by E. W. Howe
CHAPTER IV.
DAVY'S BEND.
It was generally agreed among the people of Davy's Bend--a thousand innumber, the census said; six hundred they said themselves, for theychanged the rule, and exaggerated their own situation unfavorably--thatthe town possessed more natural advantages than any other in the world.
They demonstrated this with great cleverness, by means of maps drawn onbrown wrapping-paper inside of the stores, and, after looking at theirmaps, they triumphantly exclaimed, with a whack of their fists on thecounter, "There are the figures; and figures won't lie." But in spite oftheir maps showing valleys occupied with railroads (which Capitalneglected to build), Ben's City, below them, continued to prosper,whereas Davy's Bend continued to go steadily down the hill.
The people did little else than wonder at this, and curse Capitalbecause it did not locate in a town where nature was lavish in thematter of location, instead of going to a place where it would alwaysfind the necessity of contending against odds confronting it. Such atown was Ben's City, in the estimation of those living at Davy's Bend;but they must have been mistaken, for great houses and institutions grewup where little had been planted, and men with money trampled upon eachother in their mad haste to take advantage of the prosperity that seemedto be in the air. Those who drew the maps declared that a crash was soonto come, when the capitalists who did not know their own interests wouldtrample upon each other in their haste to get away; but those who boughtBen's City property, no difference at what price, soon sold out again atan advance; and the prosperity of the place was quite phenomenal.
Never was Capital so thoroughly hated as in Davy's Bend. It was cursed athousand times a day, and shown to be fickle and foolish and ungrateful;for evidences of these weaknesses on the part of Capital abounded onevery hand. There were railroads to be built out of Davy's Bend thatwould pay immensely, as had been demonstrated times without number bythe local paper; but Capital stubbornly refused to build them,preferring to earn a beggarly per cent elsewhere. There weremanufactories to be built in Davy's Bend that would make their ownersrich, as every child knew; but Capital, after a full investigation, wasso dull that it could not see the opportunity. The town was alive withopportunities for profitable investments, but Capital, with a mean anddogged indifference, refused to come to Davy's Bend; therefore Capitalwas hated, and bullied, and cursed, and denounced; and it was generallyagreed that it deserved no better fate than to go to ruin in the generalcrash that would finally overtake Ben's City.
The people of Davy's Bend were a good deal like a grumbling and idleman, who spends the time which should be devoted to improving hiscondition to grumbling about his own ill luck and the good luck of hisindustrious rival, who is steadily prospering; and as men frequentlybelieve that the fates are against them when they are themselves theironly opposition, so it was generally believed in this wretched littletown that some sort of a powerful and alert goddess was in league withBen's City. While they readily admitted their own points of advantage,even to the extent of giving themselves more credit than they deserved,they refused to be equally fair with their competitor, as men do, andcontended, with an ignorant persistency, that Ben's City was prosperousbecause of "luck," whereas they should have known that there is no suchthing, either good or bad.
But, in course of time, when they found that they would always be in therear, no difference whether they liked it or not, the people of theBend, in order to more thoroughly denounce their own town for its lackof ability to attract Capital, began to exaggerate the importance ofBen's City. A four-story building there became seven stories high, andthose who visited the place vied with each other in giving vivid anduntruthful accounts of its growth and prosperity on their return; all ofwhich their acquaintances repeated over and over, though they knew it tobe untrue, even adding to the exaggerated statements, in order to bullytheir own meek town.
Probably they were not proud of the greatness of their rival; for theytalked of it as a cowardly man might exaggerate the strength of thefellow who had whipped him, using it as an excuse for defeat. Indeed,they were proud of nothing, except their own accounts of the greatnessof Davy's Bend a long while before, when the huge warehouses wereoccupied, and before Capital had combined against it; of this theytalked in a boastful way, magnifying everything so much that many of thelisteners who had not heard the beginning of the conversation imaginedthat they were talking of Ben's City; but of bettering their presentcondition they had no thought,--by common consent it was so very badthat attempts to become prosperous again were useless, so the Bend was alittle worse off every year, like an old and unsuccessful man.
Most of the business men of Davy's Bend had been clerks in the days ofthe town's prosperity, making their own terms when their energeticemployers wanted to get away, and in spite of the general dullness andlack of success, they entertained very good opinions of themselves; forno difference what a citizen's misfortunes were, he loaded them all onthe town, and thus apologized for his own lack of ability. But for thecircumstance that he was tied to Davy's Bend, he would have been greatand distinguished; they all said the same thing, and in order to get hisown story believed, every man found it necessary to accept theexplanations of the others, or pretend to; so it happened that thepeople did not hold themselves responsible for anything,--the town inwhich they lived was to blame for everything that was disagreeable, andwas denounced accordingly.
