The Shoemaker's Daughters CHAPTER 9.
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"Old Hardamer's getting as cross as a bear, lately," said Bill, on the afternoon of the day on which Hardamer had passed through his first shaving operation. "We'll have to check him again. It won't answer to let him have the upper hand of us; if we do, there'll be no living in the house with him."
"He mustn't talk to me again like he did a little while ago, I can tell him; or he'll get his own, pretty quick! I've no notion of it," responded Ike.
"He talked about giving me the stirrup yesterday," said Tom. "I would just like to see him try that game once; I'd show him how much more interesting it was when played by two, instead of one. Since he's started to going down hill, there's no living with him. It's snarl and grumble all the while."
"He's done one good thing, though," said Ike.
"What is that?"
"Why, he's set our beauties upstairs to work. If I didn't see Gertrude trying to make a shirt yesterday, I wish I may be shot! Millie says all three are at it, but none of them, except Genevieve, who is now the best of the bunch, knows much about it. Whenever anybody calls in, Gertrude and Genevra hide their work away, and then sit with their hands in their laps until the visitor has departed."
"It isn't possible, Ike, that they are such fools?"'
"How can you ask such a question, Tom? But Millie says, and I say so too, that they'll not hold out long. They are both too proud and too lazy to work."
"That's a fact!" said Bill, energetically.
"It's almost time we gave them another serenade. Suppose we amuse them a little tonight?" said Ike.
"Agreed!" responded his two companions, heartily; and that night, about twelve o'clock, the whole family were awakened by another full chorus of diabolical sounds. Instantly Hardamer seized his old musket, which had been loaded some time before pretty plentifully with small shot, and throwing open the window, blazed away right in the midst of them. All the young serenaders had a taste of the shot, but it happened, fortunately, that none received any wound of consequence, the little messengers of punishment only penetrating the flesh in unimportant parts of the body. It is needless to say that there was a sudden cessation of the music, and a silent scampering of the young rascals. Putting down his gun, Hardamer proceeded at once to the garret, and lo, there was no one there but little Jimmy.
"Where are the boys?" he asked, in a loud, quick voice.
"They're gone out, sir," replied the frightened boy.
"Gone out, where?"
"They went out of the window, sir."
"When?"
"About half an hour ago, sir." said Jimmy, trembling from head to foot, he scarcely knew why.
Hardamer turned on his heel, and went downstairs quickly, but returned in a minute with a cowhide in his hand. He did not wait long before the three boys came scrambling up the roof, smarting from the few small shot that had penetrated beneath the skin; and frightened, dreadfully, at the idea of being wounded. Ike jumped from the window sill to the floor first, and upon him was made the opening demonstration of his master's skill in using the cowhide. Heavily, and with rapidity, did the blows descend for the space of nearly a minute, by which time Bill and Tom were fairly at the scene of action. Ike had begun to recover a little from the surprise and confusion of the sudden attack, and, watching his opportunity, caught at the cowhide, and jerked it from his master's hand.
"Come on, boys!" he called out, "let's give the devil a taste of his own porridge." And flourishing the cowhide about his head, he brought it across the face of his master with tremendous force.
Quick as thought, Bill and Tom responded to the summons, and before Hardamer had recovered from the sudden attack, Bill struck him a heavy blow under the ear, with his fist, which brought him at full length upon the floor.
"Now slash it into him, Ike!" cried Bill, "and if he attempts to rise, I'll beat his brains out with this boot-jack!" picking up the article named, and brandishing it over the head of his master in a threatening manner.
Ike did not wait for a second invitation, but poured in the blows with the cowhide thick and fast.
But Hardamer was too much excited by this unexpected scene, to lay quietly upon the floor. Disregarding Bill's boot-jack, and not seeming to feel its force, as it descended upon his head, Hardamer sprang to his feet, and catching Ike by the collar, dealt him two or three tremendous blows with his fist, which, in turn, brought that individual to the floor.
A new thought now struck him, and retreating at once from the battle ground, he called in the aid of three watchmen, who proceeded, heavy staffs in hand, to the garret. Suspecting the design of Hardamer, the boys barricaded the door, after driving a nail over the latch, by bringing their bedsteads against it. But this only served to embarrass the watchmen a little, not to keep them out. They quickly forced the door.
