Some men set a high value upon honor, others will sell themselves for a trifle. The value of a man is not one whit higher than the value he sets on his honor. Some men scorn to be dishonest in the small affairs of life, and as friends and neighbors are ever upright and honorable, yet can be tempted in greater matters to sell their birthright for the gain of the profiteer or the influence of the politician. Other men abhor these greater forms of dishonor, but in little things are petty and mean. They are like the woman who prides herself on her cleverness when she cheats the milkman out of a quart of milk or the peddler out of a paper of pins. When a boy undertakes to look out for himself, he must learn to deal with these petty meannesses in others or be continually deceived.
Austin met the world with no expectation of fraud or ill will, and when he found these, he was surprized and grieved, and was quite unprepared to cope with the situation. His first summer’s work was to teach him a rather severe lesson in human nature. Farmer Coles knew the boy and that he was a good worker, and deliberately planned to get a farm-hand at a very reasonable rate. He was careful to see that Austin earned fully every dollar he received all the summer through, but he had no intention of keeping him during the winter. When school began the first of September, there was yet much to be done in the fields, and Austin consented, at the farmer’s suggestion, to keep at his work for another month, but the first of October he quit and started to school.
From the time he entered school, the atmosphere about the home, and Mr. Cole’s attitude toward his choreboy, changed completely. Where he had been pleasant, he now was surly and cross. He found fault with all that Austin did, and it seemed impossible to please him in anything.
One evening Mr. Coles told Austin to get out the car and have it lighted and ready, for he intended to go to a neighbor’s. This Austin did, carrying out with him a few matches to light the car-lamps. He had intended to take the surplus matches back to the kitchen, but as Mr. Coles came out ready to start, Austin forgot them. It was a thing forbidden about the Coles’ premises that a hired man should carry matches in his pockets. Mr. Coles had been particular about this rule, and thus far Austin had not offended.
When they were ready to start for home, Mr. Coles had trouble in lighting his lamps, and his last match blew out. He was in the act of going in for another supply from his neighbor when Austin remembered those in his pocket and handed him one.
“Carrying matches, Austin?” asked the farmer sharply.
“No, not ordinarily, but I had two or three left from lighting the car this evening and had not yet carried them back to the kitchen.”
“See that you dispose of them at once when we get back.” But it was late and Austin was sleepy and again he forgot. He did not think of them till early in the morning while he was helping with the milking. His lantern went out, and he had started to the house for a match when he remembered those in his pocket, and, taking one out, struck it and lighted his lantern. Now the farmer had the excuse he was looking for. He had no intention of giving the boy his board all winter. Far was that from his mind. He had not liked to turn him out without a cause, but rather to make life so uncomfortable for him that he would not stay. Not till now had he found a real cause for an outburst of wrath, and using his opportunity to its fullest extent, he railed out at Austin, using abusive language.
“I am sorry, Mr. Coles, that I forgot to take the matches from my pocket, but you know very well that I do not smoke and have no need of them about me. Also you know how I came to have these at this time,” said Austin hotly, for his anger burned at the language and accusations heaped upon him.
Mr. Coles’ retort had been more bitter than ever, and Austin picked up the milk-bucket and lantern and walked out of the barn and to the house. Here he strained the milk, put away the lantern, washed himself, and went to his room, never saying a word to the farmer’s wife, who looked at him wonderingly because he had come to the house before the chores were finished. He did not come down to breakfast, for he was too angry to eat at the same table with Mr. Coles. A little later he was ready, and coming down-stairs with his suitcase, he stopped to bid Mrs. Coles good-by.
“Why, Austin, what does this mean? You are not leaving us!”
“Yes, Mr. Coles and I have had trouble, and I will not stay any longer.”
“Come, come, Austin, you are hasty. You kept your part of the agreement all summer, now do not leave as if we drove you off.”
“Mr. Coles knows he has been unjust,” said Austin going on out.
There were those who knew Mr. Coles to be the man he proved himself, and were not surprized when Austin gave up the place. One person who understood perfectly was Harry Coles, the farmer’s nephew. He was a young married man just starting in life. The help that Austin could give night and morning was just what Harry needed with his milking and other chores, and here Austin found a home at once.
This family was congenial, and Austin was soon settled and steady at his school-work. He was made to feel that what he did fully paid for what he received and that he was not in any way an object of charity. As the weeks moved on so smoothly and pleasantly, Austin also made good progress in school. But his very happiness made him more sad when he thought of the children. How his surroundings contrasted with theirs! While he was enjoying such kindness at the hands of these friends, he knew they were being neglected.
Though he had never written home, and they knew nothing about him, he kept in pretty good touch with their affairs through the letters the girls wrote to their cousins. In every one they had spoken of him, and when cold weather came on, the burden of their letters was for Austin.
After Austin left, his father had hired a woman to keep house for a while, but she did not stay long. Help such as he needed was hard to get, and he had not been able to procure another housekeeper. The girls were hardly old enough to understand how to keep all the ends of the housework going, and their father was as helpless as they. Home had gone in a most haphazard manner. Mr. Hill had encouraged the children to accept places to work as they had been offered. It was only occasionally that they were all at home together. A sense of love and loyalty for home was fading out of their minds, as was also the sense of moral obligation. The younger children were becoming rebellious and evil-minded. All this Austin read between the lines of the letters. His heart ached as he thought of his dear mother and how different it would have been had she lived. He would be jolly all the evening with Harry and his wife, but when he lay upon his bed, his pillow was often wet with his tears. As yet, though, he could not see it his duty to go home.
“Where do you suppose Austin is? Does he ever think of home? I wonder if he is yet alive. Have you heard anything of him?” wrote Amy in one of her letters.
“Do not worry about Austin,” her uncle had written in reply; “he is able to care for himself, and I am certain he is getting on all right.”
“Listen to what Uncle John says about Austin,” said Amy as she read the letter, “I have an idea he is with Uncle John, else he would not be so confident he is all right.”
Henry Hill read the letter carefully. He wanted Austin, he needed him. He had his lesson and would not nag the boy any more. While Austin was patient, it was plain to be seen that he would not stand to be trampled on. Thinking it all over, he decided to send a letter to his brother-in-law that would bring the boy home if he were there. It was not to be a harsh or authoritative letter, but an appeal for the children. He knew Austin would come home if he had assurance of better treatment.
While these matters were being worked out in the Hill home, Austin was tasting of pleasures which were to make him see life in a new light. We can not always see the plan of the Master in all his dealings with us, but path before us the most dim, the hand of God was guiding all the way.
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