He asked coolly, however, “Have you no recommendations?”
Dennis produced the ministerial letter, which Mr. Ludolph glanced at with good-natured contempt.
“This is all right,” he said; “superstition is an excellent thing for some minds. I managed Pat a year through his priest, and then he got beyond the priest and me too.”
This undisguised contempt of all that he held sacred, and the classing of true faith with gross superstition, pained Dennis; and his face showed it, though he said nothing.
“There,” said the gentleman, “I did not mean to hurt your feelings, but to the educated in our land these things seem very childish.”
“I should serve you none the worse,” said Dennis, with quiet dignity, “if I believed that the duty I owed to you I owed also to God.”
Mr. Ludolph looked as if a new idea had struck him, smiled, and said: “Most people’s religion, as far as my experience has gone, is not of this practical kind. But I believe that I can trust you, and your face and story are worth much more to me than this letter. A scamp might possess that as well as an honest youth like you. Now, as to terms: I will give you forty dollars a month for the first two months, and then, if you develop and take well to the work, I will give you sixty.”
Dennis thought that this, with close economy, would enable him to live and support his mother and sisters, and he accepted the terms.
“Moreover, to show the advantage of telling a straightforward story, you may sleep in the store: the building will be safer for having someone in it. I will pay you at the end of every week as long as you suit, so that you can commence sending something to your mother immediately. You see that I take an interest in you,” said the shrewd man, “and expect you to take an interest in my business, and work for me as for yourself.”
Simple, honest Dennis could not see that Mr. Ludolph cared infinitely more for himself than for all the world combined, and made it his life-study to get the most out of it with the least cost to himself. Under the words that seemed so kind and considerate, the young man’s heart swelled with the strong and grateful purpose to spare himself in no way in the service of such an employer. The wily man saw this, and smiled to himself over the credulity of mankind.
“Have you enough to last till next Saturday night?” he asked.
“I will make it last,” said Dennis, sturdily.
“That is right,” said Mr. Ludolph. “Stand on your own feet if you can. I never give any more help than will barely enable a man to help himself”—a maxim which had the advantage not only of being sound, but of according exactly with his disposition.
After a moment’s thought, Mr. Ludolph spoke in a tone so sharp, and a manner so stern, that Dennis was startled.
“Mark me, young man, I wish a plain understanding in one respect: you take Pat’s place, and I expect you to do Pat’s work. I wish no trouble to arise from your being above your business.”
“You will have none,” said Dennis, quietly and firmly.
“All right, then. Mr. Schwartz will show you about closing up the store. Be here early Monday morning, and remember that all depends upon yourself.”
In the depths of his grateful heart Dennis felt how much the success of that day and every day of life depended on God.
Mr. Ludolph put on his coat and gloves and went out with Dennis into the store.
“Gentlemen,” said he to his clerks, “this young man, Dennis Fleet by name, will take the place of Pat Murphy, discharged today. Mr. Schwartz, will you show him what it is necessary to do tonight? He will be here on Monday morning at the usual time for opening the store, and after that will sleep in the building.”
The clerks looked at him for a moment, as they might at a new piece of furniture, or a laborsaving machine, and then coolly finished their duties, and followed their employer. Mr. Schwartz showed him about closing the store, taking care of the furnace, etc., and Dennis saw that his place was no sinecure. Still it was not work, but its lack, that he dreaded, and his movements were so eager and earnest that a faint expression of surprise and curiosity tinged the broad, stolid face of Mr. Schwartz; but he only buttoned his coat to the chin and muttered, “New broom,” and went his way homeward, leaving Dennis to go his.
X
The New Broom
The following Sabbath was a bright winter day without, but bright summer in Dennis’s heart. He inquired his way to a neighboring church, and every word of prayer, praise, and truth fell on a glad, grateful spirit. Returning, he wrote a long letter to his mother, telling her all he had passed through, especially dwelling on the truth he had discovered of God’s wish to make this life happy and successful, as well as the life beyond.
In closing, he wrote: “Here I am, Dennis Fleet, who a few days since thought the world scarcely large enough for what I meant to do, standing contentedly and gratefully in Pat Murphy’s shoes. I will not conceal from you, speaking figuratively (the fates forbid that it should be literally true), that I hope to outgrow them, and arrive at something better before many months pass. In the meantime I am indeed thankful for the means of winning honest bread for us all. It is quite a comedown from the classics and law to the position of porter and man of-all-work in a picture and music store, but if God means me to rise He can lead me upward from my lowly standpoint as well as from the