"Touch me at your peril!" said Ike, as the three rebels crowded together at the one end of the room, armed in no very offensive manner; their several weapons consisting of a boot-jack, a broom handle, and a heavy, knotted cane.
"You'd better give in at once, my lads," said one of the watchmen, brandishing his heavy staff. "We're used to handling men." And so saying, he advanced upon them with his two associates. Each watchman singled out his prize, and made his capture with an ease and quickness, that showed him to be a perfect master of his trade.
That night our serenaders were quartered in the watch-house. On the next day, they were committed by a magistrate, and on the third day were tried before the City Court for anassault upon their master. Being indentured apprentices, and the assault proved, they were ordered ten lashes each by the court. Previous to this, however, a surgeon had examined their wounds, and removed about twenty small shot.
On the night after this flogging, the three boys bundled up their clothes, and leaving the house by the garret window, took a final leave of their master. In this act was consummated the evils of improper discipline.
Had Hardamer treated them, from the first, as he would have had his own children treated, and carefully watched over them with other than exclusively selfish feelings — he would never have found them opposing and insulting his authority, nor have been deserted by them at a time when he more than ever stood in need of their services; nor would he have been the cause of three stout lads, utterly unfit to govern themselves, breaking loose upon the world, to add, in all probability, to its annals of misery and crime.
Had he governed his own household aright, children and apprentices, the former would have been respected by the latter, and the latter kindly treated by the former. No such act as the mock serenade could, possibly, have occurred. But Hardamer started wrong from the beginning, and the evils inherent in his family government increased, until they were consummated in open insubordination.
The loss of his three boys, just at this time, was, to Hardamer, a serious matter. It required him to employ three more journeymen, at ten dollars a week each; thus, in his financially embarrassed condition, increasing his cash expenses about twenty dollars a week; for, taking the year round, it had not cost him, in the way he fed and clothed the three boys, over ten dollars weekly.
This additional cause of embarrassment, and consequent anxiety, tended to increase his despondency, and to irritate his feelings in a very great degree. Burdened with a large and helpless family, from whom he received no sympathy, he felt himself unequal to the task imposed upon him. All he could do to press sales and force collections, was of no avail in keeping him even, when the days on which his notes were due rolled around. Doing only a retail business, he rarely had a note of any consequence to offer for discount; and, therefore, whenever short of money, he had but one resource, and that was his friend Mr. Centum, who never failed him at the hour of extremity.
Six months rolled away, and during that time he had become more and more inextricably involved with his money-lending friend. Hardly a day passed that something was not required, either in taking up notes, renewing checks, or extending loans, and, in every case where either of the latter were effected, it was at a ruinous sacrifice; for the broker, in extending a previous loan for a new term of twenty or thirty days, beyond which he rarely went, always made it the excuse for taking an exorbitant interest, screening himself, too, behind some pretended, invisible, wealthy individual, who would receive nothing less.
During the first six months that Hardamer remained in the web of difficulties which the broker was weaving around him, and by which he was hindering his movements more and more every day, that individual succeeded in getting from, in unreasonable discounts, about five hundred dollars, and was, at the end of that time, bleeding him at the rate of from thirty to forty dollars weekly; and yet, at the same time, did not risk, in all, above fifteen hundred dollars, to secure which he had obtained a mortgage on Hardamer's house, worth, at least, with the ground, five or six thousand dollars.
Amid all these increasing difficulties, Hardamer found no sympathy in his family, except from Genevieve, who saw from his manner, that he had sore trials to contend with. What these really were, neither she nor the rest knew; but as her own heart had been deeply tried, she had learned to feel for others. Her father failed not to perceive the difference in her manner towards him, and her willingness to make herself useful; and gradually his feelings warmed towards her. As for Genevra and Gertrude, the more difficult it became to get money out of their father, to spend in all kinds of fashionable extravagances — the more importunate did they become, and the more insulting in their manner towards him.
