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The Gilded Age
CHAPTER VIII
Mark Twain
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       CHAPTER VIII
       --Whan pe horde is thynne, as of seruyse,
       Nought replenesshed with grete diuersite
       Of mete & drinke, good chere may then suffise
       With honest talkyng----
       The Book of Curtesye.
       MAMMON. Come on, sir. Now, you set your foot on shore
       In Novo Orbe; here's the rich Peru:
       And there within, sir, are the golden mines,
       Great Solomon's Ophir!----
       B. Jonson
       The supper at Col. Sellers's was not sumptuous, in the beginning, but it
       improved on acquaintance. That is to say, that what Washington regarded
       at first sight as mere lowly potatoes, presently became awe-inspiring
       agricultural productions that had been reared in some ducal garden beyond
       the sea, under the sacred eye of the duke himself, who had sent them to
       Sellers; the bread was from corn which could be grown in only one favored
       locality in the earth and only a favored few could get it; the Rio
       coffee, which at first seemed execrable to the taste, took to itself an
       improved flavor when Washington was told to drink it slowly and not hurry
       what should be a lingering luxury in order to be fully appreciated--it
       was from the private stores of a Brazilian nobleman with an
       unrememberable name. The Colonel's tongue was a magician's wand that
       turned dried apples into figs and water into wine as easily as it could
       change a hovel into a palace and present poverty into imminent future
       riches.
       Washington slept in a cold bed in a carpetless room and woke up in a
       palace in the morning; at least the palace lingered during the moment
       that he was rubbing his eyes and getting his bearings--and then it
       disappeared and he recognized that the Colonel's inspiring talk had been
       influencing his dreams. Fatigue had made him sleep late; when he entered
       the sitting room he noticed that the old hair-cloth sofa was absent; when
       he sat down to breakfast the Colonel tossed six or seven dollars in bills
       on the table, counted them over, said he was a little short and must call
       upon his banker; then returned the bills to his wallet with the
       indifferent air of a man who is used to money. The breakfast was not an
       improvement upon the supper, but the Colonel talked it up and transformed
       it into an oriental feast. Bye and bye, he said:
       "I intend to look out for you, Washington, my boy. I hunted up a place
       for you yesterday, but I am not referring to that,--now--that is a mere
       livelihood--mere bread and butter; but when I say I mean to look out for
       you I mean something very different. I mean to put things in your way
       than will make a mere livelihood a trifling thing. I'll put you in a way
       to make more money than you'll ever know what to do with. You'll be
       right here where I can put my hand on you when anything turns up. I've
       got some prodigious operations on foot; but I'm keeping quiet; mum's the
       word; your old hand don't go around pow-wowing and letting everybody see
       his k'yards and find out his little game. But all in good time,
       Washington, all in good time. You'll see. Now there's an operation in
       corn that looks well. Some New York men are trying to get me to go into
       it--buy up all the growing crops and just boss the market when they
       mature--ah I tell you it's a great thing. And it only costs a trifle;
       two millions or two and a half will do it. I haven't exactly promised
       yet--there's no hurry--the more indifferent I seem, you know, the more
       anxious those fellows will get. And then there is the hog speculation--
       that's bigger still. We've got quiet men at work," [he was very
       impressive here,] "mousing around, to get propositions out of all the
       farmers in the whole west and northwest for the hog crop, and other
       agents quietly getting propositions and terms out of all the
       manufactories--and don't you see, if we can get all the hogs and all the
       slaughter horses into our hands on the dead quiet--whew! it would take
       three ships to carry the money.--I've looked into the thing--calculated
       all the chances for and all the chances against, and though I shake my
       head and hesitate and keep on thinking, apparently, I've got my mind made
       up that if the thing can be done on a capital of six millions, that's the
       horse to put up money on! Why Washington--but what's the use of talking
       about it--any man can see that there's whole Atlantic oceans of cash in
       it, gulfs and bays thrown in. But there's a bigger thing than that, yes
       bigger----"
       "Why Colonel, you can't want anything bigger!" said Washington, his eyes
       blazing. "Oh, I wish I could go into either of those speculations--I
       only wish I had money--I wish I wasn't cramped and kept down and fettered
       with poverty, and such prodigious chances lying right here in sight!
       Oh, it is a fearful thing to be poor. But don't throw away those things
       --they are so splendid and I can see how sure they are. Don't throw them
       away for something still better and maybe fail in it! I wouldn't,
       Colonel. I would stick to these. I wish father were here and were his
       old self again--Oh, he never in his life had such chances as these are.
       Colonel; you can't improve on these--no man can improve on them!"
