The Labor enquirer., 1883-01-20

Guilty in procuring the sum required"
Mary did not plead her case. On its
simple statement her request had been
refused, and in such cold, hurting Ian
Fguage that she felt stunned and NhumiIi-
ated. Rising, she murmured faint
apology for having troubled Mr.. Bost-
wick, and withdrew. He made no eff
fort to retain her, though a little sur
prised that she failed in importantly,
and not altogether satisfied with him
self for the manner in which he had de-
MED the unhappy girl. He had taken
all for granted against her-nothing in
her favor. -'
On the next day at IL o'clock, Mary.
. Wilde stood beside pupil at the piano.
Her dropping eyes, her helpless, almost
hopeless face, were evidence of what she
had suffered
"Are you sick, Miss Mary ?" asked the
: girl she was teaching, lifting, as she
spoke, a pair of soft blue eyes that were
full of tenderness and sympaty.
"My head aches" Mary turned her
face partly aside, as she answered, or
rather evaded the child's question. There
was pause and an intermission in the
lesson. In that pause heavy vehicle
ratified up to thedoor and stopped. Then
the bell was srung violently. Mary started
and trembled and grew so weak thatshe
had to sit down.
,"Pm sorry you are sick" said the child
leaving her place at the piano. -.
The door was opened, and the tread of
a man was heard in the passage. Mrs.
Wilde, hoping to spare her daughter,
had come down to meet him. The Wis
itor spoke loudly, asking if his money
was ready. At the sound of his voice
Mary became almost white and shook
with strong nervous chill, Her young
scholar looked frightened. Seeing this
Mary rallied herself and spoke some as
suring words. Then she advanced to
the parlor doom and opening it, said to
the owner of the piano:
81 haven't the money, sir, and you
must take the instrument. I've tried my
best and can do5no more"
The man stood scowling at her for a
moment or two, and then went out for
the cabman and his assistant, who re-
moved the piano. After this was done,
he said sharply to Mrs. Wilde:
"And now, ma'am, when am l to re-
ceive the ten dollars due for the rent of
this instrument
IF you had left it," replied Mary, not
waiting for her mother to answer, and
speaking from a state of aroused indig-
nation at the mans brutal way of con-
ducting himself, "the means of payment
would have been in my hands, and you
would have got your due when l receiv-
ed from my scholars their quarterly
bills. Now you leave me helpless, and l
can promise nothing"
The man was angry and answered her
insolently, at the same time giving ut
terance to threatening language.
Shall come tomorrow ?" asked the
child, when the man was gone.
"No, dear-not tomorrow" Mary's
voice choked her.
when shall l come, Miss Mary?"
Not until | send you word"
The child fingered for a littlesWhile
and then went away.
Here is the other side of this case, and
the reader will agree with us that Mr..
Bostwick did not Judge it correctly. He
had taken the worst, instead of the best,
for granted-had supposed evil instead
of good. Perhaps you or l, reader, might
" have done the same. But that is no JUS
tifcation.
When The child retired Mary turned,
silent and fearful from her mother and
went.away where she could be alone. 1t
seemed to her young heart as if all were
lost. She sat down as in the darkness
of a narrow cell from which there was
no escape. She felt the mantle of de-
spair wrapping itself, fold upon fold,
around her.: and shuddered chilly,
Weak, helpless, hopeless-it was the
darkest period that had yet fallen upon
her young life. = For an hour she had
been thus alone, when word came that
lady wished to see her. She tried to
rally herself-tried to obliterate the
traces Of tears from her eyes and cheeks,
but she tried in vain. With all the signs
ohout her she went down to