Time had rolled on to past mid-winter, and during this mirthful season, these two young ladies had dashed away with as much show and extravagance as if their father had beenmade of money. Indeed, from the time it became known that he had met with a heavy loss, they had considered it as their true policy to dress more extravagantly than ever, in order to force people into the belief that they were still rich, and that their riches were inexhaustible. Hardamer, whose mind was greatly confused in relation to the true state of his business, imagining that it would yield him at least the usual income he had derived from it — felt in no degree inclined to deny his family any indulgence they had been used to. But the loss of a thousand dollars a year, from the desertion of his boys, and the abstracting of more than that sum to pay usurious interest — made a very material difference in the state of matters and things. And, by the end of the first six months of his downward career, he began to think seriously of retrenchment and reform.
For reasons, other than economical ones, he had insisted on his three oldest daughters doing all the sewing of the family; but Gertrude and Genevra had receded from that state of compulsory industry, and upon Genevieve had fallen the entire burden of the ordinary sewing. Of course, the young ladies' dresses were still made by the most fashionable and expensive dress-maker in the city.
In looking over his expense account one day, he was by no means satisfied with the large sums that were posted under the titles of "Dry Goods," "Millinery" and "Dress Making."
"This will never do!" he said to himself, closing the book with emphatic force. It so happened that there was to be a fashionable gathering at the Assembly Rooms during the next week, and Gertrude and Genevra had received invitations. It was to be a splendid affair, the last and most imposing of the winter series. Each of the girls had one or two danglers in tow, and as this was to be the last grand ball of the season, they were nervously anxious to accomplish something. Fully determined to eclipse even themselves, they made application, on the evening following the day on which their father had determined to reform them a little, for fifty dollars a-piece.
"I haven't got it to spare, just now," he replied, rather gruffly.
"But we must have it!" said Genevra.
"And please, why must you have it, Miss?" responded the father, sensibly irritated.
"Because there's to be a splendid ball next week, and neither of us has got anything fit to wear."
"Then you'll both have to stay at home."
"But, Pa," urged Gertrude, "we must go; I wouldn't stay away for the world."
"Well, go! Nobody wants to prevent you."
"Yes, but we must have something to go in!" responded Gertrude. "Neither of us has a ball dress fit to be seen in at such a place. All the dresses are to be new and splendid — and I, for one, have no notion of being thrown into the shadows."
"Then you'll both have to stay at home, let me inform you," said the father in a quick excited voice, "for not one dollar shall you have to waste on such tom-fooleries! I'm going to put a stop to these things! No later than yesterday, I had your extravagance thrown into my teeth, when I asked for a little time on one of your outrageous bills!"
Gertrude and Genevra raised their hands and eyes in astonishment; and in a few minutes pumped up a plentiful effusion of tears.
But Hardamer was triple armored against all such assaults.
"You needn't start any blubbering and crying here, my young ladies!" he said in a firmer and more determined voice. "Hereafter, and you may as well know it at once — you must not consider yourselves as a rich man's daughters, with money to waste. I've got my hands full and my heart full too, to get you something to eat and decent clothes to wear; and, with these, you will have to be content. So, you may just as well come down from your high notions. You have no business at this ball! It is no place for a poor man's daughters." So saying, the father abruptly left the room.
"Humph!" said Gertrude, drying her tears in a moment — "A poor man's daughters! Isn't that too bad? That's the first time I ever heard myself called a poor man's daughter, and I'd just like to hear anybody else say so to me! A poor man's daughter, indeed!"
"But what shall we do, Gertrude? Pa won't give us the money."
"We must have the ball dresses, that's certain," said Gertrude emphatically. "Why, I wouldn't miss going for the world, especially since Miss Stubbins was so cut up at the last ball, because my dress was more elegant than hers and said she'd eclipse me next time, if it cost her her life. Who's she but a tavern keeper's daughter? And to talk of eclipsing me!" And the accomplished Miss Gertrude Hardamer curled her lip disdainfully.
"But if Pa won't let us have the money, how are we to get the dresses?" asked Genevra.
"Why go and buy them at Martin & Morrison's and not say anything about it. The bill won't be sent in for three or four months."
"I wouldn't, exactly, like to do that," said Genevra.
"Nonsense! Haven't we been in the habit of having bills there? But what will you do?"
"That's what I can't say," replied Genevra, "I must go to this ball, and I haven't anything fit to be seen in. I want to make a dash at Mr. Appleton, the merchant, and if I don't get a new ball dress, I shall stand no chance."
