The Root of All Evil

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER IX

  _The Iron Rod_

  There were more reasons than one for the first gush of customers toJeckie Farnish's smart new shop. One of them George Grice had foreseenas soon as his eyes fell on the golden teapot and the new sign novelty.Folk would always go to whatever was fresh, he said; only time wouldtell if the influx of trade to the new-comer would be kept up. But ofother reasons he knew little. One was that he himself was unpopular inthe village; he had abused his monopoly; more than once he had refusedtemporary credit to old customers who wanted it for a week or afortnight until funds came in; he had a bad reputation for over-readyrecourse to the County Court; he had sold up one man for a debt whichmight have been paid by instalments; he charged top prices foreverything, and was not overscrupulous as to weights and measures. Atleast two-thirds of the village population found it a thing of joy toturn cold shoulders to the old firm and walk defiantly into theopposition establishment.

  But there was another reason for Jeckie's popularity of which Grice knewless than he guessed at the second of the causes of his sudden loss oftrade. Jeckie was becoming a strategist; quick to see and realise thepossibilities of her campaign, and astute in looking ahead. And two daysbefore the formal opening of her shop she marched up the village in herbest clothes, her cheque-book in one pocket, and well-filled purse inthe other, bent on doing something which, in her well-grounded opinion,would establish her in high favour. Farnish owed money in Savilestowe;she was going to pay his debts. Not the big ones, to be sure, she saidto herself with emphasis; they could go by the board. The money-lenderand the landlord and such-like could whistle for their money as far asshe was concerned. But the debts in the village were small things--a fewpounds here, a few there; a few shillings in one case, a few more inothers. Thirty pounds, she had ascertained, would cover the lot. Theblacksmith wanted something, and the miller, and the landlord of the"Coach-and-Four"; two or three people wanted the reimbursement of moneylent; there were even labourers to whom Farnish was in debt for smallamounts. All this she was going to clear off; otherwise, as she wellknew, she would have had the various creditors coming to her shop andsuggesting that they should take out the amount of their debts in teaand sugar, bread and bacon.

  She turned in first at the blacksmith's, who, it being Saturdayafternoon, was smoking his pipe at the door of his house and enjoyingthe cool breezes which swept over the meadows in front. Under theimpression that Jeckie had come touting for custom, he received hergrumpishly, and eyed her with anything but favour.

  "Now then, Stubbs!" said Jeckie, in her sharpest manner. "My father owesyou some money, doesn't he?"

  "Aye, he does!" growled the blacksmith. "Nine pound odd it is, and beenowin' a long time. An' I would like to see t'colour on it, or some onit; it's hard on a man to tew and slave and loise his brass at t'end o'his labours!"

  "You're going to lose naught," retorted Jeckie. "Get inside and write mea receipt. I'll pay you. And you'll understand 'at it's me 'at's payin'you--not him! He's naught to pay you with, as you very well know. But Ireckon it'll none matter to you who pays, as long as you get it!"

  "Aw, why, now then!" said the mollified creditor. "That's talkin', thatis! No, it none matters to me. An' I tak' it very handsome o' you; and Iwish yer well wi' t'shop, and I shall tell my missus to go theer."

  "You'll find I can do better for you than Grice ever did," said Jeckie,as she followed him into his cottage and drew out her cheque-book."You'll save money by coming to me. There's a price-list. You look itover and you'll see 'at I'm charging considerably less nor Grice does,and for better quality goods, too."

  "Now, then, ye shall have my custom!" said the blacksmith. "I'm stalledo' George Grice. He's nowt but a skinflint, and we had some bacon thro'him none so long sin' at wor fair reisty."

  Jeckie handed over her cheque and took her receipt, and went on her way.It was a way of triumph, for not one of Farnish's Savilestowe creditorshad ever expected to get a penny of what was owing, and unexpectedpayments, however much they may be overdue, are always more welcome thanthe settlement of a debt which is certain. Jeckie went away from eachsatisfied creditor conscious that she had made a friend and a regularcustomer; she had laid out twenty-eight pounds and some shillings by thetime she returned home. Never mind, she said to herself, she would soonhave it back in profits. And Farnish would now be able to walk abroad inthe village, knowing that he owed nothing to any fellow-villager. As tohis bigger creditors, let them go hang!

  During the week, furniture, just sufficient to satisfy mere necessities,had arrived at the house, and had been disposed in certain rooms byJeckie and Rushie, and on the Saturday night, acting on his daughter'sorders, Farnish, having finished his week's work at the Sicastergreengrocer's, came creeping into the village after dark, cast a longingeye on the red-curtained windows of the "Coach-and-Four," and slunk intohis daughter's back premises. His spirits had been very low during thishome-coming; they rose somewhat on seeing that a thirteen-gallon cask ofale stood in the pantry adjoining the kitchen in which his supper wasset for him, but became anxious and depressed again when he also sawthat the key had been carefully removed from the brass tap. He foresawthe beginning of strict allowance, and of ceaseless scheming on his partoccasionally to gain possession of that key. Now and then, he thought,Jeckie would surely forget it, and go out without it. It was painful, inFarnish's opinion, to ask a man to live in the house with a locked beerbarrel and led to exacerbation of proper feelings.

