And beautiful, 'midst that wild scene, Deep in her bosom lay his head, O, human love, whose yearning heart, There is some home for thee, Where thou shalt rest, remembering not The moaning of the sea. XV. A GOOD INVESTMENT. FREEMAN HUNT. [Freeman Hunt is the editor of the Merchant's Magazine, an excellent periodical, published in New York, devoted to the interests of commerce.] "CAN you lend me two thousand dollars to establish myself in a small retail business?" inquired a young man not yet out of his teens, of a middle-aged gentleman, who was poring over his leger in the counting room of one of the largest establishments in Boston. The person addressed turned towards the speaker, and regarding him for a moment with a look of surprise, inquired,— "What security can you give me, Mr. Strosser?" 66 Nothing but my note," replied the young man promptly. "Which I fear would be below par in market,” replied the merchant, smiling. "Perhaps so," said the young man ; "but, Mr. Barton, remember that the boy is not the man; the time may come when Híram Strosser's note will be as readily accepted as that of any other man." "True, very true," replied Mr. Barton, mildly; "but you know business men seldom lend money without adequate security; otherwise they might soon be reduced to penury.” At this remark the young man's countenance became very pale, and, having observed a silence of several moments, he inquired, in a voice whose tones indicated his deep disappointment, "Then you cannot accommodate me· - can you?” "Call upon me to-morrow, and I will give you a reply," said Mr. Barton; and the young man retired. Mr. Barton resumed his labors at the desk; but his mind was so much upon the boy and his singular errand, that he could not pursue his task with any correctness; and, after having made several sad blunders, he closed the leger, and took his hat, and went out upon the street. Arriving opposite the store of a wealthy merchant upon Milk Street, he entered the door. Good morning, Mr. Hawley," said he, approaching the proprietor of the establishment, who was seated at his desk, counting over the profits of the week. "Good morning," replied the merchant, blandly. "Happy to see you. Have a seat? Any news? How's trade?" Without noticing these interrogations, Mr. Barton said,"Young Strosser is desirous of establishing himself in a small retail business in Washington Street, and called this morning to secure of me a loan of two thousand dollars for that purpose." "Indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Hawley, evidently surprised at this announcement; "but you do not think of lending that do you?" sum "I do not know,” replied Mr. Barton. "Mr. Strosser is a young man of business talent and strict integrity, and will be likely to succeed in whatever he undertakes." "Perhaps so,” replied Mr. Hawley, doubtfully; "but I am heartily tired of helping to establish these young aspirants for commercial honors." "Have you ever suffered from such a course ?” inquired Mr. Barton, at the same time casting a roguish glance at Mr. Hawley. 66 No," replied the latter, "for I never felt inclined to make an investment of that kind." "Then here is a fine opportunity to do so. It may prove better than stock in the bank. As for myself, I have concluded that, if you will advance him one thousand dollars, I will contribute an equal sum." "Not a single farthing would I advance for such a purpose; and if you make an investment of that kind, I shall consider you very foolish." Mr. Barton was silent for several minutes, and then arose to depart. "If you do not feel disposed to share with me in this enterprise, I shall advance the whole sum myself." Ten years have passed away since the occurrence of the conversation recorded in the preceding dialogue, and Mr. Barton, pale and agitated, is standing at the same desk as when first introduced to the reader's attention. As page after page of his ponderous leger was examined, his despair became deeper and deeper, till at last he exclaimed, "I am ruined utterly ruined!" "How so?" inquired Hiram Strosser, who entered the counting room in season to hear Mr. Barton's remark. "The last European steamer brought news of the failure of the house of Perleh, Jackson, & Co., London, who are indebted to me in the sum of nearly two hundred thousand dollars. News of the failure has become general, and my creditors, panic-stricken, are pressing for payment of their demands. The banks refuse me credit, and I have not the means to meet my liabilities. If I could pass this crisis, perhaps I could rally again; but it is impossible; my creditors are importunate, and I cannot much longer keep above the tide," replied Mr. Barton. 66 "What is the extent of your liabilities?" inquired Strosser. "Seventy-five thousand dollars," replied Mr. Barton. "Would that sum be sufficient to relieve you?" "It would." "Then, sir, you shall have it," said Strosser, as he stepped up to the desk, and drew a check for twenty thousand dollars. Here, take this, and when you need more, do not hesitate to call upon me. Remember that it was from you I received money to establish myself in business." "But that debt was cancelled several years ago,” replied Mr. Barton, as a ray of hope shot across his troubled mind. "True,” replied Strosser, "but the debt of gratitude that I owe has never been cancelled; and now that the scale is turned, I deem it my duty to come up to the rescue." At this singular turn in the tide of fortune, Mr. Barton fairly wept for joy. Every claim against him was paid as soon as presented, and in less than a month he had passed the crisis, and stood perfectly safe and secure; his credit increased and his business improved, while several others sank under the blow, and could not rally, among whom was Mr. Hawley, alluded to at the commencement of this article. “How did you manage to keep above the tide?" inquired Mr. Hawley of Mr. Barton, one morning, several months after the events last recorded, as he met the latter upon the street, on his way to his place of business. Very easily, indeed, I can assure you,” replied Mr. Barton. "Well, do tell me how," continued Mr. Hawley; "I lay claim to a good degree of shrewdness, but the strongest exercise of my wits did not save me; and yet you, whose liabilities were twice as heavy as my own, have stood the shock, and have come off even bettered by the storm." "The truth is,” replied Mr. Barton, "I cashed my paper as soon as it was sent in." "I suppose so," said Mr. Hawley, regarding Mr. B. with a look of surprise; "but how did you obtain the funds? As for my part, I could not obtain a dollar's credit: the banks refused to take my paper, and my friends even deserted me." "A little investment that I made some ten years ago," replied Mr. Barton, smiling, "has recently proved exceedingly profitable." 66 66 "Investment!" echoed Mr. Hawley" what investment?” Why, do you not remember how I established young Strosser in business some ten years ago?" 66 “O, yes, yes,” replied Mr. Hawley, as a ray of suspicion lighted up his countenance; "but what of that?" "He is now one of the largest dry goods dealers in the city, and when this calamity came on, he came forward, and very generously advanced me seventy-five thousand dollars. You know I told you, on the morning I called to offer you an equal share of the stock, that it might prove better than an investment in the bank." During this announcement, Mr. Hawley's eyes were bent intently upon the ground, and, drawing a deep sigh, he moved on, dejected and sad, while Mr. Barton returned to his place of business, with his mind cheered and animated by thoughts of his singular investment. XVI. THE LAKE OF THE DISMAL SWAMP. MOORE. [Thomas Moore was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1779, and died in 1852. He was a very brilliant lyric poet and song writer. In the latter part of his life he wrote many prose works. When a very young man, he visited America, and the following poem was one of the results of that visit. The subjoined introduction was by the author. "They tell of a young man, who lost his mind upon the death of a girl he loved, and who, suddenly disappearing from his friends, was never afterwards heard of. As he had frequently said, in his ravings, that the girl was not dead, but gone to the Dismal Swamp, it is supposed he had wandered into that dreary wilderness, and had died of hunger, or been lost in some of its dreadful morasses."] |