Slow and Sure
"You'd better take the whole case. These goods will sell as fast asthey can be measured off."The young man to whom this was said by the polite and active partnerin a certain jobbing house in Philadelphia, shook his head andreplied firmly--"No, Mr. Johnson. Three pieces are enough for my sales. If they gooff quickly, I can easily get more.""I don't know about that, Mr. Watson," replied the jobber. "I shallbe greatly mistaken if we have a case of these goods left by the endof a week. Every one who looks at them, buys. Miller bought twowhole cases this morning. In the original packages, we sell them ata half cent per yard lower than by the piece.""If they are gone, I can buy something else," said the cautiouspurchaser."Then you won't let me sell you a case?""No, sir.""You buy too cautiously," said Johnson."Do you think so?""I know so. The fact is, I can sell some of your neighbors as muchin an hour as I can sell you in a week. We jobbers would starve ifthere were no more active men in the trade than you are, friendWatson."Watson smiled in a quiet, self-satisfied way as he replied--"The number of wholesale dealers might be diminished; but failuresamong them would be of less frequent occurrence. Slow and sure, ismy motto.""Slow and sure don't make much headway in these times. Enterprise isthe word. A man has to be swift-footed to keep up with the generalmovement.""I don't expect to get rich in a day," said Watson."You'll hardly be disappointed in your expectation," remarkedJohnson, a little sarcastically. His customer did not notice thefeeling his tones expressed, but went on to select a piece or two ofgoods, here and there, from various packages, as the styles happenedto suit him."Five per cent. off for cash, I suppose," said Watson, aftercompleting his purchase."Oh, certainly," replied the dealer. "Do you wish to cash the bill?""Yes; I wish to do a cash business as far as I can. It is ratherslow work at first; but it is safest, and sure to come out right inthe end.""You're behind the times, Watson," said Johnson, shaking his head."Tell me--who can do the most profitable business, a man with acapital of five thousand dollars, or a man with twenty thousand?""The latter, of course.""Very well. Don't you understand that credit is capital?""It isn't cash capital.""What is the difference, pray, between the profit on ten thousanddollars' worth of goods purchased on time or purchased for cash?""Just five hundred dollars," said Watson."How do you make that out?" The jobber did not see the meaning ofhis customer."You discount five per cent. for cash, don't you?" replied Watson,smiling."True. But, if you don't happen to have the ten thousand dollarscash, at the time you wish to make a purchase, don't you see what anadvantage credit gives you? Estimate the profit at twenty per cent.on a cash purchase, and your credit enables you to make fifteen percent. where you would have made nothing.""All very good theory," said Watson. "It looks beautiful on paper.Thousands have figured themselves out rich in this way, but, alas!discovered themselves poor in the end. If all would work justright--if the thousands of dollars of goods bought on credit wouldinvariably sell at good profit and in time to meet the purchasenotes, then your credit business would be first rate. But, my littleobservation tells me that this isn't always the case--that yourlarge credit men are forever on the street, money hunting, insteadof in their stores looking after their business. Instead of gettingdiscounts that add to their profits, they are constantly sufferingdiscounts of the other kind; and, too often, these, and theaccumulating stock of unsaleable goods--the consequence of credittemptations in purchasing--reduce the fifteen per cent. you speak ofdown to ten, and even five per cent. A large business makes largestore-expenses; and these eat away a serious amount of small profitson large sales. Better sell twenty thousand dollars' worth of goodsat twenty per cent. profit, than eighty thousand at five per cent.You can do it with less labor, less anxiety, and at less cost forrent and clerk hire. At least, Mr. Johnson, this is my mode ofreasoning.""Well, plod along," replied Johnson. "Little boats keep near theshore. But, let me tell you, my young friend, your mind is rathertoo limited for a merchant of this day. There is Mortimer, who beganbusiness about the time you did. How much do you think he has madeby a good credit?""I'm sure I don't know.""Fifty thousand dollars.""And by the next turn of fortune's wheel, may lose it all.""Not he. Mortimer, though young, is too shrewd a merchant for that.Do you know that he made ten thousand by the late rise in cotton;and all without touching a dollar in his business?""I heard something of it. But, suppose prices had receded instead ofadvancing? What of this good credit, then?""You're