CHAPTER XII.
The Group at "The Eagle."--Entree of a Stranger.--His Opinion of the Tavern.--Bulliphant wakes up.--Can't pick Fowls after Dark.--Sad Case of Mother Gantlet and Dr. Teazle.--Mr. Farindale begins to unbend.--Whistle & Sharp, and their Attorney.--Good Pay.--Legal Conversation.--Going Sniping.--Great Description of the Animal.--The Party start, Farindale holding the Bag.--"Waiting for Snipe."--Farindale's Solitary Return.--His Interview with Whistle & Sharp.--Suing a Puddleford Firm.--Relief Laws.--Farindale gets his Execution.--The Puddleford Bank.--The Appraisers.--Proceeds of the Execution.
Late in the fall of the year, early one evening, Turtle, Longbow, Bates,the "Colonel," Swipes, and Beagle were congregated at the Eagle. Turtle andBates were engaged at a game of checkers, and each one, fast-anchored athis right hand, had a glass of whiskey and water, or, as Turtle called it,"a little diluted baldface." Their mouths were pierced with a pipe, in theleft hand corner, which hung loosely and rakishly down, besmearing theirlaps with ashes, and now and then they puffed forth a column of smoke. The"Colonel," Longbow, and the other Puddlefordians were ranged round thefire. The Colonel sat in a rickety chair, his feet hoisted up on the mantelon a line with his nose, and his shoulders hitched over the ends of itsposts; the Squire was busily looking into the glowing coals, his handsclasped across his breast, unravelling some question of law, and Swipessat very affectionately on Beagle's lap, his right arm thrown around hisneck.
While in this position, aloud call of "Hallo!" "Landlord!" "O-r-s-t-ler!"was heard without.
"Stir yer stumps, old Boniface--a traveller in distress," exclaimed Ike, toBulliphant, who was asleep on a wooden box behind the bar, and was snoringlouder and louder at each succeeding blast.
"Another two-and-sixpence, old free and easy," added Bates.
"This ere's a licensed tavern, and you must be up and doing, or the la' 'llbe inter you," gravely remarked the Squire.
By this time the stranger dashed into the bar-room, his face flushed, andhis temper, or his offended dignity, or both, in the ascendant, andexclaimed, ferociously, "Is this a tavern! are you all dead! where's thelandlord! the hostler! Got any hay--oats!--anything for a gentleman toeat!--any place to sleep!"--when Bulliphant rubbed open his eyes with theknuckle of his fore-finger, gave a sleepy nod, and stumbled towards thedoor, to provide for his furious guest and his horse.
The stranger walked into the bar-room, unwound two or three gaudy shawlsfrom his neck, took off an overcoat, a surtout-coat, shed a pair ofIndia-rubber travelling-boots, run both of his hands deep into hisbreeches-pockets, took half a dozen pompous strides across the floor,looking down all the while in abstracted mood at his feet, paraded before aglass, twisted one of the locks of his hair around his fore-finger, andfinally brought up with his back to the fire, where he stood, his handsholding apart the skirts of his coat, and his attention fixed uponsomething on the ceiling.
Turtle measured him with his eyes several times from head to foot; the"Colonel" hitched out of his way and begged his pardon, when, in fact, hewas not at all _in_ his way; the Squire was quite overcome at the amount ofopposing dignity brought so directly in contact with him; Bates gravelywhistled Yankee Doodle, gazing out of the window, and winked over hisshoulder at Beagle and Swipes, who winked back again.
Bulliphant returned wide awake. "Any turkeys or chickens?" inquired thestranger.
"All gone to roost," answered Bulliphant, with a grave kind of brevity.
"Take a broiled chicken," said the stranger, giving a heavy hawk, with hishand upon his breast, and spitting half across the floor.
"Have to take it feathers and all, then," said Bulliphant--"wimin folks aresuperstitious--don't b'lieve it's right to pick fowls in the night--'twasjest so with my wife's grandmother--she had the same complaint."
The stranger looked very hard at Bulliphant, and spit again, somewhatspitefully.
"Can give you mush, souse, slap-jacks, briled pork," continued Bulliphant,looking quizzically towards Turtle.
The stranger said, "he thought he'd stopped at a _tavern_--but he'd a greatdeal better turned himself into the woods, and browsed for supper"--andheaving a long sigh, sat down, and crossed his legs in a settled mood ofdesperation.
