MILDRED'S BARGAIN.
A Story for Girls.
BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE.
Chapter VI.
"Miss Lee," said Mr. Tom, as Milly entered the store Wednesday morning, "will you please to take my place for two hours at the desk? I have something to do for father."
Milly had once or twice filled the same office, and so she quietly sat down upon Tom's stool, receiving his directions about the money wearily.
"I've been counting the money over," he said, rather insolently, "and I know just what is there."
Mildred glanced up with a slight surprise. She had not fully understood "Mr. Tom" of late. He and his sister, who served in the cloak-room, were both, as she knew, jealous of her indifference to them. Their conduct hitherto she had perfectly understood, but not their extreme suavity of the last week. Mary Hardman had determined to make an "intimate friend" of Mildred when it was known she had visited Miss Jenner, but the vulgar ostentation of her employer's daughter completely shocked Milly's better taste; and so, while she openly snubbed the brother, she took care to withdraw, though civilly, from the sister's advances. This had produced the effect of irritating Miss Hardman, wounding her self-love, and bringing out all the latent vulgarity in her nature, so that poor Milly was constantly subjected to annoyance and rudeness, which she bore only through fear of losing her place; but the new part toward her was more annoying than the old. Miss Hardman received her with smiles, while Tom was sarcastically polite to her on all occasions.
Mildred made no answer to his remark about the money. In fact, after an unusually fatiguing night with her mother, she was too weary to speak, and sat leaning her head on her hand, only moving to respond to the call of "Cash!" at the desk window. How good the money looked, Mildred thought, as she slipped the notes between her fingers! Over and again she had the sum she needed in her hands—if conscience was not in the way. "Yes," thought Milly, "that is how temptation steps in."
Deborah was standing in the kitchen window the next evening when Mildred came down from her mother's room, asking her to relieve her for ten minutes.
"My 'business' woman is coming in the gate, Debby," she said, with a nervous laugh; "but it will be her last visit, and after she goes away I will tell you all about her."
Deborah went up stairs a little mollified, and Mildred prepared to confront her "Shylock."
"Here I am," said Mrs. Robbins, shaking out her skirts, and sitting down as soon as she entered the bare little parlor, "and here I'm likely to remain, for I know what I mean to have instead of money if you don't pay me; and I know," added the woman, with her insolent laugh—"I know you haven't it, for old Mr. Hardman refused to lend it to you yesterday."
Mildred flushed, but she returned the woman's bold stare with a look of quiet dignity.
"You are mistaken, Mrs. Robbins," she said, producing a roll of bills. "Here is your money. Will you be kind enough to give me a receipt as quickly as possible?"
The peddler stared, but she could offer no further remonstrance. There were the bills, fresh enough, and genuine. She took the money in her hands, counted it over and again, and then, with angry reluctance, and a glance at the ornaments in the room, which showed what she had "meant to have," she wrote her receipt and departed....
"And that's the whole story, Deborah," whispered Milly, an hour later, as she and the good old woman sat over the fire in Mrs. Lee's room. "It's nearly killed me this winter—but I can't possibly tell you where or how I got the money. I scarcely like to think of it myself," and Mildred rose with the air Debby knew very well, and which plainly said, "You'll hear no more."
"Well," said Deborah, "I won't ask if I'm bid not. I only hope no trouble'll come of it."
"Trouble!" said Milly, rather sharply. Deborah did not know how tired and ill she felt, and, indeed, poor Milly was very near a hearty burst of crying. She was relieved of one anxiety, she thought, as she lay down to sleep in her mother's room; but had she not burdened herself with another?
On entering the store two days later, Milly observed a certain air of reserve among the girls nearest her, yet they all looked at her critically. One or two whispered as she went by them with her usual friendly "Good-morning," and others gave a little significant toss to head or shoulders as she spoke. Mary Hardman was busy in the cloak-room, and as Mildred entered she said, with a short laugh,
"I don't believe you will be wanted here to-day, Miss Lee. However, father's coming in directly, and he'll tell you for himself."
