Off Hand Sketches, a Little Dashed with Humour

T >> T.S. Arthur >> Off Hand Sketches, a Little Dashed with Humour

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"How are you to-day?" said Jenkins, smiling.

"Very well. How are you?"

"So, so."

Then came a pause.

"Business rather dull," remarked Jenkins.

"Very," replied Gooding, with a serious face, and more serious tone
of voice. "Nothing at all doing. I never saw business so flat in my
life."

"Flat enough."

Another pause.

"Ahem! Mr. Jenkins," began Gooding, after a few moments, "do you
think you can do any thing for me to-day?"

"If there is any thing I can do for you, it shall be done with
pleasure," said Jenkins, in a cheerful way. "In what can I oblige
you?"

"You remember, you said that in all probability you would be able to
spare me as much as fifty dollars to-day?"

"_I_ said so?" Jenkins asked this question with an appearance of
real surprise.

"Yes. Don't you remember that we were riding home one evening, about
two months ago, and I called your attention to the old account
standing between us, and you promised to pay it soon, and said you
thought you could spare me fifty dollars about the time my quarter's
rent became due?"

"Upon my word, friend Gooding, I have no recollection of the
circumstance whatever," replied Jenkins with a smile. "It must have
been some one else with whom you were riding. I never said I owed
you any thing, or promised to pay you fifty dollars about this
time."

"Oh, yes! but I am sure you did."

"And I am just as sure that I did not," returned Jenkins, still
perfectly undisturbed, while Gooding, as might be supposed, felt his
indignation just ready to boil over. But the latter controlled
himself as best he could; and as soon as he could get away from the
store of Jenkins, without doing so in a manner that would tend to
close all intercourse between them, he left and returned to his own
place of business, chagrined and angry.

On the same evening, as Gooding was riding home, he saw Jenkins
ahead of him on the road. He soon overtook him. Jenkins turned his
usual smiling face upon his old creditor, and said, "Good evening,"
in his usual friendly way. The invitation to get up and ride, that
was always given on like occasions, was extended again, and in a few
moments the two men were riding along, side by side, as friendly, to
all appearance, as if nothing had happened.

"Jenkins, how could you serve me such a scaly trick as you did?"
Gooding said, soon after his neighbour had taken a seat by his side.
"You know very well that you promised to pay my claim; and also
promised to give me fifty dollars of it to-day, if possible."

"I know I did. But it was out of my power to let you have any thing
to-day," replied Jenkins.

"But what was the use of your denying it, and making me out a liar
or a fool, in the presence of your clerk?"

"I had a very good reason for doing so. My clerk would have been a
witness to my acknowledgment of your whole claim against me, and
thus make me liable before I was ready to pay it. As my head is
fairly clear of the halter, you cannot blame me for wishing to keep
it so. A burnt child, you know, dreads the fire."

"But you know me well enough to know that I never would have pressed
the claim against you."

"Friend Gooding, I have seen enough of the world to satisfy me that
we don't know any one. I am very ready to say to you, that your
claim shall be satisfied to the full extent, whenever it is in my
power to do so; but a legal acknowledgment of the claim I am not
willing to make. You mustn't think hard of me for what I did to-day.
I could not, in justice to myself, have done any thing else."

Gooding professed to be fully satisfied with this explanation,
although he was not. He was very well assured that Jenkins was
perfectly able to pay him the three hundred dollars, if he chose to
do so, and that his refusal to let him have the fifty dollars,
conditionally promised, was a dishonest act.

More than a year passed, during which time Gooding made many
fruitless attempts to get something out of Jenkins, who was always
on the best terms with him, but put him off with fair promises, that
were never kept. These promises were never made in the presence of a
third person, and might, therefore, have just as well been made to
the wind, so far as their binding force was concerned. Things grew
worse and worse with Gooding, and he became poorer every day, while
the condition of Jenkins as steadily improved.

One rainy afternoon, Gooding drove up to the store of his old
friend, about half an hour earlier than he usually left for home.
Jenkins was standing in the door.

"As it is raining, I thought I would call round for you," he said,
as he drew up his horse.

"Very much obliged to you, indeed," returned Jenkins, quite well
pleased. "Stop a moment, until I lock up my desk, and then I will be
with you."

In a minute or two Jenkins came out, and stepped lightly into the
wagon.

"It is kind in you, really, to call for me," he said, as the wagon
moved briskly away. "I was just thinking that I should have to get a
carriage."

