Chapter X: Herbert's Trial

"Stand by your conscience, your honour, your faith."

IT was a gala day in Westville. The people had gathered in crowds to attend the county fair. From "up the creek" and down the valley, from over the ridge and far up the mountain, from every nook and corner for miles around, they came in waggon-loads and car-loads. Fathers and mothers with troops of children came in family carry-alls; young men and maidens in carriages "just big enough for two," all out for a day's pleasuring.

To some of them, it was the one holiday of the year, to which they had looked forward for months. Many had brought the savings of the summer to spend in necessities or finery. Westville was full to overflowing. The fair grounds were full, the streets were full, the hotels and stores were full.

The speaker of the day announced to the few of the great crowd who could catch the words of wisdom which he poured out for a whole hour, that the "show was a success." And no doubt it was. Surely all the requisites were there—the products of farm and dairy, of orchard and garden, big squashes and overgrown pumpkins, golden butter and creamy cheese, luscious fruits and rare flowers, tidies and bed-quilts, wax fruit and feather flowers, the beautiful and the grotesque, marvels of skill, ingenuity, and patience. All trades and professions were represented; all grades of animals, from the high-bred pride of the dairy to the pet bantam chickens.

The balloon went up and out of sight of the wondering and admiring crowd. The "side shows," the steel-pen man, and the patent-rights man, and the ginger-bread and pop-corn boys, had each their share of patronage, and the merchants shared largely in the benefits of the occasion. Every clerk was at his post, with eyes and ears for half a dozen customers at once.

A showily and not very tastefully dressed girl stood at one of the counters in Mr. Wynn's store, looking over a box of nets for the hair.

"Are these the newest fashion?" she asked, holding up one of gay chenille, studded with glittering white beads.

Herbert Bradford was behind the counter, and he answered, frankly—

"No; these are not worn now. Very plain ones like this are the most stylish," and he held up a bit of fine netting that you might pack into a thimble. "But," he added, "we sell those very cheap if you like them."

"Oh, no!" quickly rejoined the girl. "If they are out of fashion, I am sure I don't want one, though the red one is powerful pretty," and she looked at it longingly; "but I want all my things right in the fashion."

Then she asked for other goods, and Herbert showed her the best styles, as he would, had it been Miss Mabel herself. Mr. Wynn was at the next counter, and watched the proceedings with disapproving glances. Finally dress silks were called for, and Herbert was about to open a drawer of new goods, when Mr. Wynn interfered.

"Excuse me, Herbert, but will you run up to the fourth story and tell Jenks to hasten, for customers are waiting? I will take your place while you are gone."

Herbert returned in time to hear his employer assuring the girl that the gay plaid silk which he had brought up from the depths of a drawer of old goods was "one of the most stylish patterns, very desirable, his own daughter had a dress nearly like it," (he should have added, "ten years ago"), "just the colours she ought to wear," and more of the same sort.

Herbert was astonished at what he heard, and more so when, after the customer had left with her gay dress-pattern, Mr. Wynn turned to him and said—

"Now, Herbert, when a customer like that comes in, it is the time to get off old goods. Those people that come from up the mountain know nothing about the styles, and we always depend upon selling our old stock out to that class of customers. That chenille net would have pleased the girl better and wore longer than the one she bought, and she would have taken it, if you had not been silly enough to tell her nobody wore them now."

"But she asked me if they were fashionable," said Herbert.

"Of course she did," returned Mr. Wynn. "They always ask such questions, and part of your business is to know how to answer them. We always have a great many of that class here upon holidays, and if you are shrewd, you may make large sales of goods desirable to be disposed of, and which will satisfy them quite as well as goods that are more constantly called for. You need not look so grave about it. Don't you see that we can sell these goods for less money, and often suit their tastes far better. And if they are satisfied, what is there wrong about it?"

Herbert made no reply, but the thought in his mind was, "I can't do it. I can't say a thing is so when it isn't."

A few days later, a similar circumstance occurred. Mr. Wynn was much displeased, and said, "I cannot allow this. If I have occasion to speak of the matter again, I shall feel obliged to ask your father to take you away."

Herbert had thought over the subject and prayed over it, and made his decision. "Mr. Wynn," he said, "I am sorry to displease you, but I think the only right way for me to do is to speak the truth, and I must do it, if I say anything."

Mr. Wynn was angry, but he was always calm and dignified; he said, quietly, "Very well; call things by whatever name you please. Your father placed you here to learn the business, but if you already know so much more than I do about the proper mode of conducting it, there is no necessity of your remaining here any longer. You are free to go at once. I will see your father this evening."

Poor Herbert! Discharged! Disgraced! He had not anticipated quite that. In resolving to do right, he had expected that God would stand by him and reward him for his faithfulness to the truth. He had asked God to show him the right way and to keep him from all evil as he walked therein. He had looked for deliverance in the hour of trial. Had God failed to hear?

He, too, had yet to learn something of God's ways of answering prayer. Mr. Bradford's office was two or three doors down the street from the store, and Herbert went at once to his father with his story, telling it in a straightforward style, without a word of exaggeration or blame. "Father, did I do right?" he asked.