Before Mildred could answer, the burly figure of Mr. Hardman senior came toward them.
"'Morning, Miss Lee," he said, nodding his head. "Will you be kind enough to step into my room?"
It was a sort of office, close at hand, where the girls went to receive special orders, their weekly salary, or any necessary reprimands. The day before Milly had penetrated this sanctum to beg a loan of twenty-two dollars from her employer; now she followed him with doubting steps. What could it mean? Mr. Tom was seated in a big leather chair by the table, with the air of judge and jury, witness and lawyer.
"Sit down, Miss Lee," said the elder man, motioning her to a seat. "Now, Thomas, I think you can tell the story."
While Mildred mechanically dropped into a chair, the old man paced the floor, and Mr. Tom, veiling a sneer, began:
"Miss Lee, I'll go right to the main question. We've missed some money from the drawer. It disappeared day before yesterday morning. The sum was twenty-two dollars. Now as you were at the desk between twelve and two o'clock on that day, can you account for it?"
Mr. Tom drew up his little ferret eyes with a most malicious expression.
"Twenty-two dollars!" gasped Milly; her face was crimson. "No, I can not account for it. Twenty-two dollars?" she repeated the question with a look of blank dismay.
"Go on, Thomas," said Mr. Hardman senior.
"Well, then," said Tom, "we happen to know you needed just that sum. You tried to borrow it of my father, and you paid it out in the evening."
Evidently Mr. Tom thought this sentence his crowning success, for he rose up, trying to look very fine, as he finished it.
To Mildred the next moment seemed an hour of pain. She sat still, gazing ahead of her, trying to realize the situation. Then they accused her of stealing the money!
"And you think I took it?" she said, faintly.
"I'm afraid we don't think much about it," said Mr. Tom. "Circumstances are dead against you."
Mildred stood up, putting out one trembling hand as though she would implore some consideration. She thought of her mother lying ill at home; of all the miseries of the past few weeks. It made her head dizzy, and she sank back into her chair, while Tom continued:
"Now I know all about it, Miss Lee, as you'll see. You bought a gray silk dress of a peddler; the girls all saw it; and you didn't know how you were to pay for it. You got awfully hard up Wednesday for money—twenty-two dollars—and you tried to borrow it of father. He couldn't lend it to you, and, in plain words, you stole it from him. Pity I wasn't a lawyer," added the young man, with a chuckle.
"HOW DARE YOU SAY SUCH A THING?"
"Mr. Hardman, how dare you say such a thing?" cried Milly, starting from her chair.
"Then prove you did not," said the young man. "Where did you get your twenty-two dollars for Widow Robbins?"
Mildred drew a long breath. "I can not tell you," she said, quietly.
Father and son laughed. "Now do you know, young lady," said the old man, "if you're put into court, you'll have to tell. There'll be no questions asked until that one is answered."
Milly could not speak. Terror, weariness, and shame filled her mind.
"You may go now," said Mr. Hardman. "I don't say we've finished with this business, but we no longer need your services. There is your weekly salary." And the old man tossed a five-dollar bill before her.
Mildred never could remember how she left that room. Her tongue seemed paralyzed. She could not speak; she only thought of getting home, to cry out her misery on Deborah's shoulder. When she went out into the street a heavy snow was falling. The girl's brain seemed to be on fire. She scarcely knew where she was going, and as she walked along she remembered that to-day for the first time her mother was to sit up, and she had agreed with Debby to bring in a bird to roast for her supper. They had meant to make a little celebration of the mother's convalescence, to which Milly thought she could bring a cheerful spirit, since her terrible load of private debt was removed. But now, how was all changed! Mildred stood still in the wild storm, putting her hand to her head, and even trying to remember where she was going. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. She would go to Miss Jenner's, and tell her the whole story. "But not where I got the money," the poor child thought, with a moan. Half driven along by the heavy snow-storm, Milly turned her steps toward Lane Street. There was the beautiful brick house, its trees veiled in white; but, oh! to her delight, Milly saw the curtains of Miss Jenner's room drawn back. She must be better, if not well again.
