CHAPTER III
JACK'S NEW PLAN
Aunt Rachel was right in one thing, as Jack realized. He could not findhorses to hold every day, and even if he had succeeded in that, fewwould have paid him so munificently as the stranger of the day before.In fact, matters came to a crisis, and something must be sold to raisefunds for immediate necessities. Now, the only article of luxury--if itcould be called so--in the possession of the family was a sofa, in verygood preservation, indeed nearly new, for it had been bought only twoyears before when business was good. A neighbor was willing to payfifteen dollars for this, and Mrs. Harding, with her husband's consent,agreed to part with it.
"If ever we are able we will buy another," said Timothy.
"And, at any rate, we can do without it," said his wife.
"Rachel will miss it."
"She said the other day that it was not comfortable, and ought never tohave been bought; that it was a shameful waste of money."
"In that case she won't be disturbed by our selling it."
"No, I should think not; but it's hard to tell how Rachel will takeanything."
This remark was amply verified.
The sofa was removed while the spinster was out, and without any hint toher of what was going to happen. When she returned, she looked aroundfor it with surprise.
"Where's the sofy?" she asked.
"We've sold it to Mrs. Stoddard," said Mrs. Harding, cheerfully.
"Sold it!" echoed Rachel, dolefully.
"Yes; we felt that we didn't need it, and we did need money. She offeredme fifteen dollars for it, and I accepted."
Rachel sat down in a rocking-chair, and began straightway to show signsof great depression of spirits.
"Life's full of disappointments!" she groaned. "Our paths is continuallybeset by 'em. There's that sofa. It's so pleasant to have one in thehouse when a body's sick. But, there, it's gone, and if I happen to getdown, as most likely I shall, for I've got a bad feeling in my stummickthis very minute, I shall have to go upstairs, and most likely catch mydeath of cold, and that will be the end of me."
"Not so bad as that, I hope," said Mrs. Harding, cheerfully. "You knowwhen you was sick last, you didn't want to use the sofa; you said itdidn't lay comfortable. Besides, I hope before you are sick we may beable to buy it back again."
Aunt Rachel shook her head despondingly.
"There ain't any use in hoping that," she said. "Timothy's got so muchbehindhand that he won't be able to get up again; I know he won't!"
"But, if he only manages to find steady work soon, he will."
"No, he won't," said Rachel, positively. "I'm sure he won't. There won'tbe any work before spring, and most likely not then."
"You are too desponding, Aunt Rachel."
"Enough to make me so. If you had only taken my advice, we shouldn'thave come to this."
"I don't know what advice you refer to, Rachel," said Mrs. Harding,patiently.
"No, I don't expect you do. My words don't make no impression. Youdidn't pay no attention to what I said, that's the reason."
"But if you'll repeat the advice, Rachel, perhaps we can still profit byit," answered Mrs. Harding, with imperturbable good humor.
"I told you you ought to be layin' up something agin' a rainy day. Butthat's always the way. Folks think when times is good it's alwaysa-goin' to be so, but I know better."
"I don't see how we could have been much more economical," said Mrs.Harding, mildly.
"There's a hundred ways. Poor folks like us ought not to expect to havemeat so often. It's frightful to think what the butcher's bill must havebeen for the last two months."
Inconsistent Rachel! Only the day before she had made herself veryuncomfortable because there was no meat for dinner, and said shecouldn't live without it. Mrs. Harding might have reminded her of this,but the good woman was too kind and forbearing to make the retort. Shereally pitied Rachel for her unhappy habit of despondency. So shecontented herself by saying that they must try to do better in future.
"That's always the way," muttered Rachel; "shut the stable door afterthe horse is stolen. Folks never learn from experience till it's toolate to be of any use. I don't see what the world was made for, for mypart. Everything goes topsy-turvy, and all sorts of ways except theright way. I sometimes think 'tain't much use livin'!"
"Oh, you'll feel better by and by, Rachel."
"No, I shan't; I feel my health's declinin' every day. I don't know howI can stand it when I have to go to the poorhouse."
"We haven't gone there yet, Rachel."
"No, but it's comin' soon. We can't live on nothin'."
"Hark, there's Jack coming," said his mother, hearing a quick stepoutside.
"Yes, he's whistlin' just as if nothin' was the matter. He don't careanything for the awful condition of the family."
"You're wrong there, Rachel; Jack is trying every day to get somethingto do. He wants to do his part."
Rachel would have made a reply disparaging to Jack, but she had nochance, for our hero broke in at this instant.
"Well, Jack?" said his mother, inquiringly.
"I've got a plan, mother," he said.
"What's a boy's plan worth?" sniffed Aunt Rachel.
"Oh, don't be always hectorin' me, Aunt Rachel," said Jack, impatiently.
"Hectorin'! Is that the way my own nephew talks to me?"
"Well, it's so. You don't give a feller a chance. I'll tell you what I'mthinking of, mother. I've been talkin' with Tom Blake; he sells papers,and he tells me he makes sometimes a dollar a day. Isn't that good?"
"Yes, that is very good wages for a boy."
"I want to try it, too; but I've got to buy the papers first, you know,and I haven't got any money. So, if you'll lend me fifty cents, I'll tryit this afternoon."
"You think you can sell them, Jack?"
"I know I can. I'm as smart as Tom Blake, any day."
"Pride goes before a fall!" remarked Rachel, by way of a damper."Disappointment is the common lot."
"That's just the way all the time," said Jack, provoked.
"I've lived longer than you," began Aunt Rachel.
"Yes, a mighty lot longer," interrupted Jack. "I don't deny that."
"Now you're sneerin' at me on account of my age, Jack. Martha, how canyou allow such things?"
"Be respectful, Jack."
"Then tell Aunt Rachel not to aggravate me so. Will you let me have thefifty cents, mother?"
"Yes, Jack. I think your plan is worth trying."
She took out half a dollar from her pocketbook and handed it to Jack.
"All right, mother. I'll see what I can do with it."
Jack went out, and Rachel looked more gloomy than ever.
"You'll never see that money again, you may depend on't, Martha," shesaid.
"Why not, Rachel?"
"Because Jack'll spend it for candy, or in some other foolish way."
"You are unjust, Rachel. Jack is not that kind of boy."
"I'd ought to know him. I've had chances enough."
"You never knew him to do anything dishonest."
"I suppose he's a model boy?"
"No, he isn't. He's got faults enough, I admit; but he wouldn't spendfor his own pleasure money given him for buying papers."
"If he buys the papers, I don't believe he can sell them, so the money'swasted anyway," said Rachel, trying another tack.
"We will wait and see," said Mrs. Harding.
She saw that Rachel was in one of her unreasonable moods, and that itwas of no use to continue the discussion.