Other Eyes Are on You

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 8, 1909

Other Eyes Are on You

“THERE, that will do,” said John as he took a shovelful of ashes out of the stove. “The pan isn’t empty, but it is near enough; nobody will see it. If I can get the store swept in five minutes, I can finish that story before any one comes.”

The store was swept very much as the stove had been cleaned. The open spaces presented a good appearance, but out-of-the-way corners and the places underneath boxes and barrels told a different story. However, John thought it was “good enough.” The story was finished, and the paper hidden out of sight before the clerks arrived. Then Mr. Willis, the proprietor, came in, bade them all “good morning,” glanced around the store, and went into his private office. Presently he called John. “Take these letters to the office as soon as you can. They will be just in time for the nine-o’clock post. Come right back.”

John hurried to the office as he had been bidden, but having deposited the letters safely, saw no reason for haste. Indeed, he even indulged in a game of marbles before returning to his work. When he entered the store again, Mr. Willis made no comment on his tardiness, but remarked: “Well, John, I’ve almost learned my lesson.”

John stared. “What lesson, sir?” “Why, the one you’ve been teaching me.”

John was more puzzled than ever, and all day long he wondered what lesson he could possibly teach Mr. Willis. The next morning John’s work was done speedily, and no better than the day before. Mr. Willis came before the clerks, and sent John out on an errand. While he was gone, the gentleman, with a quiet smile, began to investigate the corners that John thought “nobody would see.” When he returned, Mr. Willis said: “John, I told you yesterday I had almost learned my lesson. To-day I know it thoroughly. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have been teaching me how well I can get along without you. I thought the stove needed cleaning and the store sweeping every morning, but it seems they do not. So I shall not need you any longer than this week.”—Oriental Watchman.