The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 19 September 1912, Page 5

The Storyteller

THE OPTIMIST It was the first of the month. At her desk Mrs. Whitney sat, pencil in hand, a frown above her brows, beneath them a pair of vaguely troubled eyes. Nestling at her feet, a tiny boy quietly, intently, was pulling to pieces the delicate lace flouncing of her negligee. Now and then he looked up with mischievous eyes, and being unperceived, proceeded with his little work of destruction. Now the negligee, though it had been mended and fecleaned to a state of fragility, was still wearable, and the repairing or replacing of the damaged , flounce would make one of those very items, grouped under ‘Miscellaneous/ which every month added themselves into the most incredible total among all of Mrs. Whitney’s vexatious household accounts. There were always extras to the tune of many dollars conspiring to prevent her housekeeping allowance ‘ from covering the monthly bills. ‘ If I could only put my finger upon something to be cut down/ she was thinking. ‘lt seems to be everything and nothing. Groceries have gone up — wonder we’re feeding twice as many. And meat, of course, and milk.’ She ran her eyes over a challenging array of figures. I thought I’d surely have eighty dollars left this month for the coal bill. I forgot the £ insurance coming and we had to have the table linen— ’ Suddenly she beheld the occupation of her eldest. With a smothered cry she caught him up, and his outburst of gleeful chuckles did not save him. The spanks were gentle, but Robert’s response so noisy that the nurse came running, ' ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, stopping short.

Robert, appreciative of the effect of his yells, redoubled .them, making frantic efforts to escape his mother’s arms.

Take him, Mrs. Keegan,’ said she, handing him over. ‘ Robert has been very naughty.’ - * . Whereupon he cried anew, - and : made equally frantic resistance against being carried away. The noise of Robert diminishing up the stairs was reinforced by sympathetic clamor of the baby, and for some minutes uproar reigned. Mrs. Whitney did not stir. When peace ensued, she sighed. / Capable woman, Mrs. Keeganexpensive, but what a help, what a comfort!’

‘ Let me see,' she began, turning again to her accounts; ‘ the coal bill— ’

There was a sound of footsteps approaching from a remote corner of the house, gathering, weight and determination as they came, each step smiting upon the hardwood floors.

‘ Alma in a tantrum,’ she thought, glancing up calmly to meet the flushed indignant young woman who with arms akimbo confronted her and without parley hurled challenge; ‘ You’ll have to get some one in my place, Mrs. Whitney . : The shade of surprise passing over Mrs. Whitney’s face was too nearly imperceptible to betray her. ‘ What is the matter, Alma?’ she asked evenly. Alma, having worked up considerable feeling and being taken aback by the absence of emotional responsiveness, answered stammering: ‘ I can’t do the work;’., ‘You have been doing it all along, Alma, and fairly well, too. What is the trouble now?’ ‘ Oh, it used to be all right. There wasn’t so much work. I used to get done. Now it’s all" day, all day, morning to night. I don’t get a chance to sit down. You better get a stronger girl than me. I can’t keep it up. I ain’t strong enough.’- The girl began to sob hysterically. ‘I thought all along I’ll do my best and maybe things get better. But it don’t. The family’s bigger and always extra people, and now Mrs. /Keegan—’ . ■ ‘Ah!’ thought Mrs. Whitney. She makes double my work at mealtimes ! ’ the girl cried, her eyes flashing with comical pathos about her reddened nose. ‘Second table now And catch

her helping! She wouldn’t even bring in her own dishes. I never get through in the evening any more. And the washings! Four days this week I’ve been washing and ironing— ’ ‘Yes, Alma,] her mistress interposed, ‘ and an expert laundress would have done it in a day and a-half. That is your one shortcoming are very slow with the laundry work.’ The girl’s face stiffened, sullen and red. ‘You better get another girl quicker than I am.’ , Mrs. Whitney took up her pencil. ‘ When do you wish to leave, Alma?’