It was a very miserable little figure that appeared at the door when the old servant opened it. Drenched through by the storm, and with lines of pain and fatigue in her face, Milly stood there. She scarcely heard what the servant said as he conducted her down the hall and into the library, where a big wood fire was blazing cheerily, and where Miss Jenner, wrapped in soft shawls, sat, with Alice at her knee.
Mildred took one glance at the sweet, home-like picture, then she recalled her own position; she remembered the scene at Mr. Hardman's. As the servant closed the door, she moved forward with tears in her eyes, saying:
"Miss Jenner, I am in great trouble at the store. They say—they say—I am a thief."
Mildred remembered Miss Jenner's standing up, and Alice's exclamation of horror; then the room, the fire-light, the books and pictures, and the two figures, seemed to whirl before her, and she knew no more.
[to be continued.]
SOMETHING IN THE WAY.—Drawn by Jessie McDermott.
Brooklyn, E. D., Long Island.
The Young Chemists' Club is in a very prosperous condition. The meetings are held at the residences of the members every Saturday evening at half past seven. The order of exercises commences with the calling of the roll, then the collection of weekly dues, and the consideration of whatever business is necessary. Compositions by the members treating of scientific subjects are then read.
Communications from scientific gentlemen are read by the secretary, and at some meetings they are present and give a short lecture.
When this part of the exercises is disposed of, experiments are then tried. The ink with which this letter is written was made by the club. Is it not a good sample of our skill?
We are happy to say that we consider Harper's Young People as our official organ, and we thank it cordially for supporting us.
If desired, we will occasionally send some experiments and scientific notes from our meetings. We now send the following simple and pretty experiment:
Cut three leaves of red cabbage into small pieces, place them in a basin, and pour a pint of boiling water over them. After allowing them to stand an hour, pour off the liquid into a decanter. This liquid will be of a bright reddish-purple color. Now take three wine-glasses; into one put about six drops of strong vinegar; into another, six drops of a solution of soda; and into the third, the same quantity of a strong solution of alum. Then pour into each glass a small quantity of the liquid from the decanter. The contents of the glass containing vinegar will quickly assume a beautiful brilliant red color; that containing soda will be a fine green; and that containing alum a very dark, rich purple.
Charles H. W., President of Y. C. C.
Seneca W. H., Secretary.
We congratulate the members of the Young Chemists' Club upon their perseverance and success. We shall always be glad to receive reports of anything interesting which may occur at their meetings, and also occasionally to print simple and safe experiments, which we doubt not will be of interest to many of our young readers. The ink with which the above communication was written is of a bright, clear purple color, and appears of an excellent quality.
St. Joseph, Tensas Parish, Louisiana.
I have only been taking Young People for a few months, but I like it so much I hope never to be without it. I want to write a letter to the Post-office Box, but I can not write myself, for I am only five years old; so somebody has to write it for me.
I had two pretty gray kittens. You could not tell them apart. Their names were Jack and Jill. But poor little Jill died. Jack loves me so much! He goes to sleep with me every night, and the first thing in the morning, when he comes into the room, he looks all around for me, and if I am still in bed, he will jump up and cuddle down near me.
I have some pretty dolls I would like to write about, but I am afraid if my letter is too long it will be thrown away.
I have no brothers or sisters except in heaven, and I am very lonely sometimes, and always so glad to see Young People.
Sadie B. N.
Poughkeepsie, New York.
I am a little girl eleven years old. I like Young People very much. I think the best story was "The Fair Persian," but I like them all more than I can tell.
I have ten dolls. The last one I got Christmas. Her name is Madame Arabella.
I am going to be an artist when I am old enough.
Addie W.
Brattleborough, Vermont.
I like Harper's Young People very much. I study Harper's School Geography. I am just learning how to skate. For Christmas I got a chamber set and a tea set, a pretty book, two bags of candy, and a bag of nuts.
I am eight and a half years old.
Mary W. W.
Marietta, Ohio.
