KATY MATURES A MAGNIFICENT SCHEME

“I suppose it is all for the best, mother,” said Katy, when she had told her sad story of disappointment.  “I can’t get those words out of my head, since you have told me about my father.  I feel just as though everything would come out right, it does go very bad just now.”

“I am glad you feel so, Katy,” added Mrs. Redburn.  “It will make you much better contented with your lot.  I have suffered so much that I cannot help repining a little, though I feel that my destiny and yours is in the hands of the wise Father, who bringeth good out of evil.”

Katy had not yet reached that spirit of meek submission to the will of Heaven which looks upward in the hour of trial, not doubting that the all-wise God knows best what is for the good of his children.  If she believed that misfortunes were all for the best, it was only an impulse derived from the story of her father; a kind of philosophy which was very convenient for the evil day, because it permitted the sufferer to lie down and take things easily.  It was not a filial trust in the wisdom and mercy of the heavenly Father that sustained her as the clouds grew thicker and blacker around her; it was only a cold indifference, a feeling of the head rather than the heart.

But Mrs. Redburn had been reading the New Testament during Katy’s absence, and a better and purer spirit pervaded her soul than when the weight of the blow first struck so heavily upon her.  She was well educated, and capable of reasoning in a just manner over her misfortunes; and those words on the watch seemed to convey a new meaning to her, as she considered them in the light of Christian revelation.  They were not the basis of a cold philosophy; they assured her of the paternal care of God.  The thought strengthened and revived her, and when Katy appeared to announce a new trial, she received the intelligence with calmness, and felt more ready than ever before to leave her destiny in the hands of Heaven.  For an hour she conversed with Katy on this subject, and succeeded in giving her some new views in relation to the meaning of the words she had so often repeated that afternoon.

The poor girl felt as she had never felt before.  Upon her devolved the responsibility of providing for her mother.  She had no other friend, and that day seemed to open a new era in her existence.  She felt strong for the work before her, and resolved to lose not a single day in putting her resolution into operation.  The teachings of her mother, breathing a spirit of piety and resignation, were grateful to her heart, and added new strength to her arm.

There was still food enough in the house for Katy’s supper, for her mother could not eat, though she drank a cup of tea.  The morning sun would shine upon them again, bringing another day of want and wretchedness, but the poor girl banished her fears, trusting for the morrow to Him who feedeth the hungry raven, and tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb.

She laid her head upon her pillow that night, not to sleep for many a weary hour, but to think of the future; not of its sorrows and treasured ills, but of the golden opportunities it would afford her to do something for her sick mother.  At one o’clock the next day Dr. Flynch would come for the rent again and her mother could not pay him.  She felt assured he was cold and cruel enough to execute his wicked threat to turn them out of the house, though her mother had not been off her bed for many weeks.  What could be done?  They could not pay the rent; that was impossible; and she regarded it as just as impossible to melt the heart of Dr. Flynch.  But long before she went to sleep she had decided what to do.

Worn out with fatigue and anxiety, she did not wake till a late hour; and her mother, who had kept a weary vigil all night, was glad to see her sleep so well, and did not arouse her.  She was refreshed by her deep slumbers, and got up feeling like a new creature.  She had scarcely made a fire and put on the tea-kettle, before a knock at the door startled her.  Who could wish to see them in their poverty and want?-who but some evil person, coming to heap some new grief upon them?  She scarcely had the courage to open the door, but when she did so, she saw the smiling face of Tommy Howard.

“Good morning, Katy,” said he, as he handed her a little basket he had brought.  “Mother sent this over, and wants to know how Mrs. Redburn does to-day.”

“She is about the same.  What is in this basket, Tommy?”

“O, you know;” and he turned to run away.

“Stop a minute, Tommy,” called Katy.  “I want to speak to you.”

“Well, what is it?”

“You haven’t told anybody about it-have you?”

“About what?”

“What I told you yesterday,” replied Katy, hanging her head with shame.

“What do you mean?”

“That we had nothing to eat,” and Katy blushed as though it was a crime to be hungry and have nothing to eat.

“Not a soul-catch me! that is, I hain’t told nobody but mother.”

“I am sorry you did, even her.  My mother is very proud, if she is poor; but she wasn’t always so poor as she is now, for she is the daughter of a rich merchant.”

“You don’t say so.”

“Yes, I do, Tommy; so please don’t say a word about it to anybody but your mother, and ask her not to mention it.”

“Not a word, Katy, mother won’t say a word either.”

“And sometime I’ll tell you all about it.  Thank you for what’s in the basket, Tommy.”

Without waiting for anything more, the noble, generous boy leaped down the stairs and passed out at the front door.

“What have you got there, Katy?” asked Mrs. Redburn, as she entered the room with the basket in her hand.

“Something Mrs. Howard sent us,” she replied, as she opened the basket, and took out a plate of butter and half a dozen hot biscuit, which she carried to the bedside for her mother’s inspection.

“What have you done, my child?” exclaimed the poor woman, a flush gathering on her pale cheek.  “Have you told the neighbors that we have nothing to eat?”

“I couldn’t help telling Tommy when I asked for the flounders yesterday; he told his mother, but no one else knows it.”

“I had rather starve than beg, Katy; but I cannot compel you to do so.”