"A new and splendid dress, something a little ahead of anything there," urged Gertrude, "will attract a host of admirers, and he will come in at once, in fear of a rival. You will then be off of Pa's hands, and can pay the bill yourself, before he comes to know anything about it. And even if that should not be convenient after you are married, he won't, of course, care anything about it, especially as the new dress will have secured so fine a fellow as Mr. Appleton for a husband."
"That's a new view of the case altogether," said Genevra, brightening up. "And I don't see how we can get on any other way. Pa's determined, that's certain."
Evil counsel prevailed, and Genevra joined her sister in the proposed plan of operations. On the next day they called at Martin & Morrison's, and there discovered a piece of rich, figured, blossom-colored satin, and some beautiful figured blonde veils.
"These will be grand!" whispered Gertrude to her sister. "This blonde over the blossom-colored satin, will make the most splendid dresses that can be imagined."
"Shall we get them both alike?" said Genevra.
"Of course; we'll attract the more attention," responded Gertrude.
"Shall I cut this piece of satin for you, ladies?" said the polite salesman. "It's the most beautiful thing in town. No other establishment in the city has the same pattern. Mr. Martin could only get one piece in New York; all the rest of the case having been sold to the retail trade of that city." — At the same time holding the piece of satin so as to let the light fall upon it to bring out clearly the rich figure.
"It is beautiful!" exclaimed Gertrude, lost in admiration.
"Beautiful!" responded Genevra.
"How much will you have, ladies?" urged the salesman.
"Shall we take it, Genevra?" whispered Gertrude.
"Of course," replied the sister. "Then we'll take thirty yards, sir," replied Gertrude, not once thinking, or indeed, caring for the price, which was five dollars a yard.
"Will you take some of this blonde?" continued the salesman, after he had measured off the thirty yards of satin.
"How much do you think it will take?" said Gertrude, turning to her sister.
"One for the body — two for the sleeves, and four for the skirt — seven for each. How many of this pattern have you?" she said, addressing the clerk.
"About fourteen," replied that accommodating gentleman, who had overheard her enumeration.
"Then we'll take them," said Gertrude.
"Anything else this morning, ladies?"
"Nothing more today. We shall need something else, and will call in during the week. Please send the satin and blonde veils to Mrs. Sartain's, in Liberty Street, and charge the bill to Mr. Hardamer."
"Certainly, Miss," responded the polite salesman, bowing low, and the young ladies departed.
"How much did you sell them, John?" asked Mr. Morrison, coming forward.
"Let me see," said the clerk, "Thirty yards of blossom-colored embroidered satin, at five dollars, is one hundred and fifty; and fourteen figured blonde veils at four dollars a-piece, is fifty-six dollars. Two hundred and six dollars, sir. That's a pretty good sale!" added the clerk, smiling with an air of self-satisfaction at having done so good a half hour's work.
"Yes, I suppose it is, John. But I'm afraid those extravagant daughters of old Hardamer will ruin as honest a man as ever lived. I wonder how he can be so weak, as to allow them, now that he is in trouble, to add so much to it. I shall dislike to send in the bill."
"That's his problem, not ours, you know," replied the clerk, laughing. "Its our business to sell goods."
"That's very true," responded Mr. Morrison; and he turned to his desk to make the charge.
Neither of the young ladies felt perfectly satisfied with what they were doing; but they had bought the satin and blonde, and it had passed into the dress-maker's hands. There was now no retreating, even if they had wished to do so. But of retreating, they had no idea, uncomfortable as they felt about it. They had never before so willfully and directlycontravened a positive command of their father's, and they could not, of course, feel very easy in mind. But none of this uneasiness arose from a sorrow for disobedience — it had reference only to the consequences of disobedience, when it became known.
On the night of the assembly, they dressed themselves in ball dresses used on a former occasion, and then rode off with the young men who had called for them, to Mrs. Sartain's, and there had themselves arrayed by that skillful lady's own hands in their splendid dresses.
"The most beautiful thing I ever saw!" said Mrs. Sartain, glancing with a skillful and practiced eye at Gertrude's dress, which she had just finished arranging on that young lady's person. "I have made several for the ball; but they won't bear a comparison with this."
"I am sure of that," responded Gertrude, with a lively emotion of pleasure.
And certainly they were splendid dresses; and if the figures they had been made to fit, had only been graceful and well proportioned, Gertrude and Genevra would have looked like queens.
