mm ilMI Pppi^iPp.^^1 &&£■ *:''rf 5 'y .i/i*/ V fc' - ' ' ■■;■■- , '.;•> • Mpltl vi»- cfi ■'." * * ■ ■ *■ . •. • *-. ^ Vi f>. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/perilsofpearlstrOOgree THE PERILS INCLUDING A TASTE OF THE DANGERS OF WALL STREET, t BY A LATE MERCHANT. “ A fellow who hath had losses.” — Shahspearf,, PUBLISHED BY BETTS & ANSTICE, AND PETER HILL, 1834. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1834, in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New-York. BLISS & WATSON, Printers, 135 Water-st. • PERILS OF PEARL STREET. » THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. CHAPTER I. Containing a slight survey of the ground . Of all the various professions, occupations, or eixo ployments of life, none perhaps afford greater vicissi- tudes than that of the merchant. None exhibit greater changes of fortune; none lead through more trials and difficulties ; none expose their votaries to severer hazards of shipwreck, both in money and reputation. To-day they are floating with gentle gales on the tide of prosperity; to-morrow they are driven by fierce winds on the rocks of adversity. To-day all is sun- shine and hope ; to-morrow all is clouds and despon- dency. The wheel of fortune is constantly moving ; some are making, and some are breaking. The merchant knows little to-day of what he shall be on the morrow; and his drafts on futurity, in spite of present appearances, are very likely to be dishonored. Whatever indebtedness 2 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. \ \ G the present may acknowledge, the future will coldly say, I owe him nothing. It would astonish those who are not in the secrets of trade, to know what troubles, what embarrassments those suffer who are fairly in for it. Those, who are out of the melee, look upon those who are in, and envy their condition. They see them busy running to and fro : buying and selling goods and merchandize ; handling notes and bills of exchange ; and counting and fingering cash. They fancy that all is fair within, as it seems without. They have no conception of the daily miseries of trade. They have no idea of the vexatious shifts the merchant is driven to. Thejr have never been used to the exercise of shinning ; they have never been compelled to fly the kite ; they have never been forced to beat the drum ; they have never had occasion for the services of Peter Funk. Ah ! sigh these lookers on, as they behold the mer- chant up to the eyes in business, hoAv rich this man must be growing ! He sells a world of goods — he em- ploys a store full of clerks — he piles the boxes mountain high before his door — he takes a prodigious heap of pa- per — he has oceans of business in the bank — he is con- tinually handling the cash — he must certainly be making money like dust. Alas ! what a mistake ! The poor man, who sighs THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 7 at what seems to him the happy fortune of the merchant, does not know that the world of goods are not all paid for ; that the store full of clerks are not all profitably em- ployed ; that the mountain piles of boxes are not always filled with merchandize ; that the prodigious heap of pa- per is not always signed by responsible men ; that the oceans of business in the bank, is no better than so much borrowing and paying ; and that a man may be continu- ally handling the cash, without a sixpence ever sticking to his fingers. Of those who engage in mercantile pursuits, it is esti- mated, that not more than three in every hundred retire with absolute wealth ; while nine out of every ten be- come bankrupt. Some of these fail once, some twice, some thrice, and even more. Like adventurers in love, or in a lottery, one failure does not discourage them. They try again, and again — hoping that, though fortune may frown upon them unkindly to-day, she will smile propitiously to-morrow. The causes of the numerous failures in mercantile pursuits, may be chiefly classed under three heads; first, unavoidable losses ; second, imprudent manage- ment ; third, extravagant expenditures. Of these causes the second class is perhaps the most common; though the third is by far too frequent and too fatal. The young merchant is no sooner started in business, than he fancies himself making money ; and, relying on this 8 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET fancy, he is apt to launch into a sea of extravagance, which would swallow up a much larger income than his ; and the inevitable consequence is, that he is soon involved in ruin. Having myself for several years been engaged in mercantile pursuits; having passed through various changes of fortune during those years ; having felt much and seen more of the miseries and vexations of trade ; having witnessed many rare and curious scenes, connected in one way or other with my own pursuits ; having come in contact with some very remarkable characters in the way of business ; in a word, being pretty well experienced in the vicissitudes of trade, and pretty well versed in the affairs of Pearl street for the last ten, or a dozen years — and having, also, some knowledge of matters and things in Wall street; I pro- pose, in the following pages, to give a sketch of my own personal history during those years ; together with such other notices of men and things — such anecdotes, and such reflections, as are naturally connected with, 01 suggested by, my own history. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET, 9 CHAPTER It Which gallops rapidly over a period of twenty-one years. I was born in the smart bustling little village of Spreadaway, in the interior of the state of New-York. My father was a carpenter by trade, and nearly every building in the town had been reared by his hands. My mother was a milliner ; and if the person of any village belie was set off to advantage, or produced a killing effect on the beaux, it was in a great measure owing to her skill in moulding and fashioning them to the best advantage. Thus while my father beheld, with lauda- ble pride, the edifices springing up at the touch of his hand ; my mother was no less gratified in knowing that the beauties, who adorned those edifices, were formed and fashioned by her skill. From this account of my parents it will be seen, that they were persons of no little importance in the village of Spreadaway. There were a few persons indeed, who held themselves to be somewhat above them. Such, for instance, were the families of the two parsons, the three lawyers, the four doctors, and half a dozen merchants, 2 * IQ THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET But neither my father nor my mother were willing to acknowledge this superiority. They considered their claims to gentility to be quite equal to those of any of their neighbors ; and in fact these claims were so far al- lowed, that my parents never failed to he invited by the first families to all their wedding parties, and to such other gatherings as threw the doors pretty wide open to all sorts of honest and decent kind of people. With this distinction my parents were fain to he con- tent. But for my part, though I ever considered the me- chanic arts, as conferring equal dignity to any profession whatever, I could not help seeing that those who followed them could never obtain a cordial admission into what was accounted good society ; and I resolved not to he a mechanic. Farming seemed to me objectionable on the same' ground. Besides, in both these employments there was quite too much hard labor to suit my taste; for, I know not how it was, but I had become early convinced that hard work was not easy. I cdrripared these laborious occupations with the pur- suit of the merchant. I took notice of the difference be- tween' pushing the fore-plane or holding the plough, and merely standing behind the counter to measure tape, weigh tea, and wait upon the ladies. I saw that the clerks and shop-boys had comparatively an easy time of it ; and I fairty envied the dignity with which they moved about with a goose-quill behind their ear. Then THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 11 they were in the highway to good society ; which the poor mechanic or honest plough-jogger, let him work as hard as he might, could never fully attain. Considering all these things, I resolved to be a mer- chant; and, at the age of fifteen, I obtained leave of my father to stand behind the counter of Squire Daw- son, the greatest shop-keeper in all the village of Spread- away. “ Billy will make a marchant,” said my father— “ he has the right cut-out for it. He’ll go to work by the square rule. Nay, for that matter, he can work by the rule of three — and thereby he’ll thribble his money. He’s very neat at figures as the school-master informs me.” “ And then he’s nice at a bargain,” said my mother — “ I’ve seen him trade with the neighbor’s boys, and I do assure you he’s very sharp. It was no longer ago than last week, he swapped offa pair of skates for a jack-knife, and got a shilling to boot. Oh, he’ll take care of him- self, Billy will- — no fear of him.” Such were the fond observations of my parents ; and in truth, so far as the arithmetic was concerned, I was no bad proficient. I had gone through Erastus Root, and Jonathan Grout, and Nathan Daboll, from begin- ning to end. I was particularly conversant with deci- mal fractions, the rule of three, single and double fellow- ship, loss and gain; and indeed with all those rules which are necessary to men of business. Then I was 12 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. not ignorant of other useful branches of learning. I could spell accurately, read tolerably, and write a fair hand. And, what was more, I could write passable grammar — which many a merchant, I am sorry to say, cannot. Such was my school learning ; but as to my acuteness in the way of trade, I am at present sadly sus- picious my kind mother overrated my abilities. She certainly did so, if my talents in that way are to be measured by my subsequent success in pursuit of for- tune. I continued with Squire DaAVSon till I was twenty- one. I had been six years engaged in selling goods of all sorts, and in keeping books— which I had learned to do in a very fair, neat, accurate, and workmanlike man- ner. I had served out my time, and I considered myself perfectly competent to take charge of a mercantile con- cern, either as clerk or principal. But I deemed a country village, though smart and bustling as that of Spreadaway, no place for me. I resolved on coming to New- York. To be sure I had no capital, and no ready means of obtaining any. But I said to myself, I’ll clerk it awhile. My capacity for business and my integrity of character will no doubt secure me good wages. I’ll lay up my money, and shortly accumulate a capital, sufficient to commence business upon. My parents were loath to have me so far from them ; THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET 13 but they approved my spirit of enterprise, furnished me with fifty dollars of money, and declared they had no doubt but I should be a rich merchant, in time. I pro- cured recommendations, both of character and capacity, from Squire Dawson, as likewise from the minister of our church, the doctor of our family, and the lawyer, with whom we had most intercourse. Thus provided, I badq good-bye to my