 | CHAPTER V. Bankrupt stories |  |
5. CHAPTER V.
WILL AFFORD A FURTHER INSIGHT INTO THE HISTORY
OF MR. TREMLETT.
IT very rarely happens that a rich man is destitute of poor
relations, for Fortune generally bestows her favors in such
a manner, that where one succeeds in scraping together a
competence there are fifty others who have no possible claim
to it, but who would nevertheless look upon themselves as
outraged individuals if he should so dispose of it at his death
as to place it entirely beyond their reach. The laws of consanguinity
we never could fully comprehend, even with the
aid of Blackstone; for as a man cannot compel his relations
by force of law to aid him in his distress, we cannot clearly
perceive why the law should give a man's possession, which
are the fruits of his own labour, to his relations when he dies.
But notwithstanding that Mr. Tremlett was notorious for his
wealth, he stood alone in the world; not a solitary cousin had
ever claimed kindred to him. Although he was descended
from a family which came over to New England soon after
the landing of the pilgrims, and had had brothers and sisters
in his younger days, he did not know of a living soul who
stood to him in a nearer relation, than that of a common descent
from an original ancestor. He felt very keenly the want
of sympathetic friends, but he had passed the age when he
could hope to gain them by marriage, and he was too wise, or
perhaps too timid, to venture upon the speculation of matrimony.
He had long nursed a determination to adopt an orphan
boy and he would probably have done so many years
our hero in his way at a fortunate moment, and his unconstrained
and spirited actions, joined to his healthy appearance
and beautiful face, made an instant impression upon the lonely
merchant's heart, as we have already seen, and his kindly
feelings manifested themselves so plainly in his looks and actions
that they immediately begot a kindred love in the boy.
And never did a young maiden experience a truer emotion of
delight on finding herself the object of some brave youth's regard,
than did the old merchant at discovering that the ragged
little urchin who, a few hours before, had endeavoured to pick
his pocket, looked up to him with feelings of love and reverence.
Although unaccustomed to act without due caution and deliberation,
he was not long in making up his mind to adopt
and educate the boy as his son. To the unreflecting this may
appear like a very hasty determination on the part of Mr.
Tremlett, but when the head and the heart are engaged in a
negotiation it requires but a marvelous short time to come to
terms.
The fond old merchant went to his counting room, after he
left the boy, with more pleasureable sensations leaping up in
his heart than if a change in the markets had doubled the
amount of his wealth. Mr. Tuck perceived an unusual
sprightliness in the manner of his partner, and his corresponding
clerk, who enjoyed the distinguished honor of writing letters
at a mahogany desk within whispering distance of his principals,
ventured to hint to a correspondent that he had reasons
for believing that there was a favorable change in the money
markets; for, that anything short of a change in the markets
could affect one of the firm of Tremlett & Tuck, had never
popped into the imagination of either the junior partner or his
corresponding clerk.
Mr. Tremlett did not remain long enough at his desk to read
even one half of the letters that were placed there for his perusal
but hurried back to his new charge where he arrived at a
chapter, and he had no sooner left the house with the boy in
his barouche than Mrs. Swazey thanked her stars very devoutly
and expressed a world of gratitude at having got rid of the
little wretch. And Bridget honestly declared that she could
not help loving him, to save her soul, although she was willing
to allow that he was too impudent to exactly suit her, but
she would allow that he was the cunningest dog that ever
lived; and then the housekeeper relented a little and confessed
that he was the most beautiful complexioned child she
had ever seen; and that his skin to be sure was as soft as
velvet, and that he did know enough. “Law now,” said
Bridget, “I do wish that I had cut off a lock of his hair; it
would look so beautiful in a broach.”
Then Mrs. Swazey desired again to be thankful that she
had plenty of relations who had as beautiful children as the
best of folks. And when Bridget ventured to make a reply
she was desired by the housekeeper to hold her tongue, and
she desired again to be thankful that she had got more important
matter to think of than brats. Indeed, Mrs. Swazey
was one of those extremely grateful persons who are continually
desiring to be thankful for the very smallest favours,
but who are, nevertheless, little disposed to take a disappointment
coolly, as less grateful people. These two ladies continued
to talk some time longer about the boy, differing in
some non-essential points, as ladies often will, both agreeing
that they were extremely fortunate in being rid of him so
easily, when to their utter consternation and dismay, Mr.