too timid--too prudent, Watson," said the merchant, "andwill be left behind in the race for prosperity by men of half yourability.""No matter; I will be content," was the reply of Watson.It happened, a short time after this little interchange of views onbusiness matters, that Watson met the daughter of Mr. Johnson in acompany where he chanced to be. She was an accomplished andinteresting young woman, and pleased Watson particularly; and it isbut truth to say, that she was equally well pleased with him.The father, who was present, saw, with a slight feeling ofdisapprobation, the lively conversation that passed between theyoung man and his daughter; and when an occasion offered, a day ortwo afterwards, made it a point to refer to him in a way to give theimpression that he held him in light estimation. Flora, that was thedaughter's name, did not appear to notice his remark. One evening,not long after this, as the family of Mr. Johnson were about leavingthe tea-table, where they had remained later than usual, a domesticannounced that there was a gentleman in the parlor."Who is it?" inquired Flora."Mr. Mortimer," was answered.An expression of dislike came into the face of Flora, as she said--"He didn't ask for me?""Yes," was the servant's reply."Tell him that I'm engaged, Nancy.""No, no!" said Mr. Johnson, quickly. "This would not be right. Areyou engaged?""That means, father, that I don't wish to see him; and he will sounderstand me.""Don't wish to see him? Why not?""Because I don't like him.""Don't like him?" Mr. Johnson's manner was slightly impatient."Perhaps you don't know him."The way in which her father spoke, rather embarrassed Flora. Shecast down her eye and stood for a few moments."Tell Mr. Mortimer that I will see him in a little while," she thensaid, and, as the domestic retired to give the answer, she ascendedto her chamber to make some slight additions to her toilet.To meet the young man by constraint, as it were, was only toincrease in Flora's mind the dislike she had expressed. So coldlyand formally was Mortimer received, that he found his visit ratherunpleasant than agreeable, and retired, after sitting an hour,somewhat puzzled as to the real estimation in which he was held bythe lady, for whom he felt more than a slight preference.Mr. Johnson was very much inclined to estimate others by amoney-standard of valuation. A man was a man, in his eyes, when hepossessed those qualities of mind that would enable him to make hisway in the world--in other words, to get rich. It was this abilityin Mortimer that elevated him in his regard, and produced a feelingof pleasure when he saw him inclined to pay attention to hisdaughter. And it was the apparent want of this ability in Watson,that caused him to be lightly esteemed.Men like Mr. Johnson are never very wise in their estimates ofcharacter; nor do they usually adopt the best means of attainingtheir ends when they meet with opposition. This was illustrated inthe present case. Mortimer was frequently referred to in thepresence of Flora, and praised in the highest terms; while the baremention of Watson's name was sure to occasion a series ofdisparaging remarks. The effect was just the opposite of what wasintended. The more her father said in favor of the thrifty youngmerchant, the stronger was the repugnance felt towards him by Flora;and the more he had to say against Watson, the better she liked him.This went on until there came a formal application from Mortimer forthe hand of Flora. It was made to Mr. Johnson first, who replied tothe young man that if he could win the maiden's favor, he had hisfull approval. But to win the maiden's favor was not so easy a task,as the young man soon found. His offered hand was firmly declined."Am I to consider your present decision as final?" said the youngman, in surprise and disappointment."I wish you to do so, Mr. Mortimer," said Flora."Your father approves my suit," said he. "I have his full consent tomake you this offer of my hand.""I cannot but feel flattered at your preference," returned Flora;"but, to accept your offer, would not be just either to you ormyself. I, therefore, wish you to understand me as being entirely inearnest."This closed the interview and definitely settled the question. WhenMr. Johnson learned that the offer of Mortimer had been declined, hewas very angry with his daughter, and, in the passionate excitementof his feelings, committed a piece of folly for which he felt animmediate sense of shame and regret.The interview between Mr. Mortimer and Flora took place during theafternoon, and Mr. Johnson learned the result from a note receivedfrom the disappointed young man, just as he was about leaving hisstore to return home. Flora did not join the family at thetea-table, on that evening, for her mind was a good deal disturbed,and she wished to regain her calmness