       A sweet, compassionate smile played about the Colonel's features, and he
       leaned over the table with the air of a man who is "going to show you"
       and do it without the least trouble:
       "Why Washington, my boy, these things are nothing. They look large of
       course--they look large to a novice, but to a man who has been all his
       life accustomed to large operations--shaw! They're well enough to while
       away an idle hour with, or furnish a bit of employment that will give a
       trifle of idle capital a chance to earn its bread while it is waiting for
       something to do, but--now just listen a moment--just let me give you an
       idea of what we old veterans of commerce call 'business.' Here's the
       Rothschild's proposition--this is between you and me, you understand----"
       Washington nodded three or four times impatiently, and his glowing eyes
       said, "Yes, yes--hurry--I understand----"
       ----"for I wouldn't have it get out for a fortune. They want me to go in
       with them on the sly--agent was here two weeks ago about it--go in on the
       sly" [voice down to an impressive whisper, now,] "and buy up a hundred
       and thirteen wild cat banks in Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Illinois and
       Missouri--notes of these banks are at all sorts of discount now--average
       discount of the hundred and thirteen is forty-four per cent--buy them all
       up, you see, and then all of a sudden let the cat out of the bag! Whiz!
       the stock of every one of those wildcats would spin up to a tremendous
       premium before you could turn a handspring--profit on the speculation not
       a dollar less than forty millions!" [An eloquent pause, while the
       marvelous vision settled into W.'s focus.] "Where's your hogs now?
       Why my dear innocent boy, we would just sit down on the front door-steps
       and peddle banks like lucifer matches!"
       Washington finally got his breath and said:
       "Oh, it is perfectly wonderful! Why couldn't these things have happened
       in father's day? And I--it's of no use--they simply lie before my face
       and mock me. There is nothing for me but to stand helpless and see other
       people reap the astonishing harvest."
       "Never mind, Washington, don't you worry. I'll fix you. There's plenty
       of chances. How much money have you got?"
       In the presence of so many millions, Washington could not keep from
       blushing when he had to confess that he had but eighteen dollars in the
       world.
       "Well, all right--don't despair. Other people have been obliged to begin
       with less. I have a small idea that may develop into something for us
       both, all in good time. Keep your money close and add to it. I'll make
       it breed. I've been experimenting (to pass away the time), on a little
       preparation for curing sore eyes--a kind of decoction nine-tenths water
       and the other tenth drugs that don't cost more than a dollar a barrel;
       I'm still experimenting; there's one ingredient wanted yet to perfect the
       thing, and somehow I can't just manage to hit upon the thing that's
       necessary, and I don't dare talk with a chemist, of course. But I'm
       progressing, and before many weeks I wager the country will ring with the
       fame of Beriah Sellers' Infallible Imperial Oriental Optic Liniment and
       Salvation for Sore Eyes--the Medical Wonder of the Age! Small bottles
       fifty cents, large ones a dollar. Average cost, five and seven cents for
       the two sizes.
       "The first year sell, say, ten thousand bottles in Missouri, seven
       thousand in Iowa, three thousand in Arkansas, four thousand in Kentucky,
       six thousand in Illinois, and say twenty-five thousand in the rest of the
       country. Total, fifty five thousand bottles; profit clear of all
       expenses, twenty thousand dollars at the very lowest calculation. All
       the capital needed is to manufacture the first two thousand bottles--
       say a hundred and fifty dollars--then the money would begin to flow in.
       The second year, sales would reach 200,000 bottles--clear profit, say,
       $75,000--and in the meantime the great factory would be building in St.
       Louis, to cost, say, $100,000. The third year we could, easily sell
       1,000,000 bottles in the United States and----"
       "O, splendid!" said Washington. "Let's commence right away--let's----"
       "----1,000,000 bottles in the United States--profit at least $350,000--
       and then it would begin to be time to turn our attention toward the real
       idea of the business."
       "The real idea of it! Ain't $350,000 a year a pretty real----"
       "Stuff! Why what an infant you are, Washington--what a guileless, short-
       sighted, easily-contented innocent you, are, my poor little country-bred
       know-nothing! Would I go to all that trouble and bother for the poor
       crumbs a body might pick up in this country? Now do I look like a man
       who----does my history suggest that I am a man who deals in trifles,
       contents himself with the narrow horizon that hems in the common herd,
       sees no further than the end of his nose? Now you know that that is not
       me--couldn't be me. You ought to know that if I throw my time and
       abilities into a patent medicine, it's a patent medicine whose field of
       operations is the solid earth! its clients the swarming nations that
       inhabit it! Why what is the republic of America for an eye-water
       country? Lord bless you, it is nothing but a barren highway that you've
       got to cross to get to the true eye-water market! Why, Washington, in
       the Oriental countries people swarm like the sands of the desert; every
       square mile of ground upholds its thousands upon thousands of struggling
       human creatures--and every separate and individual devil of them's got
       the ophthalmia! It's as natural to them as noses are--and sin. It's
       born with them, it stays with them, it's all that some of them have left
       when they die. Three years of introductory trade in the orient and what
       will be the result? Why, our headquarters would be in Constantinople and
       our hindquarters in Further India! Factories and warehouses in Cairo,
       Ispahan, Bagdad, Damascus, Jerusalem, Yedo, Peking, Bangkok, Delhi,
       Bombay--and Calcutta! Annual income--well, God only knows how many
       millions and millions apiece!"
