University of Virginia Library

THE TWO CLERKS.

BY C. D. COLESWORTHY.

“When I get through with Haler, I shall set up in business
for myself; and I tell you what, Harry, I shall make money
hand over fist.”

“So you may think, Charles, but like hundreds of others,
you will be disappointed.”

“Not exactly. I know what I shall do, and I will succeed
admirably. I have been somewhat observing, and noticed what
business produces the greatest profit with the least capital, and
how those men manage who become rich.”

“What business do you contemplate entering upon, whe
you become of age?”

“That's a secret yet; but I know.”

“All I have to say is, that you will be disppointed. If I
can make a good living and lay by a little every year I shall be
satisfied.”

“A little won't satisfy me, that I assure you. I intend
to become rich.”

Henry Welby was the son of a poor widow. His mother
had early instilled into his mind judicious and valuable precepts.
From childhood he was taught that a good name and spotless
character were invaluable to an individual—more precious than
gold. A strict regard for truth, and a tender sympathy for the
unfortunate and suffering, had ever characterized the boy.
Mrs. Welby had the satisfaction of seeing her son practise upon
the instructions he had received from his mother. No oath polluted
his lips—no falsehood marred his character, and no vice
leprosied his heart. Kind and generous, faithful and industrious,
he won the encomiums of his neighbors, and when of a
suitable age, was solicited by Mr. Haler, a wholesale grocer, to
enter his store.

Charles Ingalls was the reverse of Henry in almost everything.
He was brought up by indulgent parents, who were in
easy circumstances, and suffered too often to follow the bent of
his inclination without being checked. His father did not believe
it to be his duty to severely correct his son, when guilty
of a wrong act, and would often suffer him to pursue his own
course without a word of advice. The parents of Charles were
of that class who look more to the appearance than at the
heart. If a boy conducts well in company, is particular in his
dress, and is constantly aping the foolish fashions of the day,
with such all is well: the lad must make a smart and active
man. Thus Charles was suffered to grow up, following the
bent of his perverse nature, till he was of a suitable age to
do something towards his own support. His father was anxious
to put him in a lawyer's office, deeming the profession of the
law the height of respectability. No opportunity presenting,
he finally secured a place for his boy at the store of Mr. Haler.

The wholesale merchant was a gentleman of middle age,
who did an extensive business, and was reputed to be rich.
He had one or two older clerks in his employ, when Henry and
Charles entered his store. These lads generally lived on good
terms with each other; but occasionally a dispute would arise
between them on account of the overbearing disposition of
Charles. He was determined at times to have his own way, no
matter how much it interfered with his companions. But as
Henry was kind and yielding, and seldom manifested angry or
revengeful feelings, the lads on the whole lived on pleasant
terms.

The young men had been in the employ of Mr. Haler
several years, when the conversation at the beginning of our
story took place. They had often conversed on the business
they would pursue in after life, and while Henry insisted that
small gains and a safe business were to be preferred, his companion
declared that nothing would satisfy him but large profits
and an extensive trade. It was seldom that Charles spent an
evening at home with his parents, or at the house of his master.
In the summer season he would walk the streets with his companions,
engaged in idle conversation, while in winter he would
resort to some shop, where he passed his time in profitless
amusements, if not vicious pursuits. On the contrary, Henry
improved his leisure hours in reading and study. His evenings
were generally passed at home, reading some useful book or
paper, or in drawing or writing. His companions were chosen
from those who were industrious, and thought more of the improvement
of the mind and heart, than the decoration of person,
or the gratification of the appetite.

It was not unfrequently that Henry inquired of his companion,
on returning at night, where he had passed the evening.
“Oh, I have had a fine time,” would be his reply.

“Why don't you read more?” once said Henry to him.

“I don't love to read; and besides, I get but little time
you know.”

“You have as much time as I do, and in the course of a
few months past, I have read a dozen volumes, besides various
periodicals.”

“But you read evenings, while I am enjoying myself.”

“If you would take my advice, Charles—and I think it is
good advice, and in the end you will find it so—I would say,
don't go into the society of the idle and frivolous. There bad
habits are contracted which lead to everything that is bad.”

“No, Harry, you know nothing about it, If you could go
with us and enter into your sports, you would be happy.

“That is what I have no desire to do.”