The girl started. When my month is up,’ she retorted. x

‘ Very well, Alma.’ . Mrs. Whitney was apparently engrossed with her papers. Alma stood hesitating. No npbraidings ? No pleadings ? Then, with a toss of the head, she marched from the room. When the undue rattle of pans indicated that Alma was vengefully circulating in the kitchen, her mistress dropped pencil and paper and leaned her chin upon her hand. That evening, when Mr. Whitney and his wife were comfortably toasting before the blazing open fir© which was one of the recompenses of suburban living, a pensive recurrent smile upon her face provoked his curiosity. ‘ My dear ?’ * , She looked at him comprehendingly. They had reached that stage of sympathetic matrimony in which ordinary thoughts and shades of feeling are mutually understood without definite speech, and the man and woman have become so satisfactorily adjusted to each other as seldom to strike a spark out of the ordinary/ ‘My dear said Mr. Whitney. ‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘I am amused at our menage. It isn’t amusing, but —’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘ We came out of town to live because we wanted a

) baby, and the country is good for babies so good that 1 y now we have two. There were only you and I when we came. Now there are you and I and Robert and baby Adelaide and Alma and Mrs. Keegan and Johnson— ’, , ‘ I hope you are not counting them all as our family,’ her husband interposed tranquilly. ‘Not as the family, exactly,’ she replied. ‘ I said it was our menage that amused me. It was you and I. Then you and I and Robert. So we needed Alma. That made our expenses heavier, and you had to devote more time to your work, consequently less to the place. So we added Johnson to look after the grounds and develop the garden to the extent of supplying the family and raising enough surplus to make a profit on his wages and decrease our cost of living and so forth. It hasn’t done anything of the kind, but no doubt it eventually will. And then it was you and I and Robert and Adelaidewith Alma and Johnson — and everyone working harder; so we added Mrs. Keegan to lighten our burdens. That is, I thought she would that Alma would never have to be called upon to bother with the children, and I should have time for other things. However, it seems She paused to poke a smouldering log into active flames. ‘lt seems that I continue to be very busy in my little household, because as my manual toil decreases, my responsibility of superintendance increases, and the more that increases the harder you have to work to make more money and Alma isn’t pleased, because if she has less to do for the children, she has more to do for Mrs. Keegan and— ’ ‘For mercy’s sake!’ Mr. Whitney exclaimed, bewildered. ‘Mary! What are you getting at?’ She leaned back, laughing. ‘ Nothing—only Alma gave notice to-day.’ There was a moment of dead silence. Then—‘After what you’ve done for that girl!’ Mr. Whitney remarked. ‘The incompetent piece of baggage that she was when she came to you ! Some woman offered her more money, eh I’m sorry you’ll have the struggle all over again.’ 1 Green girl or none for the suburbs,’ his wife commented cheerily. ‘ But I’m not going to struggle. I shan’t let her go.' ‘No? What have you promised her?’ * Nothing— yet—not while she’s on her high horse, you know. But she has reason for complaint. The work is much heavier than when it was you and I and Robert. I’m going to give her three dollars a month more, and get a laundress in twice a month.’ A line or two about the man’t mouth deepened. He looked into the fire, saying nothing. ‘ Yes, dear,’ she said, as though he had spoken. ‘lt is quite a menage that we are developing. Now it will be you and I and Robert and Adelaide Alma and Mrs. Keegan and Johnson and Mrs. McVay twice a month. Yes, I think I’ll have Mrs. McVay, to do the washing.’ Their talk subsided. He was revolving the situation in his mind, and he might as well have done so aloud, for she knew of what he was thinking. He lifted his head with a sigh that became a laugh. ‘We go deeper all the time,’ he said, ‘ and yet our income seems to gallop along and keep pace. I declare, sometimes I don’t know how we do it.’ Are wedo you suppose we can keep it up?’ There was a hint of anxiety in her tone. ‘ Our income doesn’t come out of a miraculous pitcher, you know. Are you sure we’ll come out all right?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ he answered easily. ‘Trust to luck; we’ll come out all right, Mary.’ They sat idly watching the fire, lulled by its savage fascination. Presently she asked, ‘ Shall I get the coat, Mortimer?’ ‘ H’m ? Yes. I wan’t you to have that. I’ve . / been promising you a fur coat ever since we’ve lived £ out here.’ No fault of yours, dear,’ she responded. ‘There’s always been some costly thing needed for the house or the babies.’ ‘ This time it is your turn,’ he said. What do you want? Persian lamb?’ ‘ No. Every woman in this select suburb gets, or

