Father Merrill

Front matter

I

Father and Mother Merrill. — Page n.

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Contents

XV. Sickness of Brent Murray 282

XVI. Changes among the Young People. 295

XVII. George Esty’s Return to the City. 318 XVIII. Dorcas Armstrong’s Experience. . . 332 XIX. The Blessing that maketh rich. . . 354

Chapter I. Honesty

ODLINESS is profitable unto all things ; having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is

to come.”

An old man repeated this grand truth, which so needs to be impressed upon the eager aspirants for worldly gains and worldly honors. Threescore and five years had Father Merrill numbered ; yet was not his . eye dimmed, or his natural force abated. His figure, tall and erect, his head wearing its crown of glory,

FATHER MERRILL.

and his face, eloquent with peaceful, loving thoughts, — he was one to win the confidence of all who looked upon him. His counsel was sought by young and old. His sympathy was craved by those who sorrowed and those who rejoiced. Children felt themselves blessed by the touch of his hand, and the suffering were soothed by the tones of his voice.

His wife, a woman of rare goodness, was well worthy to share his home and fortune. “ Worthy of a better fortune,” as he had sometimes told her, when his own was limited to what he could earn by daily labor.

But for more than a quarter of a century he had been the owner of the best farm and the best house in town. Sons and daughters had here gathered around him, and from this home had gone forth to the active duties of life. But of all, not one remained to cheer the declining years of their parents. In the flush of manhood and womanhood they had died, leaving none to bear their name.

A grandson, Seth Merrill Grant, the only child of Father Merrill’s eldest daughter, was

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the one link which bound the old man to the coming generations. And this child the grandparents had not seen since he was an infant. Soon after the death of his wife, the father had removed to a distant part of the country, and all intercourse between the families ceased.

Truly these Christian parents had been afflicted ; yet through all they had been able to say, “ Thy will, O Lord, be done.” It was an unexpected providence, however, which took from them their home, when they most needed its comforts, and would most keenly feel their want. To assist a friend, Mr. Merrill had given his name as security in certain business transactions, and, as a result, had been obliged to sacrifice his entire property ; although there were those who insisted that he was under no obligation to do this. He was urged to make some arrangement by which this could be avoided.

“ Would it be honest ? ” asked the old man, looking earnestly at the neighbor who counseled him to save his home.

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“ More honest than Goddard has been/’ was the reply. “You ought to think of your wife in this matter.”

“ I have thought of my wife, neighbor Hurd. I’ve always thought of her first, since a good while before we begun to live together. She never’s had reason to doubt my word, and ’twould go hard with us both if she had to begin now.”

“But, Father Merrill, this an’t your debt, and folks don’t think you ought to pay it. Goddard may pull through, but tan’t no ways likely ; and if he goes under, you’ll go with him, unless — ”

“ Unless I act like a scoundrel,” interrupted the old man, with unwonted severity.

“ Does your wife know anything about it ? ” asked the neighbor.

“ She knows all about it,” was the reply. “ I didn’t lend my name to Ben Goddard without consulting her. If a woman’s got to share a man’s lot, she ought to have some voice in managing it. Mother and I don’t have no separate interests.”

HONESTY.

II

“ Have you any objections to my talking with your wife about it?”

This man had been requested to leave no means untried to effect his purpose.

“ Not the least in the world,” Father Merrill replied to this question. “ Come right in now, and I’ll promise not to speak a word, unless I’m asked.”

Mrs. Merrill listened to her neighbor while he explained the manner in which business could be arranged, and their home be saved. “You see it’s what a good many do,” he hastened to add, “ church members, too ; and there an’t a soul in this town that would think any less of you or your husband for it.”

“ There’s two that would,” the good woman responded. “ Father and I should. I don’t doubt but what you mean well ; but we must keep a clear conscience, whether we have a home or not.”

“But Goddard han’t been honest, mother Merrill. Your husband didn’t expect he’d run half the risks he has, and that makes a difference.”

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"It makes a difference with him, but not with us,” was Mrs. Merrill’s answer. “ I can’t think but what he meant to do about right. We mustn’t judge him too hard. We all make mistakes.”

“And that’s the way you look at it!” remarked Mr. Hurd, a little impatiently.

“Yes, neighbor, it is. Father and IVe thought it all over, and made up our minds.”

“ ’Twas hard for you, mother ; but he wanted to talk with you,” said Mr. Merrill to his wife, when their visitor had left. “’Twas all out of good will to us that he come. It’s likely to me Ben Goddard won’t keep on many days longer, though I don’t doubt he’s trying, might and main. I wanted to help him along; but I didn’t expect how ’twould turn out.”

