THE WAY OF TRUTH by Cora S. Day

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 8, 1903

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 29, No. 14.

THE WAY OF TRUTH.

By Cora S. Day

[Cora S. Day, in American Messenger.]

“Now, Miss Curtis, some dictation, please,” and the business man wheeled around in his revolving chair, and pulled out the slide of his desk, ready for his stenographer's notebook. “Yes, sir,” she replied promptly, and laying aside the work over which she was busy at her own desk, she crossed the office and was soon making her nimble pencil fly, taking down in queer lines and pot-hooks, the letters her employer dictated.

Quite a bunch of them there were; for this man was the head of a large business house, and every day the mails brought many letters to be answered.

The days were filled to the utmost with work for Miss Curtis. But she was too glad to have the position with its liberal salary, to complain at the amount of work she was called upon to do, so long as it did not really overtax her strength.

Aside from the salary, she liked the position best of any she had filled. Mr. Brown was kindness and courtesy personified, and in many little ways made the rather exacting position of his stenographer a pleasant one. She often thought with relieved satisfaction, that he was agreeably different from a former employer who had told her once that he considered her in exactly the same light as he did the machine she manipulated so deftly—that she and it represented to him only the capacity for so much work; and that the thought that she might have personal views or feelings in regard to that work, had never occurred to him, until she protested against some unjust demand upon her time and services. She had resigned, at that, and was glad of it now that she had obtained this better position. Mr. Brown, too, expected her to do good and faithful work. But he did not put more into her hands than she could do without overwork; and when there came a day when there was a little less to do than usual and she finished before closing time, he very kindly suggested that she go home early.

It was rather an ideal position, she had decided in the two weeks she had been there. She hoped to hold it for a long time, and work up a thorough knowledge of the business, so that she might become more and more valuable and indispensable.

Mr. Brown picked up the tenth letter to be answered, glanced over it thoughtfully, and began to dictate as follows:— “Kirk, Freeland & Co., “Gentlemen: In reply to your letter of the 17th inst., making inquiry in regard to goods recently consigned to our house, I would say that—” and the business man went calmly on making a statement which Miss Curtis knew to be false. She paused involuntarily and glanced up.

“Too fast for you?” asked Mr. Brown pleasantly. “No, sir. But that last sentence—” and she hesitated. How could she tell him that she did not wish to write it, knowing as she did that it was not true? And yet how could she write a lie? He misunderstood her meaning. Thinking she had not heard it, he repeated the offending statement clearly.

Still she hesitated, and a little puzzled frown was between his brows as she looked up into his face again.

“But, sir,” she faltered, “that statement is not—I can not put that in—I—” and then he understood, and the puzzled frown changed to an angry one. “I alone am responsible for the statements I make in my letters. You are supposed to take anything I dictate. Shall we go on now?” in a chilling tone which she had never heard from him before.

“I can not write anything I know to be untrue, Mr. Brown,” she replied, quietly enough, altho her heart almost stifled her with its beating. She knew by the cold, sneering expression that came into his face that she had cast away her chances for any future in that position.

It was terribly embarrassing and nerve-straining. She never clearly remembered the events of the rest

of that last interview. She only knew that he asked her once more, in that freezing business tone, if she would go on with the letter, that she refused with all the dignity she could muster, and resigned her position at once, before he could tell her that her services would no longer be available; and that the bright sunshine and careless, hurrying crowds on the street seemed pitiless and mocking to her excited, despairing brain.

Was she right in her course? Or was he right in saying that she was not responsible for the truth or untruth of what he dictated? Should she have said nothing and have written and sent the letter, knowing that it contained a lie? O, if she could only have done it! It would have been so much easier all around. Mr. Brown had been so kind, she had hoped so much for the future; and now the future was spoiled and black and uncertain.

But, try as she might, she could not persuade herself that she ought to have obeyed her employer's demand. And in spite of all the trouble, she felt in her heart a tiny spark of joy that in the trial she had borne witness to the truth as best she could.

However, she was not quite satisfied with her own judgment and decision, unsupported by that of some one older and wiser than herself. She longed for a friend with whom she might talk it all over. She was rather early for lunch when she got back to her boarding-house. There was but one other person at the long table when she sat down. She was glad to miss the others, and hurried a little to get away before many more came in.

The elderly gentleman who sat opposite her place and who had spoken to her kindly when she sat down, was a minister, she had learned, who had made this quiet, select boarding-house his home for several years.

They were both silent for a few minutes. But he saw the trouble in the young face across the table; and presently he spoke, claiming the privilege of his age and profession as well as that of the quiet friendliness that had sprung up between them in their intercourse in the house.

“Has anything gone seriously wrong, my friend? Your face tells me that something troubles you,” he said very gently.

Miss Curtis looked up with a brave attempt at a smile, an attempt which nearly ended in tears. Then, almost before she realized it, she had told him the whole story.

He listened in silence until she had finished. Then he said:— “I will not ask your employer's name. But you will want another position soon, will you not?”

“As soon as I can get one, I am going to begin looking for one this afternoon,” she replied, trying to speak bravely.

“If you will allow me—if I might suggest— In fact, Miss Curtis, it strikes me that I know of a position for you, if you care to apply for it,” and he watched her face closely.

“A position! O, where?” and she flushed with eagerness and the sudden new hope.

“I have a friend, a minister, who does a great deal of literary work in addition to his pastoral duties. He wishes to engage an assistant, and is very anxious to secure just the right one at the first trial. But I think I can give you such a recommendation as will secure you the position, if you care to try for it,” and Miss Curtis thanked him from the depths of her heart and accepted his offer.

The recommendation he had promised was simply a written repetition of what she had told him and it proved a sufficient endorsement to secure the new position, which she found in time to be a most delightful one. And over and over her happy heart sang a song of joy and thankfulness, that in the hour of temptation and testing she had been given strength to choose, with the Psalmist, “the way of truth.”