Barriers Burned Away Page 9

  CHAPTER VIII

  YAHCOB BUNK

  Before retiring, Dennis as usual took his Bible from his trunk to reada chapter. He was now in a very different mood from that of a few hoursago. The suggestion of his bar-room acquaintance was a light upon hisway. And with one of Dennis's age and temperament, even a small hopeis potent. He was eager for the coming day, in order to try theexperiment of wringing bread and opportunity for further search outof the wintry snows.

  But that which had done him the most good--more than he realized--wasthe kindness he had received, rough though it was--the sympathy andcompanionship of another human being; for if he had been cast away ona desert island he could not have been more isolated than in the greatcity, with its indifferent multitudes.

  Moreover the generous supper was not without its decided influence;and with it he had drunk a cup of good coffee, that nectar of the gods,whose subtile, delicate influence is felt in body and brain, in everyfibre of the nature not deadened and blunted by stronger and coarserstimulants. He who leaves out physical causes in accounting for mentaland moral states, will usually come wide of the mark. But while givingthe influences above referred to their due force, so far from ignoring,we would acknowledge with emphasis, the chief cause of man's abilityto receive and appreciate all the highest phases of truth and good,namely, God's help asked for and given. Prayer was a habit with Dennis.He asked God with childlike faith for the bestowment of every Christiangrace, and those who knew him best saw that he had no reason tocomplain that his prayers were unanswered.

  But now, at a time when he would most appreciate it, God was about toreveal to him a truth that would be a rich source of help and comfortthrough life, and a sudden burst of sunshine upon his dark way at thepresent hour. He was to be shown how he might look to heaven for helpand guidance in respect to his present and earthly interests, as trulyas in his spiritual life.

  As he opened his Bible his eyes caught the words of our Lord--"Launchout into the deep and let down your nets for a draught."

  Then Peter's answer--"Master, we have toiled all the night and havetaken nothing: nevertheless, at Thy word I will let down the net."

  The result--"They inclosed a great multitude of fishes."

  With these words light broke in upon his mind. "If our Lord," he mused,"helped His first disciples catch fish, why should He not help me finda good place?" Then unbelief suggested, "It was not for the sake ofthe fish; they were only means to a higher end."

  But Dennis, who had plenty of good common-sense, at once answeredthis objection: "Neither do I want position and money for low, selfishpurposes. My ends are the best and purest, for I am seeking my ownhonest living and the support of my mother and sisters--the veryimperative duties that God is now imposing on me. Would God reveal aduty and no way of performing it?"

  Then came the thought: "Have I asked Him to help me? Have I not beenseeking in my own wisdom, and trusting in my own strength? and thistoo when my ignorance of business, the dull season of the year, andeverything was against me, when I specially needed help. Little wonderthat I have fared as I have."

  Turning the leaves of his Bible rapidly, he began searching forinstances of God's interference in behalf of the temporal interestsof His servants--for passages where earthly prosperity was promisedor given. After an hour he closed the Bible with a long breath ofwonder, and said to himself "Why, God seems to care as much for thewell-being and happiness of his children here as He will when He hasus all about Him in the home above. I've been blind for twenty-oneyears to one of the grandest truths of this Book."

  Then, as the thought grew upon him, he exclaimed, joyously, "Takeheart, Dennis Fleet: God is on your side in the struggle for an honestsuccess in this life as truly as in your fight against sin and thedevil."

  It was long before he slept that night, but a truth had been revealedthat rested and strengthened him more than the heavy slumbers afterthe weary days that had preceded.

  The dawn of the winter morning was cold and faint when Dennis appearedin the bar-room the next day. The jolly-faced Teuton was making thefire, stopping often to blow his cold fingers, and wasting enough goodbreath to have kindled a furnace. His rubicund visage, surrounded byshaggy hair and beard of yellow, here appeared in the dust and smokehe was making like the sun rising in a fog.

  "Hillo!" he said, on seeing Dennis; "vat you oop dis early for? Don'tvant anoder dinner yet, I hope?"

  "I will take that in good time," said Dennis; "and shall want a biggerone than that which so astonished you at first."

  "Oh, my eyes!" said the German; "den I go and tell de cook to pegin toget him right avay."

  Laughing good-naturedly, Dennis went to the door and looked out. Onsidewalk and street the snow lay six or eight inches deep, untrodden,white and spotless, even in the heart of the great city. "How differentthis snow will look by night," thought he; "how soiled and black!Perhaps very many come to this city in the morning of life like thissnow, pure and unstained; but after being here awhile they become likethis snow when it has been tossed about and trodden under every carelessfoot. God grant that, however poor and unsuccessful I may remain, suchpollution may never be my fate."

  But feeling that he had no time for moralizing if he would secure breadfor the coming day of rest, he turned and said to the factotum of thebar-room, "How much will you give to have the snow cleared off thesidewalk in front of your house?"

  "Zwei shillen."

  "Then I will earn my breakfast before I eat it, if you will lend mea shovel."

  "I dought you vas a shentlemans," said the German, staring at him.

  "So I am; just the shentlemans that will clean off your sidewalk forzwei shillen, if you will let him."

  "You vant to do him for exercise?"

  "No; for zwei shillings."

  "I dought you vas a shentlemans," said the man, still staring in stolidwonder at Dennis.

  "Didn't you ever know of a gentleman who came from Germany to thiscountry and was glad to do anything for an honest living?"