  Jeckie gave him a pint of ale and a hot supper that night, and presentedhim with a two-ounce packet of tobacco. And, when Rushie had gone intothe scullery to wash up the supper things, she marshalled Farnish into acertain easy chair by the corner of the hearth, and proceeded to laydown the law to him in no purposeless fashion.

  "Now then, I want to have some talk to you," she said, sitting downopposite him and folding her hands in her apron. "We're going to startout in a new way, and everybody about me's going to hear what I've gotto say about it. You'll understand that this is my house, and my shop,and my business--all mine! I'm master!--and there'll nobody have any sayin matters but me. Do you understand that?"

  "Oh, aye, I understand that, reight enough, Jecholiah, mi lass,"answered Farnish. "Of course I never expected no other, considerin' howthings is. And I'm sure I wish you well in t'venture!"

  "I shall do well enough as long as I'm boss!" said Jeckie in her mostmatter-of-fact manner. "And that I will be! I'll have no interference,either from you or Rushie. As long as you're both under my roof, you'lljust do my bidding. And now I tell you what you'll do. You may as wellknow your position first as last. And to start with, I've paid offevery penny 'at you owed i' this place--nearly thirty pounds good moneyI've laid down in that way this very afternoon!--so you can walk upt'street and down t'street and feel 'at you owe naught to nobody. Andyou'll have a deal o' walking to do, for you can't expect me to throw mymoney away on your behalf wit'out doin' something for me i' return, sothere!"

  "I'm sure it were very considerate on yer, Jecholiah," said Farnishhumbly. "An' I tak' it as very thoughtful an' all. Willn't deny 'at itwere a sore trouble to me 'at I owed brass i' t'place. An' what mightyou be thinkin' o' puttin' me to, now 'at I am here, like?"

  "I'm going to tell you," answered Jeckie. "All's ready to open on Mondaymorning. Me and Rushie'll attend to the shop; Bartle'll go out with thehorse and cart; I've got a strong lass coming in that'll see to thehouse and the cooking. You'll help wi' odd jobs in the shop, and you'llcarry out light goods and parcels in t'village. It'll none be such heavywork, but it must be done punctual and reg'lar--no hangin' about andtalkin' at corners, and such like--we've all got to work, and to workhard, too!"

  "I'm to be fetcher and carrier, like," said Farnish. "Aye, well, milass, it's not t'sort o' conclusion to a career 'at I aimed at, but Imun bow down to Providence, as they call it. Beggars can't be choosers,no how!"

  "Who's talkin' about beggars!" retorted Jeckie impatiently. "There's nobeggars i' this house, anyway
. Beggars, indeed! You'll never ha' beenso well off in your life as you will be wi' me!"

  "Do you say so, Jecholiah?" asked Farnish timidly. "I'm very glad tohear it, I'm sure. How shall I stand, like, then?"

  "You'll stand like this," replied Jeckie. "There's a good andcomfortable bedroom all ready upstairs; this place'll be morecomfortable nor aught we had at Applecroft when all's put to rights init; there'll always be plenty to eat, and good quality, too; I shall letyou have two pints of beer a day, and give you two ounces of tobaccoevery Saturday. And once a year you shall have a new suit of goodclothes, and your underwear as it wants replacing. I'll see 'at you wantfor naught to fill your belly and cover your back. If that isn't doingwell by you, then I don't know what is!"

  "Well, I'm sure it's very handsome, is that, Jecholiah," said Farnish."It's seems as if I were to be well provided for i' t'way o' food andraiment. But how will it be now"--he paused, and looked at hisdaughter's erect and rigid figure with a furtive depreciatingglance--"how will it be now, mi lass, about a bit o' money? Ye wouldn'thev your poor father walkin' t'street wi'out one penny to rub agenanother, I'm sure? A man, ye see, Jecholiah, has feelin's!"

  Jeckie's lips tightened. It had been her intention, in laying down acode of rules to Farnish, to tell him that he was not going to havemoney. But as he spoke, a thought came into her mind--if she kept himpenniless, he would certainly do one of two things, possibly both;either he would borrow small sums here or there, or he would pilfer fromthe till and pocket payments from chance customers. Once more she mustlook ahead.

  "I'll tell you what I'll do," she said suddenly. "I'll give you--" thenshe paused, made some more reflections and calculations, and reckoned upto herself what precise amount of mischief Farnish could do with theamount she was thinking of--"I'll give you seven shilling a week forspending money--I know well enough there's naught on earth'll stop youfrom dropping in at t' 'Coach-and-Four,' and a shilling a day's enough,and more than enough, for you to waste there. But I'll give you fairwarning--if I hear o' you borrowing any money, or running into debt, att' 'Coach-and-Four,' or elsewhere, or hanging about publics when youought to be at your job, I shall stop your allowance--and so there youare!" Farnish, on his part, made a swift calculation. A shilling a daymeant three pints of ale at fourpence a pint. He was to have two pintsat home--very well, five pints would do nicely. He waved a magisterialhand.

