University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.
A CLERK'S TRIALS.

Harry Davis had a much harder struggle than
appeared by his letter to his mother, in refusing
Mrs. Dawson's gift of the fifteen dollars. It was accompanied
by a note, in which, with the most delicate
kindness, she urged its acceptance. Harry was to enter
the shop the next day, a stranger to its modes of
business, under a master who had not made, to say the
least of it, a favorable impression on him, — with new
associates, who too often look with a critical eye on
a new-comer. To all this was to be added the disadvantage
of appearing in a garb that had already
excited a demonstration of displeasure from Holson
and sinister looks from his clerks. If it be considered
what the temptations are to dress in a city under

ordinary circumstances, and how great a majority of
men and women, young and old, yield to them, Harry's
perseverance in his resolution must be allowed to
border on heroism. It must be confessed that he rose
even earlier than usual the next morning; that he
took extraordinary pains in polishing his boots; that
he arranged his hair most carefully; and (he can afford
to have this little weakness told) that he tied and retied,
a half dozen times, his plaid cotton neckcloth, and at
last turned away from his three-inch glass, saying,
with a sigh, “Hang it! I cannot make it set like
those fellows'! There's no use in trying.”

Peace and Plenty were not larks in the morning;
but, being aware that Harry's duty was to open the
shop, and that he must be there at an early hour,
they kindly prepared his breakfast over night; and,
though he protested he wanted nothing more than bread
and a glass of water, he found then, and from that
time henceforth, prepared neatly, on a little waiter,
bread, butter, and a bit of cold meat. Our motherly
maidens said they did not “hold to setting a growing
boy to work on bread and water.”

We pass over the few first weeks of Harry's
novitiate, and will make extracts from his letters, which
will best tell his experience. We shall be compelled
to intersperse the extracts with a few notes, as
Harry did not choose to communicate to his mother
all the discomforts of his situation.

After having been a month at work, “I am beginning,”
he says, “to feel more easy in the harness,
dear mother. If it yet galls in some places, there are
others that have already become callous, and do not
feel it. Eugene Nevis was the youngest clerk, when I
came in, and I became, in his place, prince of the
lamps and knight of the broom. Eugene is a gentleman's
son, and a real gentleman in his spirit;
well-bred and kind-hearted. From the first, he has
treated me as if I were his equal in every way.
He even said, the first time I trimmed the lamps
and swept the shop, `I feel how much you have
the advantage of me, by knowing how to do these
things. When I began sweeping, I blistered my hands;
and I had a regular scolding every day from Holson
and the head clerks. And, as to the lamps, I daubed

them, and spilled the oil, and my poor father had
to pay Holson twenty dollars for the damage I occasioned
the goods. I don't believe it amounted to
that, but Holson is a skin-flint every way.' Dear
mother, I thank you for every thing you taught me.
I find that no knowledge, be it even so humble as
how to fill a lamp well, comes amiss. Little did I
think, when I swept the rooms for you every day while
you were nursing Annie through her long fever, that
I was studying for a New York clerkship. The clerks,
for the most part, were pleased to find a clean shop
and bright lamps, and they treated me more civilly
than, by all accounts, they usually do new-comers.
One, to be sure, mean fellow asked me where I last
served as chambermaid, and another called me `Betty,'
and so on; but I had nerved myself to bear it, and
when they saw that I was tolerably manly, and no
`Betty,' they changed their tone. There are two or
three among them (we have twelve clerks) whom I do not
at all like; they are ostentatious and mean, ignorant
and arrogant. They have precious little instruction
from books, and not one tithe of the knowledge which
poor Clapham got from an ever wide-awake observation
of nature. Country life for me, mother. Mr. Edward
Rice is our head clerk. He wears a gold chain and
satin waistcoat, and so on, and has a very genteel air,
which Mr. Holson thinks attracts customers; underbred
ones I rather think it does; but the coarse-grained
wood shows through the high varnish. The gold chain
notwithstanding, Mr. Edward refused yesterday to subscribe
a sixpence for a sick clerk whom Holson had
turned off. I doubt if he had a sixpence. When I
put down half a dollar, he raised his eyebrows till
I thought they would roll over the other side, and
he said, `Flush for a freshman! Straws show which
way the wind blows.' I knew he meant to intimate
a suspicion against me. I felt hot. I did not speak,
but I looked him steadily in the eye; his fell, and
I walked off to my business, satisfied that he felt
hotter than I. But I like even him, I like them all,
better than Holson himself.