I am ten years old. I have a little sister named Julia, but when she commenced to talk she called herself Jupi, and we all call her so. Mamma says we ought to spell it joujou, which is the French word for plaything.
We like Young People so much we can hardly wait for it to come. Papa has taken it for us ever since it was published.
Jupi and I each have a pet kitty. One of them will scratch on the door, just like a dog, until some one opens it.
Jupi has a Paris doll. It is a baby doll, and it has a little nursing bottle. You can fill the bottle with milk or water, put the tube in the doll's mouth, and by pressing a button at the back of its head, all the milk goes out of the bottle. Then press the button again, and it all goes back.
We have a toy bird which imitates a canary so you would think it was a real one.
Charley R. H.
Greenville, December 28, 1880.
Dear Mr. Harper,—I'm in an awful situation that a boy by the name of Bellew got me into. He is one of the boys that writes stories and makes pictures for Young People, and I think you ought to know what kind of a boy he is. A little while ago he had a story in the Young People about imitation screw-heads, and how he used to make them, and what fun he had pasting them on his aunt's bureau. I thought it was a very nice story, and I got some tinfoil and made a whole lot of screw-heads and last Saturday I thought I'd have some fun with them.
Father has a dreadfully ugly old chair in his study, that General Washington brought over with him in the Mayflower, and Mr. Travers says it is stiffer and uglier than any of the Pilgrim fathers. But father thinks everything of that chair and never lets anybody sit in it except the minister. I took a piece of soap, just as that Bellew used to, and if his name is Billy why don't he learn how to spell it that's what I'd like to know, and made what looked like a tremendous crack in the chair. Then I pasted the screw-heads on the chair, and it looked exactly as if somebody had broken it and tried to mend it.
I couldn't help laughing all day when I thought how astonished father would be when he saw his chair all full of screws, and how he would laugh when he found out it was all a joke. As soon as he came home I asked him to please come into the study, and showed him the chair and said "Father I can not tell a lie I did it but I won't do it any more."
Father looked as if he had seen some disgusting ghosts, and I was really frightened, so I hurried up and said "It's all right father, it's only a joke look here they all come off," and rubbed off the screw-heads and the soap with my handkerchief, and expected to see him burst out laughing, just as Bellew's aunt used to burst, but instead of laughing he said "My son this trifling with sacred things must be stopped," with which remark he took off his slipper, and then— But I haven't the heart to say what he did. Mr. Travers has made some pictures about it which I send to you, and perhaps you will understand what I have suffered.
I think that boy Bellew ought to be punished for getting people into scrapes. I'd just like to have him come out behind our barn with me for a few minutes. That is, I would, only I never expect to take any interest in anything any more. My heart is broken and a new chocolate cigar that was in my pocket during the awful scene.
I've got an elegant wasps' nest with young wasps in it that will hatch out in the spring, and I'll change it for a bull-terrier or a shot-gun or a rattlesnake in a cage that rattles good with any boy that will send me one.
Ever affectionately
Your son
Jimmy Brown.
(That's the way they taught me to end letters when I was in boarding-school.)
Meadville, Pennsylvania.
I have some little toy dogs and rabbits. I had the diphtheria, and took such bitter medicine that old Santa Claus brought me a dolly. I was six years old on New-Year's Day. I guess this letter is big enough.
Mabel A.
Waterbury, Connecticut.
We are two sisters, and we would like to tell you about our pets. We have a bird named Dicky, and we have two gold-fishes, a pearl-fish, and a roach, which live in a large aquarium over a fernery. We each have a cat. Our cats are almost exactly alike, and are named Tabby-gray and Frolic. We took the names from Young People. We have two horses named Bonner and Charlie. Bonner is five years old, and Charlie is twenty-seven. Charlie is a remarkable horse. Two years ago he was very sick. We thought he was dying, and told a man to shoot him; but he said Charlie looked at him so intelligently that he could not do it. After that, Charlie got well, and we have taken many long, delightful drives with him, and he has been driven in a span with Bonner twenty-seven miles in one afternoon. We have had him sixteen years, and when papa was living, Charlie, when the gong sounded for dinner, would back out of his stall, and go to the office door to bring him home. Do you not think we ought to love such a faithful old horse? We do love him, and he has a nice home and kind treatment.
