The Parent's Assistant Part 54

Not one of the little Neapolitan merchants would either enter into partners.h.i.+p with him, give him credit, or even trade with him for ready money.--'If you would cheat your own father, to be sure you will cheat us,' was continually said to him by these prudent little people.

Piedro was taunted and treated with contempt at home and abroad. His father, when he found that his son's _smartness_ was no longer useful in making bargains, shoved him out of his way whenever he met him. All the food or clothes that he had at home seemed to be given to him grudgingly, and with such expressions as these: 'Take that; but it is too good for you. You must eat this, now, instead of gourds and figs--and be thankful you have even this.'

Piedro spent a whole winter very unhappily. He expected that all his old tricks, and especially what his father had said of him in the market-place, would be soon forgotten; but month pa.s.sed after month, and still these things were fresh in the memory of all who had known them.

It is not easy to get rid of a bad character. A very great rogue[25] was once heard to say, that he would, with all his heart, give ten thousand pounds for a good character, because he knew that he could make twenty thousand by it.

[25] Chartres.

Something like this was the sentiment of our cunning hero when he experienced the evils of a bad reputation, and when he saw the numerous advantages which Francisco's good character procured. Such had been Piedro's wretched education, that even the hard lessons of experience could not alter its pernicious effects. He was sorry his knavery had been detected, but he still thought it clever to cheat, and was secretly persuaded that, if he had cheated successfully, he should have been happy. 'But I know I am not happy now,' said he to himself one morning, as he sat alone disconsolate by the sea-sh.o.r.e, dressed in tattered garments, weak and hungry, with an empty basket beside him. His fis.h.i.+ng-rod, which he held between his knees, bent over the dry sands instead of into the water, for he was not thinking of what he was about; his arms were folded, his head hung down, and his ragged hat was slouched over his face. He was a melancholy spectacle.

Francisco, as he was coming from his father's vineyard with a large dish of purple and white grapes upon his head, and a basket of melons and figs hanging upon his arm, chanced to see Piedro seated in this melancholy posture. Touched with compa.s.sion, Francisco approached him softly; his footsteps were not heard upon the sands, and Piedro did not perceive that any one was near him till he felt something cold touch his hand; he then started, and, looking up, saw a bunch of ripe grapes, which Francisco was holding over his head.

'Eat them; you'll find them very good, I hope,' said Francisco, with a benevolent smile.

'They are excellent--most excellent, and I am much obliged to you, Francisco,' said Piedro. 'I was very hungry, and that's what I am now, without anybody's caring anything about it. I am not the favourite I was with my father, but I know it is all my own fault.'

'Well, but cheer up,' said Francisco; 'my father always says, "One who knows he has been in fault, and acknowledges it, will scarcely be in fault again." Yes, take as many figs as you will,' continued he; and held his basket closer to Piedro, who, as he saw, cast a hungry eye upon one of the ripe figs.

'But,' said Piedro, after he had taken several, 'shall not I get you into a sc.r.a.pe by taking so many? Won't your father be apt to miss them?'

'Do you think I would give them to you if they were not my own?' said Francisco, with a sudden glance of indignation.

'Well, don't be angry that I asked the question; it was only from fear of getting you into disgrace that I asked it.'

'It would not be easy for anybody to do that, I hope,' said Francisco, rather proudly.

'And to me less than anybody,' replied Piedro, in an insinuating tone, '_I_, that am so much obliged to you!'

'A bunch of grapes and a few figs are no mighty obligation,' said Francisco, smiling; 'I wish I could do more for you. You seem, indeed, to have been very unhappy of late. We never see you in the markets as we used to do.'

'No; ever since my father beat me, and called me rogue before all the children there, I have never been able to show my face without being gibed at by one or t'other. If you would but take me along with you amongst them, and only just _seem_ my friend for a day or two, or so, it would quite set me up again; for they all like you.'

'I would rather _be_ than seem your friend, if I could,' said Francisco.