friends ; kissed Mary Dawson, with a bumping heart ; and set out to seek my fortune in the city of New-York, 14 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. CHAPTER III. Wherein are set forth the miseries of a country youth , seeking employment in a strange city. As I approaehed the city in the steamboat, and sur- veyed the tall spires and crowded chimneys of the Com- mercial Emporium, my heart beat high, and the most lively hopes danced merrily in my imagination. I beheld myself, in prospect, a rich man, with a fine house, a store full of merchandize, money in the bank, servants in livery, a coach and four, together with all the “ Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious wealth But, alas ! it is much easier to lay plans for the ad- vancement of fortune, than to bring them to a successful issue. I soon found myself in the city of New- Y ork ; but I was alone in the midst of a hundred and fifty thou- sand people — that is to say, I knew nobody, and nobody seemed to care in the least about knowing me. To get employment, where so many are seeking it, is no easy matter; and to contend successfully against candidates, perhaps as well qualified as myself, and certainly pos- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 15 sessing some advantages over me in the flexibility of their manners, or the possession of city acquaintance, I soon found was not a thing of very rational expecta- tion. I nevertheless began to exert myself most vigorously in search of a place. My design was, if possible, to get into a wholesale store — both because I expected larger wages, and because I considered it a more dignified birth than a place in a mere retail establishment. Full of these ideas, I made directly for Pearl street, and in- quired, at the first store I came to, if they were in want of a clerk ? “No,” said a long-faced man, standing at the door-r- “ I have more clerks now than business. I hav’nt sold a single piede of goods to-day; and unless business im proves between this and to-morrow, I shall dismiss two of the clerks I now have.” Little chance for me here ! thought I, and so I moved on to the next store. “ Do you want a clerk here?” bowing to a fat man at the desk. “No; I have three as good fellows as ever drummed a customer, footed a bill, or made a dear piece of goods appear a cheap one. And three clerks are as many as I can afford to keep at present.” I marched on-— “ Do you want a clerk?” “ No.” 16 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. I marched again — “ Do you want a clerk here?” “ No, sir — but they want one at the next door.” My hopes now began to brighten. I proceeded to the next door, and seeing a little old crabbed-looking gentle- man, whom I took to be the principal man of the con- cern, I told him I understood he was in want of a clerk. “ A dark ! ” said he, “ who told you that lie?” “ I don’t know whether it’s a lie, or not,” said I, “but I got the information at the next door.” “ Well, sir, you go back and tell the fools at the next door to mind their own business, and not meddle with mine.” I saw that I had been imposed upon, but I did not intend to take any notice of it to the witless wags, who had thus taken the liberty of sporting with a stranger : but, on coming out of the store, I saw the fellow who had given me the false information, had been peeping in at the old gentleman’s door to see the result. This raised my dander , as they used to say in the country; and as the rascal turned to retreat with a horse-laugh, I kicked him into the gutter, and a general shout was now Taised at his expense. “Well done! young man,” said the little crabbed- looking old gentleman — “ if I had’nt more darks than I can afford already, I’d employ you for that very thing. I’m glad you kicked the rascal.” For my own part, without deigning to trouble myself THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 17 farther with the man in the gutter, I walked on in search of a place. But I walked in vain. It was all, “ No” — " No”-— to my anxious inquiries. But resolving not to be discouraged, I continued on, through all the crooks and turns of Pearl street ; and began to think my fortune as crooked as the street itself. From this street I passed into others. I tried Broad- way, Maiden Lane, Water, Front and South streets. I wished, as I said before, to get into a wholesale employ- ment. I preferred one in the dry goods line. But I was equally well prepared for hardware or groceries ; and was ready to turn my hand to any thing that was honest, in the way of selling goods, figuring accounts, or fingering cash. Nor was I so particular about whole- sale business, but that I would upon a pinch accept of a place in a retail establishment. But my tramping up and down the city, was of little use, except to blister my feet, and wear out my shoes. A countryman, like a Jersey horse, soon gets weary and lame with walking on the pavements ; and the condition of my feet and ancles reminded me of a poor limping steed, who is so foot-sore, that he can scarcely get over the ground. I was also reminded of the anecdote of a Dutchman in this city, who, being a little the worse for liquor, struck his foot against the curb-stone, and fell upon the side-walk. As he gathered himself up, he 3 18 THE PERILS OF FEARL STREET. exclaimed — “ Mein Gott ! dish tam shtony wilternish is enuff to preak a man’s pones.” From inquiring at the stores themselves, I next ap- plied at the intelligence offices. I paid my money, and like all others — as I have since learned — I found myself hoaxed. Perhaps never were greater cheats than these establishments. Strangers, from the country, are con- stantly imposed upon ; and strangers only, for citizens are too well acquainted with these misnamed intelli- gence offices, to allow themselves to be deceived. In addition to my other exertions for a place, I daily consulted the newspapers. But as often as I found a situation advertised, I found myself too late in applying : that the place was already engaged : or that there were one or two hundred applicants for the vacancy. Not succeeding in gettinga place by the advertisements of others, I next advertised myself — directing inquirers to call on the printer ; or saying, that a line addressed to X. Y, Z ., and left in the post-office, would receive immediate attention. But these proved unavailing — not being noticed at all. However, after advertising in sundry papers, and changing my initials to A. B. C., and afterwards to O. P. Q,„ I got an answer, expressed in the following terms : “ Mr. O. P. Cl. — Sir — I notis your Advertisment in to-days paper — am in THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 19 want of a clarke — and if You will cawl at 4 o’clock Shall be at lezzure to taulk with you. SAML. THUMGUDGEON. No Pearl-street.” Punctual to the hour I went, and announced myself as the Mr. O. P. Q.., whose advertisement the gentleman had been so good as to notice. “ But your real name, sir, if I may presume — ” “ Certainly, sir — my name is William Hazard.” “Hazard? — Hazard? — rather hazard- ous name that. However, young man, nothing venter, nothing have, as the saying is. But to proceed to business — I’m in want of a dark, and you’re in want of a dark -skip. Now tell me in two words, do you understand drumming?” “ No, sir — I have very little taste for martial music of any kind ; and the drum would be the last instrument I should think of playing on.” “ Martial music ! playing the drum ! — what the d — l’s the fellow dreaming of? — I see at once, sir, you won’t answer my purpose ” “ I have brought the best of recommendations, which I will show you.” As I said this, I took out the certi- ficates of Squire Dawson, the parson, the doctor, and the lawyer, which I was about handing over to the merchant. But he put them aside with contempt, declaring that there was no use in examining the papers, since I had confessed with my own mouth, that I was ignorant of the art of drumming. 20 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. “ X beg your pardon, sir,’’ said I — “ but what has drumming to do with the business of a clerkship?” “■Much — much, sir. I would not give a tape’s end: for a dark, that does’nt understand all about drumming. But there’s no use in talking to a man who do’nt know the first rudiments, as a body may say, of the mercantile life. — Good bye, Mr. Hazard. “ Good bye, sir.” From a note, indited and spelt like the above, I ought not to have conceived any very flattering hopes. But I was in want of employment, and therefore not in a con- dition to be too fastidious about the scholarship of my employer. ‘ Beggars must’nt choose,’ I thought to my- self; besides, though this man can’t spell, he may be a merchant of some consequence, and pay his clerks libe- rally and promptly. But I had missed of a place because I could not drum. ‘Oh, all ye gods at once!’ thought I, what has a mer- chant’s clerk to do with drumming? True I expect to make some noise in the world ; but it must not be by beating a piece of sheep-skin. I had now got fairly discouraged with advertising ; I had been in the city for some weeks ; my fifty dollars were nearly spent ; and I resolved, with a heavy heart, on returning forthwith to the village of Spreadway. My heaviness, however, was in some measure light- ened by remembering Mary Dawson. Sweet Mary ! I THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 21 had seen nothing like her in the whole Commercial Emporium. But to fail in my projects — to return to my native village — to acknowledge before the inquisitive people of Spreadaway, that the enterprising Mr. Hazard, the rich merchant that was going to be, could’nt compass even a clerkship — it was too bad — it was a mortification I could not well endure. But there was no help for it. Return I must — or beg — or starve. I packed up my clothes, engaged a berth on board the steamboat, and ■ but I refer the reader to the next chapter. 3 * / i>$ ^ Mnttam du&MNt flttMJMHt ' ' • •: ; r : • • . . , -- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 23 CHAPTER IV. Containing a peep at a fashionable shopping establishment. i As I was on my way to the boat, thinking of nothing less than spending another day in New- York, I chanced,, by the merest accident in the world, to stumble upon an old acquaintance of my father. He knew me — or rather suspected me — for he had never seen me before— -from the striking resemblance I bore to the old gentleman. “ Is not your name Hazard ?” said lie. “ Yes, sir.” “ A son of Jonas Hazard, of Spreadaway ?” “ Yes, sir — but the boat is ringingthe last bell, and I shall be too late.” “ That may be too. But what need is there of your going to-day.” “ I have been spending several weeks in the city, trying to get a place. I am out of employment, out of hopes, and nearly out of cash.” 24 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. “ Never mind. I’ll put you in a way of getting all three. Come, go home with me. My name is Jones — your father will recollect David Jones. We were journey- men carpenters together. But why did he not send you to me in the first place ?” “ He did not know of you being here, I suppose. I have often heard him speak of you ; of his working on the same building, &c. ; but it was always with refer- ence to some other place than New- York.” “ Ah, there it is now. I have been very forgetful about writing, and your father I dare say is always at home and at work ; and so was not aware of my being here. I’m sorry I did’nt light of you sooner. I have some acquaintance in the city, and might have been of some service to you. But come, go to my house, and we’ll see what can be done for you.” I thanked the kind-hearted Mr. Jones for his civility, and accepted his offer. I found him to be a mechanic, of good standing ; and, as a master builder, having a rather extensive acquaintance with men of wealth and influence. I also found his practice kept even pace with his professions — for he exerted himself so well in my favor, that in a very few days, I was in possession of a respectable place in Broadway. It was not, howe- ver, precisely such as I could have wished ; and Mr. Jones, being aware of my preference, promised me his influence in obtaining a wholesale employment, as soon as a favorable opportunity should offer. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 25 Mr. Joseph Smoothly, my employer, kept an extensive and fashionable dry goods establishment, which was much resorted to by the ladies. He had acquired the reputation of selling cheap, which is usually of great consequence with females, because they pride them- selves on buying bargains. But there was another thing, which, in their estima- tion, was still more in favor of Mr. Smoothly : he was a dear, sweet, smiling man. He was the mirror of fashion, and the pink of politeness. He was as neat as a new- laid egg, and as courteous as a prince. His clothes were always made of the best materials, in the newest possible fashion, and worn with the most inimitable grace. The ladies declared that it was impossible to catch him in dishabille : that, go to his store when they would, they were sure to find him dressed, and looking for all the world as though he had just come out of a bandbox. And then his manners were so very agree- able : he never spoke without smiling, and never moved without bowing. His head, when attending to the ladies, was continually on the bob, like that of a Chinese mandarin. His hands were soft and white, as though they had been steeped in new milk ; and so delicately did he handle the silks, the laces, and the muslins, that he '26 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. barely touched them with the tip of his thumb and finger. In addition to all these admirable qualities of look and motion, the ladies declared that he smelt delightfully ; that his whole person seemed to exhale perfumes ; and that, when they were in his shop, they could not help fancying themselves in the midst of Arabia the Blest. He was, besides, the most accommodating man in the world — or in all Broadway — which was the same thing. He did not, like some other shopkeepers, grudge the labor of exhibiting his goods to the inspection of bright eyes, and submitting them to the examination of fair hands, even though he was perfectly assured that he should not derive any advantage from such exceeding complaisance. He would take his goods from the shelf with a bow, unfold them with a smile, and thank the ladies for begging a pattern. With such talents for pleasing, Mr. Joseph Smoothly was accounted the very prince of retailers. His store was constantly thronged with the beauty and fashion of the city. It was the great shopping mart — or, perhaps I should say, the great shopping theatre — for the goods were rather exhibited than sold. The ladies too, while examining the merchandize, had a chance of exhi- biting themselves to the lounging beaux ; and thus, THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 27 under pretence of shopping, might possibly make a market for themselves. But where there was so much smoke, there must of eourse be some fire ; and Mr. Smoothly certainly sold a considerable quantity of goods, and at a considerable advance from the original cost. But an extensive busi- ness, with a good advance profit, does not always render the dealer rich in the end. In a large and fashionable shopping establishment, there, must be a large number of clerks, to wait promptly on the ladies ; otherwise there will he pouting, fidgetting, and withdrawing of pa- tronage. Then if the fair customer does not purchase, she must at least beg a pattern. To do otherwise, would be treat- ing the dealer very scurvily. Thus the demand for sam- ples becomes very great. It was so in the store of the obliging and accomplished Mr. Smoothly — insomuch, that I verily believe, one half his goods were disposed of in gratuitous shreds and patches. It is a most provoking thing to have any thing to do with professed shoppers. They require more attention, without offering an equivalent, than any other class of people in the world. If they are young and handsome, to be sure the clerk may consider this as a tolerable off- set for his trouble; but the master — Mr. Joseph Smooth- ly always eiccepted — is very apt to think it a poor return for his expenditure of time, money, and complaisance. 28 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. But unluckily it happens, that many a fashionable shop- per is as ugly as sin ; and yet she will take upon herself the same airs, demand the same attention, and - give the poor clerk the same trouble, as if she were a perfect beauty. I could recollect many an amusing, and at the same time, provoking exhibition of the shopping mania, during my short stay in the employ of Mr. Smoothly. There was, however, a remarkable similarity in these exhibi- tions; and something like the following might be wit- nessed almost every day. Enter Mrs. Callagain, with a reticule in one hand and a parasol in the other. Mrs. Call. Good morning, Mr Smoothly — I’ll trou- ble you to show me that bit of silk I was looking at yesterday. Smoothly. No trouble in the world, madam. I shall be delighted to show it you, because I’m sure you’ll be delighted with it. It’s really a superb piece of goods. Mrs. Call. It is certainly very fine, Mr. Smoothly — I can see it to advantage by this light — but yesterday was so cloudy — I’m glad I called again to-day. Smoothly. I’m very glad you did, Mrs. Callagain. Indeed 1 should have been very much disappointed if you had not called. Mrs. Call. Indeed I think you would have had rea- son to. It is’nt many days in the year that I miss call- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 29 mg upon you, Mr. Smoothly. I’m not so neglectful as that. But really there are some days when the weather is too bad for a lady to be out : and Mr. Callagain is so very economical, he thinks he can’t afford to keep a car- riage. However, I don’t think you have many custo- mers, more constant than myself, Mr. Smoothly. Smoothly. You may say that with perfect truth, Mrs. Callagain. Shall I cut you off a dress from this piece of silk ! Mrs. Call. Not to day, Mr. Smoothly, I’ll look at some of your lace, if you please. Smoothly. Certainly, Madam. Mrs. Call. I’m sorry to give you so much trouble, Mr. Smoothly — but — Smoothly. It’s no trouble in the world, madam. It gives me infinite pleasure to wait upon you. Mrs. Call. You are a dear good, accommodating soul, as ever breathed. I do so like to trade with a man of your politeness — Smoothly. Thank you, ma’am — I’m much obliged to you. How much of this lace will you have ? Mrs. Call. Not any to day, I thank you. Smoothly. It’s a superb article — don’t you think it is ? Mrs. Call. It is beautiful indeed — but — Smoothly. You shall have it very cheap. I would’nt sell it to every body so- — but you’re so good a customer — 4 30 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. Mrs. Call. I am a. great customer to you, Mr. Smoothly, that’s true. But as for the price — I hope you don’t think that’s any object to me? Smoothly. None in the world, Mrs. Callagain — and yet — Mrs. Call. Shall I trouble you to show me that bit of muslin once more — Smoothly. No trouble at all ma’am. Mrs. Call. I mean the piece I looked at yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and so on. Smoothly. I regret to say that piece is all gone, Mrs. Callagain. We gave away the last of it in patterns this very day. Mrs. Call. Oh, how sorry I am! I intended to have got another pattern before it was gone. But, do tell me, who had the last ? Smoothly. Miss Begabit. Mrs. Call. Miss Begabit ! I do wonder people will be so troublesome. Smoothly. Not the least trouble in the world, ma’am. Mrs. Call. Why to be sure, where people is in the habit of buying like I am, it’s all well enough ; but for such tiresome creatures as Miss Begabit, who do nothing but shop, shop, all day long, and every day in the week — it’s too bad. By the by, Mr. Smoothly, now I think of it, have you sold that piece of calico I took a pattern of about a month ago, and told you to lay by for me ? THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 31 Smoothly . No, ma’am, here it is. Mrs. Call. Thank you, Mr. Smoothly — you art a dear obliging man, it does’nt signify — and I’m so glad you hav’nt sold it, for I’ll take another pattern now. Smoothly. Certainly, ma’am. Mrs. Call. A little bigger if you please. Smoothly. Certainly — certainly, ma’am. Mrs. Call. It is a charming piece of calico. Smoothly. Superb. Mrs. Call. Shall I trouble you to lay it aside for me again ? Smoothly. No trouble in the world, ma’am. Any thing else to-day ? Mrs. Call. I’ll take another pattern of that silk, if you Smoothly. Unquestionably, madam. Any thing else to-day ? Mrs. Call. Let me see — why, yes, now I think of it, I’ll take some patterns, both of the silk and calico, for a couple of cousins of mine from the country. They’ll be delighted with them. Smoothly. Any thing else to day ? Here’s a new species of muslin — entirely a new style of goods — a su- perb article. Mrs. Call. It is beautiful. I’ll take some patterns of that, if you please — a large one for myself, and two smaller ones for my cousins. 32 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. Smoothly. Thank you, madam — much obliged to you. Any thing else to day % Mrs. Call. Nothing more, that I can think of now — ah, yes, I’d like to have forgot myself. I’ll take a yard of your tape, if you please — the cheapest kind. I always buy something you know. It would’nt be right to give you so much trouble for nothing. Smoothly, Don’t speak of the trouble, Mrs. Calla- gam, I beg of you. Mrs. Call. Oh ! if there aint that odious Miss Bega- bit, coming in this very moment; I wonder how you can endure such a troublesome thing as she is. For my part I can’t bear the sight of her. Good bye, Mr Smoothly — never mind the tape now — I’ll call again to- morrow. [Exit. Poor Joseph Smoothly! he bowed and smiled, and then turned to wait on Miss Begabit. And so it went on from day to day. He did an immense business, such as it was; but he did a business which would have ruined any man. It was much like that of a certain nameless character, when he sheared the swine : ' Great cry and little wool.’ Mr. Smoothly was to pay me quarterly, at the rate of three hundred dollars per annum But before the first quarter had expired, he failed. Poor man ! he fell a martyr to his excessive politeness. All he had left in his store, was a few odds and ends, strangely cut and THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 33 notched by the practice of giving patterns ; and all his money and effects would not pay ten cents on the dollar. I had not designed, as I mentioned before, to continue very long as a retail clerk; and my friend Davy Jones — as he was familiarly called — having in the meantime been on the look-out for my interest, procured me a situation in Pearl street, into which I was inducted pretty soon after the failure of my employer, in Broadway. 4 * 1 >• ' - THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 35 CHAPTER V. Wherein the hero gets into difficulty with his landlady — of whom , together with her house, the reader is treated to a faithful sketch . Behold what a change ! I. was now a clerk in Pearl street ; I was now in the high road which I meant to travel, to wealth, to happiness, and to mercantile glory. It would indeed be some little time first; but I saw the way perfectly clear before me, in which I felt sure of ultimately reaching the goal of my wishes. My salary was now six hundred dollars per annum — a gain of a hundred per cent in the space of a few short days. This looked well ; my prospects were certainly improv- ing ; and I entertained very sanguine hopes. But I was destined to a vexatious affair with my land- lady. On taking possession of my new place, I was re- quested by my employers, Messrs. Smirk, Quirk & Co. to take board at one of the principal hotels, for the con- venience of drumming — they agreeing to pay the difference between the price of board at a public and 36 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. a private house, in consideration of the advantages they expected to derive from the change. Expecting to receive my money from Mr. Smoothly at the end of a quarter, I had agreed to pay Mrs. Con- niption, my landlady, at the same time. But the failure of my employer caused the failure of his clerk — at least so far as it regarded the engagement with Mrs. Con- niption. This the good lady very well knew; but when I left her house, to go to my new lodgings — though I assured her she should he paid, as soon as I could receive money from Messrs. Smirk, Quirk & Co., she seized upon my trunk of clothes, as security for the debt. I suppose, at least, she took them for security, for I am pretty certain she could not have designed to wear them upon her own lovely person, which was somewhat about twice my circumference, with a little more than half my length. At all events, the articles, which she seized, saving such things as I happened to have on, constituted my entire wardrobe; to wit, two pair of stockings, one vest, one pair of pantaloons, one dress-coat, one surtout, two nightcaps, three cravats, one pair of hoots, and one pair of slippers. False collars had scarcely then come in fashion ; and dickies, and all other apologies for a shirt, I heartily despised. But apropos of my landlady. I must give a short account of her. As I have just hinted, she was a short THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 37 woman. True, she was short in every sense of the word. Her person was short; her neck was short ; her fingers were short ; her provisions were short ; and she was short and crusty. In speaking of her short- ness, however, I should perhaps except her tongue, which upon certain occasions was quite long enough. She was a little, squat old woman, somewhat wrinkled in the face, somewhat sharp in the matter of a nose, and particularly sharp in the matter of money. Such was Mrs. Conniption. She kept a four-dollar boarding house; and made money, not so much by the high price which she exacted of her guests, as by the low price of the conveniences with which she furnish- ed them. Her charge for board and lodging was suffi- ciently moderate ; but the rate, at which she purchaser- provisions for bed and board, was quite too moderate. And this was the secret of Mrs. Conniption’s wealtn. She made money by stinting her boarders. She pur- chased the cheapest articles in the market — the very re- fuse of more generous house-keepers. Whether it was meat, vegetables, or fruit, she took care to obtain such only as could be purchased at half price. Fifty per cent, said she to herself, is worth saving; and as for my boarders — la ! they’ll never know the difference. But my pocket will feel it most sensibly. As for me, I might say my stomach felt it most sensi- bly. 1 shall never forget the impression of Mrs. Con 38 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. niption’s boarding house, the longest day I have to live. I seem at this moment to see every thing before me, as it happened at the time. I will give a picture — merely the picture of a day. I must begin then with the breakfast table. There were some fifteen or twenty boarders, and at least two dishes — a salt shad, or mackerel, and a lean beef steak, which had been dried, not broiled, over the coals. Per- haps one or the other of these, for a rarity, was alter- nated with stale sausages, or salt leg of pork — salted almost beyond the possibility of being eaten. No fowls, no eggs, no oysters, ever made their way to the break- fast table. Along with the fish or flesh, the stale sausa- ges or trebly-salted pork, might be seen a plate or two of bread, sometimes of rye, sometimes of wheat, baked by Mrs. Conniption herself, thoroughly soured, and as heavy as a grindstone ; but no admittance was allowed to toast, buckwheat cakes, or hot rolls. There was a small quantity of butter, such as it was ; but its color was nearly as various as the rainbow ; and after having been doubly salted at home to make it weigh more, it had been salted again by Mrs. Conniption to make it go the further with her boarders. So much for the morning eatahles. At the head of the table sat the sweet lady herself, drawing from a coffee urn and distributing — oh heavens! I have not yet found a name for it. The basis of it, however, was wa- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 39 ter, drawn from the Manhattan hydrant or the pump, which in its purest state was scarcely drinkable. Added to this was a small quantity of damaged coffee, burnt crust, or roasted rye, well pulverised — which, having boiled awhile, was thoroughly incorporated with the water 5 and both drawn together into the cups, exhibited, when combined with a little milk, very much the ap- pearance of ashes and water. The taste of this strange mixture, being indescribable, I leave to the reader’s imagination. The lady presidentess never asked, Is your coffee — she certainly called it coffee ! — I say, she never asked, Is your coffee agreeable, sir? — Do I make your coffee to suit you, madam ? lest some one should have the impudence to ask for more sugar or milk, and she should he a loser by her ill-judged politeness. At the dinner table, the picture was a shade or two brighter. But here there was nothing to boast of — for the meat, having been bought at a reduced price in the market, did not of course consist of the prime pieces ; and, what was worse still, it was spoilt in the cooking. If roasted, it had never felt the softening and savory influence of the basting-spoon ; hut was as dry as a chip, and to- tally destitute of any inviting qualities. Add to this, it was accompanied by no gravy — or nothing deserving of that title — the contents of the attending butter-boat being neither more nor less than unmingled grease at the top, a watery mixture in the middle, and a variously compound- 40 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. ed sediment of salt and other ingredients at the bottom Such was the character of the roast, whether it were beef, mutton, veal, or swine’s flesh. As for chickens, ducks, or poultry of any kind, they never winged their way so far as Mrs. Conniption’s table. A boiled leg of mutton was rarely seen — and when seen, was never accompa- nied by its legitimate attendant, drawn-butter-and- parsley. But roasted mutton, smelling strong of its sheepish qualities and reeking in its own grease, was seldom wanting to grace the board. For vegetables, there were round watery potatoes, sliced beats, boiled cabbage, and so forth ; but for celery — crisp, well-bleach- ed, delicious, appetite-inspiring celery — we had none of it. Wait a minute, and you shall have the dessert — and a desert indeed it was, nearly as barren of attraction as the desert of Arabia. Behold an apple dumpling, with the crust so tough, that it needed not, like that which so puzzled old King George — as said and sung by Peter Pindar — to be sewed, to keep it together ; but would rather require an axe or cleaver to cut it asunder — enclosing an apple so sour that, if you ate it, your children’s teeth would be set on edge. A pudding'made of rice and water, in which the latter ingredient most plentifully abounded ; or a batch of boiled rice, concreted nearly into the hardness of a stone, to be eaten with W. I. molasses. An apple pie, with the crust as strong as THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 41 sole-leather, enclosing here and there a hit of apple, as tart as the woman that made it ; or sweetened, if at all, merely^with that same W. I. molasses. Or perchance your eye might be feasted upon a dessert of fruits — but what fruits !— shrivelled peaches, purchased dearly at fifty cents a bushel, sour pears not worth twenty-five cents, or wormy apples not worth a shilling. But all this, was princely compared with the tea-table, which, in the first place, was nothing but a suite of bare boards — mahogany it might be, and faithfully polished — but no table can be considered as properly set without a cloth. However, it is not so much the table itself I would depict, as the articles upon it, and the mistress at the upper end of it. As at breakfast, so at tea, there sat Mrs. Conniption — heavens, what a countenance! If the milk had not been watered beyond the possibility of being soured, her face would certainly have turned it to bonnyclabber. The eatables consisted chiefly of dry bread and extra-salted butter ; but the tea, or that liquid which was so called, is the object most deserving of par- ticular admiration. How so large a quantity of be verge could be made from so small a quantity of the Chinese herb, would certainly have been matter of marvel to any one not acquainted with the economy of Mrs. Connip- tion’s boarding house. Some might suppose it was owing to a peculiar virtue in the inside of the good lady’s teapot, or to some superior quality of the herb em- 42 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. ployed. But I can assure them this was not the case ; and no person, who had ever tasted the infusion, or rather decoction, could have much doubt as to the mode of its preparation. One thimbleful of tea was put into a quart, a gallon, or some other assignable quantity of water ; and the leaves of the herb might be seen, like the wrecked Trojans, floating in a vast sea, few and far apart. Mrs. Conniption always measured her tea in a thimble. At first, the teapot was filled with water, and after a thorough decoction of the thimbleful, it was brought upon the table. As soon as it began to run low, it was again filled with water. A second pouring out took place, and it was again replenished with water. And so on, alternately pouring out and filling up, as long as there were any guests to be served. From this account of its prepara- tion, it requires no Yankee to guess at the nature of the liquid