Hattie and Nettie D.
Leesburg, Florida.
I am a subscriber of this very interesting little paper, and get it regularly every week. I don't know how I would do without it. You can not imagine how anxious I am to go to town and get it the moment I know it is in the post-office.
I live in the land of flowers, and I like my home very much.
Eva H.
Ivanpah, California.
I am the little girl whose letter was printed in Young People No. 45, that was going to the mines. I am there now. I will try to tell you all about my trip. We came two hundred and ten miles across the Desert in the stage. We were over eight days on the road. We camped out two nights, and made our beds on the ground. I gathered many beautiful stones in the Desert. I saw a rattlesnake.
I have been down in the mine eight hundred feet, and I am going down a shaft which is nine hundred feet below the level.
I have three pet cats here, and I have thirty hens, which I feed twice every day. I have no brothers or sisters, but I amuse myself by reading Young People, and by running over the rocks and prospecting.
Florence R.
Providence, Rhode Island.
We have taken Young People ever since the first number, and we all like it. I have two brothers and two sisters. Christmas my brother had the book called Old Times in the Colonies for a present. There are the same stories in it that were in Young People, and a great many more. One is about King Philip and the wars with the settlers in Rhode Island. I have read many of the other stories, and they are very interesting. I am twelve years old.
Louise S.
Trenton, New York.
I am a little girl six years old. I have a papa and mamma, but no little brother or sister. I have a doggie named Dick, and a kitty named Flossy, and eleven dollies with a black nurse. I take Harper's Young People, and can hardly wait for it to come. I wish every little girl could have it. I am learning to read and write.
Abbie Maud B.
Baltimore, Maryland.
I go to school and Sunday-school, and have my music lessons to practice, but I always find time to read my Young People. I went to the country this summer, and had a splendid time. I went boat-riding on the Shenandoah River. I am eleven years old.
Eleanor E. A.
Detroit, Michigan.
I have a little dog. His name is Prince. He sleeps with me. He weighs four and one-half pounds.
I have been in bed a week with scarlet fever, and I enjoy Young People so much!
I have a nice stamp-book, but not many stamps yet. I will have some to exchange soon. I am eight years old.
Johnnie E.
Farmington, New York.
I am a boy ten years old. I go to school, and read in the Fourth Reader, and study arithmetic and geography. I take Young People, and hope I can have it always.
I have a cat. His name is Dick. He will follow me over to grandpa's, and stay with me until I come home.
This is the first letter I ever wrote.
Sidney J. C.
Aroya Station, Colorado.
I take much pleasure in reading all the letters and stories. I hope all the readers enjoy Young People as much as I do.
Since my letter requesting exchange was published I have received many pretty things. I wish to inform the correspondents that I have no more specimens now, except enough to pay what I owe for favors I have received. I would request the correspondents not to send me anything more, as I could not make any return.
Clara F. R. Swift.
Barranquilla, United States of Colombia.
A happy time it is for me when the steamer from New York for South America arrives, and brings Young People. I pity the little correspondent who wrote in the Post-office Box about four feet of snow, for I believe it must be very cold there, although I have never seen snow yet. Here even now we have many blooming plants in our garden at Oasis, our beautiful country-seat, near Barranquilla.
I am nine years old. I have my own horse, a deer, and a little circus.
We have all tropic plants, and I should like to exchange some Southern, German, and French postage stamps, or dried flowers and leaves from the tropic zone, for all kinds of minerals. Letters and packages may be sent to my uncle in New York city, whose address is at the end of my letter, and who will forward them to me. He will also be kind enough to receive and forward my answers to correspondents.
If any young readers would like to know more of my country, I will send another letter.
Judith Wolff, care of Mr. D. A. De Lima,
68 William Street, New York City.
Passaic Bridge, New Jersey.
