"Buy some candy?" said Katy to the first gentleman she met.  
He did not even deign to glance at her; and five or six attempts to sell a stick of candy were failures; but when she remembered the success that had followed her disappointment in the morning, she did not lose her courage. Finding that people in the street would not buy, she entered a shop where the clerks seemed to be at leisure, though she did not do so without thinking of the rude manner in which she had been ejected from a store in the forenoon.
 
"Buy some candy?" said she to a good-natured young gentleman, who was leaning over his counter waiting for a customer.
 
"How do you sell it?"
 
"Cent a stick; it is very nice. I sold fourteen sticks of it to the mayor this forenoon. He said it was good."
 
"You don't say so? Did he give you a testimonial?"
 
"No; he gave me half a dollar."
 
The clerk laughed heartily at Katy's misapprehension of his word, and his eye twinkled with mischief. It was plain that he was not a great admirer of molasses candy, and that he only wanted to amuse himself at Katy's expense.
 
"You know what they do with quack medicines—don't you?"
 
"Yes, I do; some folks are fools enough to take them," replied Katy, smartly.
 
"That's a fact; but you don't understand me. Dr. Swindlehanger, round the corner, would give the mayor a hundred dollars to say his patent elixir is good. Now, if you could only get the mayor's name on a paper setting forth the virtues of your candy, I dare say you could sell a thousand sticks in a day. Why don't you ask him for such a paper?"
 
"I don't want any paper, except to wrap up my candy in. But you don't want to buy any candy, I see;" and Katy moved towards some more clerks at the other end of the store.
 
"Yes, I do; stop a minute. I want to buy six sticks for my children!"
 
"For what?"
 
"For my grandchildren."
 
"You are making fun of me," said Katy, who could see this, though the young man was so pleasant and so funny, she could not be offended with him. "I don't believe your mother would like it, if she should hear you tell such a monstrous story."
 
The young man bit his lip. Perhaps he had a kind mother who had taught him never to tell a lie, even in jest. He quickly recovered his humor, however, though it was evident that Katy's rebuke had not been without its effect.
 
"For how much will you sell me six sticks?" continued the clerk.
 
"For six cents."
 
"But that is the retail price; when you sell goods at wholesale you ought not to ask so much for them."
 
"You shall have them for five cents then," replied Katy, struck with the force of the suggestion.
 
"I can't afford to give so much as that. I am a poor man. I have to go to the theater twice a week, and that costs me a dollar. Then a ride Sunday afternoon costs me three dollars. So you see I don't have much money to spend upon luxuries."
 
"I hope you don't go out to ride Sundays," said Katy.
 
"But I do."
 
"What does your mother say to it?"
 
The clerk bit his lip again. He did not like these allusions to his mother, who perhaps lived far away in the country, and had taught him to "remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy." Very likely his conscience smote him, as he thought of her and her blessed teachings in the far-off home of his childhood.
 
"I will give you two cents," said the clerk.
 
"I can't take that; it would hardly pay for the molasses, to say nothing of firewood and labor."
 
"Call it three cents, then."
 
"No, sir; the wholesale price is five cents for six sticks."
 
"But I am poor."
 
"You wouldn't be poor if you saved up your money, and kept the Sabbath. Your mother——"
 
"There, there! that's enough. I will take a dozen sticks!" exclaimed the young man, impatiently interrupting her.
 
"A dozen?"
 
"Yes, a dozen, and there are twelve cents."
 
"But I only ask ten."
 
"No matter, give me the candy, and take the money," he replied, fearful, it may be, that she would again allude to his mother.
 
Katy counted out the sticks, wrapped them up in a paper, and put the money in her pocket. If she had stopped at the door to study the young man's face, she might have detected a shadow of uneasiness and anxiety upon it. He was a very good-hearted, but rather dissolute, young man, and the allusions she had made to his mother burned like fire in his heart, for he had neglected her counsels, and wandered from the straight road in which she had taught him to walk. If she could have followed him home, and into the solitude of his chamber, she could have seen him open his desk, and write a long letter to his distant mother—a duty he had too long neglected. We may not follow the fortunes of this young man, but if we could, we might see how a few words, fitly spoken, even by the lips of an innocent youth; will sometimes produce a powerful impression on the character; will sometimes change the whole current of a life, and reach forward to the last day of existence.
 
Katy, all unconscious of the great work she had done, congratulated herself on this success, and wished she might find a few more such customers. Glancing into the shop windows as she passed along, to ascertain whether there was a good prospect for her, she soon found an inviting field. It was a crockery ware store that she entered this time, and there were several persons there who seemed not to be very busy.
 
"Buy some candy?" said she, presenting the tray to the first person she met.
 
"Go home and wash your face," was the ill-natured response.
 
Was it possible she had come out with a dirty face? No; she had washed herself the last thing she had done. It is true her clothes were shabby, there was many a patch and darn upon her dress, and its colors had faded out like the "last rose of summer;" but then the dress was clean.
 
"Buy some candy?" said she to another, with a sudden resolution not to be disturbed by the rudeness of those she addressed.
 
He took a stick, and threw down a cent, without a word. One more did her a similar favor, and she left the store well satisfied with the visit. Pretty soon she came to a large piano-forte manufactory, where she knew that a great many men were employed. She went up-stairs to the counting-room, where she sold three sticks, and was about to enter the work-room, when a sign, "No admittance except on business," confronted her. Should she go on? Did the sign refer to her? She had business there, but perhaps they would............