“You did what you thought was for the best, father. We’re both of us strong and well, and if we have to go away from here, there’ll be a place for us somewhere else.”

“There’ll be a home for me as long as you live, Mary,” replied the old man, laying his

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hand caressingly upon his wife’s head. “ But I hope Ben will come over, and explain matters, so that I shan’t blame him more than he deserves.”

Just at night a worn, tired-looking man drove up to the door, and fastened his horse, without once looking to the house. He lingered a little, fumbling awkwardly with some part of the harness. Then he raised his hand to his face, half shading his eyes ; and thus he might have stood, unconscious of the lapse of time, had not a pleasant voice called to him.

“ I can’t come in,” he replied. “But I’ve something to tell you, if you’ll hear it.”

“ Of course I’ll hear it. Come right in and sit down. Mother and me are here alone.”

Ben Goddard did not again refuse, although it seemed impossible for him to enter that house.

“ I’ve come to tell you that — ” Here the visitor paused in his pre-arranged speech, and exclaimed, “ I’d rather have lost my right hand, Father Merrill, than come here to-night.

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I’m a scoundrel and a thief ; but I didn’t mean it. You won’t believe I ever meant to wrong you, the best friend I ever had. Say you won’t believe that, whatever comes.” At this point, the speaker broke down utterly, and before another word was spoken, knelt at the feet of the man whom he had beggared.

“Ben, my boy, you mustn’t kneel to me. I’m going to believe every word you say; and I’m glad you come. Take a chair here, right between mother and me, and tell us all about it,” said Mr. Merrill.

But Ben Goddard was like a child in his grief. Now that his self-control had given way, great sobs convulsed his frame, while tears rained down his cheeks. Despite all remonstrances, he would not rise until he had received assurance of forgiveness ; and even then it cost him a terrible effort to meet the gaze of his friends. These dear friends, who had known and loved him since he was a boy, wept with him, moved by sympathy rather than sorrow, for their own misfortunes.

“ I haven’t shut my eyes for two nights,” he

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remarked, when he could command his voice. 4‘ Last night, at ten o’clock, I went down to the mill, determined never to leave it alive. It seemed to me I couldn’t live and meet what’s coming.”

“ And did you think you could meet your God better than you could your fellow-men ? ” asked Father Merrill, his voice quivering with emotion. “ Oh Ben ! I wouldn’t believed that of you,” he added. “Why, my boy, your mother was a Christian woman, and your father was* a Christian man. You wouldn’t taken your own life?”

“ I couldrit do it,” was the reply. “ But I was sorely tempted. ’Twas thinking of you and mother Merrill made me feel the worst. I’d been willing to die, if that would freed you from all connection with my business.”

“ Don’t, Ben, don’t talk so,” said Mrs. Merrill. “I don’t count our property anything beside your life. Didn’t you think of your wife and children ? ”

“Not so much as I did of you and your husband,” was the answer to this question. I didn’t give up till yesterday ; and now I’ve managed to put things off, so there’s one chance for you to save yourselves.”

“Ben ! Ben ! You han’t come to tell me I can do a dishonest thing,” exclaimed his host. “ I didn’t expect you’d run such risks when I give you my name, and I’m sorry you did ; but I shan’t go back on the security. I can bear poverty ; but I can’t dishonor my Master.”

“ I didn’t do right,” responded Mr. Goddard, sadly. “ I ought to have consulted you about the risks ; but I was so sure of making money, and clearing off every debt, that I neglected it. If it hadn’t been for the freshet I believe I should. That did a good deal of damage ; and while I was repairing, I lost a good many orders that would have given me great profits. I’ve tried hard to save myself and you, father Merrill ; but everything has seemed to work against me since the freshet.”

“ The Lord’s hand was in it, my boy,” was the old man’s reply. “If this leads you to acknowledge him as your God, you’ll be a more prosperous man than if you’d made all

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I 7 the money you expected. I want to see you a Christian, more than I want to keep my home.”

“ I mean to be a Christian some time,” Mr. Goddard made answer. “ I know I need religion. I never felt that as I did last night ; and I never felt my own wickedness as I did then.”

“ We must all feel our wickedness before we are willing to ask God’s forgiveness. I hope you thought of that, Ben.”

“ I’m afraid I thought more of your forgiveness than I did of God’s. I could bear my own trouble, and my family could bear their part of it.”

“ And God will help us to bear our trouble,” said Mr. Merrill. “I’m so thankful that you meant to do right, it don’t seem so hard. We’d better talk it all over, and have a fair understanding. It’s always best to look everything square in the face, and see the worst of it.”

