Betty had become seriously ill. The doctor said she ought to go South until spring, and then take a sea voyage. I told him I didn't know where the money was coming from to do it; but the Mater reminded me that Aunt Hannah lived in Birmingham. The doctor said that would be better than up here for the time being, so the Mater wrote at once to Aunt Hannah to see if Betty could go and stay with her for a while. I would shut up the house and live with the Mater until Betty came back.

I had not yet been able to pay all the monthly bills. I had bought those toys in New York on a ten-day cash basis, so I was hard up. When I went to the bank to try to borrow $500.00 Blickens had turned me down. He had said: "You're right in the busiest time of the year now. A few days should give you all the money you need. If you can't carry yourself without the aid of the bank now, you never can."

Then, to cap the whole thing, I had received a letter from Barrington saying he'd like me to pay that $1,250.00 note, secured by a mortgage on my farm. I went to his office, and he said he wanted the thing closed up right away. It was a demand note, because, when we fixed it up, Barrington had said he wanted it to run an indeterminate time. I had expected he would carry it indefinitely, but there it was—he said he had a sudden call for the money and wanted me to pay it off.

I had caught a very bad cold, and if I had not been boss I'd have taken a good vacation. One day I went to the store, but had to come home early, I felt so sick. Jones, too, was out the same day—worse luck. His mother had called up in the morning, saying he had caught a bit of a cold, and she thought it would be much better for him to stay home till he was well. I almost wished I were a clerk for a little while, then perhaps I could stay at home and get a rest. I really felt very ill. My head was splitting.

I wonder if clerks realize how often the Boss has to work when he feels sick? Most bosses, I guess, have that feeling of responsibility for the business and the employees that I always have had, and that keeps them working when they'd be at home if they didn't have that responsibility. I remember one of the fellows who worked with me at Barlow's used to complain that Barlow got all the profit, while we got all the work—and I agreed with him at the time, poor fool that I was. We never thought that Barlow had all his money invested in the business that was providing us with a certain living. We never stopped to think that we were sure to get our money every week, whatever happened, but that Barlow had to take a chance on anything that was left. We never thought about the worry and responsibility.

I don't want to forget the workers' side of a business deal, but I never realized so much as I did then how unjust most employees are to their boss. I know many bosses are unjust to their employees and perhaps the boss is principally to blame for it, but just take my case: There was Jones threatened with a cold, so he stayed home when he could have been working just as well as not. He knew he was going to get his money on Saturday, anyway. But I was so sick I could hardly think logically; and I had to go down to the store and work.

Stigler had put on a big sale of Christmas novelties. He had bought a lot of indoor parlor games. I hadn't bought any of those; and he had a line of calendars and Christmas cards. I had never thought of putting them in. The drug store had a big stock of them, though.

Stigler was advertising extensively and was pretty busy at both the five-and-ten-cent store and at the hardware store opposite. He seemed to be doing more business than usual. Since we had had the scrap in the Élite Restaurant he had been quite polite, but somehow I feared him more than ever before. He seemed to have a cold hatred of me, and he was always going out of his way to spoil any adventure in special sales that I made.

Toys had been going very slowly with me. I had wanted to get Fellows of the Flaxon Advertising Agency to write up some ads on toys for me, but he was in the hospital, being operated on for appendicitis. I didn't know what to do.

As soon as she received the Mater's letter Aunt Hannah had telegraphed, saying she'd be delighted to have Betty visit her, and asking if I couldn't come as well. Of course I could not go, but the doctor said that Betty was well enough to travel, so it was decided that the Mater should go down with her to stay for a week or so while I looked after the house. I planned to have all my meals at the Élite Restaurant.

The day after they left I was so ill that I had to spend the whole day in the house. Larsen came around at lunch time and said he'd written up an ad on toys and had put it in the papers.

"We can't afford any money for ads," I said peevishly.

"Done now, Boss, anyhow. Don't you worry—we had quite a good day yesterday. Going to have another one to-day. You stay right in bed until you are well. We'll look after things there."

Larsen was a good sort. I saw his ad in the paper. It read like this:

Larsen told me that he had cleared away two long tables, placed them together, covered them with cheap oil cloth, and filled them up with toys, arranged in such a way that they could all be worked and handled easily."I have Jimmie keeping 'em going all the time. He is working harder, playing with them things, than he ever did in his life," he said, with a chuckle.

I couldn't help smiling at Larsen's cheeriness. He certainly had been different since we had had that dinner at home and had made Mrs. Larsen realize that I was looking after his interests as well as my own.

I thought Larsen had done quite well on that ad, although there were some things in it that I'd have changed.

He said that a lot of toys had been sold because he had them working. I had intended to do something of that kind myself, only I had felt too sick to attend to it. I remembered the big success we had had with electrical appliances when we demonstrated them in actual use.

There were only six days to Christmas! Still, if we had a good week we ought to clear those toys out.

Larsen told me Stigler's five-and-ten-cent store was packed. He thought it was a good thing for us.

"Lots of folks go there," he said, "for 5- and 10-cent things. We're next door. They come to us for better stuff."

Perhaps there was something in that, after all.