Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1879-02-25
"Mr. Glenn says he will call around

"Mr. Glenn says he will call aroun,
and pay"
The shoemaker's countenance fell
He let his eyes drop to the work in hi
lap, and bent hfs face downward tha
its expression might be partly conceal
ed from the boy.
ibid you say that he would oblige m
particularly by settling the bill, as i
was Saturday, and had nay workmer
to pay?"
i "Yes, sir but he turned of, sayin,
he did not want to hear anything NOR
from me-"
Barker sighed, and for some mo
ments sat very still upon his bench
Then rising slowly, he referred again t
his package of unsettled bills.
Suppose you try Mr.. Coles again."
The boy shook his head, remarking
with some familiarity of manner.
poor chance there! He's been 90,
ing to call around and pay these thre<
months"
when did you see Mr.. Winton ?''
asked the shoemaker.
Last week."
"What did he say?"
'That he would call around"
"Call around! It's only a get-off!
am out of all patisncev And the
perplexed shoemaker grew excited.
'Thsy are all eager enough to get their
work, and sharp spoken enough If il
isn't ready to the minute. But when 1t
comes to paying, the matter is Of too
little consequence to claim their atten-
tion. All here's Mayberry's account. Z"
I-ho hoA rss 4
he talked.
"Didp't he promise to settle to-day ?''
II think he did, sir" replied the boy.
Every well. Hurry round to his
store, and catch him before he goes to
dinner"
The lad started off with his usual ala
Gritty, and Barker sat down again to
work and wait
mo money?n The shoemaker read
disappointment in the boys face.
mo, sir.n
"Why?"
"Mr. ayberry said he had just depos-
tied everything for the day. and that
he couldn't draw q check for 80 small an
amount. Would pay on Monday"
A thin, pale, weary-looking woman
opened the shop door at this moment,
and came in. She carried basket on
her arm, from which she took a bundle
Of "uppers" that she had taken to close
and bind.
"Here is the work, Mr.. Barker" she
said, in detected voice. II hope you
will find it all right. They would have
been ready two days ago. but my hus-
band is very sick, and I've had to be
up with him all night for three long
nights"
The shoemaker did not see the quail
ity of the work as he took the s'uppers"
from the woman's basket and made a
show Of examining them. He was on
ly thinking of the woman's need and
her expectations. She had performed
her part, but not single dollar had he
in the house, and how was he to per-
form his part
| How is your husband to-day" he
asked, kindly. showing more than usu-
al interest, for he felt that he had little
more than symrathy to give.
| mot SO well" replied the woman. /
have run down for few minutes, and
left him alone, quite as much to get the
money as to bring It home. The doctor
has ordered little wine, and 1 must
get it for him il it takes all have earn
ed this week.
"How much does your work come
/ to ?''
1.-TWO dollars y answered the woman.
The shoemaker went to his desk, and
opening it, took out his little cash-box
and made pretense Of disappointment
as he turned it toward the woman. It
did not contain single copper. Then
he drew forth an old pocket book and
examined every compartment, but with
no better success.
"You are little BIT too carly, Mrs.
Blythe" he said, smiling, yet regret
fully, "a little too early. I havn't re-
ceived my collections for the day. Shall
I send you up the money ?"
The woman sighed, and looked very
much disappointed.
'I'm very sorry, Mrs. Blythe'-the
shoemaker did not manifest the slight
est impatience, fer the understood the
hard, sometimes, to get in our bills.
I've had Andrew running around all
the morning, and he hasn't collected a
single dollar so far. It is strange how
little rich men think of their Obliga-
tions to US poor mechanics, who live,
nearly all the while, from hand to mouth
If could always get in my small bills.
l would be very comfortable. AS 1t is,
I am always in trouble about money"
| Mrs. Blythe stood very still, and an
swered not word. It was hardly pos
sible for her to leave her husband again,
and moreover, she had promised to bring
him home the wine.
! II am very sorry. Mrs. Blythe" re-
peated the shoemaker; "but what Is SO
can't be helped"
"True, true. I learned that long
ago." said the woman, with half de-
spairing sigh. 1.-THE lessons of poverty
sink deeply enough into the memory u
II will send you up the money in the
course of an hour or two. I will not
trouble you to call down again, a. your
husband is SO ILL.,"
Still Mrs. Blythe fingered. How
could she return to her sick, exhausted
husband without the wine that was to
send through all the courses of his blood
q qnickening spirit! She had felt a. II
this wine was to be to him the very
elixir of life; and, since it had been
mentioned by the doctor. she had seen
that her husbands thought was resting
upon it, to the exclusion of everything
else. To go home without it. therefore,
was serious thing, and might involve
and the lightest cause might destroy the
lOvOA 0ol0uC0 Vi AAAO JNoO OSeesAASAt sSAso
throw preponderance upon the wrong
side.
Slowly, at length, she moved toward
the door.
"You will send up the money, Mr.
Barker, right soon, she said, turning
partly around, and looking back at the
| troubled shoemaker.
"The moment 1 receive it. Andrew
is going out with some bills inmediata
lly.n -,
The door opened noiselessly; with
noiseless steps a dropping figure wen
out and noiselessly the door was shut
again. The only sense that took re
cord of the circumstances was that o
sight.
Mr.. Redwood. the merchant, who
thought his shoemaker's bill of 80 lit
tie consequence that he would not take
the trouble to write check in order tt
cancel 1t, left his store some two hour!
after the visit of Andrew, and started
home to his late dinner. On his way
he passed wine store, and dropped II
to order a case of choice Amonti!ad0
the flavor of which he had tried and ap