Chapter 6. What Befell Major Rodger Potter...

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER VI. WHAT BEFELL MAJOR RODGER POTTER, AND HOW HE FOUND HIMSELF OUTWITTED

KNOWING how well modesty becomes greatness, I listened with profound attention to the major's story. Every now and then he would relieve my feelings by suggesting that the most interesting part of it was yet to come. We had now pursued our journey some fifteen miles under a burning sun, when we came to a running spring, beside which the major drew up his team, and, dismounting, proceeded to fill his bucket. Having drank of the limpid water from one of his tin cups, and placed the bucket before old Battle, whom he patted with great fondness, the major next proceeded to take care of his disconsolate chickens, which for the last three miles had been keeping up an opera of discordant sounds, to his great annoyance. Uncovering his coop, which he carried at the tail of his wagon, he set two tin cups of water before them, and scattered moistened meal at their feet, enjoining them to hold their peace in the future. And while in the act of doing this, he reminded me that great men were exalted by small things, and however bemeaning the nursing of chickens might be regarded in a military man, there was in it a nobleness the great only could appreciate. The chickens, however, did not seem to appreciate his sacrifice of dignity, for they devoured their food with an increase of music. Having attended to the wants of his live stock, the major frisked round his wagon to see that his wares were all safe, and then commenced singing a song, as if a transport of joy had suddenly come over him. "I tell you what it is, my friend," said he, pausing in the middle of his tune, and drawing his favorite flask from his breast pocket, "the world 'll think none the less of us for traveling thus shabbily. There may be nothing courtly in the profession of tin-peddling, yet it is an honorable enterprise, and has its obstacles as well as other honorable enterprises." I besought him not to make himself uncomfortable on my account; that I was not yet so famous that I could not ride over the country on a tin-wagon, without feeling it a sacrifice of dignity.

We now sat down by the spring together, and proceeded to refresh ourselves with his crackers and cheese, to which I added a newly-baked pumpkin pie my mother, in the outpouring of her simplicity, had slipped into my haversack; and while regaling ourselves in this unpretending manner, the major, whose ardor was rather increased by the liquid he mixed with his water, resumed the recital of his first adventure in New York: "Being desirous of facilitating the Quaker's honesty, my companion, General Fopp, suggested an easy way of disposing of the matter. The pocket-book, he said, no doubt contained an enormous amount, which the unlucky owner would be anxious to regain as early as possible in the morning, and to that end would advertise in all the newspapers, offering a large reward to the lucky finder, as an inducement for him to preserve his honesty. The first step then would be to find a convenient place for counting the contents of the pocket-book, and considering the amount which could be properly offered the Quaker, as the reward of his honesty. So, after consulting within myself for some few minutes, I followed my companion and the Quaker into the back parlor of a cigar shop, where we carefully counted the great roll of notes, and found the amount to be exactly four thousand three hundred and twenty-two dollars, which nice little sum, together with papers of great value, showing the owner, one Henry Paterson, to be a man of large dealings in Wall-street, were entrusted to my care. My companion expressed his inability to trust himself with so large an amount of property, especially as the servants at his hotel were proverbially inclined to take liberties with other people's goods. At my request, he said he thought two hundred and fifty dollars would be a moderate consideration, since the owner would no doubt value the restoration of his property at twice that sum. I was not possessed of so large a sum; but being anxious not to wrong the Quaker, whose quiet demeanor completely won my confidence, I produced one hundred and fifty dollars, which he accepted, saying it was much more than he expected. My political companion said the air of contentment with which he accepted the reduced sum, was in every way becoming, and bespoke him a worthy gentleman. As a precaution I took a receipt for the amount, which Greely Hanniford (for such was the Quaker's name) signed, and took his departure. My companion said he would do himself the honor of calling upon me at eleven o'clock in the morning, an earlier hour being considered very unfashionable among military men. He would then, if necessary, bear testimony to the transaction. It was now twelve o'clock, and bearing me company as far as the Astor House steps, he exchanged civilities and took his departure, having first slipped a card into my hand, upon which was inscribed in neat letters, 'General Fopp, 32 Pleasant-side Row.' Pleasant-side Row being a mystery to me, I retired to bed thinking of my first night's adventure in our modern Babylon, and awoke early in the morning to regret that delay in the pursuit of my mission might cause grievous injury to the nation."

Again, we bridled old Battle, and proceeded slowly on, the sun being intense enough to dissolve both our brains, and the major cutting short the thread of his story by saying we would dine with Mrs. Trotbridge, whose house we ought to reach by high noon.