prepared. On the same general principle of economy, the boarders were not allowed to sweeten their own tea, lest they should be too profuse of the sugar : nor to cream it, lest they should draw too largely on the precious milk and water, whereof a single gill was made to serve the whole table. The presiding goddess of the teapot — alias , Mrs. Conniption — put into each cup half a tea spoonful of brown Havana sugar, and five drops of milk. If any one was dissatisfied with this quantity, and had the impudence. to send up his cup for more, she put in perhaps one fourth of a tea-spoonful of sugar, and THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 43 three other drops of milk, at the same time glancing- at him a look as if she would bite his head off But though so sparing of the sugar and milk, it is but justice to Mrs. Conniption to say, she dealt bountifully with us in the article of tea, for pump-water was cheap, and the process of pouring in, very easily supplied the exhaustion of pouring out. In short, had it not. been for the expense of sugar and milk, we might have had the tea, like a certain modern author’s poetry, — “ In one weak, washy, everlasting flood.” \ It now only remains to speak of the commodity of lodging. We had, on an average, half a dozen beds in a room, where we could sleep and snore in concert, or, if more agreeable, keep one another awake. As for that whereon we lay, there was usually a plentiful lack of feathers ; but, to make up this deficiency, we had as much straw as we could wish, and so thrown up into ridges and lumps and bumps, that we felt as if we were stretched across a pile of rails, or an assortment of cop- ple-stones. To add still further to our comfort, ever and anon our noses were assailed by the odor of one of those sanguinary animals, that come travelling over your pillow, and insist, like Shylock, upon having their pound of flesh. Sheets, which were changed once a month ; 44 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET a towel, which was changed once a fortnight ; a course ewer and basin ; and a hit of worn-out carpeting, com- pleted the furniture. Such is a slight sketch of Mrs. Conniption and her hoarding house. Of her seizure of my goods and chat- tels, I will speak further in the next chapter. THE 1’ERILS OF PEARL STREET. 45 CHAPTER VI. Wherein the hero has recourse to Davy Jones. When I first found my clothes detained, I was in no little trouble. I knew not what to do. I had not a change of linen, nor money to buy one. At first I en- deavored to soften the heart of my landlady, by gentle words and fair promises. I am not certain but I said something to her of her charming looks and amiable dis- position. If I did, heaven forgive me ! never was lan- guage more wofully misapplied, never was flattery more completely thrown away. I might as well have at- tempted to melt an iceberg with a farthing candle. She declared that I should not have a rag of my clothes until her bill was paid. She said she had seen such chaps as me before, and she knew how to deal with them. She could’nt afford such accommodations as hers, indeed she could’nt, without being promptly paid for them. Thus she went on, until I began to get out of all pa- tience, and told her she might go to Old Nick with her 5 * 46 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. accommodations, for what I cared ; I would not trouble myself with further solicitations, hut take some other mode of recovering my property. “ A fiddlestick’s end for your tother mood!” exclaim- claimed the old lady, “ I know what the law is, and I’ll maintain it too. You don’t catch me asleep with both my eyes open, I warrant you.” When I spoke to Mrs. Conniption of taking some other mode of recovering my property, I had no refer- ence to the law; and merely intended if possible to raise the money of my new employers, Messrs. Smirk, Quirk, & Co. I accordingly applied to them, but in vain. They declared they would pay no man his wages, before he had earned them. “ You are right, gentlemen,” said I, “it is fair to pay when the work is done. But it was not exactly in the shape of wages that I asked for this money. My case is rather a peculiar one, and owing to misfortune entire- ly. It is not above forty-five dollars that I owe ; and I thought, as I was now in your employ, you would be- friend me so far as — ” “We can’t — we can’t do it,” said Mr. Smirk, speak- ing short and bustling about. “ There’s no use in talk- ing to us — we never do any thing without a quid per quod, as the lawyers say — we never do any thing for mere friendship — that’s all stuff— that won’t do for men THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 47 of business — friendship starved a cat. When you earn your wages, we’ll pay them.” Hfiving met with this rebuff from my ungentlemanly employers, I next had recourse to my friend David Jones, who informed me — much to my relief — that Mrs. Conniption had no right to retain my property; and that, if I chose to push the matter, the law would make her suffer severely. I assured him I had no desire to meddle with the law, if I could help it. That it was a troublesome and tedious business at best, besides being attended with a glorious uncertainty in the end. “ There is no uncertainty about it in this case,” he replied — “ however, I’ll save you the trouble of going to law — I’ll get your clothes for you in less than half an hour, without any expense. I know how to deal with such folks as old Mrs. Conniption. Leave her to me ; I’ll manage her.” So saying, my friend Davy posted forthwith to see the good woman ; and, indeed, in less than half an hour I was in possession of my trunk, and all and sundry of my property which had been detained. On inquiring how he had so suddenly procured its release, he replied, he had threatened the old woman with the law. “ Well, how did she take it ?” “ At first she would’nt take it all. She said she knew as much about the law as any body — she had a right to 48 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. retain the boarders’ clothes, if they went away without paying her- — that she had done it time and again, without warrant, or execution, or sisserarrah, or any such tiling. “ All that may he, good woman, said I ; but this will be the last opportunity you’ll have of doing it, unless you give up Mr. Hazard’s clothes in the space of three minutes.” “ How did she take that ?” “ Oh, she took it as gently as a lamb — she was afraid to do otherwise — she knew me, and I knew her, and she knew that I knew her — and so the affair was settled directly.” ' £. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 49 CHAPTER VII Containing an account of a remarkable personage . The firm of Smirk, Quirk & Co. affected a great parade and hustle in the way of business. They em- ployed a large number of clerks, whom they hoarded at the different hotels, for the convenience of drumming ; besides each member of the firm boarding in like man- ner, and for a similar purpose. They had an immense pile of large boxes, such as are used for packing dry goods, constantly before their door, blocking up the side- walk so that it was nearly impossible to pass. They advertised largely in several of the daily papers, and made any persons believe, what they boasted themselves, that they sold more dry goods than any house in the city. But those, who were, behind the curtain, knew belter. They knew there was a great deal of vain boast and empty show. They knew that Peter Funk was much 50 THE PERILS OF TEARL STREET. employed about the premises, and putting the best possi - ble face upon every thing. By the hy, speaking of Peter Funk, I must give a short history of that distinguished personage. When, or where, he was born, I cannot pretend to say. Nei- ther do I know who were his parents, or what was his bringing up. He might have been the child of thirty- six fathers for aught I know; and instead of being brought up, have, as the vulgar saying is, come up himself. One thing is certain, he has been known among mer- chants time out of mind ; and though he is despised and hated by some, he is much employed and cherished by others. He is a little, bustling, active, smiling, bowing, scraping, quizzical fellow, in a powdered wig, London- brown coat, drab kefseymere breeches, and black silk stockings. 1 his is the standing portrait of Peter Funk— if a being, who changes his figure every day, every hour, and perhaps every minute, may be said to have any sort of fixed or regular form. The truth is, Peter Funk is a very Proteus; and those, who behold him in one shape to-day, may, if they will watch his transformations, behold him in a hundred different forms on the morrow. Indeed there is no calculating, from his present appear- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 51 ance, in what shape he will he likely to figure next. He changes at will, to suit the wishes of his employers. His mind is as flexible as his person. He has no scruples of conscience. He is ready to be employed in all manner of deceit and deviltry ; and he cares not who his employers are, if they only give him plenty of busi- ness. In short, he-is the most active, industrious, accom- modating, dishonest, unprincipled convenient little varlet that ever lived. Besides all the various qualities I have mentioned, Peter Funk seems to be endowed with ubiquity — or at least with the faculty of being present in more places than one at the same time. If it were not so, how could # • he serve so many masters at once ? How could he be seen, in one part of Pearl street buying goods at auc- tion; in another part, standing at the door with a quill behind each ear ; and in a third, figuring in the shape of a box of goods, or cooped up on the shelf, making a show of merchandize where all was emptiness behind ? With this account of Peter Funk, my readers have perhaps, by this time, gathered some idea of his charac- ter. If not, I must inform them that he is the very imp of deception ; that his sole occupation is to deceive ; and that he is only employed for that purpose. Indeed, such being his known character in the mercantile community, his name is sometimes used figuratively to signify any 52 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. thing which is employed for the purpose of deception — or as the sharp ones say, to gull the flats. Such being the various and accommodating character of Peter F unk, it is not at all surprising that his services should be in great demand. Accordingly he is very much employed in Pearl street — sometimes under one name, and sometimes under another — for I should have mentioned, as a part of his character, that he is exceed- ingly apt to change names, and has as many aliases as the most expert rogue in Bridewell or the Court of Ses- sions. Sometimes he takes the name of John Smith, sometimes James Smith, and sometimes simply Mr. Smith. At other times he is called Roger Brown, Si- mon White, Bob Johnson, or Tommy Thompson. In short, he has an endless variety of names, under which he passes before the world for so many different persons. The initiated only know, and every body else is gulled. Peter Funk is a great hand at auctions. He is con- stantly present, bidding up the goods as though he was determined to buy every thing before him. He is well known for bidding higher than any body else ; or, at all events, for running up an article to the very highest notch, though he finally lets the opposing bidder take it, merely, as he says, to accommodate him — or, not par- ticularly wanting the article himself, he professes to have bid upon it solely because he thought it a great pity so THE PERILS OP PEARL STREET. 