 | CHAPTER II. Bankrupt stories |  |
2. CHAPTER II.
CONTAINS SUNDRY ITEMS OF BUSINESS.
JOHN consulted with his lawyer, Mr. Polesworthy, in regard
to his proposed business arrangement, and that gentleman
recommended him very strongly to accept of the proposition
of Tom Tuck, for he had formed a high opinion of
his business talents, and knew that he enjoyed a reputation
for financial skill, in Wall Street, superior to that of any
young man of his age. Mr. Polesworthy, though a regular
bred lawyer, one of those who pursue classical studies four
years, but never afterwards take a classic in their hands, was
exceedingly fond of business, and did not dream that half a
million of dollars was of any other use to a young man than
as a capital for carrying on a splendid trade. Therefore, he
was quite sincere in recommending John to embark his fortune
and employ his precious time in the glorious pursuit of
wealth, by buying at a small price, and selling at high ones,
any thing that could be bought and sold whether rum and
molasses, or cambric needles and chain cables; although an ill-natured
historian, such as we are not, might insinuate that he
was influenced by a desire to bring corn to his own hopper,
as he had reasonable expectations that all the law business of
any house that his new client might belong to, would fall into
his hands. But this we should be unwilling to believe of Mr.
Polesworthy. A man of his position in society, his great
of such low motives. His very appearance would forbid
such a thought. He could have no motives for aspiring to
worldly possessions; for he was dispeptic in his habits, and
with the means of living like a prince he was compelled to
eat corn bread like a slave; his drink was water; and his
amusements consisted solely of such pleasure as might be extracted
from the occupation of overhauling bundles of old
musty papers and inspecting yellow covered volumes of law
reports; his house was furnished in the plainest manner and
its bare white walls were decorated with no flaunting works
of art; children he had none, and his wife's tastes were as
sober as his own; her sole happiness consisted in “cleaning
up,” and such littering things as flowers she would not allow
to grow near her; what could such people want of money?
It cost them nothing to live; and any one who could look
upon Mr. Polesworthy's spare form, his wrinkled face, greenish
eyes, and thread-bare clothes, and suspect him of avarice
or worldly ambition, must have a very low and strange
opinion of human nature; furthermore, he entertained no
company, and gave no gifts; his relations were all able to
take care of themselves, except a brother who was fit for nothing,
and providentially was provided for by government
with the rank and emoluments of post captain in the Navy,
which he was allowed to enjoy although he had not wet the
sole of his shoe with salt water for almost half a century. It
is true, however, that Mr. Polesworthy got all the money he
could, and kept all he got, but his motives for so doing were
quite inscruptable. He was a good lawyer, that is, a safe one,
and he had no lack of clients. John told him that it had
been his intention to relinquish to the Tucks their sister's property,
and that he would have done so had not Tom made
the proposal for joining him in business, upon which he turned
very pale and told his client that if he ever heard him intimate
such a thing again he would immediately have him
half a million of dollars! Twas a burlesque on insanity.
The maddest of all maniacs would sneer at such a
want of sense. It was a proceeding without a parallel. He
did indeed remember something about an Emperor who once
relinquished a crown to his son, or something of that sort, and
of a king who gave up his sceptre to his daughters, but he
had never put much faith in such stories, and even though
they had been true, what was power to money?
John quailed under the vehement reproof of his lawyer,
and began to think that he had been entertaining a very
wicked and ridiculous purpose, and he promised his legal
friend that he would consult him before he made any important
move in regard to his pecuniary affairs.
The search for the will was resumed, but without effect,
not a scrap of writing could be found among the papers of the
deceased merchant giving the faintest light upon the subject.
It was a strange, distressing matter, and as the chances grew
stronger and stronger that the property would slip through
John's hands, from some cause wholly unaccountable upon any
principle recognised by Christian philosophers; his friends diminished
exactly in proportion to the need he stood in of them,
instead of increasing as they should have done, in conformity
with the religious philosophy they professed to have faith in.
As for John himself, the one most concerned, he expressed and
really felt very little grief on the occasion. It was a disappointment
to him, for had been taught to look upon his father's
property as his own, and many generous dreams that he had
indulged in would never be realized, but his personal friends,
and even several editors of newspapers whom he had never
known, expressed a world of pity for him, and some even
went so far as to censure his father for his carelessness in not
executing a will when he must have known that a man of
his age was liable to be taken off at a moment's notice. But
such reflections gave great offence to the one whom they
had been, and he had no doubt that some accident had
hindered their execution, but even though his father had intentionally
left him without a dollar he could not complain;
he was already indebted to him for the recollection of a happy
youth, for a good education, and for many lessons of charity
and meekness. Let what might happen to him, the memory
of happy days in his youth was a stream of sun-shine that no
shadows could ever darken; it was beyond the reach of
chance; sickness, poverty and disgrace could not affect it;
it was a well of living waters, with an unfading margin of
verdant turf; it was a sky without a cloud; a sea without a
storm; it was a sun so bright that it cast no shadow before
him even though it shone upon his back.