"It is no trouble to me at all," returned Gooding, "and if it were,
the pleasure of doing a friend a kindness would fully repay it."

"You smell strong of whisky here," said Jenkins, after they had
ridden a little way, turning his eyes toward the back part of the
wagon as he spoke. "What have you here?"

"An empty whisky-hogshead. This rain put me in mind of doing what my
wife has been teasing me to do for the last six months--get her a
rain-barrel. I tried to get an old oil-cask, but couldn't find one.
They make the best rain-barrels. Just burn them out with a flash of
good dry shavings, and they are clear from all oily impurities, and
tight as a drum."

"Indeed! I never thought of that. I must look out for one, for our
old rain-hogshead is about tumbling to pieces."

From rain-barrels the conversation turned upon business, and at
length Gooding brought up the old story, and urged the settlement of
his claim as a matter of charity.

"You don't know how much I need it," he said. "Necessity alone
compels me to press the claim upon your attention."

"It is hard, I know, and I am very sorry for you," Jenkins replied.
"Next week, I will certainly pay you fifty dollars."

"I shall be very thankful. How soon after do you think you will be
able to let me have the balance of the three hundred due me. Say as
early as possible."

"Within three months, at least, I hope," replied Jenkins.

"Harry! Do you hear that?" said Gooding, turning his head toward the
back part of the wagon, and speaking in a quick, elated manner.

"Oh, ay!" came ringing from the bunghole of the whisky-hogshead.

"Who the dickens is that?" exclaimed Jenkins, turning quickly round.

"No one," replied Gooding, with a quiet smile, "but my clerk, Harry
Williams."

"Where?"

"Here," replied the individual named, pushing himself up through the
loose head of the upright hogshead, and looking into the face of the
discomfited Jenkins, with a broad smile of satisfaction upon his
always humorous phiz.

"Whoa, Charley," said Gooding, at this moment reining up his horse
before the house of Jenkins.

The latter stepped out, with his eyes upon the ground, and stood
with his hand upon the wagon, in thought, for some moments; then
looking up, he said, while the humour of the whole thing pressed
itself so full upon him, that he could not help smiling,

"See here, Gooding, if both you and Harry will promise me never to
say a word about this confounded trick, I will give you a check for
three hundred dollars on the spot."

"No, I must have four hundred and twenty-six dollars, the principal
and interest. Nothing less," returned Gooding firmly. "You have
acknowledged the debt in the presence of Mr. Williams, and if it is
not paid by to-morrow twelve o'clock, I shall commence suit against
you. If I receive the money before that time, we will keep this
little matter quiet; if suit is brought, all will come out on the
trial."

"As you please," said Jenkins angrily, turning away, and entering
his house.

Before twelve o'clock on the next day, however, Jenkins's clerk
called in at the store of Gooding, and paid him four hundred and
twenty-six dollars, for which he took his receipt in full for all
demands to date. The two men were never afterward on terms of
sufficient intimacy to ride in the same wagon together. Whether
Gooding and his clerk kept the matter a secret, as they promised, we
don't know. It is very certain, that it was known all over town in
less than a week, and soon after was told in the newspapers, as a
most capital joke.

A SHOCKING BAD MEMORY.

"MUST I give up every thing?" asked Mr. Hardy of his lawyer, with
whom he was holding a consultation as to the mode and manner of
getting clear of certain responsibilities in the shape of debt.

"Yes, every thing, or commit perjury. The oath you have taken is
very comprehensive. If you keep back as much as ten dollars, you
will swear falsely."

"Bad--bad. I have about seven thousand dollars, and I owe twenty
thousand. To divide this among my creditors, gives them but a small
sum apiece, while it strips me of every thing. Is there no way, Mr.
Dockett, by which I can retain this money, and yet not take a false
oath? You gentlemen of the bar can usually find some loop-hole in
the law out of which to help your clients. I know of several who
have gone through the debtors' mill, and yet not come forth
penniless; and some of them, I know, would not be guilty of false
swearing."

"Oh yes, the thing is done every day."

"Ah, well, how is it done?"

"The process is very simple. Take your seven thousand dollars, and
make it a present to some friend, in whom you can confide. Then you
will be worth nothing, and go before the insolvent commissioners and
swear until you are black and blue, without perjuring yourself."

"Humph! is that the way it is done?" said Mr. Hardy.