and self-possession beforemeeting her father.Mr. Johnson was sitting in a moody and angry state of mind about anhour after supper, when a domestic came into the room and said thatMr. Watson was in the parlor."What does he want here?" asked Mr. Johnson, in a rough, excitedvoice."He asked for Miss Flora," returned the servant."Where is she?""In her room.""Well, let her stay there. I'll see him myself."And without taking time for reflection, Mr. Johnson descended to theparlor."Mr. Watson," said he, coldly, as the young man arose and advancedtowards him.His manner caused the visitor to pause, and let the hand he hadextended fall to his side."Well, what is your wish?" asked Mr. Johnson. He looked with knitbrows into Watson's face."I have called to see your daughter Flora," returned the young man,calmly."Then, I wish you to understand that your call is not agreeable,"said the father of the young lady, with great rudeness of manner."Not agreeable to whom?" asked Watson, manifesting no excitement."Not agreeable to me," replied Mr. Johnson. "Nor agreeable to anyone in this house.""Do you speak for your daughter?" inquired the young man."I have a right to speak for her, if any one has," was the evasiveanswer.Watson bowed respectfully, and, without a word more, retired fromthe house.The calm dignity with which he had received the rough treatment ofMr. Johnson, rebuked the latter, and added a feeling of shame to hisother causes of mental disquietude.On the next day Flora received a letter from Watson, in part inthese words--"I called, last evening, but was not so fortunate as to see you.Your father met me in the parlor, and on learning that my visit wasto you, desired me not to come again. This circumstance makes itimperative on me to declare what might have been sometime longerdelayed--my sincere regard for you. If you feel towards me as yourfather does, then I have not a word more to say; but I do notbelieve this, and, therefore, I cannot let his disapproval, in amatter so intimately concerning my happiness, and it may be yours,influence me to the formation of a hasty decision. I deeply regretyour father's state of feeling. His full approval of my suit, nextto yours, I feel to be in every way desirable."But, why need I multiply words? Again, I declare that I feel foryou a sincere affection. If you can return this, say so with aslittle delay as possible; and if you cannot, be equally frank withme."Watson did not err in his belief that Flora reciprocated his tendersentiments; nor was he kept long in suspense. She made an earlyreply, avowing her own attachment, but urging him; for her sake, todo all in his power to overcome her father's prejudices. But thiswas no easy task. In the end, however, Mr. Johnson, who saw, tooplainly, that opposition on his part would be of no avail, yielded akind of forced consent that the plodding, behind-the-age youngmerchant, should lead Flora to the altar. That his daughter shouldbe content with such a man, was to him a source of deepmortification. His own expectations in regard to her had been of afar higher character."He'll never set the world on fire;" "A man of no enterprise;" "Adull plodder;" with similar allusions to his son-in-law, wereoverheard by Mr. Johnson on the night of the wedding party, andadded no little to the ill-concealed chagrin from which he suffered.They were made by individuals who belonged to the new school ofbusiness men, of whom Mortimer was a representative. He, too, waspresent. His disappointment in not obtaining the hand of Flora, hadbeen solaced in the favor of one whose social standing andmoney-value was regarded as considerably above that of the maidenwho had declined the offer of his hand. He saw Flora given toanother without a feeling of regret. A few months afterwards, hemarried the daughter of a gentleman who considered himself fortunatein obtaining a son-in-law that promised to be one of the richest menin the city.It was with a very poor grace that Mr. Johnson bore hisdisappointment; so poor, that he scarcely treated the husband of hisdaughter with becoming respect. To add to his uncomfortable feelingsby contrast, Mortimer built himself a splendid dwelling almostbeside the modest residence of Mr. Watson, and after furnishing itin the most costly and elegant style, gave a grand entertainment.Invitations to this were not extended to either Mr. Johnson's familyor to that of his son-in-law--an omission that was particularlygalling to the former.A few weeks subsequent to this, Mr. Johnson stood beside Mr. Watsonin an auction room. To the latter a sample of new goods, justintroduced, was knocked down, and when asked by the auctioneer howmany cases he would take, he replied "Two.""Say ten," whispered Mr. Johnson in his ear."Two cases are enough for my sales," quietly returned the young man."But they're a great bargain. You can