Sam is now off, and for a season we must bid him adieu. Jim and Ned felt sorely the loss of one with whom they had been so long and happily connected; but matters of the last importance soon demanded their attention, and for the time banished thoughts of friends, and almost all other earthly considerations. Their business had hitherto been prosperous, and they had yet to learn, by their own experience, some of those trials which business men are ever liable to suffer. The advantage which they possessed of receiving supplies immediately from one of the largest marts in our country not only insured to them the trade of individual families, but also that of many stores removed far back into the country; with these they were obliged to deal on liberal terms, allowing them a credit of sufficient length to meet the slow returns of a country trade. They had as yet carried on a successful traffic, settling every six months by an exchange of produce, or a note at short time.

One article of country produce had become a valuable item in their trade—the pine timber from the barrens—and so urgent was the demand for it, in consequence of its excellent quality, and the facility with which it could be floated to market, that they found it necessary to make large purchases beyond what they would receive as an exchange of goods; these purchases had frequently to be made by an advance of one-half or three-fourths of the value, and the balance paid on delivery.

As their orders of late had been much increased, they had exerted themselves to procure funds, and by this method had, as they supposed, secured a very large and valuable lot of timber.

One morning—the very day after the departure of Sam—they were favoured with a visit from Mr. Cross. James, the elder partner, received him politely, but with some reserve; for, to tell the truth, they had no favorable opinion of his character. He had a fine lot of timber for sale, and would be glad to contract with them for it.

'We have already engaged as much as we need at present, sir, and are expecting it every day; in fact, Mr. Bolton promised to deliver it last week, but I presume he has met with some unexpected hindrance.'

'If it is from Mr. Bolton you are expecting the timber, I think you may give up looking for it, as I have been obliged to take all he has on hand, to secure myself for a debt he owed me. I suppose you know that he has gone to pieces?'

As Mr. Cross said this, he cast a very inquisitive glance at young Montjoy—

'I hope you have not advanced much to neighbor Bolton on account of the timber; these are tight times, you know.'

Just then Ned entered the store, and handed his brother a letter, which he had opened and read. Jim saw too clearly that there was a good reason for the very serious air which his brother's countenance assumed, when he handed it to him.

'I believe, Mr. Cross, that we can do nothing about the timber this morning.'

'Good morning, gentlemen.'

No sooner had their visitor left, than they retired to a little back room at the end of their store, where they had held many a pleasant conversation in company with their friend Sam. Heretofore, when they had repaired to this room, it had been with light hearts, and many a joyous hour had they passed there—far different feelings now pressed their spirits. Their trials until now had been of the light and transient kind, which a little youthful energy, a little determination of purpose, or putting forth of physical power, could overcome and scatter. Now they have got a lesson to learn on a new page of life.

When they reached the room, Jim again read over the letter, which proved to be another messenger with bad tidings.

It ran as follows:—

'Gentlemen,—I am sorry to be compelled to inform you that the two notes of Bowers & Co. and Jones & Brothers, which fell due yesterday at the Bank, were protested for non-payment; the note which I hold of yours for fifteen hundred dollars, and to meet which the above notes were left with me, will be due in ten days, and you will be obliged to remit the amount, or otherwise arrange for it, as the distressing pressure at present on the money market will render it utterly impossible for me to honor your note from my own resources. I send this by private hands in advance of the mail, as I wish you to have the earliest notice possible of this event.

'Yours respectfully,
'James McFall.'

To make this letter more intelligible, it may be proper to state that Mr. McFall was a personal friend of the Montjoys, who attended to their banking arrangements—the institution being at such a distance (full twenty miles) as rendered such aid necessary. He received their notes payable at the bank, due from merchants, collected and made payments as they directed, and having facilities, whenever they needed funds for extra service, procured for them what they wanted, either upon their own note, for which he held the business paper as security, or upon the paper itself. In the case of the fifteen hundred dollar note mentioned in the letter, he had procured the money from the bank on it alone, and held their business paper in two notes for about the same amount; these failing to be met, he was obliged to look to them for payment.

To describe the feelings of the two young men, as the alarming news broke upon them, and the calamitous consequences which it threatened, would be a vain attempt. Had an earthquake burst at mid-day, and with its convulsive quiver rocked their building, until they could see the tottering fabric parting at its joints and falling upon their devoted heads, it could not have waked up more intense, more appalling sensations. They had begun by the sweat of their brow; they had exerted every energy; they had advanced step by step; their business had grown by a natural progress; they had not forced it by speculation, nor by an undue haste to acquire wealth; they had abstained from borrowing on the names of others, and from lending their own; they had trusted to none but those who stood well in trade; their yearly gains were such as they had every reason to be contented with; and, but yesterday, they felt firm in their own strength, and buoyant with the fair prospect before them. Now their foundation is gone, and the labor of years that are past, and hope for years to come, alike vanished, as a vision, from before them.