       Washington was so dazed, so bewildered--his heart and his eyes had
       wandered so far away among the strange lands beyond the seas, and such
       avalanches of coin and currency had fluttered and jingled confusedly down
       before him, that he was now as one who has been whirling round and round
       for a time, and, stopping all at once, finds his surroundings still
       whirling and all objects a dancing chaos. However, little by little the
       Sellers family cooled down and crystalized into shape, and the poor room
       lost its glitter and resumed its poverty. Then the youth found his voice
       and begged Sellers to drop everything and hurry up the eye-water; and he
       got his eighteen dollars and tried to force it upon the Colonel--pleaded
       with him to take it--implored him to do it. But the Colonel would not;
       said he would not need the capital (in his native magnificent way he
       called that eighteen dollars Capital) till the eye-water was an
       accomplished fact. He made Washington easy in his mind, though, by
       promising that he would call for it just as soon as the invention was
       finished, and he added the glad tidings that nobody but just they two
       should be admitted to a share in the speculation.
       When Washington left the breakfast table he could have worshiped that
       man. Washington was one of that kind of people whose hopes are in the
       very, clouds one day and in the gutter the next. He walked on air, now.
       The Colonel was ready to take him around and introduce him to the
       employment he had found for him, but Washington begged for a few moments
       in which to write home; with his kind of people, to ride to-day's new
       interest to death and put off yesterday's till another time, is nature
       itself. He ran up stairs and wrote glowingly, enthusiastically, to his
       mother about the hogs and the corn, the banks and the eye-water--and
       added a few inconsequential millions to each project. And he said that
       people little dreamed what a man Col. Sellers was, and that the world
       would open its eyes when it found out. And he closed his letter thus:
       "So make yourself perfectly easy, mother-in a little while you shall have
       everything you want, and more. I am not likely to stint you in anything,
       I fancy. This money will not be for me, alone, but for all of us.
       I want all to share alike; and there is going to be far more for each
       than one person can spend. Break it to father cautiously--you understand
       the need of that--break it to him cautiously, for he has had such cruel
       hard fortune, and is so stricken by it that great good news might
       prostrate him more surely than even bad, for he is used to the bad but
       is grown sadly unaccustomed to the other. Tell Laura--tell all the
       children. And write to Clay about it if he is not with you yet. You may
       tell Clay that whatever I get he can freely share in-freely. He knows
       that that is true--there will be no need that I should swear to that to
       make him believe it. Good-bye--and mind what I say: Rest perfectly easy,
       one and all of you, for our troubles are nearly at an end."
       Poor lad, he could not know that his mother would cry some loving,
       compassionate tears over his letter and put off the family with a
       synopsis of its contents which conveyed a deal of love to then but not
       much idea of his prospects or projects. And he never dreamed that such a
       joyful letter could sadden her and fill her night with sighs, and
       troubled thoughts, and bodings of the future, instead of filling it with
       peace and blessing it with restful sleep.
       When the letter was done, Washington and the Colonel sallied forth, and
       as they walked along Washington learned what he was to be. He was to be
       a clerk in a real estate office. Instantly the fickle youth's dreams
       forsook the magic eye-water and flew back to the Tennessee Land. And the
       gorgeous possibilities of that great domain straightway began to occupy
       his imagination to such a degree that he could scarcely manage to keep
       even enough of his attention upon the Colonel's talk to retain the
       general run of what he was saying. He was glad it was a real estate
       office--he was a made man now, sure.
       The Colonel said that General Boswell was a rich man and had a good and
       growing business; and that Washington's work world be light and he would
       get forty dollars a month and be boarded and lodged in the General's
       family--which was as good as ten dollars more; and even better, for he
       could not live as well even at the "City Hotel" as he would there, and
       yet the hotel charged fifteen dollars a month where a man had a good
       room.
       General Boswell was in his office; a comfortable looking place, with
       plenty of outline maps hanging about the walls and in the windows, and
       a spectacled man was marking out another one on a long table. The office
       was in the principal street. The General received Washington with a
       kindly but reserved politeness. Washington rather liked his looks.
       He was about fifty years old, dignified, well preserved and well dressed.
       After the Colonel took his leave, the General talked a while with
       Washington--his talk consisting chiefly of instructions about the
       clerical duties of the place. He seemed satisfied as to Washington's
       ability to take care of the books, he was evidently a pretty fair
       theoretical bookkeeper, and experience would soon harden theory into
       practice. By and by dinner-time came, and the two walked to the
       General's house; and now Washington noticed an instinct in himself that
       moved him to keep not in the General's rear, exactly, but yet not at his
       side--somehow the old gentleman's dignity and reserve did not inspire
       familiarity.
       Content of CHAPTER VIII [Mark Twain/C. D. Warner's novel: The Gilded Age]
       _