The Humors of Falconbridge Part 2

"You will see to the repair of the fences, that they be built high and strong, and you will take special care _of the old Black Bull_."

There was a general pause; a silent mystery overspread the community; the moderator dropped the paper to a "rest," and gazing over the top of his gla.s.ses for several minutes, n.o.body saying a word.

"Repair the fences!" muttered the moderator at length.

"Build them strong and high!" echoed Deacon Potter.

"Take special care _of the old Black Bull!_" growled half the meeting.

Then another pause ensued, and each man eyed his neighbor in mute mystery.

A tall and venerable man now arose from his seat; clearing his voice with a hem, he spoke:

"Brethren, you seem lost in the brief and eloquent words of our learned adviser. To me nothing could be more appropriate to our case. It is just such a profound and applicable reply to us as we should have hoped and looked for, from the learned and good man, John Bulkley. The direction to repair the fences, is to take heed in the admission and government of our members; we must guard the church by our Master's laws, and keep out stray and vicious cattle from the fold! And, above all things, set a trustworthy and vigilant watch over that old black bull, who is the devil, and who has already broken into our enclosures and sought to desolate and lay waste the fair grounds of our church!"

The effect of this interpretation was electrical. All saw and _took_ the force of Mr. Bulkley's cogent advice, and unanimously resolved to be governed by it; hence the old black bull was put _hors du combat_, and the church preserved its union!

Dobbs makes "a Pint."

Dobbs walked into a _Dry Goodery_, on Court street, and began to look around. A double _jinted_ clerk immediately appeared to Dobbs.

"What can I _do_ for you, sir?" says he.

"A good deal," says Dobbs, "but I bet you won't."

"I'll bet I will," says the knight of the yard-stick, "if I _can_."

"What'll you bet of that?" says the imperturbable Dobbs.

"I'll bet a fourpence!" says the clerk, with a cute _nod_.

"I'll go it," says Dobbs. "Now, trust me for a couple of dollars' wuth of yur stuffs!"

"_Lost_, by Ned!" says yard-stick. "Well, there's the fourpence."

"Thank you; call again when I want to _trade!_" says Dobbs.

"Do, if you please; wouldn't like to lose your custom," says the clerk, "no how."

Polite young man that--as soon as his chin vegetates, provided his d.i.c.key don't cut his throat, he'll be arter the gals, Dobbs thinks!

Used Up.

I am tempted to believe, that few--very few men can start in the world--say at twenty, with a replete invoice of honesty, free and easy--kind, generous--good-natured disposition, and keep it up, until they greet their fortieth year. There are, doubtless, plenty of men--I hope there are, who _would_ be entirely and perfectly generous-hearted, if they _could_, with any degree of consistency; and I know there are mult.i.tudes who wouldn't exhibit an honorable or manly trait, of any human description, if they could. That cla.s.s thrive best, it appears to me--if the acc.u.mulation of dollars and dimes be Webster, Walker, or Scriptural interpretation of that sense--in this sublunary world.

Meanness and dishonesty win what good nature and honesty lose, hence the more thrift to the former, and the less gain, pecuniarily considered, to the latter. The subject is very prolific, and as my present purpose is as much to point a humorous _sketch_ as to adorn a _moral_, I needs must cut speculative philosophistics for facts, in the case of my friend John Jenks, an emphatic--"used up" good fellow.

Jenks started in this world with a first-rate opinion of himself and the rest of mankind. No man ever started with a larger capital of good nature, human benevolence, and common honesty, than honest John. Few men ever started with better general prospects, for "a good time," and plenty of it, than Jenks. He _graduated_ with honor to himself and the Inst.i.tute of his native State, and with but little knowledge beyond the college library and the social circles of his immediate friends. At twenty-three, John Jenks went into business on his own hook.

Of course John soon formed various and many business acquaintances; he learned that men were brothers--should love, honor, and respect one another, from precepts set him at his father's fireside. He formed the opinion, that this brotherhood was not to be alienated in matters of business, for he never refused to act kindly to all; he freely loaned his _autograph_ and purse to his business acquaintances; but, being backed up by a snug business capital, he seldom felt the necessity of claiming like accommodation, or he would have gotten his eye teeth cut cheaper and sooner.

"Jenks," said a business man, stopping in at Jenks' counting room one September morning, "Perkins & Ball, I see, have _stopped_--gone to smas.h.!.+"

"Have they?" quickly responded Jenks.

"They have, and a good many fingers will be burnt by them," replied the informant. "By the way, Barclay says you have some of their _paper_ on hand; is it true?" continued the man.

"I have some, not much," answered Jenks--"not enough at all events to create any alarm as to their willingness or ability to take it up."

But in looking over his "accounts," Jenks found a considerably larger amount of Perkins & Ball's _paper_ on hand, than an experienced business man might have contemplated with entire Christian resignation. The gazette, in the course of a few days, gave publicity to the _smash_ of the house of Perkins, Ball & Co. There was a buzz "on 'change;" those losers by the _smash_ were bitter in their denunciatory remarks, while those gaining by the transaction snickered in their sleeves and kept mum. Jenks heard all, and said nothing. He reasoned, that if the firm were _smashed_ by imprudences, or through dishonest motives, they were getting "an elegant sufficiency" of public and private vituperation, without his aid. Though far from his thoughts of entering into such "lists," and inclined to hold on and see how things come out--Jenks, for the credit of common humanity, seldom recapitulated the amount, by discounting, &c.--he was likely to be _in_ for, if P. & B. were really "done gone." This resolve, like some _rules_, worked both ways.