Proudly did they glide, on that evening, through the dance, their beautiful dresses the admiration of some — the envy of many. Numerous were the beaux who crowded around them, and the hours flew by with almost the velocity of minutes.
Among the company were two young men, Mr. Appleton, who had recently opened a dry goods warehouse, and Mr. Carson, his friend, in the same business. These young men, who had been for some time endeavoring to make up their minds to offer themselves to the two girls, accompanied them to the ball this evening, and at its termination, attended them home.
"Well, how were you pleased, Carson?" said his friend, as they left the door of Mr. Hardamer, on bidding the girls good night.
"Humph!" responded that individual. "I think there was more froth than substance, there."
"So do I. These gatherings were never much to my taste."
"I've made up my mind," said Carson, "to back out."
"Ay, indeed! Why, what's the matter? I thought you were particularly pleased with Gertrude."
"Well, I must confess that I did feel a little inclined, as you know," replied Carson, "but the fact is, Appleton, I've seen a little too strong an exhibition of extravagance tonight. Gertrude was dressed splendidly, but rather too much so for a shoemaker's daughter, especially now that her father's affairs are in so poor a condition. I tried to think that she looked elegant, but every time she came near Miss Webster, with her neat, plain white dress, innocent face, and graceful elastic form, I could not but feel that her only merit, likebirds in mirthful plumage, lay in gaudy externals. I feel sick and disappointed."
"Pretty much the same kind of thoughts passed through my mind," said Appleton, "in reference to Genevra. Why, she'd ruin any man with her extravagant ideas! I must take counsel of prudence, and relinquish my visits. I would be a fool to put my neck into a halter with my eyes wide open!"
This conference confirmed in each, a half formed resolution to look somewhere else for a wife.
The heads of our young ladies were too nearly turned, to be able to think rationally about anything except the ball for a week after. Their splendid dresses were, of course, seen by their mother, who passed a slight censure upon them, and concealed the matter. As day after day, and week after week passed away, the wonder of the girls increased more and more, at the prolonged absence of their two particular beaux; and at the few and far between visits which they received from other young gentlemen. The truth was, the real condition of their father's affairs was better known to everybody, than to themselves; and there were few at the ball who did not feel something like contempt towards young ladies, who could be guilty of making so unnecessary a show, when prudence, and every other consideration, should have prompted them to have made an appearance better suited to their real condition and standing. They were, now, farther from making the desired matrimonial haven than ever.
Having once passed the point of no return, in consenting to run up a large bill in opposition to their father's implied commands, they were tempted to increase that bill from time to time, in the purchase of costly shawls, fine dresses, and the various extras of a woman's wardrobe, until the gentlemanly owners of the warehouse felt it necessary to hint to them, that their bill had already reached the round sum of five hundred dollars. Surprised and alarmed at this, they stopped short, and now had added to their other causes of trouble, the dread of the day when their father should receive this bill, the result of only three months' extravagance in dress.
In the mean time, Genevieve found the good seeds implanted in her mind through the agency of Anne Webster, gradually striking their roots deeper, and shooting up into tender and green leaves. Her character was undergoing a thorough change — silent, gradual, and sure. Acting constantly from a sense of duty, she always found enough in her father's house to give diligent activity to both mind and body, and thus was she kept in a state far above the distressing despondency which would otherwise have robbed her of all internal peace.
Her father perceived, and her mother and sisters felt the change, without acknowledging it. The former began to have different and kinder feelings towards her; but the latter felt that she had disgraced them by her imprudent marriage; and all desertion of beaux, or failure of false calculations on different young men, Gertrude and Genevra charged upon heras the cause.
So far as her husband was concerned, Genevieve grew more and more desirous every day to hear from him and to see him. Her own views and feelings being now thoroughly changed, she cherished in her mind the hope of winning him to regard her from other motives than the mere hope of riches. His desertion of her was a cruel one; and his continued silence, she felt to be still more cruel; but, being bound to him as his wife, she felt it to be her duty, as a wife, to do all in her power to interest his affections, if he should ever return to her — an event for which she ceased not to hope.
Under all the circumstances, her condition was one of painful trial; but, where there is the effort to do right and to feel right — the mind will never sink into distressing despondency. Strange as some may think it, hers was the most peaceful mind in her father's house.
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