Tremlett returned in his barouche, bringing the subject of
their conversation with him, but entirely divested of his rags
and clothed in a new suit of the very latest fashion, which
Mr. Tremlett had procured at a boy's clothing emporium in
Broadway. For the first time in her life, Mrs. Swazey was
struck dumb with amazement, and when Mr. Tremlett told
her that he had determined to adopt the boy and educate him
her organs of loquaciousness with which she was well endowed
by Nature, were suddenly paralyzed and rendered
powerless. But her employer did not choose to notice her eloquent
silence, and he told her to prepare a suitable apartment
for the lad and always to treat him kindly and with respect.
And then he patted the boy upon the head, and having
charged him not to venture out of doors he returned to his
business, more conscious of having done something than if he
had purchased a dozen cargoes of sugar.
One of the last things that a woman ever thinks of doing, is
to acknowledge herself outgeneralled by a man, whether he
be her lord and master, or her master only; and, therefore, as
soon as Mrs. Swazey could collect her wits together, which
had been almost irretrievably scattered, she began to set
them to work to thrust our hero from the affection and
the premises of her employer. As to his living in the
same house with herself, she had determined he should not,
and she had no thought of quitting Mr. Tremlett's roof if it
were possible for her to remain beneath it. She saw that he
had set his heart upon the youngster and she saw the necessity
of immediate action to prevent his affection from taking
deep root; and thinking that the fond old man would, beyond
a doubt, prefer the offshot of some genteel family to the stray
lamb of an eleemosynary institute, she came to the determination
of endeavouring to counteract the influence of the boy,
by interposing the fascination of some half dozen of her own
nephews before the eyes of the merchant. Women are proverbially
quick witted, and prompt in action, and Mrs. Swazey
was epitome of her sex.
When Mr. Tremlett came home to his tea he was more
surprized than delighted to find three middle aged ladies and
seven young gentlemen, whose ages ranged from five to fifteen
all honoring him with their company to tea. Children
are always objects of interest when they are not in the presence
this occasion facetiously observed, they behave as bad as they
can, on purpose to mortify those who care any thing about
them. Now the adopted son of Mr. Tremlett having no anxious
mother to torment, and being perfectly conscious that no
body present cared a straw about him, shone out like a star of
the first magnitude among this constellation of juveniles who
were clustered together for the express purpose of putting him
in the condition of a total eclipse. This the partial eyes of
the three ladies prevented them from seeing; in fact they had
looked so long and so steadily upon their own particular stars
that they had become blind to all others, and each one felt
certain that the choice of the rich merchant would fall upon
her own cynosure, for Mrs. Swazey had explained to them in
full the cause of their being summoned together. But Mr.
Tremlett was left entirely in the dark in regard to this unusual
display of youth and innocence, and not being influenced
by any of the potent fellings which affected the visions of the
ladies, he could not fail to perceive at the first glance, the
great superiority of his newly adopted son over the whole assemblage
of prodigies.
As soon as Mr. Tremlett made his appearance, there was
an immense sensation among the ladies, and each little innocent
immediately flew to his own natural protector. The fortunate
lady who happened to be nearest the door and who
had the first chance of the merchant, was Mrs. Muzzy, a very
genteel personage in a blue turban, whose only hope, a young
gentleman nearly four feet in height, stood at her side.
“Augustus, my love,” said Mrs. Muzzy, “make a bow to
the gentleman.”
But the young Augustus put his forefinger in his mouth
and resolutely refused to move either head, hand, or foot, all of
which it was necessary to do in complying with his mother's
request.
“Gustus, darling, did you hear?” said the lady affectionately.
But Augustus made no response.
“Come Gussy, that's a dear,” continued the mother. But
still the young gentleman stood erect and refused to move.
“Augustus Muzzy, do as I bid you in an instant, or I will
skin you. Bow this instant,” said the excited mother.
But from some unaccountable reason, Augustus Muzzy appeared
to have conceived the idea that a statuesque appearance
was best suited to the occasion. Bow he wouldnot.
“Never mind, let him stand,” said Mr. Tremlett, good humouredly,
“the little fellow will come to by and by, I dare
say.”
“He shall make a bow, if I have to skin him alive,” exclaimed
the mortified Mrs. Muzzy, her face turning very red.
But her threat had not the least possible influence upon the immoveable
young gentleman; whereupon the excited lady lost all
command of her better feelings, and catching hold of her darling's
arm she dragged him into the adjoining apartment, from
which arose such a terrible sound that the company feared that
the affectionate mother was putting her dreadful menace into
execution.