53 fine a piece of goods should go so very far beneath its value. It is no uncommon thing to see the little fellow attend- ing an auction, in his powdered wig, his brown coat, his drab kerseys, as fat as a pig, as sleek as a mole, and smiling with the most happy countenance, as if he were about to make his fortune. It is no uncommon thing, to see him standing near the auctioneer, and exclaiming, as he keeps bobbing his head in token of bidding- — u A superb piece of goods ! a fine piece of goods ! great pity it should go so cheap — I don’t want it, but I’ll givs another twenty-five cents, rather than it should go for nothing.” The opposite bidder is probably some novice from the country — some honest Johnny Raw, who is shrewd enough in what he understands, but has never in his life heard of Peter Funk. Seeing so very knowing and respectable a looking man, bidding upon the piece of goods and praising it up at every nod, he naturally thinks it must be a great bargain, and he is determined to have it, let it cost what it will. The result is, that he gives fifty per cent more for the article than it is worth ; and the auctioneer and Peter Funk are ready to burst with laughter at the prodigious gull they have made of the poor countryman. By thus running up goods, Peter i3 of great service to the auctioneers, though he never pays them a cent of 6 64 THE PERILS OP TEARL STREET. money. Indeed it is not his intention to purchase, nor is it that of the auctioneer that he should. Goods nevertheless are frequently struck off to him ; and then the salesman cries out the name of Mr. Smith, Mr. John- son, or some other among the hundred aliases of Peter Funk, as the purchaser. But the goods, on such occa- sions, are always taken back by the auctioneer, agreea- bly to a secret understanding between him and Peter. In a word, Peter F unk is the great under-bidder at all the auctions, and might with no little propriety be styled the under-bidder general. But this sort of characters are both unlawful and unpopular — not to say odious — and hence it becomes necessary for Peter Funk, alias the under-bidder, to have so many aliases to his name, in order that he may not be detected in the underhanded practice of under-bidding. To avoid detection, however, he sometimes resorts to other tricks, among which one is, to act the part of a ven- triloquist, and appear to be several different persons, bid- ding in different places. He has the knack of changing his voice at will, and counterfeiting that of sundry well- known persons ; so that goods are sometimes knocked off to gentlemen who have never opened their mouths. But a very common trick of Peter’s, is, to conceal himself in the cellar, from whence, through a convenient hole near the auctioneer, his voice is heard bidding for THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 55 goods ; and nobody, but those in the secret, know from whence the sound proceeds. This is acting the part of Peter Funk in the cellar. But Peter, for the most part, is fond of being seen in some shape or other ; and it matters little what, so that he can aid his employers in carrying on a system of de- ception. He will figure in the shape of a box, bale, or package of goods ; he will appear in twenty different places, at the same time, on the shelf of a jobber — some- times representing a specimen of English, French, or other goods — but being a mere shadow, and nothing else —a phantasma — a show without the substance. In this manner it was, that he often figured in the service of Smirk, Quirk & Co. ; and while people were astonished at the prodigious quantity of goods they had in their store, two thirds at least of the show was owing to Peter F unk. , - THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET,, 57 CHAPTER Till. Being a brief essay on the art of drumming . Though much of the apparent business of my employ- ers was mere empty show, nevertheless it must be owned that they got off a considerable quantity of goods, which they did chiefly by dint of drumming : for, as I said be- fore, they boarded their numerous clerks, as well as themselves, at the different hotels in the city, for this very purpose. As I have mentioned the practice of drumming, it will doubtless be necessary, for the better understanding of iny readers — especially those in the country — to define what is meant by the use of the term. I well recollect, and indeed have already spoken of, my own ignorance on the subject, when I first came to the city ; and I take it to be no disparagement to my country readers in gen- eral, to suppose they are as little acquainted with the matter as I myself was at that time. Drumming, in mercantile phrase, means the soliciting of customers. It is chiefly used in reference to country 6 * 58 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. merchants, or those supposed to be such. Instead of patiently waiting for these persons to come and purchase, the merchant, or his clerk, goes to them and solicits their custom. In this manner the sale of goods is often expe- dited ; and though the practice of drumming is held by some to be neither very modest nor very dignified, still it must be owned to add pretty largely, in certain cases, to the account of goods sold. Indeed, without drum- ming, it is greatly suspected that sundry houses, which make a remarkable show and noise, would do very little business ; and this for various reasons, the principal of which are, first, that they have seldom any great variety of goods ; secondly, that those which they haye are rarely of the first quality ; thirdly, that the price, however much the drummers may boast of their cheapness, is, for the most part, actually beyond the value ; and fourthly, that merchants, who resort to these means for selling their goods, are apt to be considered as very slippery fellows. Such are some of the reasons which render the prac- tice of drumming necessary, in certain houses, in order to secure a tolerable share of business. But if the char- acter of these houses is not of the first degree of respecta- bility ; neither is the custom, which they obtain by drum- ming, in general of the best kind. It consists chiefly of the younger class of country merchants, who have not had time to acquire property, who have no money to pay THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 59 for goods, and who, in due time, all things considered, may be expected to fail ; or otherwise it consists of that class of country dealers, who have been in business long enough to fail several times, or whose credit, for some other reason, is not very highly esteemed in Pearl street. Those, who are well established in business, or those who have the money in their pockets, are not likely, for very obvious reasons, to become the prey of drummers. They can go to the most respectable houses and pur- chase — the first, because they are old customers, and their credit is undoubted ; the second, because they have the wherewithal to purchase the best of goods, and at the lowest rates. All things considered, it is not perhaps surprising that the drumming merchant should fail ; and that his coun- try customers should fail likewise. The truth is ; they mutually affect each other. The country merchant, having purchased inferior goods at a high price, cannot sell them above the first cost ; or, if he does put a profit on them, it is to such persons as seldom pay for their goods. The natural consequence is, that the country dealer fails. The city dealer, depending on the country one, fails also. And there is an end of the drumming merchant. But the goods, which the country dealer cannot pa^ for, are not his only loss. His expenses of drumming m THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. have amounted to no small sum. Besides employing extra clerks and paying the extra price for their board at the hotels, he has been very liberal of his money in pay- ing for wine, oyster-suppers, theatre-tickets, and such other means of conciliating the favor of the country mer- chant, as are usually resorted to by drummers. He has laid out this money in expectation of getting it back sun- dry fold, by the profits he expects to derive from his coun- try dupe. Poor fool ! in duping the rustic trader, he has duped himself. He has thrown away his drumming- money for nothing, and his goods into the bargain. It does not necessarily follow, however, that those who are drummed into the purchase of goods, will in all cases fail to pay for them. There are certainly many instances to the contrary. Nor does it necessarily fol- low, that the merchant, who drums for customers, will break in consequence thereof. On the contrary, there may, for aught I know, be instances of such persons surmounting all the difficulties of their situation, and be- coming wealthy in the end. But what I would chiefly observe, is, that the general tendency of the drumming system is, to an unfortunate result* both to the drummer and the drummee. Contemptible, however, as the practice is, and unfor- tunate as the system may in general prove, it requires, some little ingenuity and tact to become a good drum- THE PERILS OP PEARL STREET. 61 mer. Besides possessing a neck that will bow, a back that will bend, and a tongue that will flatter, the drum- mer must exercise a tolerable share of discrimination. He must be able to select his men. He must know how to distinguish a countryman from an inhabitant of the city, and a country merchant from a farmer, a me- chanic, or professional gentleman. A nd when he has done so, he must be able to give a pretty shrewd guess at least, whether he can make any thing out of his man when selected. Whether he is of the right material to be moulded into the proper shape ; or whether, like the adamant, he is too hard to receive any impression. It is not my intention to enumerate all the circumstan- ces which may render a man a fit subject for a drumming* operation. His countenance, his manners, and his lan- guage may no doubt afford some criterion to those who are conversant in such matters. Perhaps by these the countryman may be distinguished from the citizen ; but the most obvious distinction is apt to arise from the cir- cumstance of dress. The fashion of the country is usu- ally a long way behind that of the city. The people fret, scold, and rail at the new mode of dress ; but are sure to adopt it in the end, and generally after it has fairly left the city. Hence they may generally be told by the cut of their clothes, which, in the eyes of the city blades, has become altogether antiquated. 