“ Had you been to supper before you came from home?” now inquired Mrs. Merrill, who had not thought before to ask the question.

“I left home soon after dinner,” was the reply. “ But it’s all the same. I don’t wish for any supper. I haven’t eaten much for the last week or two.”

“ Then there’s the more need you should eat with us,” said the good woman. “ Father, you and Ben better go into the west room to talk over your business.”

From the windows of this west room could be seen the long sweep of meadow land, and the rich upland fields, which formed a large part of Seth Merrill’s goodly estate. Years of skillful cultivation had made this a model farm ; and in all the country round there was not another which would so attract the attention of a stranger. The owner of this fair heritage did not look from the windows, as was his wont ; but seating himself at an old-fashioned desk, motioned his companion to a chair near him, as he said, “ I want to know everything about your business that concerns me. I must make some calculations.”

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Again the younger man wept ; but directly his host exclaimed, “ Come, Ben, this won’t do. The sooner the better, my boy ; and I trust I’m prepared for the worst.’*

By a great effort, Ben Goddard restrained his tears. He had come prepared to make every possible explanation in regard to his business ; and taking from his pocket a large package of papers, he soon proved that he had been neither careless nor dishonest.

Mr. Merrill, quick to see and acknowledge this, said heartily, ‘II know you meant well, Ben, and you had reason to calculate on coming out right. I’m glad to know it, too ; and I have just as much confidence in you now as I ever had.”

“ Oh, Father Merrill, do you really mean that ? ” cried the unfortunate man.

“Yes, Ben, I do mean it. I’m in the habit of saying what I mean ; and there’s another thing, — I’d rather lose every dollar I’m worth, than know you’ve been dishonest. ’Twill take all ; but there’ll be a way provided for ftiother and me.”

FATHER MERRILL.

“ But it is so hard,” said Mr. Goddard. “ It almost distracts me to think of it.”

“ No, Ben ; don’t feel like that. There’s a providence in it for all of us. You’ve time enough to make money, if you live ; and I hope I haven’t set my heart on this place If I have, it’s best it should be taken from me.”

At this moment, Mrs. Merrill opened the door, to say that supper was ready, her sweet, placid face showing no traces of agitation. “ Come, Ben,” she said, pleasantly. “ It’s a good while since you ate with us, and you ought to have a good appetite after your ride.”

Thus urged, he went to the table, where his plate was heaped with tempting food, which he could not but accept. “ I haven’t eaten such a meal for a fortnight,” he said, with something like cheerfulness, as he declined the fourth cup of tea. “ I begin to feel some courage ; and, please God, you shall spend your last days in this house, if we all live ten years. I’m going home*to tell my family what you’ve done for me. They shall know that you’ve saved me,

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soul and body. If you’d reproached me, and believed I meant to be dishonest, I shouldn’t know how to go home. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll hurry along.”

“’Twas just as I expected,” remarked Mr. Merrill that evening, when, with his wife, he reviewed the events of the day. “ Ben meant well ; and if he’d asked me, I don’t know but I should have told him to keep on. He was always a good boy, and it may be that this is the way to make him think more of another world than he does of this. Now, mother, you and I must hold him up. There’s a good many’ll say he’s been dishonest, and that’ll hurt him about getting into business. It’s the Lord’s doings, all of it ; and we won’t complain.”

“ No, father,” was the wife’s reply. “ There’ll be a way opened for us. I’m just as sure of it, as I be that we’ve been blessed, in basket and store, all these years. I love the old place ; but now the children are all gone, we don’t need so much room. There’s only you and me.”

FATHER MERRILL.

“ That’s all, Mary ; and God knows what’s best for us.”

As Mr. Goddard had said, he began to feel some courage. The fact that father Merrill had accepted his explanation, and still trusted him, was of great importance. His principal creditor, although not a generous man, was scrupulously just, so that he could count upon honorable treatment.

Chapter II

FAMILY CONSULTATION AT MR. GODDARD’S.

HE mill, of which he had been the owner, was a woolen manufactory, producing a kind of flannel, then coming into favor, and could be run at great profit. He hoped to make some arrangements, by which he would be allowed to retain charge of the mill, and share the profits. Everything depended upon the principal creditor, and during his ride home Mr Goddard was devising ways and means by which this man might be influenced. At length it occurred to him that father Merrill's judgment and counsel would have more weight than that of any other friend. “ But I couldn’t ask another favor of one I’ve ruined,” he said aloud. “ That would be too much. I must take my chance.”