Bulliphant said "there warn't no cause for alarm--he'd seen sicker men thanhe die--and get well, too."
The stranger grunted and shifted his legs.
There was a long silence. All the Puddlefordians, except Ike and Bates, whowere absorbed in their game, were looking soberly and steadily into theburning logs.
"Turtle," exclaimed Swipes, at last, breaking the solitude--"is that mangoin' to die?"
"Can't tell," replied Turtle; "his life's on a pize--may turn one way, mayturn t'other," and he took out his pipe, and blew a long whiff.
"Sleep well, last night?"
"Groan'd some 'bout midnight."
Swipes looked very sad, and the stranger's eyes passed from face to facewith anxious looks.
"Ain't goin' to bleed to death?"
"Not zactly that, but mortification's goin' to set in, and he cannot standit long, when that takes him."
"Dear me!" exclaimed the Colonel.
"Very strange case!" added the Squire.
"Great loss!" rejoined Bates.
The stranger, who was none other than the junior member of the firm ofFollett, Fizzlet & Farindale, dry goods merchants, doing business in thecity of New York, and who was out at Puddleford hunting up the firm ofWhistle & Sharp, a couple of debtors, whose account had been in the rearfor some time--the stranger, I say, became very anxious to hear theparticulars of the man whose life was in jeopardy--and he exclaimed beforehe thought--"What is it, gentlemen?--who's hurt?"
"Why," said Ike, his face all the while cast iron, and his eyes steadilyfixed on his game; "why, you see, old mother Gantlet was took with aviolent mis'ry in her head--sent for Dr. Teazle--our village doctorhere--the old 'oman said her head would bust--doctor said it wouldn't--theold 'oman said it would--the doctor said he'd tie it up--and he _did_ tryto tie it up, stranger--and while he was busy, her head _did_ bust, andblew off the doctor's thumb and fore-finger"--and Ike shoved a man into theking-row and crowned him, without a look at Mr. Farindale, his face all thewhile as rigid as a tombstone.
Mr. Farindale gave a long whistle, and immediately called for a cigar; theColonel dropped a quid of tobacco into his hand, and gave it a toss acrossthe bar-room; Longbow shot forth a dignified spit into the fire, or ratherit seemed to shoot out itself, without moving a muscle, and Bates strokedhis chin several times with his left hand.
A long pause ensued. "What became of the woman?" inquired Farindale, afterfive minutes, looking sharply at Ike.
"She hain't been heer'd on since, as I knows on," replied Ike; "but the_doctor's_ in a dref-ul state."
The game of checkers closed, and Ike and Bates moved around near Mr.Farindale.
"Stranger," said Ike, "travelled long in these ere parts?"
"Not long--but long enough."
"Goin' on?"
"On where?"
"Why, on to the next place?"
"Does Whistle & Sharp live hereabouts?" inquired Farindale, withoutanswering Ike's question.
"To be sure they do," said Ike; "I know 'em like a book; am their 'torney."
"Their attorney--_you_ their attorney--attorney of Whistle & Sharp," saidthe stranger, slowly and musingly, scratching his head with hisfore-finger.
"Got anything for 'em or agin 'em?" inquired Ike.
"Are they good pay?" inquired the stranger.
"Always pays at the end of an execution," replied Ike--"neverbefore--allers takes a receipt on the docket--makes their settlements amatter of record--puts things where they can't be ripp'd up--best way,ain't it, stranger?"
The stranger grunted, "Humph!"
"And then," said Ike, "there's no dispute 'bout authority to collect.Everybody can't tell who everybody's agent is. One New York clark run'daway one year with all t
he collections from Puddleford in hisbreeches-pocket; but the court _has_ authority--gin'ral jurisdiction--andthe discharge of a court is a discharge what _is_ a discharge."
"That's a real opinion," exclaimed Longbow, who had not spoken for half anhour; "there's nothin' like a _court_ to put a finish onter things;" andthe Squire gave two or three heavy coughs, and blew his nose into his redcotton handkerchief, and doubling it up into a wad, looked around verygravely at Farindale as he dropped it back into his hat.
