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The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter, a novel by F. Colburn Adams |
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Chapter 33. Which Relates How The Major Dropped The Title Of Major... |
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_ CHAPTER XXXIII. WHICH RELATES HOW THE MAJOR DROPPED THE TITLE OF MAJOR, AND TOOK THAT OF GENERAL; ALSO, HOW HE JOINED THE YOUNG AMERICAN BANKING HOUSE OF PICKLE, PRIG, & FLUTTER
"When we had taken supper together, he renewed the conversation, which finally resulted in his saying that a person so popular as myself was just such a one as they wanted for partner in their house. Inquiring what I thought of the matter, he said he would propose it to the firm, and to-morrow make me a proposal. He also suggested, that if I would drop the Major, and assume the title of General-a thing done every day by the greatest of politicians-the effect would be equal to a large amount of capital. Generals stood well in Wall Street; generals were excellent men (when endorsed by bishops) to send abroad to effect loans; generals were capital fellows to get well out of a financial collapse; in fact, generals were just the men to get through any sort of difficulty. Society bowed to a general; the people were charmed by a general; a general was every thing to a Young American Banking House like that of Pickle, Prig, & Flutter. No matter how visionary your scheme, you had only to tie a general to it, and success was certain. If you could buy up a newspaper or two, so much the better, for then the general would appear as editor, and be prepared, as was the custom of the day, to praise every scheme they were engaged in. I thought the offer very kind of Mr. Pickle, since my affairs were in a financial collapse; and on the following day met his partners, at their banking house, which was an exceedingly stylish affair. The result was, I became a partner in the concern-a silent partner, with the name and title of General Roger Sherman Potter, Prig holding it good policy to retain the Sherman, that being a name of great weight in the banking world. "The consummation of this being announced in all the newspapers, it was ordered that I occupy a seat in the office at an immense mahogany desk, at least three hours a day. I was to have all the daily papers duly filed at my hand, and to appear immersed in a pile of correspondence, just received per various foreign arrivals. If a customer strayed to me, I was to refer him to Flutter, who was the polite man of the firm, and generally sat in an enclosure of highly polished walnut railings, at a desk, upon which lay an enormous ledger he was for ever footing up, and which he at times left with great reluctance. Sometimes I was directed to refer the customer to a foreign gentleman who sat demurely at a desk in a corner, engaged in filling up foreign bills of exchange. In leaving unnoticed much that the house did, I may mention that it soon got into an extensive credit; for Flutter, who was a man of extremely good looks and dress, kept two of the best looking and most expensive female companions in Twenty-third Street, while Prig had a stud of seven horses, not one of which could be beat at Harlem; and these qualifications were excellent passports into the credit of the banking world of Wall Street. In truth, Flutter would frequently say, that the very hue and circumstance of their establishment was such as to make an impression upon, and secure the confidence of, the most flinty hearted banker; and as love of show was the malady of the nation, you must make the plaster to suit. "Pickle was engaged most of the time in outdoor operations, and left to Prig and Flutter the sole management of the exchanges. And both being extremely generous men, and fast enough for any thing, they soon made a large circle of friends, whose paper they were ready to endorse out of sheer love. I had money enough for all my wants, and began to think myself the happiest of men. It was also deemed advisable, and for the advantage of the house, that I should go to board at the Astor. So, rubbing out the old score, I left my humble lodgings at Mrs. Pickle's, and returned to my old quarters, where, on seeing the quality of my pocket, I soon got in high favor with the landlord, and gave dinners to my friends. We went on swimmingly for nearly a year, and the Young American Banking House of Pickle, Prig, Flutter, & Co., it got rumored on the street, had been wonderfully prosperous. I sent my wife, Polly Potter, enough to live like a lady, and all the village began to say she was an excellent person, and our children played with the children of the best of them. One day, a short time after we had been drawing no end of bills, and selling largely of foreign exchange, there came back upon us such a large amount of returned paper as completely drove Flutter out of sight, while Prig said he held it advisable not to be seen at the counter. Twenty-four hours passed, and he also was not to be found. Poor Pickle got nervous, and turned pale, and offered all the excuses his ingenuity could invent to save himself from a cage with bars. Curses came like thunder claps upon the head of the house, but it was all to no effect. We had no balance in the bank, and cursing money out of a dead banking house, it seemed to me, was as useless an occupation as trying to get goods out of the custom house without feeing an employé of that very accommodating asylum for idlers and rogues. The house thought it advisable to shut up, which it did by posting a notice to that effect upon the door. For myself, I felt like making my peace with my Maker, and enjoining him to send me some less perplexing mission; for the thing got into the newspapers, and we were held up to be a set of impostors, who deserved to be well hanged. "And then Wall Street got into a strong frenzy, raised a cry of holy horror that such miscreants had been suffered to pollute the atmosphere of its righteousness; to preserve which its votaries were ready to call in all the bishops and priests of the land; though not a word was said of the many who had ransomed their backslidings with the tears of widows they had induced to invest in divers schemes. But to make the matter worse, it was found that Flutter, who was skilled in caligraphy, and could imitate the signatures of others to perfection, had raised a large amount of money on a species of collateral that proved to be worthless, though excellent as illustrating his skill in imitation. In truth, Flutter could manufacture first class paper with a degree of perfection rarely excelled. As neither Flutter nor Prig were to be found, and all attempts to solve the mystery of their ancestry proved futile, poor Pickle was arrested, called a miscreant, and all sorts of evil names; but was declared innocent by a jury of his peers, though his trial made a great noise, and there were enough unkind enough to say he ought to get twenty-one years in the penitentiary. Sly insinuations were also cast out about me; but they were coupled with so much courtesy, that as I had made nothing by the concern, I proceeded straight to the Astor, explained the state of my distress to the landlord, who indulged his disappointment with a few regrets, but at length said I ought to thank heaven it was no worse. He said he would wait for the little affair between us, hoping that fortune would so smile on me as to hasten the pay day. The Young American Banking House of Pickle, Prig, Flutter, & Co., being at an end, I held it prudent to give up my mission to Washington, (I had received news that my chances were slender,) and get quickly and quietly to my wife Polly, who at first thought I had come to take her and the family to live among the fine folks of New York, and was sorely grieved when the truth came out, but soon embraced me like a good wife. And together we lived as happily as could be desired, (I made calf brogans at twenty cents a pair,) until I went to the Mexican War, where, by my merit and bravery, I soon won my way to distinction." _ |