Rensselaer Republican, Volume 12, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 August 1880 — THE WIDOW’S SEWING MACHINE. [ARTICLE]

THE WIDOW’S SEWING MACHINE.

A STORY OF LOT*, PRIDE AXD POYRRTY. A curious trade to take, but then it has Kwn to b$ profitable. Thingß were at a ’ ebb with me when I took it op, while now— There. I won’t boast, only say that I’m thankftu for it. Poverty comae in at the door, and love flies out of the window, ao tout poor people will always be miserable, while according to my experience your poor man is often more light hearted than the man with thousands. I was at my wit’s end for something to do, and sat nibbling my nails one day, grnmbling horribly. “Dou’t go on like that, Tom,” says my wife: “things might be worse.” “slows I laid.’ “Why,we might have Luk" at home, and he is doing well.” Lake’s our lx>y, yoa know, and we have got him in a merchant’s office, where lie seems likely tb stay, bat I was in a grumbling fit then, and there was a cliukety click noise going on in the next room that fidgeted me terribly. “Things can’t be worse,” I said angrily; and I was going to prove myself in the wrong by making mv wife cry, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said, and a fellow-lodger put in bis bead. “Are yoa good at work, Mr. Smith?” be said. “What work?*’ I said; “fireworks—-gas-workß T “No, no; I mean work of things as goes with wheels and springs” “Middling,” I said; for I was fond of palling clocks to pieces, and trying to invent

“I wish you’d come and look at this sewing machine of mine, for I can’t get it to go.” Bewing machines were newish in those days, ana I got up to look at it, and after übout an hoar’s fiddling about it I began to see a bit of the reason why —the purpose, you know, of all the screws and cranks and wheels; I found out, too, why our neighbor's wife —she was a dressmaker and had just started one—could not-wet it to so; and before night, and by hinting ana patting tide and that together, had got her in the wav of working it pretty steadily, though with my clumsy fingers! couldn’t have done so myself. I had my bit of dinner and tea with these people, and they forced lialf a crown upon me as well, and 1 went back feeling like a new man, so refreshing had been that bit of work.

said my wife, “I told you that something would come.” “Well, so you did,” said I; “but the something is rather small.” But the very next day—as we were living in the midst of the people who were fast taking to sewing machines—if the folks from the next house didn't want me to look at theirs; and then the news apreadiug, as news will spread, that there wua somebody who could cobble and tinker machinery, without putting people to the expense that makers would, if the jobs didn’t come in Curt, so that I was obliged to get flies ana drills and a rise—a regular set of tools by degrees; and at last I was as busy as a bee from morning to night, whistling over my work as happy as a king. Of course, every now and then I got s breakage, but I generally got over that by baying a new wheel or spindle or what not. Next we got to supplying shuttles aod needles, and machine cotton. Soon after I bought a machine of a man who was tired of it. Next week Isold it at a good profit; bought another and another and sold them; then got to taking them aud money in exchange for new ones; and one way or- the other became a regular big dealer, as yon see. Hundred? With new, second-handed, and with those being repaired up-stairs by the men, I’ve got at least three hundred on the premises, which if anybody had told me fifteen years ago that I should be doing this I should have laughed at him.

That pretty girl showing and explaining the machine to a customer? That’s Bath. that is. No, not my daughter yet, but she soon will be. Pobr rinTl always think of her, and of bread thrown upon the water at the same time. Curious idea that, yon will say, bat 1 will tell you why. »• have strange people to deal with. Most of'em are poor, aud can’t bay a machine right off, bat are ready and willing to pay so much a week. That suits them and it suits me, if they’ll only keep tb* payments op to the end. Yoa don’t believe me. perhaps, bat of them don’t do that Some erf leave their lodging* an/I asm