isn t happy until she gets, a Persian lamb. I want something different, perhaps moleskin.’ .*/ :'-i \ . ‘Very well. Get something different/ said Mr. Whitney gallantly. ‘ Get a, moleskin.’ And how many nights will you have to work to pay for it?’ Oh, three or four. I’m a high-priced man, you know. How much is moleskin?’ You re a dear,’ said his wife, kissing him. ‘ I’m tired out and I’m going to bed.’ ‘ I’ll wait here a while,’ he said. She left him, and with the rhythm of her departing footsteps a refrain formed itself in his mind. * More work, to make more money, to spend more money, to need more money. More work, to make more money,’ and so on. -

It was near the first of the next month that Mortimer Whitney began to wear an air of concern. One day he asked his wife if the coat had been ordered, nodding carelessly when she said it had. Another time he inquired whether certain bills had been paid. It was not until he ventured a jesting suggestion that she might have saved up a secret reserve fund from her housekeeping allowance that she scented alarm. ‘ Why, Mortimer !’ she exclaimed, ‘ I’ve never been able to put a dollar aside,. No matter how I calculate, I. never come out with quite money enough to pay everything.’ v; Of course not,’ he said. He had heard of wives who had surprised their husbands by such achievement and had wondered if by any possible chance she might. She faced him soberly. ‘ Tell me,’ she said. ‘ Are we short of funds?’ ;.-r It was a relief to unburden his mind. They were short, alarmingly short., A fee of nearly one thousand dollars that he had counted upon to square up all of the extras and meet the interest on the mortgage was not going to be paid, because the debtor had suddenly declared himself insolvent. He had counted upon it, and they were in a predicament. : ‘Why, Mortimer!’ she gasped. ‘To think of such a thing happening! Who could have expected it? How I wish,’ she cried, acutely miserable— ‘ How I wish I had never ordered that coat!’

‘ How much for the moleskin?’ he asked. ‘ Chinchilla ! I didn’t get moleskin. Two hundred and eighty dollars.’ ‘Buy it from Roberts?’ ‘ Yes, I might have saved a little at a regular fur shop, but our account Besides, they’re reliable, and that’s most important in buying fur.’ ‘ How much do you suppose the rest of our account with them will amount to this month ?’ ‘ Not more than forty dollars.’ , * That’s three hundred and twenty, four hundred interest due, and eighty for coal, our annual fifty to the church, seventy-five club dues, seventy dollars taxes nearly past due. There’s a thousand dollars, just as I figured, I’ve been depending upon that payment.’ And what are you going to do now?’ she asked. His eyes met hers desperately. ‘I don’t know.’ Far into the night they figured, though in the first five minutes results were clear. They owed every one. They could keep abreast of current living expense, but they could not pay off the accumulated ‘ extras,’ or the interest. They had sufficient income to look forward to, but after paying housekeeping bills about due and the help, they would have less than one hundred dollars in cash and pressing indebtedness of twelve times that sum.

Mortimer,’ she said, aghast, glancing about their surroundings, ‘ who would think, to look at this house and its furnishings and you and me, that we haven’t a dollar to our name!’ ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if a good many suspected,’ he said gloomily. ‘ If I could stave it off for a few more months,’ he went on, ‘I can get thirty to sixty days, but we can’t save a thousand in that time. It all conies, Mary, from living up to our income. We have never denied , ourselves to get money ahead.’ ‘We haven’t indulged ourselves particularly,’ she