sell them at an advance,"urged Mr. Johnson."Perhaps so. But I'd rather not go out of my regular line ofbusiness."By this time, the auctioneer's repeated question of "Who'll takeanother case?" had been responded to by half a dozen voices, and thelot of goods was gone."You're too prudent," said Mr. Johnson, with some impatience in hismanner."No," replied the young man, with his usual calm tone and quietsmile. "Slow and sure--that is my motto. I only buy the quantity ofan article that I am pretty sure will sell. Then I get a certainprofit, and am not troubled with paying for goods that are lying onmy shelves and depreciating in value daily.""But these wouldn't have lain on your shelves. You could have soldthem at a quarter of a cent advance to-morrow, and thus clearedsixty or seventy dollars.""That is mere speculation.""Call it what you will; it makes no difference. The chance of makinga good operation was before you, and you did not improve it. Youwill never get along at your snail's pace."There was, in the voice of Mr. Johnson, a tone of contempt thatstung Watson more than any previous remark or, action of hisfather-in-law. Thrown, for a moment, off his guard, he replied withsome warmth--"You may be sure of one thing, at least.""What?""That I shall never embarrass you with any of my fine operations.""What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Johnson."Time will explain the remark," replied Watson, turning away, andretiring from the auction room.A coolness of some months was the consequence of this littleinterview.Time proves all things. At the end of fifteen years, Mortimer, whohad gone on in the way he had begun, was reputed to be worth twohundred thousand dollars. Every thing he touched turned to money; atleast, so it appeared. His whole conversation was touching handsomeoperations in trade; and not a day passed in which he had not somestory of gains to tell. Yet, with all his heavy accumulations, hewas always engaged in money raising, and his line of discounts wasenormous. Such a thing as proper attention to business was almostout of the question, for nearly his whole time was taken up infinanciering--and some of his financial schemes were on a prettygrand scale. Watson, on the other hand, had kept plodding along inthe old way, making his regular business purchases, and graduallyextending his operations, as his profits, changing into capital,enabled him to do so. He was not anxious to get rich fast; at least,not so anxious as to suffer himself to be tempted from a safe andprudent course; and was, therefore, content to do well. By thistime, his father-in-law began to understand him a little better thanat first, and to appreciate him more highly. On more than oneoccasion, he had been in want of a few thousand dollars in anemergency, when the check of Watson promptly supplied the pressingneed.As to the real ability of Watson, few were apprised, for he nevermade a display for the sake of establishing a credit. But it wasknown to some, that he generally had a comfortable balance in thebank, and to others that he never exchanged notes, nor asked anendorser on his business paper. He always purchased for cash, andthus obtained his goods from five to seven per cent cheaper than hisneighbors; and rarely put his business paper in bank for discount ata longer date than sixty days. Under this system, his profits were,usually, ten per cent. more than the profits of many who wereengaged in the same branch of trade. His credit was so good, thatthe bank where he kept his account readily gave him all the money heasked on his regular paper, without requiring other endorsements;while many of his more dashing neighbors, who were doing half asmuch business again, were often obliged to go upon the street toraise money at from one to two per cent. a month. Moreover, as hewas always to be found at his store, and ready to give his personalattention to customers, he was able to make his own discriminationsand to form his own estimates of men--and these were generallycorrect. The result of this was, that he gradually attracted a classof dealers who were substantial men; and, in consequence, was littletroubled with bad sales.Up to this time, there had been but few changes in the externaldomestic arrangements of Mr. Watson. He had moved twice, and, eachtime, into a larger house. His increasing family made thisnecessary. But, while all was comfortable and even elegant in hisdwelling, there was no display whatever.One day, about this period, as Watson was walking with hisfather-in-law, they both paused to look at a handsome house that wasgoing up in a fashionable part of Walnut street. By the side of itwas a large building lot."I have about made up my mind to buy this lot," remarked Watson."You?" Mr. Johnson spoke in a tone of surprise."Yes. The price is ten thousand dollars. Rather high; but