'Ay, to be sure; that would be still better,' said Piedro, observing that Francisco, as he uttered his last sentence, was separating the grapes and other fruits into two equal divisions. 'To be sure I would rather you would _be_ than _seem_ a friend to me; but I thought that was too much to ask at first, though I have a notion, notwithstanding I have been so _unlucky_ lately--I have a notion you would have no reason to repent of it. You would find me no bad hand, if you were to try, and take me into partners.h.i.+p.'

'Partners.h.i.+p!' interrupted Francisco, drawing back alarmed; 'I had no thoughts of that.'

'But won't you? can't you?' said Piedro, in a supplicating tone; '_can't_ you have thoughts of it? You'd find me a very active partner.'

Francisco still drew back, and kept his eyes fixed upon the ground. He was embarra.s.sed; for he pitied Piedro, and he scarcely knew how to point out to him that something more is necessary in a partner in trade besides activity, and that is honesty.

'Can't you?' repeated Piedro, thinking that he hesitated from merely mercenary motives. 'You shall have what share of the profits you please.'

'I was not thinking of the profits,' said Francisco; 'but without meaning to be ill-natured to you, Piedro, I must say that I cannot enter into any partners.h.i.+p with you at present; but I will do what, perhaps, you will like as well,' said he, taking half the fruit out of his basket; 'you are heartily welcome to this; try and sell it in the children's fruit-market.' 'I'll go on before you, and speak to those I am acquainted with, and tell them you are going to set up a new character, and that you hope to make it a good one.'

'Hey, shall I! Thank you for ever, dear Francisco,' cried Piedro, seizing his plentiful gift of fruit. 'Say what you please for me.'

'But don't make me say anything that is not true,' said Francisco, pausing.

'No, to be sure not,' said Piedro; 'I _do_ mean to give no room for scandal. If I could get them to trust me as they do you, I should be happy indeed.'

'That is what you may do, if you please,' said Francisco. 'Adieu, I wish you well with all my heart; but I must leave you now, or I shall be too late for the market.'

CHAPTER II

_Chi va piano va sano, e anche lontano._ Fair and softly goes far in a day.

Piedro had now an opportunity of establis.h.i.+ng a good character. When he went into the market with his grapes and figs, he found that he was not shunned or taunted as usual. All seemed disposed to believe in his intended reformation, and to give him a fair trial.

These favourable dispositions towards him were the consequence of Francisco's benevolent representations. He told them that he thought Piedro had suffered enough to cure him of his tricks, and that it would be cruelty in them, because he might once have been in fault, to banish him by their reproaches from amongst them, and thus to prevent him from the means of gaining his livelihood honestly.

Piedro made a good beginning, and gave what several of the younger customers thought excellent bargains. His grapes and figs were quickly sold, and with the money that he got for them he the next day purchased from a fruit-dealer a fresh supply; and thus he went on for some time, conducting himself with scrupulous honesty, so that he acquired some credit among his companions. They no longer watched him with suspicious eyes. They trusted to his measures and weights, and they counted less carefully the change which they received from him.

The satisfaction he felt from this alteration in their manners was at first delightful, to Piedro; but in proportion to his credit, his opportunities of defrauding increased; and these became temptations which he had not the firmness to resist. His old manner of thinking recurred.

'I make but a few s.h.i.+llings a day, and this is but slow work,' said he to himself. 'What signifies my good character, if I make so little by it?'

Light gains, and frequent, make a heavy purse,[26] was one of Francisco's proverbs. But Piedro was in too great haste to get rich to take time into his account. He set his invention to work, and he did not want for ingenuity, to devise means of cheating without running the risk of detection. He observed that the younger part of the community were extremely fond of certain coloured sugar-plums, and of burnt almonds.

[26] Poco e spesso empie il l' orsetto.

With the money he had earned by two months' trading in fruit he laid in a large stock of what appeared to these little merchants a stock of almonds and sugar-plums, and he painted in capital gold coloured letters upon his board, 'Sweetest, largest, most admirable sugar-plums of all colours ever sold in Naples, to be had here; and in grat.i.tude to his numerous customers, Piedro adds to these "Burnt almonds gratis."'