All the persuasion of the virtuous youth could not produce
the desired effect. Charles spent his time in idleness and folly,
made a fine appearance in society, and took pride in his dress
and exterior deportment.

A few years passed, and the young men had completed
their clerkships. Welby, by the earnest solicitations of the
merchant, was persuaded to remain in his employ another year
for a specified salary, while Ingalls commenced business for himself.
The father of Charles had proposed, and now put a
capital in his son's hands to commence with. He engaged a
large store, and had it filled with groceries of the first quality,
not forgetting to parade his casks of rum, brandy, gin, &c. He
also erected a bar in his store for the retail of spirits. So here
was the secret of his money making. Day by day the shop of
Ingalls was crowded by purchasers and loafers—for the latter
tribe are the necessary result of a bar. Pass by his store at any
hour of the day, and you will hear the rattling of glasses and
decanters, and the impure conversation attendant upon such

business. If you have taken a look within, you would have
seen Charles or his clerk behind the counter, dealing out to the
miserable and poor as well as to the decent and well dressed,
what has not inappropriately been called “distilled damnation.”
Early and late was the shop open to visitors. Passing one day,
Henry entered the store, and inquired of his friend, “what success
he met with in his business.”

“I do finely,” said he.

“I regret,” said Henry, “that you have erected that bar—
because I believe it will have an injurious tendency.”

“I could not get along without it,” said Charles, “I realize
more profit from the sale of spirits than from all my other
business.”

“But only consider how much misery you are instrumental
of producing. Doubtless many a poor wife and mother is suffering,
because, for a little gain, you put the intoxicating glass to
the lips of the husband and father.”

“If I didn't sell to them somebody else would, and I should
lose the profit.”

“That you don't know, and if it were so, that is no excuse
for you.”

“I don't care, I will sell spirits so long as I can get purchasers.”

“You will regret it at some future day, I have no question.”

“But I shall sell, and it's nobody's business. I do wish our
community was rid of the confounded meddlers. I have a right
to dispose of what I please. This is a free country, and the first
man that insults me for selling liquor, I will order from my
shop.”

“Don't get angry, friend Ingalls, I am only speaking for
your good.”

“Well, I don't thank you for it. There is a set of men
about now-a-days, that do nothing but interfere with other
men's business. They are determined to compel us to give up
selling spirits; but their efforts shall be in vain. They talk
about prosecution and the like, thinking that we are fools
enough to pay attention to what they say and do. No, we
have more manliness about us.”

“But, friend, don't you think it would be for your interest
not to retail rum? You know there are a great many people in
this community, who look upon your business as not respectable,
and on that account will not enter your store to purchase
a single article. If you should relinquish the sale, or even
empty your casks into the street, I think it would be greatly for
your interest in the end—I am certain it will be so.”

“I know better than that. No inducement whatever would
prevail upon me now. Since so much has been said, I will
sell and risk the consequences.”

“I know you will regret it,” and just as he spoke, a half
dozen poor and miserable beings entered the shop and called
for spirit, and Henry left, grieving over the conduct of his
friend.

“In a year or two Ingalls had become attached to his
cups, and it was said that occasionally he was seen intoxicated.
However that may be, his business gradually fell off, and it was
with difficulty that he sustained himself day by day. He neglected
his shop, and idled away his time with unsteady companions,
spending money and contracting intemperate habits.
Thus inattentive to business, he soon failed and had to give up.
On settling with his creditors, Ingalls could pay little more than
twenty per cent.; the remainder had been sponged from him
by his companions, and squandered in vicious pursuits. After

idling about for five or six months, he started west in pursuit of
business.

Welby continued with Haler for one year. He had been
so faithful to his employer while a clerk, and had behaved with
so much propriety, that his master concluded to take him into
equal co-partnership. This was an honor entirely unexpected
to Henry, and the prospect was bright before him. Mr. Haler
had been doing an extensive business, and was now quite
wealthy. The responsibility of the concern was thrown upon
Henry, and no man was better qualified to sustain it. Diligent
and persevering, virtuons and honest, he had received the approbation
and respect of all who knew him. As a citizen and
neighbor Welby was of great service. He was one of the most
active members of the Temperance Society, and by his exertions
a large amount of good had been accomplished. He went
among the poor inebriates, and persuaded them to forsake their
intemperate habits, while he advised those who dealt in spirit to
relinquish the sale of it. He was a friend to virtue, and a benefactor
of the poor.