62 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET For instance, now that I am writing, in the year 1833, man/ a country merchant may be seen in Pearl street, and elsewhere in the city, whose pantaloons were all the mode ten years ago — being the good and comfortable fashion of large seats, plaited fronts, and legs tapering towards the bottom, agreeably to the shape of most men’s supporters. And then again they look remarkably well-saved, as if they were merely worn to church on Sunday ; and being taken off as soon as the wearer had got home, were carefully brushed and laid in the chest, only to be worn again on the next Lord’s day. A gentleman, with such inexpressibles, would bo in- stantly known for a countryman. But such gentlemen are not always food for drummers. The man, who makes a suit of clothes last six or eight years, is generally one who pays promptly for what he purchases, whether it be houses, lands, or merchandize. Nevertheless the thorough-going drummer no sooner casts his eye upon a pair of those pantaloons, with the roomy seat, the plaited front, and the tapering legs, than he forthwith pounces upon the wearer, as if he were determined to make sure game of the careful, saving countryman. It is amusing, on some such occasion, to see the dis- comfitted drummer drawing off like a wounded hawk, who having made a swoop upon a stout barn-yard fowl, has been defeated and driven off with shame. Thorough- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 63 bred drummers, however, are happily wanting in this last commodity ; and though they meet with many a hard rebuff, they turn directly to some new game, which they attack with unabated vigor. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 65 \ CHAPTER IX. Containing sundry specimens of the art of drumming. Messrs. Smirk, Quirk & Co. were allowed to be the greatest drummers in all Pearl street. They were hand and glove with various hotel keepers, from whom they obtained information of the name, residence, occupation, and so forth, of their various guests — a species of infor- mation which was of essential service to them in their drumming operations ; while they, in their turn, aided the hotel keepers by bringing custom to their houses. Though, as I have already hinted, the firm of Smirk, Quirk & Co. were assisted in their drumming opera- tions by sundry clerks, it must be owned that none of them could equal Mr. Smirk himself in real acute, un- daunted, persevering, and indefatigable drumming. With all this talent, however, he could not always succeed to his wishes. Indeed it is not in the power of the greatest talent, at all times to command success. Many very amusing, and some rather ludicrous scenes might be painted, of the drumming operations of 7 66 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. certain merchants in Pearl street. Of those wherein Master Smirk was concerned I will endeavour to give one or two, as I have heard them described by a friend of mine, who happened to he present on the occasion. The scene is a hotel, where there are present several city merchants and clerks; also sundry gentlemen, sus- pected to be country merchants. Smirk. [Bowing genteelly to a stout looking stran- ger.] Ahem ! I understand — ahem ! your name is — Is*. Stranger. Vanderspogle. Smirk. Ah, yes — Vanderspogle. From the country I presume ? 1st. Stranger. Eheh! Smirk. Come to purchase goods no doubt ? 1 st. Stranger. [Turning away.] Umph! Smirk. [Following up.] You’ll \yant an assortment of dry goods, I presume. Is2. Stranger. You’re a presuming blockhead. Smirk. [Bowing?] I beg your pardon, sir ; my bu- siness is to sell goods. I belong to the firm of Smirk, Gtuirk & Co. We keep the best articles, in our line, in all the city of New- York. 1 st. Stranger. Well, you are at liberty to keep them, so far as 3/m concerned. Smirk. Shall be happy to accommodate you on the lowest terms. 1 si. Stranger. You’re too low for me. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 67 Smirk. Too low! — Ah, sir, you’re joking now. Surely every body likes to buy goods as cheap as they can, I hope you’ll call — 1st. Stranger. If I were to call you any thing, it would be — Smirk. Smirk, sir ; my name is Smirk, of the firm of Smirk, Quirk & Co., No. Pearl street. Is/. Stranger. Whom do you take me for? Smirk. Begging your pardon, sir^I took you for a country merchant. Is/. Stranger. Well, sir, If I am, I know where to look for goods myself, and want none of your contempti- ble tricks to draw me into a bargain. Thus saying the bluff stranger turned his back short upon Master Smirk, and left the room. The drummer, being thus put to a non plus, stood for a moment or two like one astounded : when recovering himself with ad- mirable tact, he began to look about for some other per- son on whom to exercise his skill. He pretty soon espied a countrified looking fellow ; and approaching him, with the usual quota of bows and smiles, he began the following dialogue. Smirk. Fine morning this, sir. 2d. Stranger. Why, yes sir, considerably so. Smirk. [Aside.] He’s my man — I’ll fasten him. — Ahem ! sir — from the country I presume ? Come to purchase goods no doubt? 68 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 2d. Stranger. Why, yes sir, that’s my principal ob- ject in coming to the city. Smirk. My name is Smirk, of the house of Smirk, Quirk & Co., a very celebrated establishment in the dry- goods line — I think I may say the most so of any house in Pearl street. 2d. Stranger. 1 dare say it is, though I never heard of it before. Smirk. Is it possible! Well, never mind, I shall be happy to make you acquainted with it now. 2d. Stranger. Thank you, sir — you’re very kind. Smirk. Oh, sir, we like to pay attention to stran- gers. Our store is at No. Pearl street. Here is our card. I hav’nt the pleasure of knowing your name, but — 2d. Stranger. My name is Lookabout, for want of a better. Smirk. A better ! Oh, sir, it’s impossible to have a better : and while you’re looking about, I hope you’ll give us a call. You’ll want dry goods, of course; and I’ll be bound to say you can’t do better than to deal with us. 2d. Stranger. Why I don’t know how that is. For my part, I’m just setting up in the world as it were, and shan’t purchase my goods until I’ve looked about to see where I can get them cheapest. Smirk. That’s right — perfectly right — I see you’re THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 69 a sharp one, and I like you the better for it. Y ou’re just the man I like to deal with, because I’m certain I can give you a bargain you’ll be pleased with. Rely upon it, sir, you can’t do better than to trade with us. 2d. Stranger. Why there it is now — every mer- chant I suppose will say just the same — and who am I to believe ? Smirk. Us, by all me-ans, Mr. Lookabout. You’ll never find the house of Smirk, Quirk & Co. otherwise than just the thing. 2d. Stranger. What thing ? Smirk. A — a — a— the — why, sir — I mean, sir, a— - a — just what we are. 2d. Stranger. Why, if that’s the case, then to be sure — Smirk. That’s exactly the case, I assure you. A — a — by the by, do you ever go to the Theatre ? 2d. Stranger. I never have been yet — but I thought I should before I left' the city. Smirk. By all means. I shall be happy to treat you to a ticket this evening. 2d. Stranger. I’m obliged to you* sir — very much obliged to you. I thought I should go to the Museum too. Smirk. I shall be most happy to furnish you with a ticket there likewise. 2d. Stranger. I’m very much obliged to you — 7 * 70 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. you’re very kind. I thought I should go to see the caravan of living beasts, and all the wonderful sights, before I left the city. Smirk. By all means, Mr. Lookabout. It shan’t cost you a farthing. I do hope you’ll do us the pleasure to call — our No. you’ll recollect — 2d. Stranger. Why, yes sir, I believe its here on this card. Smirk. So it is — I’d forgot. Don’t fail to call, sir. You’ll excuse me now — I’m so much engaged — busi- ness presses so hard — good morning, Mr. Lookabout. [Exit. 2d. Stranger. Good morning, Mr. Smirk. — Ha, ha, ha ! now I dare say he think’s he’s got me. But I’m not so easily caught. I’ll go to the Theatre, to he sure, and the Museum, and any other place he’ll invite me to, so long as it costs me nothing. But as to buying goods, I’ll get them where I please. In this case poor Smirk was fairly deceived in his man. I well recollect his coming to the store in high glee — boast jng of the Johnny Raw he had caught, and the money he calculated to make out of him. But his glee was turned into chagrin, when, after treating him to the Theatre, Museum, and various other amusements ; his Johnny Raw, as he called him, purchased his goods at another house. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 71 It is a part of the system of mercantile drumming, to “ become all things to all men, in order to gain some.” But the sum of what is aimed at, is a sum of money. Drummers are apt to he exceedingly flexible in matters of religion — ay, and of morals too — being orthodox with the orthodox, and heterodox with the heterodox ; attend- ing the church pvith those who incline churchward, and going to the theatre with those who prefer the theatre ; taking cold water with those who are opposed to bran- dy, and drinking brandy with those who eschew cold water. Jacob Van Rant, a character well known in Pearl street, was one of these accommodating drummers. I will give a scene in proof. Meeting, one morning, with our honest friend Lookabout, he commenced, as follows : Van Rant. Good morning, Mr. Lookabout. Look. Good morning, sir. But you have the ad- vantage of me. Van Rant. [Aside.] I intend to have before we part. — * The advantage of you ! how so ? Look. Why you seem to know me, and I don’t seem to know you. Van Rant. Every thing is not as it seems, you know, friend Lookabout. There is a great deal of seeming piety, for instance, which is nothing but mere rottenness and hypocrisy at bottom ; and a great deal 72 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. seeming honesty and fair-dealing, which is merely a cloak for roguery. Don’t you find it so, friend Look- about. Look. Why, perhaps I shall, now I’ve come to New- York ; though the people in the back settlements, where I come from, are in the main pretty honest ’spon- sible sort of men. % Van Rant. No doubt of it in the world. It’s the people of this, ungodly city I meant to warn you against. [Groaning.] There are a great many rogues, I grieve to say it, in Pearl streetr— a great many persons, who, while they sell goods and merchandize by wholesale, also cheat and deceive by wholesale. Look. I’m much obliged to you for the information. But how shall a body know when they meet with these ungodly rogues ? Van Rant. AVhy,look at me now. My name is Jacob Van Rant. I profess to be an honest man. Look. Well, don’t the others do the same? Van Rant. Ah! there’s wherein they deceive, sir. Profession — mere profession. They are at heart the very children of the Evil One. I thought it proper to say this much to you in a friendly way, so that you need’nt be taken in— -knowing you to be, in a great measure, a stranger here. Now at my store I profess to deal in the fear of God. For instance, I give one THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 73 half of all my profits in trade to certain devout and charitable purposes — such as the endowment of — Look. All ! then you’re the great Mr. Van Rant, that I’ve heard so much about, are you ? Van Rant. Not great — oh no, by no means. Hea- ven forbid that I should be called great. I’ve done some good in my time, to be sure ; and I deal very largely in French goods. But my time is precious — I hope you’ll call at my store. I feel a friendly yearning