In due process of time the public administrator took charge
of Mr. Tremlett's property, but John continued through the
aid of Mr. Polesworthy to retain possession of the house and
furniture, where he continued to live with Mrs. Swazey for
his house-keeper, and slept constantly in the little room next
to his father's that he had occupied during the old gentleman's
life time. He also administered upon his wife's estate, and
the balance sheet of the firm having been made out but a week
previous to Mr. Tremlett's death, and the amount due to her
uncle, carried to her credit, it was immediately paid over to
him by the public Administrator, upon his producing the
marriage certificate, which Mr. London had put into his
hands as he was leaving Charleston. So that he was in
reality precisely as wealthy as he would have been had his
father left a will and he had not been married to Julia Tuck.
Indeed, he was richer, for Mr. Tuck was worth more money
than his partner, their interest in the concern being equal, and
Mr. Tuck's personal expenses much less than Mr. Tremlett's.
Their investments had always been on joint account, and the
only difference in their interests was caused by the difference
in their manner of living. Furthermore, had Mr. Tremlett
amount to his house-keeper, and servants and
clerks; and it would have been contrary to his uniform habit
had he not bequeathed something handsome to several benevolent
institutions, among the rest the Orphan Asylum from
whence he had taken his son, to which he had given a thousand
dollars annually for a good many years; these would
have diminished the sum total that the young man would
have to receive, largely, and it would have been still farther
diminished in converting the merchandise of the firm into
cash, and collecting many large debts of foreign houses, all
of which had been taken at their full value by Mr. Tremlett
in making a division of the estate.
It is neither becoming nor necessary in a history like this
to descend to tabular statements; but on so interesting a subject
as the settlement of a large estate, a portion of our readers
may reasonably expect some definite and positive information
for we are well aware that in a community like ours, and
among a great variety of students of history such terms as
“large amounts” and “considerable sums” have no very
significant meaning, since a very large sum to a clerk in
Grand street, would be a very small amount to a broker in
Wall street; and a large fortune in Chatham Square is a
very different thing from a large fortune in Washington
Square. For the sake of precision then, and to obviate all
misunderstandings we submit to the reader the following account
of the property paid over to John Tremlett on the—
but we musn't name dates.
| Check on the Treasurer of the “Real Estate and State Stock Association,” |
$396.840.00 |
| 140 Shares of the Stock of the Crescent Fire Insurance Co. par value $50.00 |
7.000 00 |
| 100 Shares of the capital stock of the “Peoples Bank” at 100 dollars |
10.000.00 |
| 50 Shares of the capital stock of the “Grocers' Bank” at 400 dollars |
20.000.00 |
| 100 Shares of the “North American Life, Fire, Annuities and Inland Navigation Insurance and Trust Company,” at $50.00 dollars |
6.000.00 |
| 75 Shares of the “Hamilton Marine Insurance Company” at 125 dollars |
9.375.00 |
| 6 per cent Stock of the City of New York, redeemable 1920 |
35.000.00 |
| 5 per cent do 1890 | 40.000.00 |
| 5 per cent do of the State of New York, Canal Loan, | 50.000.00 |
| 120 Shares of the “Cranberry Meadow Rail Road” at 100 dollars |
12.000.00 |
| 20 Shares of the “Fever Swamp Canal” at 40 dollars | 800.00 |
| $586.015.60 |
But as these stocks would average something above ten per
cent premium in the market it will readily be perceived that
the sum total received was equal to six hundred thousand
dollars. The “Fever Swamp Canal,” and the “Cranberry
Meadow Rail Road” were at a considerable discount it is
true; but they did not reduce the average below ten per cent.
It is proper to inform the reader, lest he should doubt the
sagacity of Tremlett and Tuck, that these stocks were not
purchased by those prudent merchants, but were received by
them from a Jobber to whom they lent money the day before
he failed, and as he wanted to do the “clean thing” by his
confidential creditors, so that he might keep his head up
among fair-and-square men, he purchased these stock sat a
very great discount and paid them away at par.