As "honest John" was drawing on his gloves to leave his commercial inst.i.tution, after the above occurrences had had some ten days' _grace_; one evening, the senior partner of the house of Perkins & Ball came in.

Greetings were cordial, and in the private office of Jenks, an hour's discourse took place between the merchants; which, in brief transcription, may be summed up in the fact, that Jenks received a two-third indemnification on all _his_ liabilities _for_ the _smashed_ house of P. & B., which the senior partner a.s.sured him, arose from the fact of his, Jenks', gentlemanly forbearance in not joining the clamor against them, in the adverse hour, nor pus.h.i.+ng his claims, when he had reason to believe that they were down; quite down at the heel. Jenks "hoped" he should never be found on the wrong or even doubtful side of humanity, gentlemanly courtesy, or Christian kindness; they shook hands and parted; the senior partner of the exploded firm requesting, and Jenks agreeing, to say every thing he could towards sustaining the honor of the house of P. & B., and recreating its now almost extinguished credit. Those who fought the bankrupt merchants most got the least, and because Jenks preserved an undisturbed serenity, when it was known that he was as deeply a loser, they supposed, as any one, they were staggered at his philosophy, or amused at his extreme good nature. This latter result seemed the most popular and accepted notion of Jenks' character, and proved the ground-work of his pecuniary destruction.

The firm of Perkins & Ball crept up again; Jenks had, on all occasions, spoken in the most favorable terms of the firm; he not only freely endorsed again for them, but stood their _referee_ generally. In the meantime, Jenks' celebrity for good nature and open-heartedness had drawn around him a host of patrons and admirers. Jenks' name became a circulating medium for half his business acquaintances. If Brown was short in his cash account, five hundred or a thousand dollars----

"Just run over to Jenks'," he'd say to his clerk; "ask him to favor me with a check until the middle of the week." It was done.

"Terms--thirty days with good endorsed paper," was sufficient for the adventurous Smith to _buy_ and depend on Jenks' _autograph_ to _secure_ the goods. When in funds, Bingle went where he chose; when a little _short_, Jenks had his patronage. Jenks kept but few memorandums of acts of kindness he daily committed; hence when the evil effects of them began to revolve upon him--if not mortified or ashamed of his "bargains," he at least was astounded at the results. Brown, whose due bills or memorandums Jenks held, to the amount of seven thousand dollars, accommodation _loans_, took an apoplectic, one warm summer's day, after taking a luxurious dinner. Jenks had hardly learned that Brown's affairs were p.r.o.nounced in a state of deferred bankruptcy, when the first rumor reached him that Smith had _bolted_, after a heavy transaction in "woolens"--Jenks his princ.i.p.al endorser--Smith not leaving a.s.sets or a.s.signs to the amount of one red farthing.

"By Jove!" poor Jenks muttered, as he tremulously seated himself in his back counting room--"that's shabby in Smith--very shabby."

The next morning's Gazette informed the community that Bingle had failed--liabilities over $200,000--prospects barely giving hopes of ten per cent, all around; and even this hope, upon Jenks' investigation, proved a forlorn one; by a _modus operandi_ peculiar to the heartless, self-devoted, _they_ got all, Jenks and the _few_ of his ilk, got nothing!

For the first time in his life, Jenks became pecuniarily moody. For the first time, in the course of his mercantile career, of some six years, the force of reflection convinced him, that he had not acted his part judiciously, however "well done" it might be, in point of honor and manliness.

The next day Jenks devoted to a scrutiny of his accounts in general with the business world. He found things a great deal "mixed up;" his balance-sheet exhibited large surplusages acc.u.mulated on the score of his leniency and good nature; by the credit of those with whom he held business relations. A council of war, or expediency, rather,--_solus_, convinced Jenks, he had either mistaken his business qualifications, or formed a very vague idea of the soul--manners and customs of the business world; and he broke up his council, a sadder if not a wiser man.

"By Jove, this is discouraging; I'll have to do a very disagreeable thing, very disagreeable thing: _make an a.s.signment!_"

"Who'd thought John Jenks would ever come to that?" that individual muttered to himself, as he proceeded to his hotel. And ere he reached his plate, at the tea-table, a servant whispered that a gentleman with a message was out in the "office" of the hotel, anxious to see Mr. Jenks.

"Mr. Jenks--John Jenks, I believe, sir?" began the person, as poor Jenks, now on the _tapis_ for more ill news, approached the person in waiting.

"Precisely, that's my name, sir," Jenks responded.

"Then," continued the stranger, "I've disagreeable business with you, Mr. Jenks; _I hold your arrest!_"

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed Jenks; "my arrest? What for?"

"There's the writ, sir; you can read it."