answered with a touch of resentment. ‘ The coat is i the only real luxury I’ve had. You’ve refused to get . a little runabout, although nearly every one we know has one—people no better oh than we.’ ‘ I mean denying ourselves what we think necessi- . ties/ he replied quietly, ‘ That is the way to get rich. Our scale of living really is not commensurate with our pocketbook. It would be justified if we had any reserve for emergencies. But we’ve spent as we’ve made, with immense faith in the future—and here we are.’ For a moment she said nothing. Then, ‘lf we could only start over.’ And presently, * They say that most successful men have been through the bankruptcy court once in their time.’ ‘ That is not true. And what truth it contains refers to their business. Decent men don’t go into bankruptcy because of dressmakers’ and grocers’ bills.’ She shrank a little. We might be worse off, I suppose. I’ve heard Mr. Elroy say that when he was forty he was ruined; hadn’t car fare. Now look at him.’ He drew a long breath. * Mary,’ he said solemnly, * I believe it would be easier to be without car fare—“busted,” no job, no debts, a clean start to-morrow, than to disentangle ourselves from the mess of obligations we’re in.’ , could live in a little flat where I could do the work, with a laundress in once a week, no servants, no debts, on menage—think of the money we could save ! Think of it! And then when we had a fat little bank account ‘No use thinking of it. It seems we aren’t that kind. In fact, we’ve always despised thrift, Mary; considered it mean. I’ll borrow some money.’ On your life insurance?’ . He laughed. ‘ That would bring about ninety dollars. No. Somewhere else.’ ‘ You mustn’t,’ she said in a subdued voice. ‘I must,’ he replied. He arranged the loan at outrageous interest, exchanging an army of small annoying debts for one debt large and oppressive. ‘ We will economize and pay this off at the earliest moment,’ his wife said enthusiastically. ‘ Let’s not run a penny behind, but pay cash for everything, and without old accounts to pay up— we’re sure to save!’ , - Paying cash meant keeping no cash in hand. At the next accounting they had nothing ahead, and drew on the small bank balance in order to pay Alma. The experience was disconcerting. Before long, in spite of ■ zealous efforts towards economy, they were again in arrears. Interestor —was a devouring monster. They began to feel that they ran a losing race. *My luck seems to have turned,’ said he. ‘I can’t make an extra hundred anywhere.’ She concluded to let Mrs. Keegan go. But Mrs. Keegan’s dismissal was only a sop to Cerberus. ‘lt’s our scale,’ they told each other. ‘We’ll have to alter our scale of living until the tide turns.’ The scale, however, was obstinate while conditions remained as they were. They felt enmeshed, and when they thought about it, frantic. Mrs. Whitney was pathetically debating whether it would be more profitable for her to seek some kind of employment or to keep a pair of paying guests,’ and which might be managed with less odium, when from the most unexpected quarter deliverance appeared in the form of a legacy from an almost forgotten aunt who had cherished a fond memory of Mrs. Whitney’s girlhood. A little notice of the bequest found its way into the local newspapers* and Mr. and Mrs. Whitney became at once and thereafter recipients of suggestions for disposing of it. Everything was suggested, more or less forcefullybenevolences, personal and public, , safety vaults, trust companies, various extravagances '' baited with flattery, reputable and disreputable investments. _ After a while they decided for themselves by promising five hundred dollars to the Associated Chanties, preparing for a European tour, and ordering -a modest motor-car. 5

. On the day when the car was brought out for a trial spin, with Mr. Bailey, the manufacturer’s agent, and their friend, acting; as chauffeur, at the hour at which they returned from the spin, refreshed and pleased as children with a new toy, they received sudden advice that, to 'the surprise of the executors, payment of the legacy must be deferred, as certain unconsidered persons who thought themselves entitled to benefit were preparing to contest the will. Mr. and Mrs. Whitney read the message together, looked at each other with frightened eyes, and burst into laughter. ‘That’s a good little machine, Bailey,’ he cried excitedly. ‘I like it. Let’s take her out for another run.’