The tranfers of the stocks and cash were completed; the
partnership papers were all drawn up, and the advertisements
announcing the new firm under the old name, were just going
to be sent off, when a very trifling rupture occurred which
threatened for a while to derange the entire plan. Fred Tuck
insisted that the last name of the firm should be changed into
a noun of multitude, Tucks; his brother swore it should
not. Fred swore in his turn that it should. John had no
choice in the matter. The brothers became excited, from
words they threatened blows; neither would give up, and it
being a point of not the smallest importance, it was for that
debts of honor, are contracted without any consideration being
given, and that affairs of honor spring out of the very slightest
circumstances, as we have seen one gentleman challenge
another for an insinuation, who received torrents of abuse
from others without winking; the difficulty was at last happily
settled by John proposing that it should be determined
by tossing up a penny. “Heads,” cried Fred and heads it
was; so the firm was announced as Tremlett and Tucks,
very much to the chagrin of Tom who could not endure that
any body's name should stand before his own, but he knew
it was for his interest, and he kept his dissatisfaction to himself.
We have made an important omission in the above schedule,
as regards the property of Mr. Tuck; one half of the
store in South Street, the one occupied by the firm, and the
only real estate that they held, was also assigned to Julia, but
it being real-estate it could not of course be claimed by her
husband, and it fell to her two brothers as her heirs, with the
life use of it to their mother. But this was a matter of but
little consequence to the new firm, since they could still
keep possession of it. The Brothers immediately vanished
from Wall Street and tore down their little tin sign. Tom
took possession of his uncle's old desk and arm chair, and
John, with a sad reluctant feeling took the vacant seat of his
father. The first day he sat in it he burst into tears, and
could do nothing for the remainder of the day. When he retired
at night, he spent a long time in his father's room, and
wept bitterly when he remembered that he was now without
a friend in the world, at least he felt so, and for the first time
in his life he thought seriously of his own father and mother
whom he had never known. His mother he had been told
was dead, but who she was or whence she had come he had
never known. His father, perhaps he might still be alive,
and he might yet discover him. Wearied at last, and overcome
went to bed. But he could not sleep; he extinguished his
candle but his brain was too busy to slumber; all the incidents
of his life were crowding themselves unbidden before
him, a long, long, distance back farther than he had ever been
able to see before, they seemed like regular links in a chain,
one dragging the other; the most minute events of his childhood
appeared as distinct as though they had been occurrences
of the day before; his buffetings at the Asylum, his escape,
his detection by Mr. Tremlett, his drowning sensations
when he was upset in the river; they all appeared as real
as though he were at the moment experiencing them; back,
back he went in his career until nothing could be seen beyond;
a dismal, vapory barrier closed up the prospect. “O, Heavenly
Father,” he sighed, “that I could but have caught a
glimpse of my mother's face!” As he said this he turned upon
his side, and saw again his good old father gazing upon
him with the same happy, calm, contented look. But he was
not alone. A female figure accompanied him; she was robed
in white, and her long hair fell in bright luxuriance over her
shoulders; her eyes were blue, and they gazed earnestly upon
him, but her face was not like his father's, serene and happy;
it looked unquiet and it distressed him. No word was spoken,
but he knew that it was his mother. But was she not happy?
No, he knew that she was not. As they gazed upon him, his
blood grew chill and yet his heart beat with violence; his
eye balls ached as though they would burst, he grew numb,
his senses reeled, he forgot himself, he seemed to struggle to
free himself from a strange influence, at last the spell was
broken; he opened his eyes; it was broad day and his celestial
visitors had disappeared.
This last appearance troubled him sorely. He now knew
that it was no hallucination, and he grew very serious. To
turn from an interview with the spirits of departed friends
and mingle in the helter-skelter pursuits of a commercial life
one near and dear, to whose ear and heart he could entrust
the secrets that oppressed him. He knew not what these
visitations might mean; but he hesitated to take counsel of
the world, for he knew that he would meet with derision and
contempt, if he should reveal the secret of his visitants. His
spirits were sad, and he felt but little inclination to bear his
share in the business he had undertaken. But when he walked
out in the bright sun, and felt the fresh air, and saw
around him so much of life, of activity and apparent enjoyment,
and above him the pure blue sky and the glorious
white clouds sailing in their majesty and vapory beauty, he
forgot his melancholy feelings, and long before he had reached
his counting room, the hearty and cheerful salutations of
the multitude of acquaintances that he met, the hurried gait
of all whom he encountered, and the fresh external aspect of
every thing he saw, completely chased from his thoughts
every vestige of the unsubstantial, yet real forms that had
stood by his bed-side the night before.
| CHAPTER II. Bankrupt stories | |