Timothy Crumps Ward | Page 9

difficult to picture the amazement of Colman. "Surely, you
told me a different story last night," he said.
"Last night and this morning are different times. Then I could not pay
you; now, luckily, I am able. If you cannot change this amount, and
will accompany me to the bank, I will place the money in your hands."
"My dear sir, I am not at all in haste," said the landlord, with a return of
his former affability. "Any time within a week will do. I hope, by the
way, you will continue to occupy this house."
"As I have already engaged Mr. Harrison's house, at the corner of the
street, I shall be unable to remain. Besides, I do not want to interfere
with the family who are so desirous of moving in."
Mr. Colman was silenced. He regretted, too late, the hasty course which
had lost him a good tenant. The family referred to had no existence;
and, it may be remarked, the house remained vacant for several months,
when he was glad to rent it at the old price.

CHAPTER V.
A LUCKY RESCUE.

THE opportune arrival of the child inaugurated a season of comparative
prosperity in the home of Timothy Crump. To persons accustomed to
live in their frugal way, three hundred dollars seemed a fortune. Nor, as

might have happened in some cases, did this unexpected windfall tempt
the cooper or his wife to extravagances.
"Let us save something against a rainy day," said Mrs. Crump.
"We can, if I get work soon," answered her husband. "This little one
will add but little to our expenses, and there is no reason why we
should not save up at least half of it."
"There's no knowing when you will get work, Timothy," said Rachel,
in her usual cheerful way; "it isn't well to crow before you're out of the
woods."
"Very true, Rachel. It isn't your failing to look too much at the sunny
side of the picture."
"I'm ready to look at it when I can see it anywhere," said his sister, in
the same enlivening way.
"Don't you see it in the unexpected good fortune which came with this
child?" asked Timothy.
"I've no doubt it seems bright enough, now," said Rachel, gloomily,
"but a young child's a great deal of trouble."
"Do you speak from experience, Aunt Rachel?" inquired Jack,
demurely.
"Yes;" said his aunt, slowly; "if all babies were as cross as you were
when you were an infant, three hundred dollars wouldn't begin to pay
for the trouble of having one round."
Mr. Crump and his wife laughed at this sally at Jack's expense, but the
latter had his wits about him sufficiently to answer, "I've always heard,
Aunt Rachel, that the crosser a child is the pleasanter he will grow up.
What a very pleasant baby you must have been!"
"Jack!" said his mother, reprovingly; but his father, who looked upon it
as a good joke, remarked, good-humoredly, "He's got you there,
Rachel."
The latter, however, took it as a serious matter, and observed that, when
she was young, children were not allowed to speak so to their elders.
"But, I don't know as I can blame 'em much," she continued, wiping her
eyes with the corner of her apron, "when their own parents encourage
'em in it."
Timothy was warned, by experience, that silence was his best (sic)
defence. Since anything he might say would only be likely to make
matters worse.

Aunt Rachel sank into a fit of deep despondency, and did not say
another word till dinner time. She sat down to the table with a profound
sigh, as if there was little in life worth living for. Notwithstanding this,
it was observed that she had a good appetite. Indeed, Rachel seemed to
thrive on her gloomy views of life and human nature. She was, it must
be acknowledged, perfectly consistent in all her conduct, as far as this
peculiarity was concerned. Whenever she took up a newspaper, she
always looked first to the space appropriated to deaths, and next in
order to the column of accidents, casualties, etc., and her spirits were
visibly exhilarated when she encountered a familiar name in either list.
Mr. Crump continued to look out for work, but it was with a more
cheerful spirit. He did not now feel as if the comfort of his family
depended absolutely upon his immediate success. Used economically,
the money he had by him would last nine months, and during that time
it was impossible that he should not find something to do. It was this
sense of security--of possessing something upon which he could fall
back--that enabled him to keep up good heart. It is too generally the
case that people are content to