Ronald D. Page.
As the note was dated back one month, Ronald had but two months in which to raise the money. He objected to putting the note on interest, the amount was so small; but Marcus told him this was the proper way to do, and added that possibly the note would not be paid when due, in which case the interest would be larger.
The receipt Ronald received was as follows:
| Highburg, March 12, 185—. | |
| Ronald D. Page, | |
| To Joseph Baker, Dr. | |
| For one second-hand “Reader,” | 50 cents. |
| Received payment by note, | Joseph Baker. |
Marcus told Joseph that if he should happen to want the money at any time before the note was due, to bring it to him, and he would “discount” it—that is, give him the money for the note; in which case Ronald would owe the debt to Marcus, instead of to Joseph. This transfer could be made, because the note was payable “to Joseph Baker, or order;” and all Joseph would have to do, to make it the property of another, would be, to write his name across the back of the note.
Jessie’s rule, never to buy anything she could not pay for at the time, is a wise one, for a person situated as she was. She had another excellent business habit, which all might imitate with profit. She kept a strict account of all her money transactions. Every cent she received or expended was noted down in a little book kept for the purpose. She thus cultivated habits of order and economy, had the satisfaction of knowing just where her money went, and could always tell what any particular article cost her, and how long it lasted, by turning to her book.
But Jessie’s account book was after all a small affair. The columns of dollars and cents, on both the Cr. and Dr. side, increased slowly; for the reason that dollars and cents were a very scarce article with her. The little pittance which her mother was able to spare her, was all the money that passed through her hands, and this, with strict economy and self-denial, was barely sufficient to clothe her decently. No one knew how sadly she was sometimes straitened for money, for she never complained of her many disappointments and deprivations.
But though Jessie did not complain, she often sighed in secret for the day when she should be free from dependence and poverty—when she should become a help, instead of being a burden, to her mother. A door of deliverance opened to her sooner than she anticipated. One day, on returning from school, she found her uncle Morrison at the house, waiting to see her. He lived about forty miles distant, and as he had but seldom visited Highburg, when Jessie’s parents were living there, his appearance was quite unexpected. He remained with the family over night, and in the evening explained to his niece the object of his visit. About six months previous to this time, he had buried his only child, a daughter. His wife had been very low-spirited ever since, and both of them deeply felt their loss. They now wished to adopt Jessie in place of the lost child, receiving her into their home as a daughter, and lavishing upon her the care and affection of parental hearts. They knew something of Jessie’s amiable disposition, varied accomplishments, and excellent character, and judged that she was not unworthy of the great favor they sought to confer upon her.
Jessie did not instantly accept the offer, with profuse thanks, as Mr. Morrison expected she would, but she promised to give her answer the next morning. It was no trifling struggle which she passed through that night, in coming to a decision on her uncle’s proposition. If she accepted it, she would at once be delivered from griping poverty, would cease to be an expense to her mother, and would enjoy the comforts and advantages of a permanent home. If this had been all, she might have easily decided the question. But there was something more to be taken into the account. Mr. Morrison, who was a large, jovial and good-hearted, though rather coarse and uncultivated man, kept the tavern in the village where he lived. Jessie had once visited him, and had a vivid recollection of his house, which was pervaded from top to bottom with a mingled flavor of alcohol and tobacco, and was the favorite resort, especially during the evening and the Sabbath, of a set of idle and not very prepossessing men, whose low and profane conversation sometimes penetrated beyond the piazza and the bar-room. Mr. Morrison, though apparently an honest, well-meaning man, seemed to have no religious principle. He was not a church-goer, but spent the Sabbath pretty much as he did other days. He relished the coarse jest, and the story spiced with vulgarity or profaneness, as much as did any of the idlers who frequented his house; and Jessie had a suspicion that he slyly relished his own liquors, too, but of this she was not positive.
Such was the man who proposed to become a father to Jessie. He was doubtless kindly disposed, had ample means, and would do all for her that he had promised. His wife was an excellent woman, with whom Jessie would have esteemed it a privilege to live. The temptation was strong, but the next morning Jessie was prepared to give a firm and decided answer to her uncle. She told him she thought she had better remain where she was—that she was with kind friends, and should soon be fitted to support herself by teaching. Mr. Morrison was surprised at her decision, and tried to reason her out of it, pointing out the advantages she would enjoy, if she went to live with him. Mistaking the ground of her refusal, he told her that if she did not wish to be dependent upon any one, he would give her a first-rate education, after which she might have the privilege of supporting herself by teaching, if she preferred. But his arguments and persuasions all failed, and he was obliged to go home without her. He was not without hope, however, that she would yet “come to her senses,” as he expressed it—for he evidently thought she was beside herself in rejecting such a fine offer; and he told her he would come for her at any time within a few weeks, if she would write. She did write, to thank her aunt for her kindness, and to express her regret that she felt compelled to decline the liberal offer, and that was the end of the matter. She preferred poverty and toil, in her present position, rather than money and ease, coupled with influences that might work disastrously upon her character and her happiness.