Timothy Crump's Ward

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES THE CRUMPS.
IT was drawing towards the close of the last day of the year. A few
hours more, and 1836 would be no more.
It was a cold day. There was no snow on the ground, but it was frozen
into stiff ridges, making it uncomfortable to walk upon. The sun had
been out all day, but there was little heat or comfort in its bright,
but frosty beams.
The winter is a hard season for the poor. It multiplies their
necessities, while, in general, it limits their means and
opportunities
of earning. The winter of 1836-37 was far from being an exception to
this rule. It was worse than usual, on account of the general
stagnation
of business.
In an humble tenement, located on what was then the outskirts of New
York, though to-day a granite warehouse stands on the spot, lived
Timothy Crump, an industrious cooper. His family consisted of a wife
and one child, a boy of twelve, whose baptismal name was John, though
invariably addressed, by his companions, as Jack.
There was another member of the household who would be highly offended
if she were not introduced, in due form, to the reader. This was Miss
Rachel Crump, maiden sister of Uncle Tim, as he was usually
designated.
Miss Rachel was not much like her brother, for while the latter was a
good-hearted, cheerful easy man, who was inclined to view the world in
its sunniest aspect, Rachel was cynical, and given to misanthropy.
Poor
Rachel, let us not be too hard upon thy infirmities. Could we lift
the veil that hides the secrets of that virgin heart, it might be,
perchance, that we should find a hidden cause, far back in the days
when
thy cheeks were rounder and thine eyes brighter, and thine aspect not
quite so frosty. Ah, faithless Harry Fletcher! thou hadst some hand in
that peevishness and repining which make Rachel Crump, and all about
her, uncomfortable. Lured away by a prettier face, you left her to
pass
through life, unblessed by that love which every female heart craves,
and for which no kindred love will compensate. It was your
faithlessness
that left her to walk, with repining spirit, the flinty path of the
old
maid.
Yes; it must be said--Rachel Crump was an old maid; not from choice,
Page 2
Timothy Crump's Ward
but hard necessity. And so, one by one, she closed up the avenues of
her
heart, and clothed herself with complaining, as with a garment. Being
unblessed with earthly means, she had accepted the hearty invitation
of her brother, and become an inmate of his family, where she paid
her board by little services about the house, and obtained sufficient
needle-work to replenish her wardrobe as often as there was occasion.
Forty-five years had now rolled over her head, leaving clearer traces
of
their presence, doubtless, than if her spirit had been more cheerful;
so that Rachel, whose strongly marked features never could have been
handsome, was now undeniably homely.
Mrs. Crump, fortunately for her husband's peace, did not in the least
resemble her sister-in-law. Her disposition was cheerful, and she had
frequent occasion to remonstrate with her upon the dark view she took
of life. Had her temper been different, it is very easy to see that
she
would have been continually quarrelling with Rachel; but, happily, she
was one of those women with whom it is impossible to quarrel. With
her broad mantle of charity, she was always seeking to cover up and
extenuate the defects of her sister-in-law, though she could not help
acknowledging their existence.
It had been a hard winter for the cooper. For a month he had been
unable
to obtain work of any kind, and for the two months previous he had
worked scarcely more than half the time. Unfortunately for him, his
expenses for a few years back had kept such even pace with his income,
that he had no reserved fund to fall back upon in such a time as this.
That was no fault of his. Both he and his wife had been economical
enough, but there are a great many things included in family
expenses--rent, fuel, provisions, food, clothing, and a long list of
sundries, besides; and all these had cost money, of which desirable
article Uncle Tim's trade furnished not a very large supply.
So it happened that, as tradesmen were slow to trust, they had been
obliged to part with a sofa to defray the expenses of the month of
December. This article was selected because it was best convertible
into
cash,--being wanted by a neighbor,--besides being about the only
article
of luxury, if it could be called such, in possession of the family. As
such it had been hardly used, being reserved for state occasions; yet
hardly had it left (sic) the the house, when Aunt Rachel began to
show signs of ext