Bessie in the City

by Joanna H. Mathews

FROM the time that George had seen the children's money, he did not cease to think of it, and soon he began to wish for it.

"'Tis a shame," he said to himself; "those two little snips having such a lot of money, and here I have next to none. Father is so awful stingy about giving me money."

This was not true, for Mr. Moore would give his son money for any needful purpose; but as George was apt to waste his allowance, he gave him but a small one. George had been envious when he heard how much more Mr. Bradford gave his sons, and now when he saw what the little girls had earned, he kept saying to himself that he wished he had half or even a quarter of what was in that box. The wish grew stronger and stronger; then came the thought how easily he might get at it some time when there was no one in Mrs. Bradford's room. Then he began prying and watching and looking at the drawer where the money lay, thinking how fine it would be if he could only wish the bank-notes out of it into his own pocket. Conscience whispered loudly, struggling with the evil spirit which was gaining such a hold upon him, but all in vain, he would not listen; and her voice grew fainter and fainter.

At last he resolved that he would have some of that money, come what might, although he had in the mean while found out from the boys with what purpose the dear little girls were saving it. And "chance" (as he called it) threw a fine opportunity in his way.

"This bill is bad," said Mrs. Moore to her husband, one morning when George was in the room. "It was among those you gave me yesterday, and was refused in a store where I offered it."

Mr. Moore took it from her. "A counterfeit certainly," he said; "it is unmistakably bad. I wonder I should have been so careless as to take it." Then twisting it up, he tossed it among a heap of waste paper that lay in a little basket, for Mr. Moore was rather a careless man. That note should have been destroyed at once when he knew it was bad.

A terrible thought came into George's mind, and he did not shut it out. He lingered a moment behind his parents, and snatching the false note, thrust it far down in his pocket; then he followed to the breakfast-room. But he could eat nothing; the food lay untouched upon his plate. A guilty, almost sick feeling took from him all appetite, made him hate the sight of those happy faces about the table, and think that every look which was turned upon him was full of anger and scorn. Once when Harry accidentally touched him, he clapped his hand over his pocket with a sudden fear that he was about to drag forth the note and expose him; and when tender-hearted little Bessie came to him, saying that, since he had eaten no breakfast, he should have half of her orange, he pushed her rudely from him, and would not take the gift she offered so prettily. His father reproved him sharply for his ill-manners, and his mother said she was sure George was not well, something had been wrong with him for two or three days; he must see the doctor.

Yes, something was wrong, very wrong with George, but it was not what his anxious mother thought; it was far worse than any sickness of the body; it was the evil of a bad heart, of a guilty purpose, and no doctor could cure him since he would not go to the great Physician. All the morning he crept about the house, wretched and uneasy, looking miserable enough to give cause for his mother's anxiety. Once or twice his wicked resolution almost gave way, and he half determined to throw away the note and think no more of the money in the box; but again the tempter whispered, drowning the feeble voice of conscience, and giving him many reasons why he should take what he wished for.

That afternoon he was left alone. His mother and Mrs. Bradford went out, taking Maggie and Bessie with them, leaving him behind at his own request. The boys were at school; his father and Mr. Bradford far away down town; it really seemed as if all had been arranged for him to carry out his purpose.