“I have told you, my dear mother, that I did not
like Holson. I like him less and less every day. Kind

Mrs. Dawson has been blinded by his intensely obliging
manner to customers. If she could see behind the
scenes, she would be disgusted with his selfishness,
his rapacity, his ill-temper, and tyranny. To me, his
sycophancy to his customers, and his mean ways, are
most revolting — sometimes ludicrous. If a lady ask
for pink silk, and he has not it, he tries to persuade her
that red is pink, or that cherry is more fashionable
than pink, or crimson richer, or scarlet more becoming;
and the worst of it is, he does persuade half the
women. Yesterday he was outwitted. A lady was
looking at the silks. She fixed her attention on one.
Holson, who is very quick at detecting a lady's fancies,
thought it was a sure nibble, as poor Clapham used to
say; and, as usual, he set to work to obviate whatever
objections she might raise against it. I must say,
ladies are pretty ingenious at this. `Quite a charming
thing that,' he said; `just opened. I bought the
only case of these silks in this city.' `I saw the
same pattern at Beck's,' said the lady, dryly. `Ah,
indeed! did you? Possibly Mr. Beck imports.' He
tried another bait, often successful. `I sold a dress
off this to Miss Liston.' `Indeed!' exclaimed the lady;
`but what Miss Liston?' `Really, I don't quite know.'
`Then I cannot buy it, and run the dreadful risk of
its being Miss Liston, the grocer's daughter, and not
Miss Liston of the Fifth Avenue. In short, Mr. Holson,
I prefer to be a leader, and not a follower.'

“`Ah — indeed — very good!' said the fellow, with
one of his odious convulsive little titters. `Upon my
word, I think this piece has not been cut, after all.
Rice, it was quite a different thing Miss Liston bought?'
`Quite,' said Rice, and Miss Liston was dismissed.
`I was looking for a fatigue dress,' said the lady,
still hovering over the same piece of silk. `Just the
thing, then, madam; you see it is dust-color, adapted
for riding or walking.' `It must be suitable for an
evening dress,' persisted the lady. `Exactly, madam.
A change of ribbons and a lace cape — we have loves
just opened — makes it an evening dress at once.'

“`I was looking for a summer silk —'

“`Just the thing, ma'am.'

“`But,' she said, chopping round again, `I always
buy a silk for wear.'

“`Of course, ma'am, of course. You see this is
quite solid.'

“`How do you think it will do for travelling, Mr.
Holson?' `Admirably; the thing. A mantilla over it.
— we have them at all prices — makes it quiet at once!'

“Still the lady did not come to the desired point,
and Holson, hardly concealing his impatience, said,
`What objection can you make to it, ma'am?'

“`None in the world,' she replied, coolly turning
on her heel, and walking out of the shop, `but that
it does not suit my fancy!'

“It was not very dignified for a lady to play at
his own game with Holson; but, I confess, I was
pleased to see him beaten, and I betrayed my satisfaction
by a smile. Holson saw it. I was standing
at his elbow; and he looked like a thunder-cloud,
and he has been more testy to me than usual ever
since.”

“Yesterday, an intelligent looking gentleman came
into the shop, and introduced himself to Holson as
one of the trustees of the Mercantile Library. He said,

looking round upon us, that he had taken advantage
of a rainy day, when he believed he should not interrupt
us, to call and solicit our subscriptions, or
rather to offer us an opportunity to subscribe to the
`Mercantile Library Association.' He presumed most
of the young men in so prosperous an establishment
as Mr. Holson's were acquainted with the institution;
but those that were not, he would inform that it
comprised a good library, carefully selected, and a
reading-room warmed and lighted, to which any clerk
could obtain access every evening by paying an initiation
fee of one dollar, and two dollars annual subscription.
This also entitles him to draw a book from the
library every week. He then went on to say to
Holson, that of course every gentleman at the head
of such an establishment as his, must feel a deep responsibility
for the young men in his employment,
and under his guardianship; that he must feel painfully
anxious to shield them from the temptations
incident to idle hours in a large city; and to provide
for them innocent and profitable occupation.
`The retail shop,' he said, `was often the threshold
to a high commercial position, and it was very important
to the young men to be furnishing their
minds with the knowledge befitting an honorable
station; that the time had gone, or was going by,
when merchants and traders were looked down upon
by an idle class; that our merchants were our princes,
and they should show the world what stuff princes
should be made of. He said that every American
lad should know what was requisite to make a man
a man; fine clothes were not; fine friends were not;
but probity and a well-informed mind were. The
first every merchant would be careful to inculcate
for his own sake, by precept and example, (mercy,
mother! he did not know Holson,) and to promote
the last, the Mercantile Library had been instituted.
He hoped the young men would be as eager to
subscribe as he was desirous to have them.' He
first presented his paper to poor Deacon Carey, as the
boys call our book-keeper — a thin, pale, and man,
both bald and gray. He shook his head, and declined;
but said, respectfully, `I have neither money
nor time, sir; if I had I would subscribe, if it were
only for the sake of my lame son.' The stranger
bowed, and passed on to Mr. Rice. Rice shrugged
his shoulders, and said books were so cheap it was
not worth his while. `But,' urged the stranger, `you
will have the advantage of a reading-room, open,
lighted, and warmed till ten o'clock in the evening.'

