He feels he is a man of wonderful parts,
much abused by public opinion, and, though always trying to promote
public good, never credited for his many kind acts.
Turning his head aside to relieve himself of a smile, Mr. Grabguy
admits that he is quite an abused man; and, setting aside small
matters, thinks it well to be guided by the good motto:--'retire
from business with plenty of money.' It may not subdue tongues, but
it will soften whispers. "Money," Mr. Grabguy intimates, "upon the
strength of his venerable father's experience, is a curious medium
of overcoming the ditchwork of society. In fact," he assures Graspum,
"that with plenty of shiners you may be just such a man as you
please; everybody will forget that you ever bought or sold a nigger,
and ten chances to one if you do not find yourself sloped off into
Congress, before you have had time to study the process of getting
there. But, enough of this, Graspum;--let us turn to trade matters.
What's the lowest shot ye'll take for that mellow mixture of Ingin
and aristocracy. Send up and bring him down: let us hear the lowest
dodge you'll let him slide at."
Mr. Grabguy evinces an off-handedness in trade that is quite equal
to Graspum's keen tact. But Graspum has the faculty of preserving a
disinterested appearance singularly at variance with his object.
A messenger is despatched, receipt in hand, for the boy Nicholas.
Mrs. Tuttlewell, a brusque body of some sixty years, and with
thirteen in a family, having had three husbands (all gentlemen of
the highest standing, and connected with first families), keeps a
stylish boarding-house, exclusively for the aristocracy, common
people not being competent to her style of living; and as nobody
could ever say one word against the Tuttlewell family, the present
head of the Tuttlewell house has become very fashionably
distinguished.
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