This advertis.e.m.e.nt attracted the attention of all who could read; and many who could not read heard it repeated with delight. Crowds of children surrounded Piedro's board of promise, and they all went away the first day amply satisfied. Each had a full measure of coloured sugar-plums at the usual price, and along with these a burnt almond gratis. The burnt almond had such an effect upon the public judgment, that it was universally allowed that the sugar-plums were, as the advertis.e.m.e.nt set forth, the largest, sweetest, most admirable ever sold in Naples; though all the time they were, in no respect, better than any other sugar-plums.

It was generally reported that Piedro gave full measure--fuller than any other board in the city. He measured the sugar-plums in a little cubical tin box; and this, it was affirmed, he heaped up to the top and pressed down before he poured out the contents into the open hands of his approving customers. This belief, and Piedro's popularity, continued longer even than he had expected; and, as he thought his sugar-plums had secured their reputation with the _generous public_, he gradually neglected to add burnt almonds gratis.

One day a boy of about ten years old pa.s.sed carelessly by, whistling as he went along, and swinging a carpenter's rule in his hand. 'Ha! what have we here?' cried he, stopping to read what was written on Piedro's board. 'This promises rarely. Old as I am, and tall of my age, which makes the matter worse, I am still as fond of sugar-plums as my little sister, who is five years younger than I. Come, Signor, fill me quick, for I'm in haste to taste them, two measures of the sweetest, largest, most admirable sugar-plums in Naples--one measure for myself, and one for my little Rosetta.'

'You'll pay for yourself and your sister, then,' said Piedro, 'for no credit is given here.'

'No credit do I ask,' replied the lively boy; 'when I told you I loved sugar-plums, did I tell you I loved them, or even my sister, so well as to run in debt for them? Here's for myself, and here's for my sister's share,' said he, laying down his money; 'and now for the burnt almonds gratis, my good fellow.'

'They are all out; I have been out of burnt almonds this great while,'

said Piedro.

'Then why are they in your advertis.e.m.e.nt here?' said Carlo.

'I have not had time to scratch them out of the board.'

'What! not when you have, by your own account, been out of them a great while? I did not know it required so much time to blot out a few words--let us try'; and as he spoke, Carlo, for that was the name of Piedro's new customer, pulled a bit of white chalk out of his pocket, and drew a broad score across the line on the board which promised burnt almonds gratis.

'You are most impatient,' said Piedro; 'I shall have a fresh stock of almonds to-morrow.' 'Why must the board tell a lie to-day?' 'It would ruin me to alter it,' said Piedro. 'A lie may ruin you, but I could scarcely think the truth could.' 'You have no right to meddle with me or my board,' said Piedro, put off his guard, and out of his usual soft voice of civility, by this last observation. 'My character, and that of my board, are too firmly established now for any chance customer like you to injure.' 'I never dreamed of injuring you or any one else,' said Carlo--'I wish, moreover, you may not injure yourself. Do as you please with your board, but give me my sugar-plums, for I have some right to meddle with those, having paid for them.' 'Hold out your hand, then.'

'No, put them in here, if you please; put my sister's, at least, in here; she likes to have them in this box: I bought some for her in it yesterday, and she'll think they'll taste the better out of the same box. But how is this? your measure does not fill my box nearly; you give us very few sugar-plums for our money.' 'I give you full measure, as I give to everybody.' 'The measure should be an inch cube, I know,' said Carlo; 'that's what all the little merchants have agreed to, you know.'

'True,' said Piedro, 'so it is.' 'And so it is, I must allow,' said Carlo, measuring the outside of it with the carpenter's rule which he held in his hand. 'An inch every way; and yet by my eye--and I have no bad one, being used to measuring carpenter's work for my father--by my eye, I should think this would have held more sugar-plums.' 'The eye often deceives us,' said Piedro. 'There's nothing like measuring, you find.' 'There's nothing like measuring, I find, indeed,' replied Carlo, as he looked closely at the end of his rule, which, since he spoke last, he had put into the tin cube to take its depth in the inside. 'This is not as deep by a quarter of an inch, Signor Piedro, measured within as it is measured without.'