When they reached home, Mrs. Whitney threw' herself upon a couch, exhausted. Her new motorbonnet crumpled under her head. Her husband collapsed into a padded chair, and they sat regarding each other abjectly. After a long while, he said: .‘You know there is something the matter with us. Mary—or with me. People who are absolutely unable to learn a lesson have a screw loose. Perhaps we’ll learn now.’ She wept. What is to become of us? I don’t know how much we owe now. Shall we go to gaol ‘No such luck. We shall be driven to haunt the streets, our little ones howling hand in hand, shelterless.’

‘ How can you jest at such a time?’ ‘ You are. You ought to be ashamed. Now is the time for action. What are we going to do?’ They eyed each other gravely. " " ‘ We’ll cancel the passage, of course.’ ' That was one clear step. They began to be rational. ‘Next?’ - . :/■

‘Try to sell the house. It may take some time.’ Her lip quivered. ‘I hate to lose our home—don’t you?’ . ■ •" this.’ v • ■ " ■ " ‘ It is my fault that we - began such extravagance! Oh, dear ! We’d have paid off the mortgage some time, wouldn’t we?’

‘ I doubt it,’ he replied. *At the rate we were going, perhaps in forty years.’ He reflected. ‘ I must try to get rid of the place before they foreclose.’ ‘ Are they likely to do that?’ ‘ Extremely.’ . She shivered. ‘Mortimer, how much do we owe ?’ He groaned. ‘Oh, spare the calculation.’ ‘I must know.’ ‘Eight thousand on the mortgage, fifteen hundred that I borrowed, a hundred and fifty dollars interest on that, twenty-five hundred for the carthey ■ may take that —five hundred you promised the Charities, a couple of hundred to Roberts, about four hundred household accounts— ’

t With a shriek she clapped her hands over her ears. | Never mind about any more.’ She buried her face in her arms.

At the sight of her dejection his fighting spirit r°se. ( He came to her and gathered her into his arms. Don t cry, Mary,’ he said. ‘We do seem to be snowed under, but we’ll tunnel out. I’ve been an incompetent, easy-going, bedazzled idiot. I don’t blame you for being discouraged. But don’t cry. We’re so poor now that we have to turn over a new leaf. It’s the best thing for us. We’re young. We’ll pull through.’ 1 At his words she cried harder, and he strove to comfort her. When she raised her head, she answered tremulously that they had a whole book full of leaves to turn over, and where were they to begin? ‘On an entirely new basis. We’ll sell our house and pay our debts and live as poor people should. No more pretensions, no more gambling with fortune. It ™ff n be easy at first, dear,’ he said, kissing her. We 11 not have— many good times.’ . ‘Perhaps we’ll have better times,’ she said Then with hands upon his shoulders she told of the idea that had come to her.

‘ We’ve said how differently we would do if we could start over. Here is our opportunity. We’ll pretend nothing has happened. We’ll pretend to be going away as we planned. We’ll close the house, and I’ll tell the servants that our absence will be indefinite, so they’d better look for new places. And what we’ll really do is this: Find that little flat we’ve spoken of, the cheapest, nicest little flat in some respectable suburb, and we’ll live on a third of your income. We won’t have to sell our house. By and by we’ll rent it. None of the people here will know where we are ’

‘ Are you planning to disappear from our friends ‘ Not from our friends. They won’t care where we live. As a matter of fact, there are not many of them. But from society and the Country Club set—you know. And by and by she grew enthusiastic—- ‘ the rent of the house will be paying off the mortgage ! We’ll be saving nearly all that you make ! We’ll make thousands „

‘ Mary ! Mary ! ’ ‘ I know I’m exaggerating.—a little, not much. We can pay all our debts but the mortgage within two years.’

‘l’m afraid you’ll hate those two years, Mary.’ ‘ No,, indeed. We shall keep it up two years longer, until we have a balance. I shall be a miser. lam perishing for a savings bank account. I could sell my clothes— ’

To stop her excited talk he kissed her again, ‘And by and by,’ he said, ‘shall we come back?’ ‘Yes. When we really own something, we’ll take possession. And have it for the children, too.’ Rather upsetting, isn’t it, to think of owning everything that we call ours?’ ' Her eyes shone. ‘lt will be more than things, dear. We shall be owning our own souls.’