I like thelocation.""What will you do with it?" inquired Mr. Johnson."Build upon it.""As an investment?""No. I want a dwelling for myself.""Indeed! I was not aware that you had any such intentions.""Oh, yes. I have always intended to build a house so soon as I feltable to do it according to my own fancy."Mr. Johnson felt a good deal surprised at this. No more was said,and the two men walked on."How's this? For sale!" said Mr. Johnson. They were opposite theelegant dwelling of Mr. Mortimer, upon which was posted a hand-billsetting forth that the property was for sale."So it seems," was Watson's quiet answer."Why should he sell out?" added Mr. Johnson. "Perhaps he is going toEurope to make a tour with his family," he suggested."It is more probable," said Watson, "that he has got to the end ofhis rope.""What do you mean by that remark?""Is obliged to sell in order to save himself.""Oh, no! Mortimer is rich.""So it is said. But I never call a man rich whose paper is floatingabout by thousands on the street seeking purchasers at two per cent.a month."Just then the carriage of Mortimer drove up to his door, and Mrs.Mortimer descended to the pavement and passed into the house. Herface was pale, and had a look of deep distress. It was several yearssince Mr. Johnson remembered to have seen her, and he was almoststartled at the painful change which had taken place.A little while afterwards he looked upon the cheerful, smiling faceof his daughter Flora, and there arose in his heart, almostinvoluntarily, an emotion of thankfulness that she was not the wifeof Mortimer. Could he have seen what passed a few hours afterwards,in the dwelling of the latter, he would have been more thankful thanever.It was after eleven o'clock when Mortimer returned home that night.He had been away since morning. It was rarely that he dined with hisfamily, but usually came home early in the evening. Since seveno'clock, the tea-table had been standing in the floor, awaiting hisreturn. At eight o'clock, as he was still absent, supper was servedto the children, who, soon after, retired for the night. It wasafter eleven o'clock as we have said, before Mortimer returned. Hisface was pale and haggard. He entered quietly, by means of hisnight-key, and went noiselessly up to his chamber. He found his wifelying across the bed, where, wearied with watching, she had thrownherself and fallen asleep. For a few moments he stood looking ather, with a face in which agony and affection were blended. Then heclasped his hands suddenly against his temples, and groaned aloud.That groan penetrated the ears of his sleeping wife, who started upwith an exclamation of alarm, as her eyes saw the gesture andexpression of her husband."Oh, Henry! what is the matter? Where have you been? Why do you lookso?" she eagerly inquired.Mortimer did not reply; but continued standing like a statue ofdespair."Henry! Henry!" cried his wife, springing towards him, and layingher hands upon his arm. "Dear husband! what is the matter?""Ruined! Ruined!" now came hoarsely from the lips of Mortimer, and,with another deep groan, he threw himself on a sofa, and wrung hishands in uncontrollable anguish."Oh, Henry! speak! What does this mean?" said his wife, the tearsnow gushing from her eyes. "Tell me what has happened."But, "Ruined! Ruined!" was all the wretched man would say for a longtime. At last, however, he made a few vague explanations, to theeffect that he would be compelled to stop payment on the next day."I thought," said Mrs. Mortimer, "that the sale of this house was toafford you all the money you needed.""It is not sold yet," was all his reply to this. He did not explainthat it was under a heavy mortgage, and that, even if sold, theamount realized would be a trifle compared with his need on thefollowing day. During the greater part of the night, Mortimer walkedthe floor of his chamber; and, for a portion of the time, his wifemoved like a shadow by his side. But few words passed between them.When the day broke, Mrs. Mortimer was lying on the bed, asleep.Tears were on her cheeks. In a crib, beside her, was a fair-hairedchild, two years old, breathing sweetly in his innocent slumber; andover this crib bent the husband and father. His face was now calm,but very pale, and its expression of sadness, as he gazed upon hissleeping child, was heart-touching. For many minutes he stood overthe unconscious slumberer; then stooping down, he touched itsforehead lightly with his lips, while a low sigh struggled up fromhis bosom. Turning, then, his eyes upon his wife, he gazed at herfor some moments, with a sad, pitying look. He was bending to kissher, when a movement, as if she were about to awaken, caused him tostep back, and stand holding his breath, as if he feared the verysound would disturb her. She did not open her eyes, however, butturned over, with a low moan