ess dragon-fly. He was
young; he was old; he was married; he was a bachelor; he was at home;
he was in his store; he was pondering campaigns of business, slicing
pennies or making daring purchases; he was retrenching; he was
advertising; but he was afraid always that he might sink in the bog of
competition with rival merchants, with creditors, debtors, bankers, with
his wife, his children, his neighbors, his ideals, his business
axioms----

"Ain't the moon pirty to-night, honey! Gee! I'm scared of that preacher!
What do I say when he says, 'Do you take this woman for your'--The
pay-roll? I can't meet it Saturday. How am I going to meet the pay-roll?
I don't see how we can sell those goods any cheaper, but we got to get
rid of 'em. My premium! My premium! I haven't paid my premium! What'll
become of the children? Three cents a yard--it's robbery! Eight cents a
yard--that's givin' it away! Don't misunderstand me, Sally. It's my way
of making love. I can't say pirty things like some folks can, but I can
think 'em. My premium--the pay-roll--so many children! Couldn't they do
without that? I ain't a millionaire, you know. Every time I begin to get
ahead a little seems like one of the children gets sick or in
trouble--the pay-roll! Three cents a yard--the new invoice--I can't buy
myself a noo soot. The doctor's bills! I ain't complaining of 'em; but
I've got to pay 'em! Let me stay home--I'd rather. I've had a hard day.
My premium! Don't put false notions in their heads! The pay-roll! Don't
scold me, honey! I got feelings, too. You haven't said a word of love
to me in years! I'll raise the money somehow. I know I'm close; but
somebody's got to be--the pay-roll--so many people depending on me. So
many mouths to feed--the children--all the clerks--the delivery-wagon
drivers--the advertising bills--the pay-roll--the children! I ain't as
young as I was--honey, don't scold me!"

The ceaseless babbling grew intolerable. Then it ceased; and the stupor
that succeeded was worse, for it meant exhaustion. The doctor grew more
grave. He ceased to talk of hope. He looked ashamed. He tried to throw
the blame from himself.

And one dreadful day he called the family together in the living-room.
Once more they were all there--all those expensively shod feet; those
well-clothed, well-fed bodies. In the chair where Pop had slumped the
doctor sat upright. He was saying:

"Of course there's always hope. While there's life there's always hope.