"The very way."

"But suppose the friend should decline handing it back?"

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "You must take care
whom you trust in an affair of this kind. At worst, however, you
would be just as well off, assuming that your friend should hold on
to what you gave him, as you would be if you abandoned all to your
creditors."

"True, if I abandon all, there is no hope of, even getting back a
dollar. It is the same as if I had thrown every thing into the sea."

"Precisely."

"While, in adopting the plan you propose, the chances for getting
back my own again are eight to ten in my favour."

"Or, you might almost say, ten to ten. No friend into whose hands
you confided the little remnant of your property would be so base as
to withhold it from you."

"I will do it," said Mr. Hardy, as he parted with the lawyer.

One day, a few weeks after this interview took place, the client of
Mr. Dockett came hurriedly into his office, and, drawing him aside,
said, as he slipped a small package into his hand, "Here is
something for you. You remember our conversation a short time ago?"

"Oh, very well."

"You understand me, Mr. Dockett?"

"Oh, perfectly! all right; when do you go before the commissioners?"

"To-morrow."

"Ah?"

"Yes--good morning. I will see you again as soon as all is over."

"Very well--good morning."

On the next day, Mr. Hardy met before the commissioners, and took a
solemn oath that he had truly and honestly given up into the hands
of his assignee every dollar of his property, for the benefit of his
creditors, and that he did not now possess any thing beyond what the
law permitted him to retain. Upon this, the insolvent commissioners
gave him a full release from the claims that were held against him,
and Mr. Hardy was able to say, as far as the law was concerned, "I
owe no man any thing."

Mr. Dockett, the lawyer, was sitting in his office on the day after
his client had shuffled off his coil of debt, his mind intent upon
some legal mystery, when the latter individual came in with a light
step and cheerful air.

"Good morning, Mr. Hardy," said the lawyer, smiling blandly.

"Good morning," returned the client.

"How are things progressing?" inquired the lawyer.

"All right," returned Hardy, rubbing his hands. "I am at last a free
man. The cursed manacle of debt has been stricken off--I feel like a
new being."

"For which I most sincerely congratulate you," returned the lawyer.

"For your kindness in so materially aiding me in the matter," said
Mr. Hardy, after a pause, "I am most truly grateful. You have been
my friend as well as my legal adviser."

"I have only done by you as I would have done by any other man,"
replied the lawyer. "You came to me for legal advice, and I gave it
freely."

"Still, beyond that, you have acted as my disinterested friend,"
said Mr. Hardy; "and I cannot express my gratitude in terms
sufficiently strong."

The lawyer bowed low, and looked just a little mistified. A slight
degree of uneasiness was felt by the client. A pause now ensued. Mr.
Hardy felt something like embarrassment. For some time he talked
around the subject uppermost in his mind, but the lawyer did not
appear to see the drift of his remarks. At last, he said--

"Now that I have every thing arranged, I will take the little
package I yesterday handed you."

There was a slight expression of surprise on the countenance of Mr.
Dockett, as he looked inquiringly into the face of his client.

"Handed to me?" he said, in a tone the most innocent imaginable.

"Yes," returned Hardy, with much earnestness. "Don't you recollect
the package containing seven thousand dollars, that I placed in your
hands to keep for me, yesterday, while I went before the
commissioners?"

The lawyer looked thoughtful, but shook his head.

"Oh, but Mr. Dockett," said Hardy, now becoming excited; "you must
remember it. Don't you recollect that I came in here yesterday,
while you were engaged with a couple of gentlemen, and took you
aside for a moment? It was then that I gave you the money."

Mr. Dockett raised his eyes to the ceiling, and mused for some time,
as if trying to recall the circumstance to which allusion was made.
He then shook his head, very deliberately, two or three times,
remarking, as he did so, "You are evidently labouring under a
serious mistake, Mr. Hardy. I have not the most remote recollection
of the incident to which you refer. So far from having received the
sum of money you mention, I do not remember having seen you for at
least a week before to-day. I am very certain you have not been in
my office within that time, unless it were when I was away. Your
memory is doubtless at fault. You must have handed the money to some
one else, and, in the excitement of the occasion, confounded me with
that individual. Were I not charitable enough to suppose this, I
should be deeply offended by what you now say."

"Mr. Dockett," returned the client, contracting his brow heavily,
"Do you take me for a simpleton?"