Welby had been in business but a few years, when he led
to the hymeneal altar the beautiful and accomplished daughter
of his partner, Mr. Haler. From early youth he had been
partial to Ellen. Her sweet disposition, her graceful manners,
and her industrious habits, had won his affections. Unlike multitudes
that surrounded her, she thought more of her heart
than her face, the improvement of the mind than the decoration
of her person; and would rather spend her time at work or in
study, than at the theatre or in pacing the streets. Two more
congenial spirits were seldom united. The marriage day was a
happy one to their friends and neighbors, as well as to themselves.
Everybody loved Ellen Haler and Henry Welby, and
now they received the smiles and good wishes of all, and many

a prayer was offered, that the bright morning of their days
might not be clouded with sorrow.

Several years passed and Welby continued to prosper
in business, while the influence he exerted around him was
healthy and salutary. About once a year he would leave his
native place and journey to the South—partly on business, and
partly for pleasure. One season he travelled as far as New
Orleans with his wife. One morning as they were passing
the street, they noticed a crowd gathered, and on inquiring the
cause or the difficulty, they learned that a poor fellow had been
canght, who few a nights before had broken into a store, and
robbed it of a considerable amount. While moving along, the
officer of justice appeared with the prisoner, and a single
glance revealed to Welby the countenance of his former companion,
Charles Ingalls.

“Can it be possible, Ellen, that this is Charles?” said he.

“I believe my heart it is,” said his wife; another look convinced
them.

His dress was very shabby—he bore the imprint of vice
and intemperance—but he was hurried on, and they lost sight
of him.

Henry had concluded to leave New Orleans on that day,
but the situation of his old friend induced him to remain, in the
hope that he should have an opportunity of seeing him. After
several inquiries, he learned the next day that Charles was in
jail, and thither he bent his steps—he was permitted to see the
prisoner—on entering the cell he found that he did not mistake
the man, worn and altered as he had become; but the thief did
not recognize Henry.

“My friend,” said Welby, “I am sorry to see you in this
condition, and would that I could be of some service to you.”

“O, sir,” said the prisoner, “intemperance has brought me

here. For the last five or six years I have been miserable. I
have suffered in body and mind more than I can express.”

“Have you no friends?”

“I had friends once, but I left them. I had parents, but I
have not seen or heard from them for several years. If I had
performed my duty—lived as I ought to live—I should never
have come to this.”

“Of what crime do you stand charged?”

“Sir—I—am a thief!” and the tears gushed from his
eyes. “I was in liquor and was persuaded to steal, by those
who have left me to suffer. Oh, that I had my life to live over
again! How different would be my course! Then if a friend
advised me, I would hearken to him.”

“I sympathize with you, and if it were in my power, I
would release you from prison, that you might be a better
man.”

“Sir, who may I call you. I have no found no one to
sympathize in my sorrow, and to speak a friendly word to me
since I left my native place. Who may I call you?”

“My name is Henry Welby.”

“Good heavens! my old friend and companion—in truth,
it is he. I know your voice—your looks,” and the poor fellow
could say no more for very joy.

After a few minutes, Charles related all that had befallen
him since he left Portland. In truth he had suffered by land
and by water. Often he was deprived of all the necessaries of
life, and yet he continued to drink, till he was over-persuaded
by a gang of villains to steal.

When Henry left the prison, he promised to exert himself
to the uttermost, to obtain the release of his intemperate, but,
as he now believed, penitent friend. After remaining in New
Orleans a week or more, he finally had the satisfaction of

taking Ingalls by the arm and leading him from the prison.
He was furnished with suitable clothing, and sufficient money
given him to pay his passage home. When he arrived, he
was taken as clerk into the store of Haler and Welby, where
for years he conducted himself with the utmost propriety. A
drop of spirits never again entered his lips, he became one of
the most efficient members of the Temperance Society, and is
now using his strongest endeavors to advance the glorious
cause. He was lately united to a worthy woman. The debt
he owes his friend, he often repeats, he cannot pay. “And
but for you,” he recently told him, I should now be a miserable
outcast—a vagabond and a curse.

Such is the influence of kindness! How glorious the results!
Ye who have embarked in the temperance cause, be
gentle and kind, persuade and entreat, and take by the hand
those who err, and you will accomplish an amount of good
that can only be rewarded in eternity.