I like Young People very much. Papa bought me the first volume bound. I have two kitties; one is white, the other is black. We call them Romeo and Juliet, because they are so loving; they always go to sleep with their paws around each other's necks.
Winnie V.
I like Young People very much. When I was in the White Mountains this summer I went to a silver and lead mine, where I got a number of specimens, which I should like to exchange for foreign postage stamps. Or to any one sending me twenty-five foreign postage stamps I will send forty-five foreign and United States postmarks.
G. L. Briggs,
P. O. Box 560, Brookline, Mass.
The following exchanges are also desired by correspondents:
Postage stamps for curiosities, Indian relics, or anything suitable for a museum.
Samuel Carpenter, Jun., Oswego, Kansas.
Postmarks and foreign postage stamps.
Frank K. Lippitt,
Petaluma, Sonoma County, California.
Gray moss and postmarks for minerals (especially ores), fossils, coins, or stamps.
Charles P. Mattheus, P. O. Box 13,
Fort Covington, Franklin County, N. Y.
Twenty-five postage stamps, or ten postmarks and eight stamps, for a box of ocean curiosities and a star-fish.
R. Lamp, care of William Lamp,
Madison, Dane County, Wis.
William H.—The term "blizzard" is applied in Canada and the Northwestern Territories of the United States to an extremely sharp snow-storm, when the particles of snow are blown by the wind like fine pieces of steel. One can hardly walk the distance of a city block in such a storm without getting one's nose and ears frozen.
C. B. F.—Mrs. Elizabeth Goose, who lived in Boston before the Revolution, is generally supposed to have been the first to sing, for the amusement of her grandchildren, most of the nursery jingles that have ever since been known as "Mother Goose's Melodies." The Tales of Mother Goose, such as "Blue Beard," "Tom Thumb," "Cinderella," etc., were the production of a celebrated French writer of the seventeenth century, named Perrault. He composed these fairy tales to amuse a little son. They were first published in Paris in 1697, under his son's name, and have since been translated into nearly every language.
John W.—It is said that a Mr. Beyer, an eminent linen-draper of London, underwent in his youth the comical adventures which Cowper has described in his ballad of "John Gilpin." It appears from Southey's life of the poet that his friend Lady Austin once repeated to him a story told to her in her childhood of an unfortunate pleasure party of this linen-draper, ending in his being carried past his point both in going and returning, and finally being brought home by his horse without having met his family at Edmonton. Cowper is said to have been extremely amused by the story, and to have composed his famous ballad while lying awake one night suffering from headache.
William D.—Old Times in the Colonies is ended. You will find a notice of the book in No. 56 of Harper's Young People.
E. H.—You will find very good directions for painting magic-lantern slides in a letter from Harry J. in the Post-office Box of Young People No. 62.
Harry W.—Directions for catching and preserving insects were given in the Post-office Box of Harper's Young People No. 27, and in the same department of No. 34 is a description of a cheap and simple case for mounting butterflies and other specimens.
A. Russell.—See answer to S. H. M. in the Post-office Box of Harper's Young People No. 22.
Favors are acknowledged from Abel Caldwell, Harry, Maud E. Chase, L. M. Weter, Blanche Dougan, Isabel W. Harris, Ellen and Edna B., Pert Gates, J. A. Tannahill, C. S. G., J. W., James A. Harris, Edward McNally, Florence Stidham, Mabel Going, Josie Belle B., Bessie Guyton, Helen S., C. H. Mathias, Florence F. S., W. B. Wyman.
Correct answers to puzzles are received from Belle Bloom, Arthur D. Prince, M. W. and E. W., Bessie R. Howell, Walter P. Hiles, A. D. Hopper, A. Russell, Nellie V. Brainard, Annie W. Booth, Richard O. Chester, John N. Howe, Mary E. DeWitt, Fanny Squire.
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
CONNECTED DIAMONDS.
1. In play-time. A small barrel. A coin. An animal. In play-time. 2. In trouble. A minute part. Kingly. A label. In trouble. Centrals connected—An aromatic plant.
Bolus.