Ned had so long been accustomed to lean upon his brother in every emergency, to have him think out a way for them, that hitherto he had never troubled himself with any further care than faithfully attending to the execution of his plans. Now he saw that the staff upon which he had leaned was broken: the pale features, the knit brow, the clammy sweat that stood upon his temples; the vacant gaze with which he looked upon the letter that lay folded in his hands, told him that James was sore dismayed, and at his wit's end.

'Let us go, Jim, and tell mother all about it.'

But Jim answered him not; he merely sighed and wiped his forehead, and then leaning forward, covered his face, as if he wished to hide even from his brother the agony that was wringing his bosom.

Oh! ye who despise the plodding toil of your daily labor, who think it drudgery to follow the plough, and handle the hoe, and reap the fields, and gather in your scanty gains, and are ashamed of the homely fare and the rude dress that these afford you, could you but have known the bitterness of that trial which was sending its pangs into the heart of that young man, you would prize more highly the freedom you have from distressing care, the independence you enjoy of either the frown or the favor of man, the quiet that is spread over all your humble enjoyments, and the peace of mind which goes with you to your rest and meets your waking thoughts. Depend upon it, that the glitter of wealth is purchased at a higher price than your imagination fancies.

Ned did not venture again to disturb his brother's meditations, and began even to hope that he was devising some plan for their rescue; but for once his clear and business intellect was at fault. The blow was so sudden, that his young mind could only suffer, without being able to wake up its energies to meet and ward off its consequences. Conscious at last that something must be done, and not sufficiently composed to know what that must be, he quietly arose, folded the letter, and placing it in his pocket—

'You are right, Ned; let us go and tell mother. She ought to know how things stand, without delay.'

It was no strange thing for these young men to make a confidant of their mother. She had accustomed them to tell her all their thoughts, and thus had they grown up beneath her fostering care; and opening, as they did to her, the fountain of their soul, she watched each bubble that came sparkling up, cleared all the dross and specks away with sweet maternal care; and still she loved to watch—it was her life's one duty; for well she knew, if all was bright and pure within the living spring, the streams must, in the end, be bright and sparkling too.

Alarmed at once by the appearance of her sons, as they entered the little room, where she sat with their sweet sister, plying their busy needles, she laid aside her task, and turning her anxious eye on James—

'What is it, my children? James, I know you are in some great trouble.'

'We are in trouble, mother, and we have thought it our duty to let you know all about it at once.' And they each took a seat beside her, while Ellen, the darling of their hearts, unused to any thing but smiles from her dear brothers, took Ned's hand in hers, and pressed it in all the warmth of her love, and wept as she looked at the calm yet serious countenance of her light-hearted brother.

In a very straight-forward way, James told his mother the news which had just been brought to them, and ended his communication by saying:

'Thus you see, mother, at one blow, is swept away all that we, have earned by our labors for these six years past; but that is not the worst of it.'

'You are afraid, my son, that it will take more than you have earned; it will leave you in debt?'

'Yes, mother, it will leave us, I fear, one thousand dollars worse than nothing, and that is not all.'

'That is bad enough, James, but I hope you cannot accuse yourselves of any wrong proceedings—any—'

'Nothing wrong, mother, that we can see; but we shall lose—we shall lose our credit, and that, mother, is worse than death.'—And Jim could stand no more; manly as he was, he covered his face, and gave way to a passionate burst of grief.

Mrs. Montjoy spoke not until the violence of it was past, and then, in a very calm and soothing way, gave such counsel as her judgment best dictated.

There is something in the tones of a mother's voice that goes at once to the heart of man. James felt the influence of her sweet words, lulling the violence of the storm within. Calmer views began to break upon him—a juster sense of the responsibility of his present situation. This was his hour of adversity, and he must act the man.

Ned, too, began to feel his heart grow lighter.

'Come, Jim, let us keep up a good heart; things may come round right at last, and if the worst happens, we can go to work again in the old garden.'

'Ah, my son, you will often think of your boyhood's days in that garden: you worked hard, but you were light-hearted and happy, although you sometimes complained of back-aches and blistered hands.'

'Mother, I tell you what,' said Ned, 'heart-aches are worse than back-aches; the one you can sleep off, the other I don't believe we can get rid of in that way.'

'Yes, brother, now that we look back upon them, those were the happiest days, I think, that you and I will ever see; but we did not think so then. Now we cannot go back; we must, therefore, as mother says, meet this trouble like men, and urge our way along the best we may. Mother, I thank you for your dear good words, they have revived my spirit'—and he stooped and kissed her. 'And now, Ned, we have a great deal to do; let us be about it.'

As soon as the brothers were alone, Jim showed that he was himself again, and in a very calm and business-like manner prepared for action.

'The first thing we must do, Ned, will be to see exactly how we stand. While you are attending to customers, I will make an abstract of our books. Then this evening, when the store is closed, we will take an account of our stock; we shall then know better our situation, and what course to pursue. We must put on a cheerful countenance, and keep straight along as usual, for to-day at any rate.'

'I don't know about the cheerful face, Jim, but I will do the best I can.'