Jacks Ward | Page 6

her head despondingly.
"There ain't any use in hoping that," she said. "Timothy's got so much
behindhand 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't
be 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't
have 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. You

didn'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 by
it," answered Mrs. Harding, with imperturbable good humor.
"I told you you ought to be layin' up something agin' a rainy day. But
that's always the way. Folks think when times is good it's always
a-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 have
meat so often. It's frightful to think what the butcher's bill must have
been for the last two months."
Inconsistent Rachel! Only the day before she had made herself very
uncomfortable because there was no meat for dinner, and said she
couldn'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.
She really pitied Rachel for her unhappy habit of despondency. So she
contented herself by saying that they must try to do better in future.
"That's always the way," muttered Rachel; "shut the stable door after
the horse is stolen. Folks never learn from experience till it's too late to
be of any use. I don't see what the world was made for, for my part.
Everything goes topsy-turvy, and all sorts of ways except the right 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 how I
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 step

outside.
"Yes, he's whistlin' just as if nothin' was the matter. He don't care
anything for the awful condition of the family."
"You're wrong there, Rachel; Jack is trying every day to get something
to do. He wants to do his part."
Rachel would have made a reply disparaging to Jack, but she had no
chance, 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'm
thinking 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 try it 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
can you allow such things?"
"Be respectful, Jack."
"Then tell Aunt Rachel not to aggravate me so. Will you let me have
the fifty 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," she
said.
"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