Paul Clifford sat at his ledger with a perplexed and anxious look. It was near two o’clock and his note was in bank. If he could not raise five hundred dollars by three o’clock, that note would be protested. Money was exceedingly hard to raise, and he was about despairing. Once he thought of applying to John Anderson, but he said to himself, “No, I will not touch his money, for it is the price of blood,” for he did not wish to owe gratitude where he did not feel respect. It was now five minutes past two o’clock and in less than an hour his note would be protested unless relief came from some unexpected quarter.

“Is Mr. Clifford in?” said a full manly voice. Paul, suddenly roused from his painful reflections, answered, “Yes, come in. Good morning sir, what can I do for you this morning?”

“I have come to see you on business.”

“I am at your service,” said Paul.

“Do you remember,” said the young man, “of having aided an unfortunate friend more than a dozen years since by lending him five hundred dollars?”

“Yes, I remember he was an old friend of mine, a school-mate of my father’s, Charles Smith.”

“Well I am his son, and I have come to liquidate my father’s debt. Here is the money with interest for twelve years.”

Paul’s heart gave a sudden bound of joy. Strong man as he was a mist gathered in his eyes as he reached out his hand to receive the thrice welcome sum. He looked at the clock, it was just fifteen minutes to three.

“Will you walk with me to the bank or wait till I return?”

“I will wait,” said James Smith, taking up the morning paper.

“You are just in time, Mr. Clifford,” said the banker smiling and bowing as Paul entered, “I was afraid your note would be protested; but it is all right.”

“Yes,” said Paul, “the money market is very tight, but I think I shall weather the storm.”

“I hope so, you may have to struggle hard for awhile to keep your head above the water; but you must take it for your motto that there is no such word as ‘fail.’”

“Thank you, good morning.”

“Well Mr. Smith,” said Paul when he returned, “your father and mine were boys together. He was several years younger than my father, and a great favorite in our family among the young folks. About twelve years since when I had just commenced business, I lent him five hundred dollars, and when his business troubles became complicated I refused to foreclose a mortgage which I had on his home. An acquaintance of mine sneered at my lack of business keenness, and predicted that my money would be totally lost, when I told him perhaps it was the best investment I ever made.” He smiled incredulously and said, “I would rather see it than hear of it: but I will say that in all my business career I never received any money that came so opportune as this. It reminds me of the stories that I have read in fairy books. People so often fail in paying their own debts, it seems almost a mystery to me that you should pay a debt contracted by your father when you were but a boy.”

“The clue to this mystery has been the blessed influence of my sainted mother;” and a flush of satisfaction mantled his cheek as he referred to her.

“After my father’s death my mother was very poor. When she looked into the drawer there were only sixty cents in money. Of course, he had some personal property, but it was not immediately available like money, but through the help of kind friends she was enabled to give him a respectable funeral. Like many other women in her condition of life, she had been brought up in entire ignorance of managing any other business, than that which belonged to her household. For years she had been shielded in the warm clasp of loving arms, but now she had to bare her breast to the storm and be father and mother both to her little ones. My father as you know died in debt, and he was hardly in his grave when his creditors were upon her track. I have often heard her speak in the most grateful manner of your forbearance and kindness to her in her hour of trouble. My mother went to see my father’s principal creditor and asked him only to give her a little time to straighten out the tangled threads of her business, but he was inexorable, and said that he had waited and lost by it. Very soon he had an administrator appointed by the court, who in about two months took the business in his hands; and my mother was left to struggle along with her little ones, and face an uncertain future. These were dark days but we managed to live through them. I have often heard her say that she lived by faith and not sight, that poverty had its compensations, that there was something very sweet in a life of simple trust, to her, God was not some far off and unapproachable force in the universe, the unconscious Creator of all consciousness, the unperceiving author of all perception, but a Friend and a Father coming near to her in sorrows, taking cognizance of her grief, and gently smoothing her path in life. But it was not only by precept that she taught us; her life was a living epistle. One morning as the winter was advancing I heard her say she hoped she would be able to get a nice woolen shawl, as hers was getting worse for wear. Shortly after I went out into the street and found a roll of money lying at my feet. Oh I remember it as well as if it had just occurred. How my heart bounded with joy. ‘Here,’ I said to myself, ’is money enough to buy mother a shawl and bonnet. Oh I am so glad,’ and hurrying home I laid it in her lap and said with boyish glee, ’Hurrah for your new shawl; look what I found in the street.’”

“What is it my son?” she said.

Why here is money enough to buy you a new shawl and bonnet too. It seems as if I see her now, as she looked, when she laid it aside, and said-

“But James, it is not ours?”

“Not ours, mother, why I found it in the street!”

“Still it is not ours.”

“Why mother ain`t you going to keep it?”

“No my son, I shall go down to the Clarion office and advertise it.”

“But mother why not wait till it is advertised?”

“And what then?”

“If there is no owner for it, then we can keep it.”

“James” she said calmly and sadly, “I am very sorry to see you so ready to use what is not your own. I should not feel that I was dealing justly, if I kept this money without endeavoring to find the owner.”

“I confess that I was rather chopfallen at her decision, but in a few days after advertising we found the rightful owner. She was a very poor woman who had saved by dint of hard labor the sum of twenty dollars, and was on her way to pay the doctor who had attended her during a spell of rheumatic fever, when she lost the money and had not one dollar left to pay for advertising and being disheartened, she had given up all hope of finding it, when she happened to see it advertised in the paper. She was very grateful to my mother for restoring the money and offered her some compensation, but she refused to take it, saying she had only done her duty, and would have been ashamed of herself had she not done so. Her conduct on this occasion made an impression on my mind that has never been erased. When I grew older she explained to me about my father’s affairs, and uncancelled debts, and I resolved that I would liquidate every just claim against him, and take from his memory even the shadow of a reproach. To this end I have labored late and early; to-day I have paid the last claim against him, and I am a free man.”

“But how came you to find me and pay me to-day?” “I was purchasing in Jones & Brother’s store, when you came in to borrow money, and I heard Jones tell his younger brother that he was so sorry that he could not help you, and feared that you would be ruined.”

“Who is he?” said I, “for out West I had lost track of you.”

“He is Paul Clifford, a friend of your father’s. Can you help him? He is perfectly reliable. We would trust him with ten thousand dollars if we had it. Can you do anything for him? we will go his security, he is a fine fellow and we hate to see him go under.”

“Yes” said I, “he was one of my father’s creditors and I have often heard my mother speak of his generosity to her little ones, and I am glad that I have the privilege of helping him. I immediately went to the bank had a note cashed and I am very glad if I have been of any special service to you.”

“You certainly have been, and I feel that a heavy load had been lifted from my heart.”

Years ago Paul Clifford sowed the seeds of kindness and they were yielding him a harvest of satisfaction.