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The Reverend Ezekiel Gear, who was the chaplain at the fort, evidently believed that cleanliness was next to godliness, for on July 31, 1855, he paid thirty cents for a scrub brush; on August 4th, he bought a broom for fifty cents; on August 30th, he purchased twenty-five cents worth of starch, and on October 19th, a large broom.
If people refused to believe that you try to give them their fifty cents' worth, you'd be so discouraged you'd sit down and cry, and say there's no justice on earth. Be kind to the umpire and give him a chance to live to a happy old age; reward him with praise and encouraging glance when he does his devoir on his stage.
But with the help of his father he corrected them, and when the tickets were printed for the show they were all right, even to the price to get in, which was twenty-five cents. But of course I haven't really reached the show part of this story yet. I just thought I'd mention the tickets.
Soon the procession turned off the road, the Beechams with it. The place was swarming with pickers. "How much are you paying?" Daddy asked. "Fifty cents a hundred." "Why, man alive, we'd starve on that pay," Daddy growled, the corners of his jaws white with anger. "You don't need to work if you don't want to," the manager barked at him. "Here's two thousand folks glad to work at fifty cents."
For no matter if the company does pay the expenses of Jack's illness and allows him a pension or whatever it was mamma called it, for awhile, you couldn't make fifty cents there where you could make fifty dollars here. So for all our sakes you ought to stay. But as long as I can't finish my course, a few weeks more or less can't make any difference to me. And I know very well I am needed at home."
After the election he returned the sum of $199.25, with the request that it be given back to the subscribers. "I did not need the money," he explained. "I made the canvass on my own horse; my entertainment, being at the houses of friends, cost me nothing; and my only outlay was seventy-five cents for a barrel of cider, which some farm-hands insisted I should treat them to."
When Putney dropped in to order his marketing, he usually said something like, "Well, Joel, how's cremation, this morning?" "Just booming, Squire. That stock's coming up, right along. Bound to be worth a hundred cents on the dollar before hayin', yet." This, or something like it, was what Gates usually answered, but one morning he asked, "Heard how it stands with the Ponkwasset folks, I suppose?
"For six cents." "But that is the retail price; when you sell goods at wholesale you ought not to ask so much for them." "You shall have them for five cents then," replied Katy, struck with the force of the suggestion. "I can't afford to give so much as that. I am a poor man. I have to go to the theater twice a week, and that costs me a dollar. Then a ride Sunday afternoon costs me three dollars.
The minister put his hand into his pocket and, after counting out certain coins, said: "Here's one dollar and eighty-four cents more. That makes twenty-six dollars. Now, Mr. Nash, you're the largest contributor to my salary in this neighbourhood. You gave twenty-six dollars last year fifty cents a week. It is a generous contribution, but I cannot take it any longer.
Harry asked, casually, as he drew off his heavy overcoat. "Yes; a small one." "How much ore did you take it from?" "About two tons, I should say." "Then, if the button is worth sixty cents," mocked Harry, "it will show that our ore is running thirty cents to the ton." "Oh, we'll have better ore, after a while," Tom laughed.
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