FATHER MERRILL.

At home, wife and children waited anxiously for his return. There was Ben, junior, sixteen years of age, the best scholar and the handsomest boy in the district. A strong, well-knit frame, and a full, broad forehead, gave proof of the energy which only waited the development of time and opportunity. He was mother’s boy ; as devoted to her as if she had been some young girl whose love he sought to win. “ Handy,” the neighbors called him, because he knew so well how to assist his mother, and lighten her labors ; but I fancy that “hearty” would have best described him. A universal favorite, many were the predictions of his success in life. He, himself, also indulged in ambitious dreams. To go through college and study a profession, were the first steps in his anticipated career ; and not one wish or hope was concealed from his mother. His father, too, shared his confidence ; but this father knew that he held the second place in his boy’s affections.

Next in age to Ben was Dell, a girl of twelve, and a fitting companion for her brother : ambi-

FAMILY CONSULTATION.

tious to excel in whatever claimed his attention, and desiring no higher praise than to be assured she had done as well as he. William, two years younger, and the twins, Charles and Charlotte, five years of age, completed the family number.

Mr. Goddard had been unwilling that his wife or son should know the extent of his liabilities, or the danger of his failure. He had been morose and gloomy, quite unlike his usual self ; yet he gave no explanation, beyond saying that his business troubled him. But there were others who, knowing of his embarrassment, did not scruple to' carry the evil tidings to his family.

“ I wish father would tell me about it himself,” said Ben to his mother. “I know I could help him if he would. Things have been going wrong ever since the freshet. I’ve seen enough to know that, and father don’t seem like the same man he did before.”

“ No, he don’t,” answered Mrs. Goddard with a sigh. “ I know there’s trouble coming ; but he won’t tell me.”

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The conduct of the husband and father was closely scrutinized. After a time a terrible fear took possession of his wife’s heart. In his sleep he revealed what he would not disclose in his waking hours, at the same time hinting vaguely at a sure way of escape.

When he went to the mill, the night before his visit to Mr. Merrill, he was followed by his son, who did not allow him to remain unobserved for a single moment. All unconscious of this, the wretched man paced the floor of his counting-room, while a knotted coil of rope lay upon the desk. Several times he paused in his nervous walk and examined the rope, until, at last, he threw it from him with an expression of horror. “ My God ! save me from myself,” he cried.

Outside, the boy watched and waited, great drops of perspiration on his forehead, while he scarcely dared breathe, lest he should betray his presence. Long past midnight his father returned to the house, he following cautiously. He lay down beside his brother, closing his eyes, and hoping to shut out the picture which

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haunted him. In that night he seemed to grow older by many years. His brain was strangely active, and for the time all personal ambition was forgotten. To encourage his father, assist his mother, and in some way help his brothers and sisters, he was ready to make any sacrifice.

Little did the father know of the true character of his son ; little did he dream how he had been guarded by the care of this boy, who, the next morning, greeted him so cheerfully. But now, as he pursued his solitary drive, he thanked God that he was yet alive, with health and strength to labor, and if so it might be, to retrieve his fortune.

When he reached home he received an affectionate welcome from each member of his family, the younger children clamoring for caresses. Surely he was not a poor man.

“ We waited supper for you/’ said his wife.

“ And I have eaten supper with father and mother Merrill,” was the reply. “You should not have waited so late for me. But perhaps I can eat again.”

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“ Wait for Ben,” urged Dell, who wished to share all things with him ; and so soon as he - had cared for old Bill he came in response to his sisters call.

It had been weeks since so cheerful a group had gathered around this table. *A burden seemed lifted from all hearts, and yet not a word had been spoken in regard to the subject which was to them of vital importance. After supper Mr. Goddard talked with his children until the striking of the clock reminded them that it was time for them to retire.

Ben and Dell, who counted themselves “ grown up,” were allowed to consult their own pleasure in the matter of sleep, and this evening their father desired their companionship. He had something to tell them ; and as parents and children grouped themselves closely together, he felt strong to do and bear whatever might be demanded of him.

Beginning with the first business venture, in which he had been assisted by Mr. Merrill, he recounted in detail his plans and his expectations. He had been confident of success.

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He spoke of the anxiety he had suffered, and the agony he had endured, confessing the temptation which had assailed him.

“ It makes the blood curdle in my veins to think of it,” he exclaimed. “ I was a fool and a coward to think of leaving you to bear what I could not bear myself. But something held me back, and, thank God, that temptation can never come to me again. I didn’t think so much of you as I did of the old folks that must lose their home through my misfortune. ’Twas terrible for me to go over there to-day. I’d rather have lost my right hand ; but they treated me as though I was their son, and encouraged me to hope for better days. Ben, my boy, do you think we can get a living when the old mill is gone?”

