The Bunsby papers Part 26

"Did I _see_ them! bedad, I was one myself."

"Oh! be aisy!"

"The divil a doubt of it; wasn't I at home a bit ago, unbeknownt to you? Answer me this, didn't you kiss the babby just before you came out?"

"As thrue as life, I did," said Mary, slightly awe-struck.

"I was there and saw you do it."

"Where were you, Corney?"

"Sittin' on the end of his nose."

Of course that was proof positive, but inasmuch as Mary always _did_ kiss the boy before she left the house, the coincidence becomes less remarkable.

It only remains for me to say, that the circ.u.mstance made a very favorable change in Corney's disposition, or rather dissipated the cloud which obscured his real character. Mary found her account in it, by an increase of industry on his part, and he was rewarded by a corresponding anxiety in her, to make his home happy. Many and many a time would he give an account of his aerial journey, religiously convinced of its reality; once only Mary just ventured to insinuate that it might possibly have been a dream, but the _I-pity-your-ignorance-look_ which Corney gave her, made her heartily ashamed of having hazarded so stupid an opinion, and, as a matter of course, she soon believed as implicitly as her husband, the wonderful adventure of _The Fairy Circle_.

O'BRYAN'S LUCK.

A TALE OF NEW YORK.

CHAPTER I.

THE MERCHANT-PRINCE.

In the private office of a first-cla.s.s store sat two individuals, each thoroughly absorbed in his present employment, but with very different feelings for the work. One--it was the head of the establishment, the great Mr. Granite, the millionaire merchant--was simply amusing himself, as was his usual custom at least once a day, figuring up, by rough calculation, the probable amount of his worldly possessions, they having arrived at that point when the fructifying power of wealth made hourly addition to the grand total; while the other, his old and confidential clerk, Sterling, bent a.s.siduously over a great ledger, mechanically adding up its long columns, which constant use had enabled him to do without the possibility of mistake. With a profound sigh of relief, he laid down his pen, and rubbing his cramped fingers, quietly remarked:

"Accounts made up, sir."

"Ah, very good, Sterling," replied the stately princ.i.p.al, with a smile, for his arithmetical amus.e.m.e.nt was very satisfactory, "how do we stand?"

"Balance in our favor, two hundred and fifty-seven thousand eight hundred and forty-seven dollars, and twenty-three cents," slowly responded the old clerk, reading from his abstract.

"You're certain that is correct, Mr. Sterling?" inquired the merchant-prince, in a clear, loud voice, which indicated that the old, time-worn machine was wearing out. He was so deaf that it was only by using his hand as a conductor of the sound, that he could hear sufficiently to carry on a conversation.

"Correct to a cypher, sir," he replied. "I have been up and down the columns a dozen times."

"Good."

"Did you speak, sir?"

"No."

"Ah! my poor old ears," the old clerk whispered, half aside. "Five and forty years in this quiet office has put them to sleep. They'll never wake up again, never, never."

"You have been a careful and useful a.s.sistant and friend, Sterling,"

said the merchant, in a kindly tone, touching him on the shoulder with unaccustomed familiarity, "and I thank you for the great good your services have done the house."

"Bless you, sir, bless you--you are too good. I don't deserve it,"

replied Sterling, unable to restrain the tears which this unusual display of good feeling, had forced up from the poor old man's heart.

"I shall have no further need of you to-day, Sterling, if you have any business of your own to transact."

"I have, I have, my good, kind friend, and thank you for granting me the opportunity," said Sterling, descending with difficulty from his place of torture.--Why will they not abolish those inflexible horrors, those relics of barbarism, those inquisitorial chattels--office-stools?

"I'll go now, and mingle my happiness with the sweet breath of Heaven--and yet, if I dared to say what I want--I"----

"Well, speak out, old friend." The merchant went on, with an encouraging look: "If your salary be insufficient"----

"Oh! no, no!" interposed the other, suddenly, "I am profusely paid--too much, indeed--but"--and he cast down his eyes hesitatingly.

"This reserve with me is foolish, Sterling. What have you to say?"

"Nothing much, sir; indeed, I hardly know how to bring it out, knowing, as I well do, your strange antipathy"---- Granite turned abruptly away.

He now knew what was coming, and it was with a dark frown upon his brow he paced the office, as Sterling continued:

"I saw _him_ to-day."

"Travers?"

"Yes," replied the other, "Travers. But don't speak his name as though it stung you. I was his father's clerk before I was yours."

"You know what I have already done for him," moodily rejoined the merchant.

"Yes, yes--I know it was kind, very kind of you--you helped him once; but he was unsuccessful. He is young--pray, pray, spare him some a.s.sistance. You won't miss it--indeed you won't," pleaded the clerk.

"Sterling, you are a fool," Granite replied, sternly. "Every dollar lent or lost is a backward step that must be crawled up to again by inches. But I am inclined to liberality to-day. What amount do you think will satisfy this spendthrift?"

"Well, since your kindness emboldens me to speak--it's no use patching up a worn coat, so even let him have a new one--give him another chance--a few hundred dollars, more or less, can't injure you, and may be his salvation. About five thousand dollars will suffice."

"Five thousand dollars! are you mad, Sterling?" cried the merchant, starting to his feet in a paroxysm of anger.

"Your son will have his half a million to begin with," quietly suggested Sterling.

"He will, he will!" cried the other, with a strange, proud light in his eye, for upon that son all his earthly hopes, and haply those beyond the earth, were centered. "Wealth is power, and he will have sufficient; he can lift his head amongst the best and proudest; he can wag his tongue amongst the highest in the land--eh, my old friend?"

"That can he, indeed, sir, and be ashamed of neither head nor tongue, for he's a n.o.ble youth," replied the clerk.

"Here, take this check, Sterling. I'll do as you wish this time; but mind it is the last. I have no right to injure, even in the remotest degree, my son's interests, of which I am simply the guardian. You can give it to--to--_him_, and with this positive a.s.surance."

"Bless you--this is like you--this is n.o.ble, princely," murmured the old clerk, through his tears, which now were flowing unrestrainedly; "when I tell"----

"Hold! repeat his name again, and I recall the loan. I repent already of having been entrapped into this act of folly."