"However, it was neither here nor there," the major resumed; "I knew that no military man of any distinction could escape the formalities and ceremonies it was necessary to go through before being regularly enstated into the good graces of New York society, and so gave myself up to the policy of making the best of it. I got up, and after making divers inquiries of waiters found straying along the confused labyrinth of passages, got down stairs. My first business was to search in all the morning papers for the man of the lost treasure in my possession; I read them all only to be disappointed. Nor had the companion of my adventure remembered to have my arrival, with becoming comments, put in all the papers, as he had pledged his honor to do, having, as he said, an unlimited control over them. I carefully consulted the columns of the Herald. And though I discovered in the editor a love for sharpening up his battle-axe, and making splinters of his fellows at least twice a week, not a gleam of light was thrown upon the man whose loss I felt it in my heart would be his ruin. I contemplated the wants and anxieties of those who sought to make them known therein, and smiled at the curious manner in which a thousand ambitious individuals expressed their readiness to supply the wants of others. I turned to the Tribune. But neither in the gravely-spun philosophy of its editorials, nor among the pearls of its advertisement columns, could I find a word to relieve my anxiety. The sages who are supposed by the knowing ones to jot things down in that very consistent inconsistent journal, had likewise forgotten to mention my name; which apparent neglect much discomposed my mind. I was, however, somewhat relieved by a friend, who informed me that it was in their true spirit. One of the waiters told me with an air of great wisdom, that the Tribune never took up military men except to set them down with bruises. This waiter was a gifted Irishman, and a great politician. During a sweet little touch of a rebellion, or a famine (which are about the same) in his country, he had read the Tribune twice a day to his wife, Biddy Regan, who expressed herself delighted at the forked lightning style it then kept up in defense of the rights of her fifty first cousins.

"Eleven o'clock arrived, but no General Fopp came. Anxious to relieve myself of the treasure, I approached the highly perfumed and somewhat rotund clerk, whose bows were worth at least a quarter eagle, and related the story of my adventure to him. The jewels his shirt was bedazzled with seemed to brighten, while his face radiated smiles, in which it was not difficult to read that he set me down for a simpleton. He took the pocket-book into his hand, and saluting me by my military title, inquired how many banks my companion of the adventure proposed to start in Wall Street. Just then I remembered that the generous fellow did propose starting ten or so; and, in addition, that he pledged one half of Wall Street that, at no very distant day, I would be president of these United States.

"The clerk now smilingly counted the bills, all of which he pronounced, to my utter astonishment, on banks that existed only in the mischievous imagination of some knight of the order of vagabonds, which ruled the city, moulding things to its liking, and had fortified itself in a castle of brass. I stood as if transfixed to the floor. My reputation, my money, my hopes of a foreign mission-all were gone. I expressed my regret that the man should have so little respect for his military reputation. The clerk, however, relieved me on that point, by stating that nothing in the world was easier than to be a general in New York, and that the individual who had gained a victory over me was no doubt one of that particular species of military heroes so numerously dispersed about all the street corners of Broadway, and who now and then find it good for their health and courage to take a trip to Europe, where titles command better attention. As for the Quaker, Greely Hanniford, he was no doubt a major of the General's division.

"I was anxious to keep this matter as quiet as possible, bearing the loss like a philosopher, and forming a resolution in my mind never again to be taken in by a New York general. I observed, however, that two bearded vagabonds (such at least I took them for) in hats of priests, came suspiciously up, for the discovery made some stir, and took down all that was said. And this was, by these malicious historians, (as the polite clerk informed me they were,) put in all the afternoon newspapers. I now began to think this was what the cunning rogue meant by saying he would have my arrival recorded, with proper comments; for indeed the comments were of a character that might have satisfied a major of much more renown. One sagacious fellow, after reciting what he was pleased to set down as my political history, and the political history of all my shoemaker ancestors, at whose honest calling he tipped a sneer, as is common with the learned men of our very republican press, expressed his regret that so sharp a politician should have been made the victim of an ordinary sharper, but thought it quite likely we had been visiting temples of the unclean together, such being the favorite resorts of politicians. Another equally sagacious fellow said, that the least harmless view he could take of the matter was, that the distinguished major had permitted his political enthusiasm to carry off his discretion, and had kept hours in the company of a stranger too late to find an excuse with respectable people. A third said, the whole affair looked very suspicious; and for the character of politicians, he hoped there was quite as much innocence in the major's story as he seemed anxious to have appear on its face; but he very much doubted if such honesty was a good recommendation to one in pursuit of a foreign mission." _

Read next: Chapter 7. In Which Is Related How Pleasantly The Major Took His Misfortunes

Read previous: Chapter 5. Which Treats Of How The Major Fell Among Politicians...

Table of content of Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book