Poor and Proud [5]
"It was all my own fault, Katy. I am here poor and wretched, because I disobeyed my father; because I did what he desired me not to do. I will tell you all about it, Katy. I became acquainted with the new clerk, John Redburn, and the result of our acquaintance was, that we were married in about a year. We ran away from home; for my father, however much he liked John as a clerk, was not willing that he should be my husband. He forbade John's coming to our house, and forbade my seeing him. I disobeyed him. We were married, and John was discharged. My father refused to see me again."
"That was cruel," interposed Katy
"My father was right, and I have always regretted that I disobeyed him. We came to America, and your father procured a situation in New York, where you were born, about a year after we arrived. For three years we got along very well. I wish I could stop here, Katy, for the rest of the story is very sad."
"Don't tell me any more, mother, it makes you feel so bad, I would rather not hear it. I know now why you value the watch so much, and I hope we shall be able to get it back again."
"I fear not. But you must hear the rest of this sad story."
Mrs. Redburn continued the narrative, though tears blinded her eyes, and sobs chocked her utterance, as she told of the struggle she had had with poverty and want. Her husband had done very well in New York; and, gay and light-hearted in the midst of his prosperity, his habits had been gradually growing worse and worse, till he lost his situation, and became a common sot. The poor wife had then been compelled to toil for her own support and that of her child; and having been brought up in luxury and ease, it was a dreadful task to her.
John obtained another situation, but soon lost it. He was a good-hearted man when he had not been drinking, and keenly felt the disgrace and misery he was heaping upon himself and his unhappy wife. Once he had the resolution to abandon the cup, fully determined to redeem his lost character, and make his family happy again. The better to accomplish this, he removed to Boston, where he obtained a good situation, and for more than a year he adhered to his resolution. Mrs. Redburn was happy again and tremblingly hoped that the clouds of darkness had forever passed away.
The evil time came again, and John Redburn sank down lower than ever before. His wife lost all hope of him, and struggled, with the courage of a hero and the fortitude of a martyr, against the adverse tide that set against her. She was fortunate in obtaining plenty of sewing, and was able to support herself and child very well; but her husband, now lost to all sense of decency, contrived to obtain, from time to time, a portion of her hard earnings. She could never have believed that John Redburn would come to this; for, as a clerk in her father's counting room, he had been all that was good and noble; but there he was a miserable sot, lost to himself, to his family, and the world.
One morning in winter he was brought home to her dead. He had died in the watch-house of delirium tremens. He was buried, and peace, if not hope, settled on the brow of the broken-hearted wife.
Year after year Mrs. Redburn struggled on, often with feeble hands and fainting heart, to earn a subsistence for herself and Katy. She had been bred in opulence, and her wants were not so few and simple as the wants of those who have never enjoyed the luxury of a soft couch and a well-supplied table. She had never learned that calculating economy which provides a great deal with very small means.
Hence it was much harder for her to support herself and child, than it would have been for one who had been brought up in a hovel.
She had done very well, however, until, a few months before our story opens, she had been taken sick, and was no longer able to work. Her disease was an affection of the spine, which was at times very painful, and confined her to the bed.
"But where is your father now?" asked Katy, when her mother had finished the narrative.
"I do not know; if he is alive,