Rensselaer Union, Volume 6, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 October 1873 — A STOUT OF THE PANIC OF ’73. [ARTICLE]

A STOUT OF THE PANIC OF ’73.

A gloomier morning had never clouded down over the busy island of Manhattan, and so thought not only Paul Berrian himself, but hundreds of other fine fellows who, like him, were on their way to Wall street, dreading to come once more fate to face with the fearful specter which had so alarmed them the day before. Not only was the dull, persistent, noiseless rain falling in a way to have dampened men’s spirits at the best of times, but it was Friday, and that day of the week has mournful traditions of its own for Wall street, as well as for that peculiar class o tieings whose consciences remind them at limes that if not yethung they ought to be. But Paul Berrian’s thoughts were busy with the specter of the street, for he knew . nly too well how surely he would come that day to the broker’s offices wherein he earned his modest salary, and how other men would recognize the grizzly presence, and how triends ana foes alike would mutter “Bankruptcy,” and turn away for fear they might themselves look the destroyer in the face. A blue enough morning for Paul, in spite of all his brave little wife had said to cheer him before he left her, since he thought, indeed, that not even Poverty himself, Bankruptcy’s grim twin-brother, would have power to chill his courage, were it not for Madeline and their brighteyed boy. lie tried not to think of them as he sat there in the crowded car, but their faces came before him perpetually, and with them came also an accusing consciousness of the selfish rashness with which he had borne away his bride from the home where the solid wealth aud unquestionable credit of her father had stood between her and any possible approach of want. “Ah, me!” thought Paul, “The old gehtleman has held himself ripidly aloof enough up to this time. Will he be at all likely to relent —now the very thing he has predicted is coming upon us? Will he be apt to do more for me—now I am out of business and helplessly adrift—than he did when I seemed at least to have a fair chance of paddling my own canoe? I should reckon not. He isn’t that kind of a man. lie will know all about it, too, before night,’ just as everybody else will. I declare if that isn’t old Bullions himself!” And true enough, there; sat Madeline’s father, the great and prosperous banker, only a few seats ahead of him, apparently absorbed in the perusal of his morning paper. Paul took no note of the fact that the paper was upside down, and bent his head gloomily forward as if he could take a prophetic view of futurity through the bottom of the car. He saw as he looked along the narrow passage between the seats, that the banker’s left arm hung for a moment loosely and listlessly down, swaying a little with the oscillations of the car, and thus that the fingers of his hand opened in a limp, nerveless sort of way, letting fall a half crumpled scrap of paper upon the floor. “Did he mean to throw it away ? Some worthless memorandum.” Paul did not stop to guess, but, as the white scrap drifted by him, he reached out and picked it up. Not with any mean curiosity, for Paul was the soul ot honpr in business affairs; but, nevertheless, he caught sight of a raggedly written column of well-known business names, with what pecmed to be sum-totals of cash amounts carried out opposite each one of them, while all the rest of the paper was covered closely with penciled memoranda, figures, names, such as any great banker might well be jotting down at such a time, or at any other, but into the meaning whereof Paul had no -earthly notion of prying. Then he saw his father-in-law’s hand suddenly grip-hard andopen again.aeif astonished to find his clutch empty of what it sought, and he knew that the paper had been dropped unintentionally. 01 course, therefore, when the banker arose hastily to peer about him on the seat and along the floor, Paul could do no less than rise also, with all politeness, and make an immediate tender of his crumpled prize. The old gentleman grasped for his memorandum with an eagerness quite foreign to his usually stately manner, while the flush of his withered face betokened anything but pleasure at the idea of accepting a courtesy from his daughter’s pauper husband. His acknowledgments were every hit as crusty as Paul could have anticipated, and he resumed his seat, apparently only to bury himself in a yet profounder study of the news and of his recovered manuscript. “Hard as ever!" thought Paul. “Well, if matters come to the worst, I’ll never go near him. I’ll take Greeley’s advice and go West before I ask bim-fof one cent of help.” • 7' Bravo for Paul’s pluck I But when, a few minutes later, the partner of his enrseat arose and went on into another car, the young man was astonished by the vision of Madeline's father coming to take his place. He could hardly believe his eyes, but there was no need of that, since the banker’s hand was now upon his arm. The flush Was again upon his face, and