  "Now, then, ye shall have no cause to complain, Jecholiah," he said."It's as well to know how we stand, d'ye see, mi lass? It's none so mucht'bit o' money," he continued, still more magisterially, "it's what youmay term t'principle o' t'thing. A man mun stand by his principles, andit's agen mine to walk about t'world wi' nowt i' my pocket! It's agent'Bible, an' all, Jecholiah, as you may ha' noticed i' readin' that goodowd Book--there's two passages i' that there 'at comes to my reflectionat once. 'Put money in thy purse,' it says i' one place, and 'Thelabourer is worthy of his hire' it remarks in another. An' I wor browtup to Bible principles--mi mother were a very religious woman--she werea chappiler!"

  "I don't believe it says aught at all i' t'Bible about puttin' money i'your purse," said Jeckie contemptuously, "and if your mother was asreligious as you make out, she should ha' taught you something 'at isthere--'Owe no man anything!' Happen you never heard o' that?"

  "Now, then, now then!" answered Farnish. "Let's be friendly! There's adeal said i' t'Bible 'at hes dark meanin's--I've no doubt 'at t'realsignificance o' that passage is summat 'at ye don't understand, milass."

  "I understand 'at nobody's going to run up debts while they're under myroof," declared Jeckie. "You get that into your head!"

  Farnish retired to his comfortable bedroom that evening apparently wellsatisfied with his position, and when he had left them Jeckie turned toher sister; it was as necessary to have a proper understanding withRushie as with their father. And Rushie was amenable enough; theprospect of selling things in the smart new shop, and of conversationswith customers, and of all the varying incidents in a day's retailtrading, appealed to her love of life and change. Jeckie's proposals asto finding her with board, lodging, and all she wanted in the way ofclothes and shoe-leather, and giving her a small but sufficient salary,satisfied her well. But at the end of their talk they hit on adifference of opinion.

  "And now about that Herbert Binks," said Jeckie suddenly. "He's afteryou, Rushie, and you're a fool. He's naught but a draper's assistant,when all's said and done. I'll none have him coming here. What do youwant wi' young men?"

  Rushie began to pout and to look resentful.

  "He's a very nice, quiet, respectable young man, is Herbert," she said,half angrily. "And if he is a draper's assistant, do you think he'salways going to be one? He has ambitions, has Herbert, and he aims athaving a shop of his own."

  "Let him get one, then, before he comes running after you!" retortedJeckie. "Young men of his age has no business to think about girls--whatthey want to think about is making money."

  "Money isn't everything!" said Rushie.

  "Isn't it?" sneered Jeckie. "You'll sing another tune, my lass, whenyou've seen as much as I have! I know what money's meant to me, and whatit's going to mean, and I'll take good care none goes by me so long asI've ten fingers to lay hold of it with!"

  It needed no observation on the part of Rushie or of Farnish to see thatJeckie had made up her mind to seek the riches of this world. She was upwith the sun, and still out of her bed long after the others had soughttheirs; she did the work of three people, and never allowed herself toflag. She taught herself book-keeping, and practised correspondence tillshe could write smart business letters; before long she purchased atypewriter and mastered its intricacies; she had no time to read thelocal newspaper any longer, but she read the "Grocer" with eagerness andavidity, and became as glibly conversant with prices as any of thetravellers who called on her for orders. A sharp, shrewd woman she wasto deal with, said the gentlemen amongst themselves; sharper, far, thanold Grice across the way, and certain to rob him of most of his trade.And some of them, who did little business with him, and could wellafford to be shyly mutinous at his expense, were not slow to poke fun atGeorge about his rival and her capabilities.

  "Sad thing for you, Mr. Grice," they would say, with a wink at thegolden teapot on which the sun contrived to focus its rays all day long."Smart woman across there, sir!--ah, great pity you couldn't amalgamatethe two businesses, Mr. Grice. Doing well over there, sir, Ibelieve--knows what she's about! Place too small to carry two goodbusinesses like yours and hers, Mr. Grice--ought to come to somearrangement, sir--limited liability company now, Mr. Grice, what?"

  All this was so much gall and wormwood to George Grice, who had anadditional cause of intense and mortifying annoyance in a certain habitof Jeckie's which, he said, could only have been developed by a womanwho was both a Jezebel and a devil. Every now and then, in the fulllight of day, Miss Farnish would leave her own shop, stroll calmlyacross the street, and insolently and leisurely inspect George Grice &Son's newly-dressed windows. She would note down all their prices on ascrap of paper--and then she would go back. And within half-an-hour thesame goods which Grice's were offering would be in the Farnishwindows--with all the prices cut down to figures which made Georgedespairing and furious.