Ben’s labored breathing betrayed his emotion, and it was almost with a gasp that he said, “ We must pay Mr. Merrill, whether we have a living or not. I can work.”

“ So can I,” rejoined Dell, speaking for the first time. “Ben and I can work together somewhere. It’s too bad those dear old people

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should lose their beautiful home. Couldn’t you help it, father ? ”

“ No, child, I couldn’t, since I thought there was any danger,” replied Mr. Goddard, with a quivering voice. “ I’ve tried my best ; but it’s no use. Wife, haven’t you something to say ? ” he asked, turning to the woman at his side.

“ No ; only we must do the best we can,” she answered. “ I’m sorry for father and mother Merrill. That seems the worst. I wish — ” Here she paused, not caring to complete the sentence.

“ I wish too, wife,” said her husband sadly. “But wishes never avail anything. If I live ten years, I can make this matter right. I could do it in less time if Mr. Cofran w.ould allow me to run the mill at any decent rate.”

“Wouldn’t he?” asked Ben, now fully roused.

“ I don’t know,” was the reply. “ It all depends on whether he thinks me honest, and cares to give me a chance. Father Merrill would have more influence with him than any one else ; but I can’t ask another favor of the

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old man. I meant to stave off the crash as long as I could ; but now, since it’s all understood, I don’t care how soon it comes. Then we shall know the worst, and can make our plans accordingly. I’m afraid you’ll have to put off going to school, Ben. I meant to send you right along.”

“ I’ll send myself some time ; but I can wait,” the boy replied bravely. “ I’ll help you the best I know how, if you’ll let me do it my own way. I’ve got a plan, or the shadow of one. It won’t cost anything to try it, and it won’t hurt anybody ; but I’m not ready to tell what it is.”

Later, when all in the house were still, Ben went softly into his sister’s room, where the two held a whispered consultation, while the old clock on the stairs ticked loudly, as if* to remind them of the flight of time. “ Why, it’s two o’clock ! ” at length exclaimed Ben. “ Go to sleep now, and we’ll see what will happen when we’re all wide awake down stairs.’’

Mr. Goddard left his bed early next morn- *ing; but he had not been long up when his

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son accosted him cheerfully, saying, “Well, father, I hope you are going to let me try my plan. The more I think of it the better it seems.”

“ Does your mother know about it ? ”

“ No, sir. No one knows except Dell. But I think you can trust me.”

“ I think I cany my boy,” was the hearty response.

“ Then I can have old Bill to-day, and go where I please ? ”

“Yes,” answered the father; and that he trusted his son was proved by the fact that he asked no questions. “ I must be at home all day. I have money to pay off the help, and shall find enough to do without riding. The world looks brighter to me this morning than it has for a long time. If I could only have that old mill two years, as trade is now, I could do something.”

“ If you could, father, I would take Billy Brown’s place, and not ask for any help either.

I know about chemicals as well as he does.”

“ Perhaps ; but I’m afraid it’s no use to think*

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of the mill. We must give that up, and try the next best thing.”

At this Ben turned away to light the kitchen fire, and make ready for his mother. Dell soon appeared, her face eloquent with the secret which had been intrusted to her, and which seemed to her the grandest thing in the world.

“ Can we have old Bill ? ” she asked in a low tone.

“Yes; that’s settled,” replied her brother. “So all we’ve got to do is to be ready for a start. I’m going to work in the garden. You help mother, and mind you look bright. Don’t let her see any long faces.”

“ I won’t,” answered Dell, and directly she was trilling a merry lay, which rang out upon the morning air clear and sweet as the song of a bird,

Mrs. Goddard, cheered by this, gave ample praise to her daughter for what had been accomplished in the way of preparation for breakfast. “There’s not much left for me to do,” she said, smiling.

“ We didn’t mean there should be,” replied the energetic girl. “Ben and I want to go away this morning, if you can spare me.”

“Yes, child, I can spare you, and I shall be glad to have you go. You and Ben have earned a holiday.”

“You dear, good mother!” cried Dell, kissing her, and then giving attention to the twins, who came forward, rubbing their eyes, not quite certain that they were awake.

Charley called loudly for Ben ; but in default of the young man’s appearance, managed to accept the services of Ben’s sister. It really began to seem like old times in that home. A stranger might have fancied that some good fortune had come to the family. No one was allowed to wear or see a long face. Mr. Goddard went out from breakfast hopeful and courageous.