"'I can only speak what is true,' he said modestly but firmly; how difficult he found it to utter that short sentence, but how thankful was he when he had done so!" "'You must obey what I order, or march out of my shop!' exclaimed the master, his face reddening with passion." "It was a great relief to my father that customers entering at the moment broke short the conversation; and he was truly glad that he was able, before they left, without having swerved in the least from truth, to make a considerable addition to the money in the till. It seemed as though Providence were helping him through the difficulties which he had boldly faced in obedience to duty." "And did he always keep firm?" asked Walter. "Always; he never even gave an equivocal answer." "Then I suppose that his master turned him off." "He threatened to do so more than once, but was too much a man of the world not to know when he had a good servant; and my father was so active and intelligent, so regular in his accounts, so ready on all occasions to oblige, that even his master could not but be aware of his value. As with Joseph, everything seemed to prosper in his hand, and having nothing to find fault with except his religion, even the ungodly man learned to respect his assistant." "There is an influence, sometimes unknown to ourselves, which we exert either for good or evil amongst those with whom we live. Had my father been austere, proud, or self-righteous, he might, in attempts to convert Tim Sands, have driven him farther from the path of salvation. But my father's kindness and cheerfulness gradually won for him the regard of his fellow-shopman. Sands began by laughing at, but ended by looking up to him. It was not easy, indeed, to draw the youth's attention to anything serious; in vain one of the little counsellors in gold and blue had been purposely placed in his way—he had never got beyond the title page of it, and it was soon thrown aside for a dirty novel." "One Sunday evening, after a wet, cold day, Sands, who, much against his will, had been kept from his usual diversions by the weather, saw my father preparing to leave the house." "'I say, Viner,' cried he, 'are you going out for a walk? I see that the sky is clearing up at last. I think that I'll take a turn with you—that is, if you are not going to church again, you'll not draw me in for that!'" "'I am not going to church, but to pass the evening with some friends.'" "'Old Methodists, I suppose, grave and solemn.'" "'No, young and lively,' answered my father." "'Well, I say, there's no knowing what you good people are after! So you spend your Sunday evenings amid jovial companions! I've half a mind to go with you and see your friends. Had it not rained cats and dogs, I should have been at Greenwich with mine.'" "'Come, and welcome,' said my father, with a smile."