to- wards you; and shall be happy to keep you out of the clutches of those who are ready to clutch you — and many such there are in Pearl street. I scorn to speak ill of my neighbors — “ my kinsmen after the flesh” — but my duty cempels me. I have a most extensive assort- ment of French goods, and shall be happy to.suppl}r you with any thing in my line. Look. I dare say you would, Mr. Van Ranter. And you’re not the first person that’s given me the same invitation. Every merchant in New- York seems to be looking after my custom. Strange what stories people will tell ! I used to hear, before ever I came to the city, that the people were as proud as the nation ; and that they would’ nt speak to a man from the country, unless ’twas the Patroon, or the Governor, or some such big bug. But I find ’tis no such thing. For my part, I never experienced so much attention in all my life, as I have since I come to New- York. Every body bids 74 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. me, Good morning, Mr. Lookabout. How do you do, Mr. Lookabout ? I hope you’re well, Mr. Lookabout. I shall be happy to see you at my store, Mr. Lookabout. And they all want to trade with me. Every one sells cheaper than the rest ; and every man has better goods than his neighbor. I verily believe, if I stay a while longer, I can get goods for nothing — and on two years’ credit. I must say, as far as I’m acquainted with ’em, the people of New- York — I mean the wholesale mer- chants — are the politest and most accommodating gen- tlemen I ever saw in my life. As fine as they look, and genteel as they are drest, they are quite condescending. They don’t seem to be in the least ashamed to be seen talking to a country -looking man, or walking in the streets with him either. They slip their arm into mine, as familiar as though we’d been acquainted all our life- time ; and they walk up and down the streets with me ; and they take me to church on Sunday ; and — Van Rant. What church do you attend, Mr. Look- about ? Look. Why, that’s just as it happens, Mr. Ranter. Sometimes I go to the Middle Dutch, sometimes to Tri- nity, and sometimes — Van Rant. I hope you’ll go to our meeting this even- ing. Dr. Rend-the-air is to preach. I shall be happy to attend you, at half-past seven. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 75 hook. I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Van Rani. Not at all, Mr. Lookabout. I consider it my duty to lead strangers in the right way — especially youngerly men like you, who, however piously inclined, are beset with a thousand snares and temptations in an ungodly city like this; and unless they have some con- -scientious person to take them by the hand, and lead them in the right way, may wander like lost sheep, and finally fall into the hands of the Evil One, or some other whole- sale dealer in precious souls. Look. I’m much obliged to you, as I was saying — - Van Rant. Not in the least, Mr. Lookabout. I take a delight in doing good in general ; besides, I feel parti- cularly interested in your welfare. There is something in your countenance which powerfully reminds me that you are cut out for good — and it would be a thousand pities if you should come to evil, and all for want of some friendly hand to — Look. I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Van Ranter, very much — Van Rant. Don’t name it, my dear friend. I take pleasure in doing good without fee or reward.— Ah, by the by, did I give you my card ?- Look. No sir. Van Rant. Well, never mind. I liav’nt one in my pocket now. But I keep at No- Pearl street. 76 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. Look. That’s just opposite Smirk, Quirk & Co.’s. Van Rant. Opposite in every sense of the word, my friend. It’s against my principles to speak evil of my neighbors; but between you and me, Mr. Lookabout, they’re a most profane and slippery set. They’ll take you in, if possible. For my part, I scorn to solicit any man to purchase my goods, but — hark ! the clock is striking seven now. Will you go with me to hear Dr. Rend-the-air. Look. I cannot possibly this evening, for I’m just going to the theatre. Van Rant. Oh ! you attend the theatre, then, do you ? I did’nt know that before. I really thought you was one of those sober deaconish fellows, that would’nt be caught in a theatre for the world : and I always like to accommo- date myself to the morals and the consciences of my friends. I’m very glad to hear you’re fond of the theatre ; I’m fond of it myself, though I don’t wish it to be gen- erally known ; and, now I think of it, I’ll accompany you there, instead of going to hear Dr. Rend-the-air. Between you and me, I’d rather hear old Barnes. Look. It’s about time we were off. Van Rant. That’s true, faith. Shall I have the honor of your arm ? [Exit, with Lookabout. Perhaps the most laughable scene of drumming is that wherein one city merchant attempts to drum another, as TtlE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 77 sometimes happens through mistake : for so eager are certain of the drumming class, that, whenever they meet with a stranger, they do not wait to ascertain whether he is a country merchant or not ; but, taking it for granted he is such, forthwith endeavor to gobble him up before he is appropriated by any of their fellow drummers. A friend of mine was once attacked in this manner, by a dealer in hardware and cutlery ; and being somewhat fond of a joke, he humored the mistake, as in the fol- lowing scene. Having lately gone to board at a certain hotel, much infested with drummers, he was accosted by one Simon Sharp, notorious in that line. Sharp. Very hot weather to-day, Mr. Brown. Brown. That seems to be the common opinion. Sharp. Ahem ! have you purchased your hardware and cutlery yet ? Brown. I, sir? Sharp. Yes ; you’ll want those things of course in making up your assortment. Brown. [Aside.] The fellow takes me for a coun- try dealer. Good ! I’ll smoke him. — Ahem ! sir, how do you sell iron feather beds by the groce. Sharp. Iron feather beds ! I never heard of such a thing. Brown . No ! What sort of a hardware dealer are you 78 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET that never heard of iron feather beds ? Why, sir, they are all the fashion now in the north of Europe. Shayp. Are they indeed ? Well, if that’s the case, I’ll import some by the earliest opportunity : for I make it a point to keep a perfect assortment in my line of bu- siness. I’m sorry I hav’nt the article now ; but any thing else you can name, I believe, I can accommodate you with this instant. Brown. Have you any steel shirt collars ? Sharp. Steel what ? Brown. Shirt collars. Sharp. You must be joking now, Mr. Brown, I never heard of the article before in my life. Brown. Is it possible ? Sharp. Never did. Brown. You probably then never read Captain Long- tong’s travels in Tartary, where the greatest gentry have no other collars to their shirts but steel? Sharp. Can’t say I have. My time is so taken up with a multiplicity of business, that I hav’nt time to read any thing in the world, except it may be a review of the market, a price current, or some such matter. As to the articles you name, I confess I hav’nt got them ; but any thing else you can mention in my line, I’ll be bound I can furnish you with. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET. 19 Brown,. Let me see — what else do I want ? Sharp. Any scissors, penknives, razors — Brown. Razors! heaven forefend! They’re too sharp for me. No, 1 was trying to think of something which I had seen or heard of somewhere. Let me see — ah, I have it now. Copper hearth rugs— have you any of them ? Sharp. I’m sure you must be quizzing now, Mr. Brown ! Brown. Quizzing! Oh, no, sir — I’m a sober man of business, and don’t deal in that article ; but if you have any of the goods I have named — Sharp. Sorry to say I have not ; but I’ll write to my correspondent in Liverpool, by the very next packet. In the mean time perhaps you’ll think of something which I have. By the by, when do you leave the city ? Brown. I shall not leave it at all. Sharp. [Staring with surprise.] Not leave it ! Brown. No, sir ; I do business in the dry-goods line, at No. Pearl street. Sharp. The devil you do ! I thought I was talking all this time to a country merchant. Brown. That’s a mistake you drummers are very apt to fall into. You’re so eager to monopolize all the bu- siness, that you don’t wait to ascertain whether a man is a country merchant or not, before you commence — 80 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET Sharp. I beg your pardon, sir — I — Brown. Not at all ; so far as regards myself, you are a very amusing fellow ; and if you will only keep an assortment of iron feather beds, steel shirt collars, and — Sharp. Curse your iron feather beds ! I won’t be quizzed any longer. [Exit, somewhat in a passion, and mightily chop-fallen. THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET 81 CHAPTER X In which the reader is initiated in the art of flying the kite, and other modes of raising the wind . Messrs. Smirk, Quirk & Co., who, like many other of their mercantile brethren, had entered into business with a credit larger than their capital, began to be in very embarrassed circumstances : and to meet the daily de- mands for money, were accustomed to resort to sundry of the various shifts, which are well known by the phrase of RoAsing the Wind. Besides the very common one of shinning, and the not very uncommon one of being shaved, they had fre- quent recourse to Flying the Kite. The meaning of this expression is well known in Pearl street ; but, for the sake of the uninitiated, I must define it to be, a com- bination between two persons, neither of whom has any funds in bank, to raise money by an exchange of checks. For instance, the kite-flyer takes his co-worker’s check, say upon the Tradesmen’s Bank, which he deposites in 8 * 82 THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET the Bank of America, and draws the cash : while, on the other hand, his co-worker takes his check on the Bank of America, which he deposites in the Tradesmen’s Bank, and in like manner draws the cash — each taking care to deposite the requisite sum to meet his own check, before the usual Bank exchanges are made on the morn- ing of the next day — in default of which the manoeuvre would be exposed, and his credit very much impaired, if not entirely broken. From this account, the reader will perceive that flying the kite is rather a perilous adventure, and subjects its votaries to no little risk of detection, which a man, who values his credit as a sound and fair dealer, would by no means he fond of hazarding. Nevertheless, it was fre- quently done by the house of Smirk, Quirk & Co., who, by a singular dexterity and good fortune, kept up a very considerable show for some time, when all beneath was perfectly hollow. Another method, resorted to by these gentlemen for sustaining their credit, was, the Hypothecation of Stock. To hypothecate, means, neither more or less than, to pledge. A man may hypothecate goods, notes, bank stock, and whatever else belongs to him ; and he can do so honorably, because they are his own property. But my employers took a different and a bolder course. They went more upon speculation. Indeed they had little re- THE PERILS OF PEARL STREET.