast of her uncle. Her tears were the out-gushing waters of gladness.

“You have the money, child?” said Mr. Hartman, after the lapse of a few moments. “Where did you get it?”

“I have had no need to spend my salary.”

“Your salary! Have you saved it all?”

“Every dollar. I had clothing sufficient, and there was no other want to take it from me. Dear uncle, how happy it makes me to think that I have it in my power to aid you! Would that the sum was tens of thousands!”

Mr. Hartman, as soon as the first surprise was over, said, with evident emotion–

“Jessie, I cannot express how much this incident has affected me. But, deeply grateful to you as I feel for such an evidence of your love, I must push back the hand that would force this aid upon me. I will not be unjust to you. I will not take your hard earnings to run the risk of losing them.”

A shadow passed over the face of Jessie, and her voice was touched with something like grief as she replied–