s hes* h mac°hinee back, when I’d allow them as much aa I thought fair, and that * oold be aa end of a pleasant transaction. M The way I have been bitten, though, by some folks has made me that casehardened tiiat sometimes I’ve wondered whether I’ve got any heart left, and the wile bud to Interfere, telling me Tre been spoiled with prosperity, and grown unfeeling. It was that as made me give way about Btolt; for one day, after having my bristles all sat up by finding oat that three good sound machines, by best makers, had gone, nobody knew where, who should come into the shop but e lady-like woman in a very shabby widow’s weed. She wanted a machine for herself and daughter to learn, and Mtid she bad beard I would take the money by installments.. Now just half an hour before, by our shop clock, I had made a vow that I’d give up all that pert of tlte trade, and I was very rough with her—just as I am when I’m cross—and ■aid nNo." “But you will if the lady gives security?” said my with, hastily. The poor woman gave such a woe-be-gone look at us that it made more oat of temper than ever, fori coaid feel that if I stopped I should have to let her have sue at her own terms. And so It was; for there, if I didn’t let her have a first class machine, as good as new: die only paid seven and one-half down, ,tnd undertaking to pay half a erowu a week and no more security tban noth-

• _ To make it worse, too, if I didn’t send the tiling home without charge J —Luke going with it, for l»e was back at borne now, keeping my books, being grown into s'fine fellow of twenty-five; and I sat and growled the whole rest of H.# -W. calling myself all the weakminded idiots under the sun, and telling u»e w ife that business was going to the and I should be ruined. |*X2® OQ fiht to be ashamed of yourself. Torn,” she said. “8o I am,” says I, “didn’t think I could be such a foaL’ 1 “Such a fool as to do a kind action to one who was evidently a lady born, and come down in the world.” “Yes.” I saya, “to be living in Bennett’s place, where I’ve sunk no less than ten machines in five years.” “Yes,” says the wife, “and cleared hundreds of pounds. Tom, I am ashamed of yoa—you a man with twenty workingmen busy up stairs, a couple of thousand pounds worth of stock in the bunk, a ” “Hold your tongue, will you?” I said roughly, and went oat into the shop to try ana work it offi

Luke came back soon after, looking very strange, and I was at him directly. “Where’s the seven an’ six?” I Buys angrily. He didu’t answer, but put three half crowns down on my desk, took ont his book, made entries, date of delivery, first payment, when the others were due and all the rest of it—and was then going into the bouse.

“Mind,” I said Bharply, “those payments are to be kept to the day: ana tomorrow yon go down to the Rollyt who live nearly opposite to ’em, and tell ’em to keep an eye on the widow, or we shall loee another machine.” “You needn’t be afraid, father,” he said coldly; “they’re honest enough, only poor.’’ I was just in that humor that I wanted to quarrel with somebody,and that did it. “When I ask you for your opinion, young man, yon give it to me, and wfieu I tell you to do a thing, you do it,” I said in as savage a way as ever I spoke to tlte lad. “You go over to-morrow and tell the Bollys to keep a strict lookout on these people; do yon hear?” “Father,” he says, looking me still in the face, “I couldn’t insult them by doing each a tiling,” when, without another word, he quickly walked out of the shop, leaving me worse than ever. For that boy bad never spoken to me like that before, and I should have gone after him feeling like mad, only some people came in, and I didn’t see him again until evening, and a good tiling too, for I’m sure I should have said all sorts of things to the boy that I should have been sorry for after. And there I was, fuming and fretting about, savage with everybody, giving short answers, snapping at the wife, and feeling ns a man does feel when he knows he has been in the wrong, and hasu’t the heart to own it. It wasabonl 8 o’clock that I was sitting by the parlor fire, with the wife working ;<nd very quiet, when Luke came in from the workshop with a book under his arm, for he had been footing up the men’s piece, and what was due (o them, ;ind the sight of him made me feel as ir I wanted to qhaml. He saw it too, but he said nothing, only put the accounts uway and began to read.