The next lady who got an opportunity to show off was
Mrs. Stimson; she told her youngest boy to make a bow to
the gentleman, and quick as thought the obedient child stepped
into the middle of the floor, and rubbing up his little pug
nose with the palm of his left hand, and thrusting his right
foot behind him, he bent his body nearly double.
The other lady, Mrs. Smickels, was almost suffocated with
envy, while the happy mother of the boy smiled with ineffable
delight, and Mrs. Swazey looked upon the triumph as complete.
“Well done my little fellow,” said Mr. Tremlett, “and now
tell me your name.”
“Marquith de Lafayette Stithmson,” replied the talented
young gentleman, without the least hesitation.
“And how old are you, Marquis?” asked Mr. Tremlett.
“Eight years,” replied the miracle.
“Is it possible!” said Mr. Tremlett.
“He is not another day,” said the delighted mother; “he was
eight years old the twenty-first of last April, but I don't know
how many people have said they could not believe it.”
“He is a precious darling,” said the housekeeper; wouldn't
he love to come and live with the gentleman?”
“No I don't want to;” replied the youth.
“And why not?” asked Mr. Tremlett.
“Coth mother says you are a nathy old bachelor,” replied
the forward child.
This reply had a very sensible effect upon every person in
the room excepting the one who uttered it, and he looked
around him with the self-complacency of a man who has said
in his own opinion, one of the very best things that could be
spoken. Little did the satisfied child know the anguish
of his mother's feelings, the mortification of his aunt Swazey,
the exultation of his aunt Smickles, or the chagrin of Mr.
Tremlett, who did not like to receive such a home thrust even
from a gentleman of the dimensions of the young Marquis.
Now was Mrs. Smickles' time. She looked upon her three
darlings with the most intense delight that a mother's heart
is capable of feeling; she considered their fortunes as made,
for she had not the slightest doubt that he would adopt all
three. Her ample bosom heaved with emotion, and she could
scarcely keep the tears from her eyes. But, poor woman, she
did not reflect that as she had always allowed her children the
privilege of doing as the pleased, the chances were ten to one
that their pleasure would not coincide with her own.
“Now my dear,” said Mrs. Smickles, addressing her
youngest boy “speak to the gentleman.”
`I wont,” replied the boy.
“Do, darling;” said the indulgent mother giving the young
monster a kiss.
“I wont, I wont, I wont,” was the only reply to this kindness.
“David, dear, you speak to the gentleman,” she said, speaking
a sixpence into his hand.
“I aint agoing to for that!” replied the boy, scorning the
smallness of the bribe.
“Do dear,” said Mrs. Smickles.
“You are always trying to make me do something that I
don't want to,” replied the child, and without more ado he set
up a dismal howl.
“Don't cry dear,” said the indulgent mother; and addressing
her other darling, who was amusing himself with a backgammon
board under one of the tables, she said “Lucius, my
love, get up and speak to the gentleman.”
“What shall I say?” inquired the youngster.
“Ask him how he does, that's a sweet;” said the mother.
“Why don't you ask him yourself?” inquired the young
philosopher.
“Was there ever such torments!” exclaimed the amiable
Mrs. Smickles in a whisper to her sister Swazey.
“I shall go off the stage,” replied the agitated housekeeper,
for she perceived that all her deep-laid plans were coming to
naught.
Just at this moment tea was announced, and a scene of great
confusion followed, during which our hero behaved himself
with such perfect propriety, that he even won upon the good
will of Mrs. Swazey herself, and Mr. Tremlett was still more
favourably inclined towards him than before. Such are the
pleasing effects of contrast. If Mrs, Swazey had been religiously
bent upon advancing the interests of the little stranger
whom she meant to annihilate, she could not have hit upon a
plan for doing it more effectually than by showing him off in
contrast with such a troop of pampered young republicans as
she had summoned together for a contrary purpose.
The sight of the dainties upon the tea table dispelled all
thoughts of anything but present enjoyment from the minds
of mothers and children, and all grievances were forgotten.
“Boys,” said the indulgent Mrs. Smickle, in a hurried
whisper to her offspring, “kill yourselves, eating for it's all
you will ever get out of this house, darlings.”
As the occurrences at the tea table had no particular influence
on the fortunes of the principal personage of this history,
we will draw an oblivious veil across them, and with the
reader's permission we will here close the fifth chapter of
our history.
| CHAPTER V. Bankrupt stories | |