“`A gay place!' said Rice, with a contemptuous
curl of his lip. I never saw a calmer tempered man
than this gentleman; he did not seem in the least nettled.
Without paying the slightest attention to Rice's
sneer, he said, `There is a greater variety of reading,
and better selected, in the library than you will find
in the cheap prints; and besides, these cheap prints are
a tremendous expense to your eyes.' Rice shrugged
his shoulders and shook his head, and Holson said,
`Pass on, sir, if you please; pass on. The boys are
wasting time.' Wasting time! Mother, I believe Holson
thinks time was given to spend in making money,
and for nothing else. As it proved, the gentleman's
good arguments, though lost on Rice, had their effect
on the rest. Six out of the twelve set down their
names; I among the six. Now, mother, don't you

and Annie stare as did Holson and Edward Rice.
Let Annie cast up my account.

     

“Travelling expenses,	50
“Subscription to the sick clerk,	50
“Initiation fee,	1 00

“I could afford to subscribe. I have three dollars
remaining of my five. I hope to earn something over
and above my salary before the year is out; but if
I do not, I have enough in reserve to pay my library
fees, and one dollar for extras. O, one thing I must
not forget to tell you, it pleased me so much. I
signed last, and was at the desk, returning the pen to
Mr. Carey, when the gentleman said to him, `Put your
name down. I will see to the fees for this year at
least, and I dare say this young man' (looking at me)
`will take the trouble to draw out the books for your
lame boy.' Mr. Carey smiled, — the first smile I have
seen on his face since I have been in Holson's shop;
and he looked cheerful all day. It is pleasant for
those who have money to go round buying smiles
and cheerfulness for those whose fate is hard, like poor
Carey's. Don't you think so, mother?”

Harry had many vexations to endure, of which he
made no report to his mother. Those clerks, — at their
head Edward Rice, — who took airs on themselves, put
all odd jobs on Harry, and he was sometimes kept at
the shop till nine, ten, and eleven o'clock, though the
nominal hour of closing it was eight. He was patient,
because he was manly, and determined not to fret
about trifles. Trifles he called them; but they deprived
him of his greatest enjoyment — his reading, and
his pleasant social hours at his happy home. A much
more serious trouble to him was the continual displeasure
and fault-finding of Holson. “It's all your fault,”
he said, “Davis, that Eugene Nevis has left the shop.
Not that I care for the rascal; I can get twenty better
clerks in his place; but it's your (we omit the word
with which he graced it) — country notions. His
relations were good customers, and now they have all
quit, for he has told his own story.”

Nevis did tell his own story, which was, that, stimulated
by Harry Davis's example, he had absolutely
refused to make the false representations which Holson
insisted on as the common course of business.

That common course was, to say to a lady, “You
had better buy this dress now, ma'am; it's the last we
have of it;” when, perhaps, there were half a dozen
pieces of the same on the shelf; or, “I sold this
muslin yesterday for five shillings, which I now offer
to you for four.” “You will not find another velvet so
cheap as this in New York,” &c., &c.; and uniformly
to assure the buyers that every article was offered
below cost. A lady was one day looking at an expensive
muslin, and said to Harry, “I doubt this
color. Do you know if it washes?”

“No, it does not, ma'am.”

She looked surprised at his unexpected frankness,
and smiled.

“Thank you,” she said, and left the shop. Holson
was engaged with a customer, but Harry perceived
that he overheard and oversaw the transaction. He
took the first opportunity of abusing Harry outrageously.
He would have struck him, if he had dared. Soon
after, another customer came, to whom Holson himself
showed the same muslin. She asked the same
troublesome question. “O, I'll warrant it,” said Holson.

Thereupon the lady took it, and, on the faith
of Mr. Holson's warranty, brought it back the next
day. Holson said, “Of course he would take it back;
but the lady must take something else out of his
shop. She had no occasion for any thing else. She
wanted nothing but a muslin gown. There was no
redress without more trouble than it was worth, and
she retained the fading warranted muslin.