The wife saw the storm brewing and s>he knew how put out I was, for I had not lit my pipe nor yet hadmy evening's nan, which I always have after tea. She did wlmt nhe so well knew how to do—filled my pipe, forced it in my hand, and ju.-'t ns I was going to dash it to pieeee in the ashes, she gave me one of her old looks, kissed me on the forehead, as with one hand she pressed me back into the chair und then with the other she lit s splint und held it to my tobucco. I was done. She always gets over me like that; and after smoking in silence for half an hour, I was lying back with my eyes closed, dropping off to sleep, when the w ife said (what had gone before I had not beard:) “Yea, he’s asleep now.” That woke me up of course, aud I lay there shamming und heard all they said la a whisper. "How came you to make him more vexed than he was Luke?” says the wife, and he told her. “I couldn’t do it mother,” he said, excitedly. “It was heart-breaking. She’s living in a wretched room there with her daughter: aud mother, when I saw her I felt us if —there I can’t tell you.” “Go on Luke,” she said. “They’re half starved,” he said in a husky way. ‘‘Oh, mother! it is horrible. Bnch a sweet, beautiful girl, and the poor woman herself almost dying with some terrible disease.” _ The wife sighed. “They u>ld me,” be went on, “Ivow bard they had tried to live by ordinary needle work, and failed, and that as a resource they had tried to aet a machine.” “Poor things!” said the wife; “but are you sure the mother was s lady T ’ “A tiersv man’s widow,” said Luke hastily; “there isn’t a doubt about it. Poor girt! and they’ve got to learn to uoe it before it will be of any use.” “Poor giri, Luker said the wife softly ; and lasw through iny eyelashes Unit she laid a hand upon hw aim, when if be didn’t cover his face a ith hie Haims reiA his elbow on tiie table and give a low groan. Then the old woman got am stood behind the chair and began play • lug with hia hair like a foolish mother would. . “Mother," he said suddenly, “will yds go aud see them?” She didn’t answer for a minute, only Stood looking at ium, and then said paid you the first money 7" sSttMfrV u> *•

ceivinir me,.ml llimfwouUlii’t lin.e lilm and ItM mother plot ling against toe, and that I wouldn’t stand t>y and see him make a fool of himself with the first pretty girl he set eyes on, when he might marry Mary Tnrner, the engineer’s J nigh ter, and have a niee bit of money with her to put into the business, and then be my partner. “No, ” I os ye, “if you plot together PH plot alone,” aud then I pretended to wake up, took no notioe and bad my '1 kept rather gruff the next morning, and made myself very busy about the place, aud I dare say I spoke more sharply tban usual, bat wife and Lake were m quiet as could be: and about IS o’clock I went oat with a little oil-can and two or three took in ray pocket. It was not for to Bennett’s place, and on getting to the right place I aaked for Mm. Murray, and was directed to the second floor, where, as I reached the door, I coaid hear tlie clicking of ray sewing machine, and whoever waa there was so bnsy over it that she did not hear me knock; so I opened the door softly and >oked In upon as sad a scene as I shall ver, I dare say. sea. There, In the bare room, sat asleep in her chair the widow lady who came about the machine,and I could see that in her face which told plainly enough that the pain and sofiVring she must have been going through for yearn would noon be over, and situated as she was it gave me a kind of tarn. “It’s no business of yours,” I said to myself roughly, and I turned then to see who it was that waa bending over my machine.