"Authority! The authority of courts to collect debts! They may haveauthority, but I never saw a court that had the _power_ to collect a debtof me," exclaimed the Colonel, shifting his tobacco from one side of hismouth to the other as he spoke; "and I never put in a plea in my life--theplea always puts _itself_ in, and is a dead bar to further proceedingsevery time--'no assets'--'nothing whereon to levy'"--
"_Nully Bony! Nully Bony!_ you mean," said the Squire, horror-stricken atthe Colonel's use of law language.
"That's it," said Bates; "hain't got nothin' to get onter"--
"And ain't nowhere to be found, nor nothin'," added Turtle.
"Just so," said the Colonel; "a kind of general suspension for want ofcapital--the fiddle's on hand, but the bow is gone."
The stranger was puzzled at the Puddlefordian view of paying debts, andwondered if Whistle & Sharp were advocates of the same doctrine.
"Stranger!" said Bates, turning the subject of conversation, "do you everhunt?"
"Never," answered Farindale.
"Rare sport to-night, going a-sniping," said Bates.
"_Sni_-ping?" inquired the stranger, emphasizing the first syllable;"_sni_-ping! what is _sni_-ping?"
"_Sni_-ping?" answered Bates--"why, catching snipe, to be sure."
"Great sport," said the Colonel; "bagged three hundred night before last."
"The real yaller legs, too!" remarked Turtle.
Farindale said "he would like to accompany them--never saw a snipe in hislife--would like to take one back to the city. Do they _sing_?" heinquired, turning to Turtle.
"Great singers! catch any tune! s'prising critters to larn," answered Ike;"got one up to my house that goes thro' half of 'Old Hundred,' by jesthearing the folks hum it round the house."
"_Re_-markable!" exclaimed Farindale.
"Great eating, too," said Longbow.
"Hain't got mor'n two or three bones in their whole body; all the restmeat," said Bates.
Preparations were immediately made for the sniping expedition. The strangerput on his India-rubber boots, and shawls, and overcoat; Ike procured alarge bag of Bulliphant; and all hands, excepting Squire Longbow, whosedignity forbade anything like sport, wended their way to the river, where,Turtle said, "there were whole droves on 'em."
"Now," whispered Turtle, drawing Farindale close to him, and holding hisarm all the while as he spoke in his ear, "we must keep very still--snipeare scary critters, and when they get frightened they put straight for theriver. There is a big log out yonder--a favorite spot of theirs--down whichthey travel and jump off into the river. You jest take this ere bag, creepsoftly down to the log, slip the bag over the end on't, and wait thereuntil we drive in the snipe. Don't speak--don't move; make 'em think youare the trunk of a tree; and when the bag is full, slip it off, and closeit in a jiffy."
"Yes! yes!" whispered back Farindale.
"Mind, don't stir from your post till I halloo."
"No! no!" said Farindale.
Farindale did as he was directed. He found, however, a foot of black muck;but, after "slumping" a while, he managed to plant his spread legs out likea pair of extended compasses, and slide the bag over the log. Here hestood, half bent together, grasping the bag, and waiting for snipe.
There was a beating of the bushes around him; then all was still; thenanother beating, and another, and then a longer silence. Farindale wassinking deeper and deeper in the mud, and the water was nearly to the topof his boots. By and by, the noises ceased--no foot-step could be heard,and the stranger was alone with the bag and the log, and half up to hismiddle--_waiting for snipe_.
What ever became of the Puddlefordians is more than I can say. Farindalereturned to the Eagle alone. Early the next morning he might have beenfound in anxious consultation with Whistle & Sharp concerning a claim thereof a hundred and twelve dollars, and interest after six months, which hewas very desirous to secure or settle. Mr. Whistle, the senior member ofthe firm of Whistle & Sharp, was a very thin-faced man, with sandy hairthat had seldom been combed, and he wore a faded blue coat with metalbuttons, the two behind having been placed just under his armpits, whichmade him look as though some invisible power was all the while lifting himup from the ground. His woollen pantaloons had passed so many times throughthe wash-tub, that he was obliged to strain out the wrinkles when he putthem on, and they clung as tight to his legs as his skin. Sharp was alittle man, had a long face, and his mouth seemed to have been bored--forit was round--about midway between his chin and his forehead; and he wasalways wasping around, giving consequential orders about nothing, and veryoften spoke of the _firm_ of Whistle & Sharp, and what Whistle & Sharp haddone, and what Whistle & Sharp could do, and would do.
Mr. Whistle informed Mr. Farindale that "the debt could not be paid atpresent, although," he added, "that the firm of Whistle & Sharp were goodfor ten times that amount."
