He was up by daylight, and found a few more advertisements that looked as if they might lead to something. As early as it was possible to see the parties, he was on the ground, but others were there as soon as himself. They had the advantage of some knowledge and experience in the duties required, and this decided the question. Some spoke kindly, and suggested that he was better fitted for teaching than for business.
“But where am I to find a position at this season of the year, when every place is filled?” asked Dennis. “It might be weeks before I could get anything to do, and I must have employment at once.”
They were sorry, hoped he would do well, turned away, and went on doing well for themselves; but the majority merely satisfied themselves that he would not answer their purpose, and bade him a brief, businesslike good morning. And yet the fine young face, so troubled and anxious, haunted a good many of those who summarily dismissed him. But “business is business.”
The day passed in fruitless inquiry. Now and then he seemed on the point of succeeding, but only disappointment resulted. There were at that season of the year few situations offering where a salary sufficient for maintenance was paid, and for these skilled laborers were required. Dennis possessed no training for anyone calling save perhaps that of teacher. He had merely the fragment of a good general education, tending toward one of the learned professions. He had fine abilities, and undoubtedly would in time have stood high as a lawyer. But now that he was suddenly called upon to provide bread for himself and those he loved, there was not a single thing of which he could say, “I understand this, sir, and can give you satisfaction.”
He knew that if he could get a chance at almost anything, he could soon learn enough to make himself more useful than the majority employed, for few had his will and motive to work. But the point was to find someone who would pay sufficient for his own and his mother’s support while he learned.
It is under just such circumstances that so many men, and especially women, make shipwreck. Thrown suddenly upon their own resources, they bring to the great labor-market of the world general intelligence, and also general ignorance. With a smattering of almost everything, they do not know practically how to do one thing well. Skilled hands, though backed by neither heart nor brains, push them aside. Take the young men or the young women of any well-to-do town or village, and make them suddenly dependent upon their own efforts, and how many could compete in any one thing with those already engaged in supplying the market? And yet just such helpless young creatures are every day compelled to shift for themselves. If to these unfortunates the paths of honest industry seem hedged and thorny, not so those of sin. They are easy enough at first, if any little difficulty with conscience can be overcome; and the devil, and fallen humanity doing his work, stand ready to push the wavering into them.
At the close of the next day, spent in weary search, Dennis met a temptation to which many would have yielded. As a last resort he had been going around among the hotels, willing to take even the situation of porter, if nothing better offered. The day was fast closing, when, worn out and dejected, he entered a first-class house, and made his usual inquiry. The proprietor looked at him for a moment, slapped him on the back, and said: “Yes, you are the man I want, I reckon. Do you drink? No! might have known that from your face. Don’t want a man that drinks for this place. Come along with me, then. Will give you two and a half a day if you suit, and pay you every night. I pay my help promptly; they ain’t near so apt to steal from you then.”
And the man hurried away, followed by Dennis with beating heart and flushed, wondering face. Descending a flight of stairs, they entered a brilliantly lighted basement, which was nothing less than a large, elegantly arranged barroom, with card and lunch-tables, and easy-chairs for the guests to smoke and tipple in at their leisure. All along one side of this room, resplendent with cut glass and polished silver, ran the bar. The light fell warm and mellow on the various kinds of liquor, that were so arranged as to be most tempting to the thirsty souls frequenting the place.
Stepping up to the bulky man behind the bar the landlord said: “There, Mr. Swig, is a young man who will fill capitally the place of the chap we dismissed today for getting tight. You may bet your life from his face that he don’t drink. You can break him in in a few days, and you won’t want a better assistant.”
For a moment a desperate wish passed through Dennis’s mind, “Oh, that wrong were right!” Then, indignant with himself, he spoke up, firmly—“I think I have a word to say in this matter.”
“Well, say on, then; what’s the trouble?”
“I cannot do this kind of work.”
“You will find plenty harder.”
“None harder for one believing as I do. I will starve before I will do this work.”
The man stared at him for a moment, and then coolly replied, “Starve then!” and turned on his heel and walked away.
Dennis also rushed from the place, followed by the coarse, jeering laugh of those who witnessed the scene. In his morbid, suffering state their voices