I could see no fiice,only a slight figure in rusty black, aud a pair of busy white hands were trying hard to govern the thing aud to learn to use it welL “8o that’s the gal, is it,” I said to myself. “Ah! Luke, my boy, you’ve got lo the silly calf age ana I dare say—” I got no fortlier, for at that moment the girl started ana turned around, and turned upon me a timid, wondering face that made my heart give a queer throb, and I couldn’t take’my eyes off her. “Oh, dear T she said shortly, holding up her hand; and I saw that it was as thin and transparent as if she had been iil. “Ny name’s Smith,” I said taking out a screw-driver. "Mv machine; howdoes it go? Thought f’u come and see.” Her nice lit up in a moment, and she c-tine forward eagerly. » “I’m so glad you came,” she said, “I -uu’t quite manage this.” She pointed to the thread-regulator, md the next minute I was showing her licit it was too tight, and somehow in a gentle timid way, the little witch quite got over me, aud I stop|>ed there two hours helping her, till her eyes sparkled with delight, as she found how kteily sire could make tlie needle go in and oat the hard material. “Do you think you can do it now?” I said. “Oh, yes, I think so; I am so glad you came. “8o am i,” says I gruffly; “it will make it nil the easier for you to make the money to pay for it.” “And I will work so hard,” she said earnestly. “That yoa will my dear” I says in spite of myself , for I felt shre it wasn’t me speaking, but something in me. “Site been ill long?” I said, nodding toward bar mother. “Months,” she satd, with tears starting in her pretty eyes; “but," she added brightly, “I snail earn enough with this to get her good inedicineeand things she can fancy *” and as I looked at her,something in me said: ‘(rod bless yoa my dear 1 I hope yoa will; and the next minute I was goipg down stairs calling myself a fool. They thought I didn’t know at home, but I did; there was the wife going over San to Bennett’s place and all sorts of ngs were made and taken there. I often used to see them talking about it, but I took no notice; and that artful scoundrel, my boy Luke, used to pay the half crown every week out of Ills own pocket, and after going to fetch it from tlie widow. And all the time I told myself I didn’t like it, for I could see that Luke was changed, and always thinking of that frl —a girl not half good enough for him. remembered when I was poor, and I hated poverty, and I used to speak harshly to tne wife and Luke, and feel very bitter. At lust there came an afternoon when I knew there was something wrong. The wife had gone out directly after dinner, saying she was going, to see a sick woman—l knew wholt was, bless you! —and Luke was fidgeting about, not nimself, and at last he look his hut and weut out

“They might have confided in me,” I said bitterly, but all the time I knew that I wouldn’t let them. They’ll be spending money—throwing it away. I know they’ve spent pounds on them already.” At hurt I got in sucli a way that I called down our foreman, left him iq charge; and took uiy hut aud went after them. Every thing was quiet in Bennett’s te, for a couple of dirty dejectedng women, one who was in arrears to ms, had sent the children that played in the court right away because of the noise, and was keeping guard so that they could not come back. I went upstairs softly, and all was very quiet only as I got nearer to the room I could lieur a bitter wailing cry, and then I opened the door aud weut in. Luke was there standing with his head bent by the eewig machine; the wife sat in a chair, aud on her knees with her face buried in the wile’s lap, wus the poor girl, crying as if her little lieurt would break; while on the bed, with all the look of pain gone oat of het face, lay the widow—gone to meet ho; husband where pain and sorrow are n< more.

I couldn’t see very plainly, for there was a mist before my eyes, but I knew Luke flashed up we ne took a step for ward as if to protect the girl, ana tlu wife looked at me in a frightened wny. But there was no need, for something tliut wasn’t me spoke, and that in a gen tie way, as I stopped forward, raked tlu gfrl up, aud kissed her pretty Ikes before laying her helpless head on my shoulder mid smothfng her brown hair. “Mother,” says that something from within me, “I think there is room in the nest at boms for thk poor, forsaken little bird. Luke, my boy. you will go ami fotcli a cab. Mother will you sae what k wanted fliers My boy jgava a sob aa he caught say baud in bk7and the next moment bo did what he had not done for jasip kissed me on my check—before running out of the room, leaving me with my darling nestling on my breast I said “my darling.” for aha has bees the sunshine of our home ever since—a pale, wriutry sunshine while the sorrow was fresh, but spring aud summer no#. Why bless her! look et her. I’ve frit ashamed sometimes to think that she, a lady of birth, should come down to msspiSeMJoimd of mosey*’ i , , • “*-PPy> thinking her then’s many a gentleman not so wall ass aa my boy wifi be, swan if the money has otrnw of earner trade.