"Pray don't get excited, Mr. Hardy," replied the lawyer, with the
utmost coolness. "Excitement never does any good. Better collect
your thoughts, and try and remember into whose hands you really did
place your money. That I have not a dollar belonging to you, I can
positively affirm."

"Perhaps you call my seven thousand dollars your own now. I gave you
the sum, according to your own advice; but it was an understood
matter that you were to hand the money back so soon as I had
appeared before the commissioners."

"Mr. Hardy!" and the lawyer began to look angry. "Mr. Hardy, I will
permit neither you nor any other man to face me with such an
insinuation. Do you take me for a common swindler? You came and
asked if there was not some mode by which you could cheat your
creditors out of six or seven thousand dollars; and I, as in duty
bound, professionally, told you how the law might be evaded. And now
you affirm that I joined you as a party in this nefarious
transaction! This is going a little too far?"

Amazement kept the duped client dumb for some moments. When he would
have spoken, his indignation was so great that he was afraid to
trust himself to utter what was in his mind. Feeling that too much
was at stake to enter into any angry contest with the man who had
him so completely in his power, Mr. Hardy tore himself away, by a
desperate effort, in order that, alone, he might be able to think
more calmly, and devise, if possible, the means whereby the
defective memory of the lawyer might be quickened.

On the next day, he went again to the office of his legal adviser,
and was received very kindly by that individual.

"I am sure, Mr. Dockett," he said, after he was seated, speaking in
a soft, insinuating tone of voice, "that you can now remember the
little fact of which I spoke yesterday."

But Mr. Dockett shook his head, and answered, "You have made some
mistake, Mr. Hardy. No such sum of money was ever intrusted to me."

"Perhaps," said Hardy, after thinking for a few minutes, "I may have
been in error in regard to the amount of money contained in the
package. Can't you remember having received five thousand dollars
from me? Think now!"

The lawyer thought for a little while, and then shook his head.

"No, I have not the slightest recollection of having received such a
sum of money from you."

"The package may only have contained four thousand dollars," said
Mr. Hardy, driven to this desperate expedient in the hope of
inducing the lawyer to share the plunder of the creditors.

But Mr. Dockett again shook his head.

"Say, then, I gave you but three thousand dollars."

"No," was the emphatic answer.

"But I am sure you will remember having received two thousand
dollars from my hand."

"No, nor one thousand, nor one hundred," replied the lawyer
positively.

"Mr. Dockett, you are a knave!" exclaimed the client, springing to
his feet and shaking his clenched fists at the lawyer.

"And you are both a knave, and a fool," sneeringly replied Mr.
Dockett.

Hardy, maddened to desperation, uttered a threat of personal
violence, and advanced upon the lawyer.

But the latter was prepared for him, and, before the excited client
had approached three paces, there was heard a sharp click; and at
the same moment, the six dark barrels of a "revolver" became
visible. While Mr. Dockett thus coolly held his assailant at bay, he
addressed him in this wise:

"Mr. Hardy, from what you have just said, it is clear that you have
been playing a swindling game with your creditors, and stained your
soul with perjury into the bargain!--Now, if you do not leave my
office instantly, I will put your case in the hands of the Grand
Jury, at present in session, and let you take your chance for the
State prison on the charge of false swearing!"

Mr. Hardy became instantly as quiet as a lamb. For a few moments, he
looked at the lawyer in bewildered astonishment, and then, turning
away, left his office, in a state of mind more easily imagined than
described.

Subsequently, he tried, at various times and on various occasions,
to refresh the memory of Mr. Dockett on the subject of the seven
thousand dollars, but the lawyer remained entirely oblivious, and to
this day has not been able to recall a single incident attending the
alleged transfer.

Mr. Dockett has, without doubt, a shocking bad memory.

DRIVING A HARD BARGAIN.

WE know a great many businessmen, famous for driving hard bargains,
who would consider an insinuation that they were not influenced by
honest principles in their dealings a gross outrage. And yet such an
insinuation would involve only the truth. Hard bargains, by which
others are made to suffer in order that we may gain, are not honest
transactions; and calling them so don't in the least alter their
quality.

We have our doubts whether men who overreach others in this way, are
really gainers in the end. They get to be known, and are dealt with
by the wary as sharpers.