  "Often and often I haf. You see von here," said the man, with a grin."Well, I am just that kind of a gentleman. Now if you will lend me ashovel I will clean off your sidewalk for two shillings, and be a greatdeal more thankful than if you had given me the money for nothing.""Little fear of dot," said the man, with another grin. "Vel, you areder queerest Yankee in Chicago, you are; I dink you are 'bout hafSherman. I tells you vat--here, vat's your name?--if you glean off dotsidewalk goot, you shall haf preakfast and dinner, much as you eat,vidout von shent to pay. I don't care if der cook is cooking all day.I like your--vat you call him?--shpunk."

  "It's a bargain," said Dennis; "and if I can make a few more like itto-day, I shall be rich."

  "You may vel say dot. I vill go into der market and see if dere'senough for me to keep my bart of der bargain goot."

  For half an hour Dennis worked away lustily, and then called histask-master and said, "Will you accept the job?"

  Surveying with surprise the large space cleared, and looking in vainfor reason to find fault, he said: "I say nothin' agin him. I hope youvill eat your dinner as quick. Now come in to your preakfast."

  He pretended to be perfectly aghast at Dennis's onslaught on thebuckwheat cakes, and rolled up his eyes despairingly as each new platewas emptied.

  Having finished, Dennis gave him a nod, and said, "Wait tilldinner-time."

  "Ah! dere vill be von famine," said the German, in a tone of anguish,wringing his hands.

  Having procured the needful implement, Dennis started out, and, thoughthere was considerable competition, found plenty to do, and shovelledaway with little cessation till one o'clock. Then, counting his gains,he found that he had paid for his shovel, secured breakfast and dinner,and had a balance on hand of two dollars and fifty cents, and he hadnearly half a day yet before him. He felt rich--nay, more than that,he felt like a man who, sinking in a shoreless ocean, suddenly catchesa plank that bears him up until land appears in the distance.

  "This is
what comes of asking God to help a fellow," said he to himself."Strange, too, that He should answer my prayer in part before I asked,by causing that queer jumble of good and evil, Bill Cronk, to suggestto me this way of turning an honest penny. I wish Bill was as good afriend to himself as he is to others. I fear that he will go to thedogs. Bless me! the gnawings of hunger are bad enough, but what mustbe those of conscience? I think I can astonish my German friend to-dayas never before;" and, shouldering his shovel, he walked back to dinner,feeling like a prince bearing aloft the insignia of his power.

  When he entered the bar and lunch room, he saw that something waswrong. The landlord met him, instead of his jolly, satirical friend.

  Now the owner of the place was a wizen-faced, dried-up old anatomy,who seemed utterly exhaling away in tobacco smoke, while his assistantwas becoming spherical under the expansive power of lager. It was hiscustom to sit up and smoke most of the night, and therefore he wasdown late in the morning. When he appeared his assistant told him ofthe bargain he had made with Dennis as a good joke. But old Hans hadn'tany faculty for jokes. Dollars and cents and his big meerschaum madeup the two elements of his life. The thought of losing zwei shillingsor zwei cents by Dennis, or any one else, caused him anguish, andinstead of laughing, his fun-loving assistant was aghast at seeing himfall into a passion.

  "You be von big fule. Vat for we keep mens here who haf no money? Youshould gleared him off, instead of making pargains for him to eat usout of der house."

  "We haf his trunk," said Jacob, for that was his name.

  "Nothin' in it," growled Hans, yet somewhat mollified by this fact.When Dennis appeared, he put the case without any circumlocution: "Imakes my livin' by keepin' dis house. I can no make my livin' unlessefrypodies bays me. I haf reason to dink dot you haf no moneys. Vatish de druf? 'Gause if you haf none, you can no longer stay here."

  "Have I not paid for everything I have had so far?" said Dennis.

  "Dot is not der question. Haf you got any moneys?"

  "What is your bill in advance up to Monday morning?"

  "Zwei dollar and a quarter, if you dake preakfast.""Deduct breakfast and dinner to-day for clearing off the sidewalk."

  "Dot ish too much; you did it in half-hour."

  "Well, it would have taken you three. But a bargain is a bargain, theworld over. Did not you promise it?"--to Jacob.

  "Yah! und you shall haf him, too, if I be der loser. Yahcob Bunk ishnot der man to go pack on his vort."

  "Vel, den," said old Hans, "von dollar sheventy-five to Monday morning."

  "There's the money; now let me have my dinner, for I am in a hurry."

  At the sight of money Hans at once became the most obsequious of hosts,and so would remain while it lasted. But Dennis saw that the momentit was gone his purchased courtesy would change, and he trembled athis narrow escape from being thrust out into the wintry streets,friendless, penniless, to beg or starve--equally hard alternatives tohis mind.

  "Come, Yahcob, thou snail, give der shentlemans his dinner," said Hans.

  Jacob, who had been looking on with heavy, stolid face, now brightenedup on seeing that all was right, and gave Dennis a double portion ofthe steaming pot-pie, and a huge mug of coffee. When Dennis had finishedthese and crowned his repast with a big dumpling, Jacob came to himwith a face as long and serious as his harvest moon of a visage couldbe made, and said: "Dere ish nodding more in Chicago; you haf gleanedit out. Ve must vait dill der evenin' drain gomes pefore ve haf supper."

  "That will be time enough for me," said Dennis, laughing--for he couldlaugh to-day at little things--and started off again with his shovel.