Mr. Bradford hesitated. He was called an honest man; he called himself a Christian, and though less worldly-minded than Mr. Wynn, he had not Herbert's ardent love of truth, but he could not look in his boy's face and say that he preferred to have him retain his position at the expense of falsehood and trickery. When he spoke, it was with an embarrassed laugh.

"Well, Herbert, your idea about it is well enough, I suppose, but if I were a poor man, and you were depending upon your position for your bread, I should say you were rather over-nice. You will have trouble to find another place after being turned away from the largest store in town."

"I don't know as I want another place; I don't care about learning the business, if lying belongs to it," said Herbert, with some excitement.

"Tut! Tut! Boy, you mustn't be squeamish. There is considerable in the art of putting things." After a pause, he continued, "You know, Herbert, that I am not anxious about the matter. It was your own choice; I should much prefer to have you come into the office here."

As for Mr. Wynn, he was more disturbed by the event than he cared to own. He had been pleased with Herbert in most respects, and had resolved upon promoting him as fast as practicable, with a view to giving him a permanent position in the store.

"Queer, isn't it, that a fellow would spoil his prospects by such a bit of nonsense?" he said that day at dinner time. "I suspect, Mabel, it is some of your work."

"What, father?"

"Why, that boy Herbert thinks he knows all about the principles of business, and in carrying out his theories has forfeited his place, that is all."

"O father!" said Mabel, "Have you discharged him?"

"Well, yes. I tell you, Mabel, this mixing all sorts of fanciful ideas up with the matter of earning one's bread, won't answer. Herbert will find that success don't run in the same track with his sentimental religious notions. Business is one thing and religion is another."

"I confess that such seems to be the prevalent opinion," said Mabel, "but I—well, I like to see people carry their religion with them, not lay it upon the shelf. Our faith is given us to help over hard places, and if one does not keep it about him continually, it is pretty sure to be out of call when most needed. As for Herbert, if I have taught him this, I have not quite failed in my work."

"I supposed you were at the bottom of it, but I did not expect you to own it quite so readily," replied Mr. Wynn, with unusual warmth. "I don't think I shall be in a hurry to take another boy from your class."

"Well, father," responded Mabel, "all I can say is, that I have simply tried to show them what the life and teachings of Christ mean; and if Herbert has found anything required of him that conflicts with his understanding of the spirit of the gospels, you cannot wonder that he should be unwilling to conform to the requirements of the business."

"All a notion! All a notion! No need of being so strict. Besides, these people who are so over-nice, sometimes find that they have smutted their fingers in spite of their carefulness. And I can tell you that Master Herbert will find that such places are not vacant every day. He will have to drop some of his whims before he gets very high up in the world."

Mabel said softly,—

"'His delight is in the law of the Lord; and whatsoever he doeth
shall prosper.'"

"Yes, yes! You quote Bible, but I quote facts," said Mr. Wynn.

"And don't you think that the facts will prove the Bible true."

"Of course the Bible is true, child, but not to be taken literally. Now look at old Jackson over there at the distillery. He hasn't much regard for Bible rules. I suspect that your nice distinctions between right and wrong would be quite too fine for his dull vision; but it looks very much as though the work of his hands was prospered; now don't it, Mabel?"

"That depends on what you call prosperity," replied Mabel. "I don't suppose that good Mr. Frink, old and poor as he is, would change places with Mr. Jackson. It was only the other day that, speaking of the abundance of work that had come in, he said, 'The Lord Lath dealt bountifully with me, Miss Mabel.' But I suppose that if things ended with this world, we might sometimes conclude that the wicked had the best of it. But 'riches profit not in the day of wrath.'

"Things don't come out quite straight," she continued; "but I can't help thinking that the Lord does repay, even in this life, those who delight to do him honour."

"Well, my dear, your theories are all very fine; but if you were a business man, you would find that a little coarse, rugged common sense mixes in very well in the concerns of this life."

"And is this life all?" asked Mabel.

Mr. Wynn had left the table, and at the last question, he said, with a forced laugh, something about a "woman's last word," and bowed himself out politely as ever; but, if the truth was told, he was slightly dissatisfied with himself, with Mabel, with the world generally, and especially with boys.

I suspect that he wished with all his heart that Herbert was back again in his place; for of course, he knew that the boy who braved his displeasure for the sake of the right as he saw it (that was the way Mr. Wynn put it) would make a trusty clerk. Besides, they were short of help, and now he must look-out for a new boy. What a bother these strict notions were! And what a nuisance such a tender conscience must be!

For his own part, Mr. Wynn was usually very well satisfied with his religion. It served him well as to reputation, it answered for Sundays, and, no doubt, would do for a dying day. He was willing to take the benefits of it; but as for personal work for the Master—why, that was for the ministers and deacons and women; only he couldn't see that there was any need of his daughter's enlisting in the cause.

I said he was willing to take the benefits. Of real personal religious experience, he knew very little. Once—a long time ago—he lived for a few months a different life—a life that now seemed to him like a dream. The spirit of worldliness had soon taken possession of his heart, and, gradually smothering the Christian graces that were springing up, now reigned supreme.