Friends and Neighbors | Page 8

get it."
To many this would be a small sum, but Mr. Allison was peculiarly
situated. He was an honest, upright mechanic, but he was poor. It was
with difficulty he had raised the fifty dollars on the day previous.
Although he had never once failed in returning money at the time
promised, still, for some reason or other, everybody appeared unwilling
to lend him. It was nearly two O'clock and he was still a hundred
dollars short.
"Well," said he to himself, "I have done all I could, and if Hall won't
renew the note for the balance, it will have to be protested. I'll go and
ask him, though I have not much hope that he will do it."
As he was about leaving his shop for that purpose, a gentleman entered
who wished to buy a second-hand carriage. Mr. Allison had but one,
and that almost new, for which he asked a hundred and forty dollars.
"It is higher than I wished to go," remarked the gentleman. "I ought to
get a new one for that price."
"So you can, but not like this. I can sell you a new one for a hundred
and twenty-five dollars. But what did you expect to pay for one?"
"I was offered one at Holton's for seventy-five; but I did not like it. I
will give you a hundred for yours."
"It is too little, indeed, sir: that carriage cost three hundred dollars when
it was new. It was in use a very short time. I allowed a hundred and
forty dollars for it myself."
"Well, sir, I would not wish you to sell at a disadvantage, but if you like
to, accept of my offer I'll take it. I'm prepared to pay the cash down."
Mr. Allison did not reply for some minutes. He was undecided as to
what was best.
"Forty dollars," said he to himself, "is a pretty heavy discount. I am
almost tempted to refuse his offer and trust to Hall's renewing the note.
But suppose he won't--then I'm done for. I think, upon the whole, I had
better accept it. I'll put it at one hundred and twenty-five, my good
friend," said he, addressing the customer.
"No, sir; one hundred is all I shall give."

"Well, I suppose you must have it, then; but indeed you have got a
bargain."
"It is too bad," muttered Allison to himself, as he left the bank after
having paid his note. "There is just forty dollars thrown away. And why?
Simply because those who are blessed with the means of discharging
their debts promptly, neglect to do so."
"How did you make out to-day, George?" asked his wife, as they sat at
the tea-table that same evening.
"I met my note, and that was all."
"Did you give your men anything?"
"Not a cent. I had but one dollar left after paying that. I was sorry for
them, but I could not help them. I am afraid Robinson's family will
suffer, for there has been sickness in his house almost constantly for the
last twelvemonth. His wife, he told me the other day, had not been out;
of her bed for six weeks. Poor fellow! He looked quite dejected when I
told him I had nothing for him."
At this moment; the door-bell rang and a minute or two afterwards, a
young girl entered the room in which Mr. and Mrs. Allison were sitting.
Before introducing her to our readers, we will conduct them to the
interior of an obscure dwelling, situated near the outskirts of the city.
The room is small, and scantily furnished, and answers at once for
parlour, dining-room, and kitchen. Its occupants, Mrs. Perry and her
daughter, have been, since the earliest dawn of day, intently occupied
with their needles, barely allowing themselves time to partake of their
frugal meal.
"Half-past three o'clock!" ejaculated the daughter, her eyes glancing, as
she spoke, at the clock on the mantelpiece. "I am afraid we shall not get
this work done in time for me to take it home before dark, mother."
"We must try hard, Laura, for you know we have not a cent in the
house, and I told Mrs. Carr to come over to-night, and I would pay her
what I owe her for washing. Poor thing! I would not like to disappoint
her, for I know she needs it."
Nothing more was said for near twenty minutes, when Laura again
broke the silence.
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, "what a pain I have in my side!" And for a
moment she rested from her work, and straightened herself in her chair,
to afford a slight relief from the uneasiness she experienced. "I wonder,

mother, if I shall always be obliged to sit so steady?"
"I hope