of suffering, and an indistinct murmurof his name.Mortimer did not again approach the bed-side, but steppednoiselessly to the chamber door, and passed into the next room,where three children, who made up the full number of his householdtreasures, were buried in tranquil sleep. Long he did not lingerhere. A hurried glance was taken of each beloved face, and a kisslaid lightly upon the lips of each. Then he left the room, movingdown the stairs with a step of fear. A moment or two more, and hewas beyond the threshold of his dwelling.When Mrs. Mortimer started up from unquiet slumber, as the firstbeams of the morning sun fell upon her face, she looked around,eagerly, for her husband. Not seeing him, she called his name. Noanswer was received, and she sprung from the bed. As she did so, aletter placed conspicuously on the bureau met her eyes. Eagerlybreaking the seal, she read this brief sentence:"Circumstances make it necessary for me to leave the city by theearliest conveyance. Say not a word of this to any one--not even toyour father. My safety depends on your silence. I will write to youin a little while. May Heaven give you strength to bear the trialsthrough which you are about to pass!"But for the instant fear for her husband, which this communicationbrought into the mind of Mrs. Mortimer, the shock would haverendered her insensible. He was in danger, and upon her discretiondepended his safety. This gave her strength for the moment. Herfirst act was to destroy the note. Next she strove to repress thewild throbbings of her heart, and to assume a calm exterior. Vainefforts! She was too weak for the trial; and who can wonder that shewas?Mr. Johnson was sitting in his store about half past three o'clockthat afternoon, when a man came in and asked him for the payment ofa note of five thousand dollars. He was a Notary."A protest!" exclaimed Mr. Johnson, in astonishment. "What does thismean?""I don't understand this," said he, after a moment or two. "I haveno paper out for that amount falling due to-day. Let me see it?"The note was handed to him."It's a forgery!" said he, promptly. "To whom is it payable?" headded. "To Mortimer, as I live!"And he handed it back to the Notary, who departed.Soon after he saw the father-in-law of Mortimer go hurriedly pasthis store. A glimpse of his countenance showed that he was stronglyagitated."Have you heard the news?" asked his son-in-law, coming in, half anhour afterwards."What?""Mortimer has been detected in a forgery!""Upon whom?""His father-in-law.""He has forged my name also.""He has!""Yes. A note for five thousand dollars was presented to me by theNotary a little while ago.""Is it possible? But this is no loss to you.""If he has resorted to forgery to sustain himself," replied Mr.Johnson, looking serious, "his affairs are, of course, in adesperate condition.""Of course.""I am on his paper to at least twenty thousand dollars.""You!""Such, I am sorry to say, is the case. And to meet that paper willtry me severely. Oh, dear! How little I dreamed of this! I thoughthim one of the soundest men in the city.""I am pained to hear that you are so deeply involved," said Mr.Watson. "But, do not let it trouble you too much. I will defer mybuilding intentions to another time, and let you have whatever moneyyou may need."Mr. Johnson made no answer. His eyes were upon the floor and histhoughts away back to the time when he had suffered the greatdisappointment of seeing his daughter marry the slow, ploddingWatson, instead of becoming the wife of the enterprising Mortimer."I will try, my son," said he, at length, in a subdued voice, "toget through without drawing upon you too largely. Ah, me! How blindI have been.""You may depend on me for at least twenty thousand dollars," repliedWatson, cheerfully; "and for even more, if it is needed."It was soon known that Mortimer had committed extensive forgeriesupon various persons, and that he had left the city. Officers wereimmediately despatched for his arrest, and in a few days he wasbrought back as a criminal. In his ruin, many others were involved.Among these was his father-in-law, who was stripped of every dollarin his old age."Slow and sure--slow and sure. Yes, Watson was right." Thus musedMr. Johnson, a few months afterwards, on hearing that Mortimer wasarraigned before the criminal court, to stand his trial for forgery."It is the safest and the best way, and certainly leads toprosperity. Ah, me! How are we drawn aside into false ways throughour eagerness to obtain wealth by a nearer road than that of patientindustry in legitimate trade. Where one is successful, a dozen areruined by this error. Slow and sure! Yes, that is the true doctrine.Watson was right, as the result has proved. Happy for me that hiswas a better experiment than that of the envied Mortimer!"
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