"And another ten top of that," added Sharp, from the other end of thestore, where he was tumbling down and putting up goods by way of exercise.
"Can you secure them?" inquired Farindale.
"Well, now, you _have_ said it!" exclaimed Whistle, with apparentastonishment. "What can be safer than the firm of Whistle &Sharp?--_secure!_--never had such a thing hinted before during the tenyears of our business."
"A mortgage," insinuated Farindale.
"Can't do _that_,--not no how; my old grandfather was swept out clean witha mortgage once; took all he had, and he was compelled to emigrate; died ofbroken heart at last."
"Then," said Farindale, "I must sue."
"What! sue the firm of Whistle & Sharp! Very well, sir, do, if you please."
"Yes-sir-_ee_--horse-cob! Mr. Follett, Fizzlet & Farindale," exclaimedSharp, springing at one bound over the counter; "just sue usif--_you_--please; we'll pay the costs!" and Sharp whistled a tune with hiseyes fixed steadily upon Farindale.
"Court sits next month," said Whistle.
"And we'll confess judgment," said Sharp.
"And the _pay_ is sure," said Whistle.
"And no trouble hereafter," said Sharp.
Mr. Farindale began to think another sniping expedition was afoot. He wasnot a coward, if his cockneyism had lured him after snipe; but he wasunable to determine what kind of people the Puddlefordians were. He hadnever met anything like them. So he sat in his chair, the account againstWhistle & Sharp in his hand, tapping the floor with his right foot, tryingto devise some way to secure his claim.
A thought struck him. "Pay it, and I will make a discount of twenty-fiveper cent.," said he.
"What's that you say?" indignantly exclaimed Sharp. "Do you mean to injureour firm?--the firm of Whistle & Sharp, who pay dollar for dollar! Thatere, sir, is an insult. There's the door--walk! Sue! but you can't insult_us_ on our own premises. That's the way to talk it, sir!" And Mr.Farindale _did_ go, and he _did_ sue, and the firm recovered a judgmentagainst Whistle & Sharp for the sum of three hundred and twenty-fourdollars and sixteen cents, and costs of suit.
It was no great matter to recover a judgment against a Puddlefordian; butit was something of a business to realize the damages. And that the readermay understand what kind of a prospect Follett, Fizzlet & Farindale had fortheir money, it is necessary to speak of the laws then in force for thecollection of debts. The new states at that time were entirely "shingledover" with relief laws, which were passed to save the property of thepioneer from sacrifice. There was scarcely any money in Puddleford, andexchanges were made by barter. Personal property was valued by its relationto othe
r property; eight yards of calico were worth so much wheat, corn,potash, cord-wood, or saw-logs. The merchant managed to turn his graininto high wines, or put it in some other shape that would beartransportation, and he was thus enabled to pay _his_ debts. The farmer gavethe mechanic an order on the merchant; the professional man took an orderon the merchant; the day-laborer took an order on the merchant; everybodytook an order on the merchant. The merchant was general paymaster; what hecould not, or would not pay, remained unpaid; and he, in his turn, sweptthe farmer's crops, and took everything available; and the balance yet hisdue, and remaining unpaid, if any, was carried over against the farmer, andagainst the next crop. Thus the whole business of Puddleford ran throughthe merchant like wheat through a mill, and generally at a profit to thelatter of from seventy-five to a hundred per cent.
It was this condition of the country that drove the legislature into theenactment of relief-laws. As there was no money to pay debts, it wasenacted that property should be a legal tender. The law in force, at thedate of the judgment against Whistle & Sharp, was a beautiful specimen oflegislative impudence and ingenuity. It _was_ a relief law! One section ofthe act provided, in substance, that upon the presentation of an execution,issued by any court in the state, by the officer to whom the same shall bedirected, to the debtor or debtors mentioned therein, _such debtor ordebtors may turn out any property, personal or real, to said officer_ whoshall levy on the same; and the said officer shall cause the same to beappraised by three appraisers, one to be chosen by the plaintiff, one bythe defendant, and one by the officer, who shall forthwith be sworn, etc.,and proceed to appraise said property turned out at its true cash value;and the said plaintiff in such execution shall receive said property at twothirds its appraised value; and, if he refuse, he shall not proceed anyfarther with his execution, or have another, _until he first pay up all thecosts of said appraisement_.[A]
An execution was issued by J. Snappit, Esq., attorney for Follett, Fizzlet& Farindale, upon the judgment, recorded as foresaid, against the firm ofWhistle & Sharp, and put into the hands of the sheriff for collection.
