Mr. W—— came in later, and went at once into his office. Though Mr. Jones kept the time of every hand, Mr. W—— always made out the pay-roll on the morning of each Saturday, and in the afternoon the hands went into the office as called, one by one, and received their pay.
And that had been the custom for the many years that the bindery, first under the father alone, and now under the father and son, had been kept running. Never, in easy times or hard, had the practice varied—never had a Saturday’s sun set with a single one of their employees unpaid. No wonder that good and steady hands remained there, and the best work in all the great city was the result.
Hattie waited until the noon-day hour of rest came before disturbing Mr. W——. She knew it was his busy day, and she also knew enough to respect it.
If others were always as thoughtful many an employee would be saved the sin of hard thoughts and harsh words.
While the people were at their dinners, Hattie took but a little while for her lunch, and with her letters ready, entered the office.
Mr. W—- sat there, looking weary and sad.
“Do I disturb you, sir?” she asked, gently.
“No, Miss Hattie, you come like an angel of relief. I have been working over Jones’ time-book, and making out the people’s accounts. Permit me to pay you now, so you will not have to come again.”
“Thank you, sir.”
And she took the money she had earned, and signed the receipt-book, as she had done for months and months, when her turn came, but under far different circumstances.