his hard, keen old features seemed trying to shape themselves into an expression of friendly and confidential interest. Paul thought of Madeline and their boy, and of the specter on the street. “He doesn’t know our house is bankrupt yet," he almost said aloud, “But he will before night. He won’t want anything more of me then.” The old banker asked several questions about his daughter, his grandson, the news, and other, matters, before he or Paul became fairly accustomed to the situation, and then he broke out suddenly with: “Paul, my dear boy, I know I can trust your honor. I’ll say that for you, anyhow ; but isn’t there something I can do for you? Within the bounds of reason now; but what shall it be? These arc awful times for us all, my boy.” Paul Berrian Knew he was not dreaming, for at that moment the train drew up with a bigger pump than usual at the Jersey ferry stopping-place; but if it had not been for that he would have tried to turn over in bed and see if the baby were all right. Still, as he caught up his overcoat and umbrella, he managed to find words for the first idea that came to his confused brains: “I don’t know, just at this moment, unless you will Buy me a thousand shares of Harlem at these panic prices, and hold it for the rise that is dead certain to come.” “Tip top! A right down good business operation!” jerked out the old gentleman. “I’ll do it for you, first thing, when I get on the street. Come around in an hour or so and see me about it.” —ffNo-margius,-yx>u~know7! replied-Jiis. half-dazed son-ip-law, as they hurried toward the ferry. “Of course not; but mum’s the word, understand?” said the banker, and in another moment a half-dozen of his brother-financiers had seized upon him, and Paul Berrian was left to his own devices.Deeper and damper settled the rainy floom of the panic Friday, and the faces.. 'aul met on arriving at the office of his employers were all in keeping with the weather, while crowds of gloomy men hurried to and fro through the muddy streets, hunted hither and thither by the omnipresent specter of bankruptcy. Paul had duties to attend to, plenty of them, and it was a good while before he could manage to get away for even the moment of time required for a run to his father-in-law’s spacious and elegant establishment. Near as it was; “however,,it was the first time he had crossed that threshold for many a long day. A feeling of and hesitation came over him, even now, but he thought of Madeline and his boy, and pushed bravely on into the banker’s private door. The old gentleman was seated in close conference with his partners, and he looked up for a moment with a weary, worn, troubled look on his face, that changed into a flush and a sickly smile as he recognized Paul. “Is that you, my boy?” he said. “It’s all right. Can’t stop to talk to you now, but I got it at ninety. Just the very bottom of the market,; It’s above that now. You’re a lucky dog, after all.” ““ And, as the banker turned to his partners again, Paul Berrian turned toward the door, but a sudden impulse moved him to say, with his hands on the knob—- “ Well, under the circumstances, you know, I think I’d rather not hold on. Suppose you sell out for me the first thing to morrow morning, hit or miss.” “Right again!" exclaimed the banker. “I can make that safe for you. four firm’s failed, hasn’t it? Of course. Well, never mind; only donjt bother me now. Look in to-morrow.” And Paul returned to the gloomy countenances in the gloomy office of his ruined employers, half inclined to subject himself to some trial test of human sanity. The day wore slowly away, and Paul was busy enough, but he made out, now and then, to take a hurried look at the stocklist. It -was an eminently sat isfactory sort of look to him, if not to many others, if he could have only assured himself that the whole thing was not an hallucination. Somehow or other his thoughts never once reverted to the crumpled bit of paper he had picked up in the car, that morning, and when he saw Madeline that evening he only told her how unusually kind her father had been to him, without saying anything about so strange a myth as the thousand shares of Harlem stock. The next morning Paul Berrian started for Wall street at his customary hour, though there was likely to be but a dull day’s business at the office of the bankrupt firm. Dull as was the look of matters there, however, it was a good deal after eleven o’clock before he could muster courage to go over and make inquiries about his wonderful purchase. “Heard thenews?’texclaimed his father-in-law, as he entered. “The Union Trust Company? The bottom’s out—now, sure enough. Oh, that Harlem. Well, my dear boy, I took care of you. Closed it out for you the first thing. Got a hundred and ten. Twenty thousand net profit. There’s a certified check for it; you see 1,, looked out for you in the event of—you” know what; but mum’s the word yet, for there’s no telling. Well, I will say you’re a lucky dog, and I never saw a quicker turn. Can’t stop to talk with you now, my boy; but you can’t say I didn’t do the fair thing by you.” Paul took his check, and was standing, in a sort of grey stupor, looking at it, when the old banker arose and went for a look at the recording telegraph instrument that was clicking fiercely in the corner. “Hurra!” he suddenly shouted, with more power .of lungs than Paul would have given him credit for. “Hurra! The Stock Exchange has closed! It’s all right, now, Paul, my boy. All I needed was time, and this will give me all I want. You understand me, though—mum’s the word, even now. I’ll trust your honor, though; 1 know lean dothat, and I’m right down glad you’ve made so good a turn. Go home, and tell Madeline I’m coming up to see her and the boy. Il’s all right.” ' Paul was ready to believe him,' for he had fingered his check until he was sure it was real. He did go home and tell Madeline, and he hugged his boy to a wonderful extent that night, but it was not until several days afterward, as he sat in the cars bound cityward, studying what use he had best make of his suddenly acquired capital, that the thought came burning into his mind, “ What could there have been in that paper! The old gentleman must have thought I read it! Well, I didn’t, but I’m glad he made that turn in Harlem for me.”— N. F. Evening Mail. Tub Secretary of the Treasury has decided that canal-boats are not subject to the United States inspection laws, provided the boat is navigated exclusively on canals, and in no other waters.