Now the sheriff of the county which included Puddleford within its limitswas an accommodating man, a humane man, a man of the people, a--politician.He did not think it necessary to oppress debtors who were unfortunatelyunable to pay their debts--for the people elected him. Follett, Fizzlet &Farindale never voted for _him_--never could vote for him; Whistle & Sharphad, and would again. So the sheriff went down to Puddleford, and verypolitely informed them, with a wink, that "he had _that_ execution againstthem, and it must be paid."
"Jest so--jest so," answered Sharp, reading over the writ: "Whistle & Sharpalways pay--always have a pile of assets ready for a levy;" and returningthe execution to the sheriff, begged a moment's delay, until "_we_ couldconsult with our attorney."
Mr. Turtle was consulted, and the conclusion of Sharp's interview with himamounted to this: that Turtle should go immediately, and purchase forWhistle & Sharp the old steamboat cylinder, crank, and shaft; and theparties separated.
The steamboat cylinder, crank, and shaft, alluded to, was what Turtlecalled the "Puddleford bank--metallic basis." Some years before, asteamboat, on an exploring expedition up the river, among its windings andsand-bars, was wrecked, and a heavy cylinder, crank, and shaft, thrownashore at Puddleford, where they lay at the period I speak of, and had fora long time, deeply imbedded in sand. This mass of iron, weighing manytons, had for a long time been a perpetual bar to the collection of alldebts against Puddlefordians. Chitty, in his Pleadings, never invented oneso omnipotent. It suspended every execution directed against it. It wastransferred, by bill of sale, from one Puddlefordian to another (as nocreditor was ever found willing to receive it at any price), as necessityrequired, and was considered, by common consent, public property--a "bank"as Turtle called it, "to which any person had a right to resort indistress."[B]
Turtle took a bill of sale of this iron from the last man in trouble, andturned it out to the sheriff on the execution against Whistle & Sharp.
"Now, Mr. Sheriff," said Turtle, triumphantly, "bring on your ap_pri_zers;a thousand dollars' worth of property to pay a little over three hundred.My clients, Whistle & Sharp, are bunkum yet--allers stand up to the rack atthe end of an execution. Bring on your ap_pri_zers, Mr. Sheriff."
Mr. Turtle chose an appraiser first--a second cousin of Mr. Whistle, ofthe firm of Whistle & Sharp, and a man who was deeply in debt on theirbooks--a bilious, weazen-faced, melancholy-looking man, who had acquired agreat reputation for wisdom by saying nothing--whose name was Clinket. Noone appearing to choose for the plaintiffs, the sheriff selected the othertwo. He named Mr. Troper, a seedy old fellow, whose crown was half out ofhis hat, whose beard was white, his nose red, and who had a whiskey-cough,and who was in the habit of visiting the barrel-tap of Whistle & Sharpthree or four times a day, in consideration of odd jobs performed by himaround the store; also, Mr. Fatler, a chubby-faced, twinkle-eyed wag, whowould not hesitate to perpetrate a good joke, even under oath, particularlyupon non-residents.
The Puddlefordians were out in mass to see Follett & Co. try a run on their"bank." Many remarks were made.
Bulliphant said "the cylinder alone cost five hundred dollars."
Swipes said "it was a bully piece of stuff."
"How much is the debt?" inquired Bates.
"Two thirds of twelve hundred," exclaimed Turtle, loudly, "is eighthundred."
"Worth the debt for old iron," said the Colonel.
These remarks, designed for the appraisers, had their effect; theyexamined; they figured; retired for consultation; returned; retired again;and finally appraised the property turned out at sixteen hundred dollars;paying, at two thirds its _value_, the debt of Whistle & Sharp, and leavinga very handsome surplus due them from their creditors. But I am very happyto be enabled to say that Whistle & Sharp most magnanimously offered torelease all _their_ claim on the levy to Follett & Co., if they would takethe property, and discharge the judgment and costs, "making," as they saidin their letter to them, "a clear profit on their part of from four to fivehundred dollars."
FOOTNOTES:
[A] This is the substance of a portion of the act, as it stood in forcesome years.
[B] This is a literal fact.