A certain manufacturer--we will not say of what place, for, our
story being substantially true, to particularize in this respect
would be almost like pointing out the parties concerned--was obliged
to use a kind of goods imported only by two or three houses. The
article was indispensable in his business, and his use of it was
extensive. This man, whom we will call Eldon, belonged to the class
of bargain makers. It was a matter of principle with him never to
close a transaction without, if possible, getting an advantage. The
ordinary profits of trade did not satisfy him; he wanted to go a
little deeper. The consequence was that almost every one was on the
look out for him; and it not unfrequently happened that he paid more
for an article which he imagined he was getting, in consequence of
some manœuvre, at less than cost, than his next-door neighbour, who
dealt fairly and above-board.

One day, a Mr. Lladd, an importer, called upon him, and said--

"I'd like to close out that entire lot of goods, Eldon. I wish you'd
take them."

"How many pieces have you left?" inquired Eldon, with assumed
indifference. It occurred to him, on the instant, that the merchant
was a little pressed, and that, in consequence, he might drive a
sharp bargain with him.

"Two hundred."

Eldon shook his head.

"What's the matter?" asked Lladd.

"The lot is too heavy."

"You'll work up every piece before six months."

"No, indeed. Not in twelve months."

"Oh, yes, you will. I looked over your account yesterday, and find
that you have had a hundred aid fifty pieces from me alone, and in
six months."

"You must be in error."

"No. It is just as I say."

"Well, what terms do you offer?"

"If you will take the entire lot, you may have them for ten and a
quarter, three months."

Eldon thought for a few moments, and then shook his head.

"You must say better than that."

"What better can you ask? You have been buying a dozen pieces at a
time, for ten and a half, cash, and now I offer you the lot at ten
and a quarter, three months."

"Not inducement enough. If you will say ten at six months, perhaps I
will close with you."

"No. I have named the lowest price and best terms. If you like to
take the goods, well and good; if not, why you can go on and pay ten
and a half, cash, as before."

"I'll give you what I said."

"Oh, no, Mr. Eldon. Not a cent less will bring them."

"Very well. Then we can't trade," said the manufacturer.

"As you like," replied the merchant.

And the two men parted.

Now Eldon thought the offer of Lladd a very fair one, and meant to
accept of it, if he could make no better terms; but seeing that the
merchant had taken the pains to come and offer him the goods, he
suspected that he was in want of money, and would take less than he
asked, in order to get his note and pass it through bank. But he
erred in this. Eldon fully expected to see Mr. Lladd before three
days went by. But two weeks elapsed, and as there had been no visit
from the dealer, the manufacturer found it necessary to go to him,
in order to get a fresh supply of goods. So he went to see him.

"I must have a dozen pieces of those goods to-day," said he, as he
met Mr. Lladd.

"Very well. They are at your service."

"You'll sell them at ten and a quarter, I suppose?"

Mr. Lladd shook his head.

"But you offered them at that, you know."

"I offered the whole lot at that price, and the offer is still open;
though I am in no way particular about selling."

Since ten dollars and a quarter a piece had been mentioned; the idea
of paying more had become entirely obliterated from the mind of
Eldon.

"But if you can sell for ten and a quarter, three months, you can
sell for the same, cash."

"Yes, so I can; but I don't mean to do it."

The merchant felt a little fretted. Eldon was disappointed. He stood
chaffering for some time longer; but finding it impossible to bring
Lladd over to his terms, he finally agreed to take the two hundred
pieces at ten and a quarter, on his note at three months.

Still he was far from being satisfied. He had fully believed that
the merchant was pressed for money, and that he would in consequence
be able to drive a hard bargain with him. Notwithstanding he had
been compelled to go to Lladd, and to accept his terms, he yet
believed that money was an object to him, and that, rather than not
have the sale confirmed, he would let it be closed at ten dollars a
piece, on a note at six months. So firmly was he impressed with this
idea, that he finally concluded to assume, boldly, that ten dollars
was the price agreed upon, and to affect surprise that the bill
expressed any other rate.

In due time, the goods were delivered and the bill sent in.
Immediately upon this being done, Eldon called upon the merchant and
said, in a confident manner, as he laid the bill he had received
upon his desk.

"You've made a mistake, haven't you?"

"How?"

"In charging these goods."

"No. I told you the price would be ten and a quarter, didn't I?"

"I believe not. I understood the terms to be ten dollars, at six
months."

"You offered that, but I positively refused it."

"I am sure I understood you as accepting my offer, and ordered the
goods to be sent home under that impression."

"If so, you erred," coolly replied Lladd.

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