“I will not beg.”

“Then let us send those cakes back.”

“No, mother; we must not be so proud as that.  I think that God sent us this food through Mrs. Howard, and it would be wicked to reject His bounty.”

“Do as you please, Katy.”

“Some time we shall be able to pay her; and that will make it all right.”

Mrs. Redburn could not taste the biscuit, but Katy ate heartily.  Her pride was not inflated by the remembrance of brighter days.  All she had was inherited from her mother.

After breakfast she put on her bonnet and left the house, assuring her mother she should be back by twelve o’clock.  She would not tell her where she was going, but evaded her questions, and got away as soon as she could.

As she passed down Washington Street, she stopped before the store of Sands & Co., for she wanted to see Master Simon Sneed.  She did not like to enter the store; so she waited on the sidewalk for half an hour, hoping he would come out.  As he did not appear, her impatience would not permit her to lose any more time, and she timidly opened the door, and inquired of the first salesman she saw if Mister Sneed was in.

“Mister Sneed!” laughed the clerk.  “Here, Simon, is one of your friends.  Wait upon her.”

Simon, with a flushed cheek, came to the door.  He was horrified at the insinuation of the salesman and wished Katy had been on the other side of the ocean before she had come there to scandalize him by claiming his acquaintance.

“What do you want now?” he demanded, rather rudely.  “Is it not enough that I am willing to help you, without your coming here to bring me into contempt with my associates?”

“I didn’t think there was any harm in it.  I waited outside for half an hour, and you didn’t come out.”

“I can’t leave the affairs of this firm to attend to every little -” and Master Simon’s naturally good heart prevented him from uttering the unkind words that had been on his tongue.  “I suppose you come to know about the watch.  I haven’t had time to call upon the mayor yet, but I will do so at dinner time.”

“I only wanted to ask you if you know where Mrs. Gordon lives,” replied Katy, very sad at the thought of the mischief she had done.

“She lives in Temple Street, over back of the State House.  What do you want of her?”

“I want to see her.  Do you suppose you can get that watch back?”

“I’m certain I can.  When my friend the mayor hears my story, you may depend upon it he will get the watch, or upset all the pawn-brokers’ shops in the city.”

“Are you acquainted with the mayor?” asked Katy, timidly, for, since the adventure of the previous day, she had entertained some slight doubts in regard to the transcendent abilities of Master Simon Sneed.

“Certainly I am.  It was only last week that I had a long and extremely interesting conversation with his honor on the sidewalk here before the store.”

Katy was satisfied, though Simon did not offer to introduce her to his distinguished friend.  How could she help being satisfied in the face of such astounding evidence?  And Simon’s declaration was true, for whatever faults he had, he never made up a story out of whole cloth.  It was undeniably true that he had conversed with the mayor for ten full minutes, at the time and place represented.  Simon had been sent out to hold his honor’s horse, while a lady with him did some shopping; but his honor preferred to hold his own horse, and amused himself for the time in listening to the big talk of the nice young man.

After receiving more explicit directions in regard to the residence of Mrs. Gordon, Katy took her leave of Simon.  Next door to Sands & Co.’s was the store of a celebrated confectioner.  In the window, with sundry sugar temples, cob houses of braided candy and stacks of cake, was a great heap of molasses candy; and as Katy paused for an instant to gaze at the profusion of sweet things, a great thought struck through her brain.

“Mother used to make molasses candy for me, and I know just how it is done,” said she to herself.  “What is the reason I can’t make candy and sell it?”

She walked on towards School Street, up which she had been directed to turn, full of this idea.  She would become a little candy merchant.  She felt sure she could find purchasers enough, if her merchandise only looked clean and good.  It was a great deal better than begging, and she thought her mother would consent to her making and selling the candy.  What a glorious idea!  If she could only make money enough to support her mother and herself, how happy she should be!

Full of enthusiasm at the idea of accomplishing such a vast project, she scarcely heeded the crowds of people that thronged the street and rudely jostled her.  If she saw them at all, it was only to regard them as so many purchasers of molasses candy.  With her brain almost reeling with the immensity and magnificence of her scheme, she reached Temple Street.  After a little search, she found the number of Mrs. Gordon’s residence on a splendid house, whose grandness quite abashed her.  But her courage revived as she thought of the purpose that had brought her there, and she boldly rang the bell.  The door was opened by a servant man in a white jacket, of whom she inquired if Mrs. Gordon was at home.

“Mrs. Gordon is at home, but we don’t trouble her at the call of a beggar,” replied the well-fed servant as he glanced at the homely apparel of Katy.

“I am not a beggar,” she replied, with spirit, her cheek reddening with indignation at the charge.

“You can’t see her; so go about your business.”

“Who is it Michael?” said a gentle voice within.

“Only a beggar, Miss Grace; she wants to see Mrs. Gordon,” replied the man; and then a beautiful young lady came to look at her.

“I am not a beggar, ma’am; indeed I am not.  I want to see Mrs. Gordon very much.  Please to let me speak to her.”

The sweet, pleading tones of the child produced their impression on the beautiful lady, and she bade her come in.  Katy entered, and Michael told her to stand in the entry while Miss Grace went up-stairs to call Mrs. Gordon.