The esteem with which the people regarded themselves was largely due tothe manner in which they were referred to in the local paper, a ribaldfolio appearing once a week. None of the business men were advertisers,but they all gave the publisher free pardon if he referred to them incomplimentary terms in his reading columns, and sent in his bill. Thus,the merchant who did not own the few goods he displayed was oftenreferred to as a merchant prince, with an exceedingly shrewd businesshead on his shoulders. Sometimes notices of this character were leftstanding from week to week by the shiftless editor; a great number ofthem would occasionally get together on the same page, referring todifferent men as the shrewdest, the wisest, the most energetic, etc.;and it was very ridiculous, except to the persons concerned, whobelieved that the people read the notices with great pleasure.
So great was the passion for puffery among them that designing men whoheard of it came along quite frequently, and wrote the people up inspecial publications devoted to that kind of literature. There would bea pretence that the special edition was to be devoted to the town, butit really consisted of a few lines at the beginning, stating that Davy'sBend had more natural advantages than any other town in the world, andfour pages of puffs of the people, at so much per line; whereupon themen made fun of all the notices except their own, believing that itsstatements were true, and generally accepted as a part of the town'shistory. A few of those who were able had engravings inserted, and thepuff writers, in order to make the notices and bills as large aspossible, told how long and how often the subjects had been married; howmany children they had, together with their names, where they came from,and much other mild information of this character.
It was known that many of the complimentary sketches were written by thepersons to whom they referred; but while Harrisonfield, the grocer, gavewide circulation to the fact that Porterfield, of the dry-goods store,had referred to himself as an intellectual giant, and a business man ofsuch sterling ability that he had received flattering offers to removeto Ben's City, he did not know that Porterfield was proving the sameindiscretion with reference to himself.
Every new man who wrote up the town in this manner was more profuse withcompliments of the people than his predecessor had been; and finally thecommon language was inadequate to describe their greatness, and theylonged for somebody to come along who could "write," and who could fullyexplain how much each one was doing for the town; but although they allprofessed to be doing a great deal constantly for Davy's Bend, there wasno reason to believe that any of them were accomplishing anything inthis direction, for it could not have been duller than i
t was in theyear of our Lord just referred to.
But there was an exception to this rule, as there is said to be to allothers,--Thompson Benton, the merchant; the dealer in everything, as theadvertisements on his wrapping-paper stated, for he advertised nowhereelse. But he was reliable and sensible, as well as stout and surly; soit was generally conceded that he was the foremost citizen of the Bend.
Not that he made a pretence to this distinction; old Thompson was modestas well as capable, and whatever good was said of him came from thepeople themselves. Had there been new people coming to Davy's Bendoccasionally, it is possible that old Thompson would not have been theleading citizen, for it was said that he "improved on acquaintance," andthat people hated the ground he walked on until they had known him adozen years or more, and found out his sterling virtues; but they hadall known him a great many years, and therefore admired him in spite ofthemselves.
Thompson Benton had been a resident of the town in the days of itsprosperity, and ranked with the best of those who had moved away; but hepreferred to remain, since he had become attached to his home, andfeared that he could not find one which would suit him equally wellelsewhere. Besides, he owned precious property in the Davy's Bendcemetery, and lavished upon it the greatest care. Hard though he was inhis transactions with men, the memory of his wife was sacred to him; andmany believed that, had she lived, he would have been less plain-spokenand matter-of-fact. This devotion was well known; and when the peoplefound it necessary to forgive him for a new eccentricity,--for it wasnecessary to either forgive him or fight him,--they said he had neverrecovered his spirits since the day a coffin was driven up to his house.
His store was always open at seven in the morning, and the proprietoralways opened it himself, with a great iron key that looked as venerableand substantial as the hale old gentleman whose companion it had been somany years; for it was not a key of the new sort, that might lock up atrifling man's affairs, but a key that seemed to say as plainly as couldbe that it had money and notes and valuable goods of many kinds in itscharge. At six in the evening his store was closed, and the proprietorturned the key, and put it into his pocket. At noon he ate his frugaldinner while seated on a high stool at his desk, and he had been heardto say that he had not eaten at home at midday in fifteen years; for onSundays he dined in state at five o'clock.
There were no busy days in Davy's Bend, therefore he got along without aclerk, and managed his affairs so well that, in spite of the dulness ofwhich there was such general complaint, he knew that he was a littlericher at the close of every day, and that he was probably doing betterthan many of his old associates who were carrying on business with agreat deal of noise and display in Ben's City. Certainly he was reputedto be rich, and those who were less industrious said that he should haveretired years before, and given others a chance.
Thompson Benton was known as a plain-spoken man, and if he thought oneof his customers had acted dishonestly with him, he said so at the firstopportunity, and gruffly hoped it wouldn't happen again; by which he wasunderstood to mean that if it _did_ happen again, there would be adifficulty in which the right would triumph. Indeed, he had been knownto throw men out of the front door in a very rough manner, two and threeat a time; but the people always said he was right, and so it usuallyturned out, for he was never offended without cause. If an impostor cameto the town, the people were fully revenged if he called at Benton'sstore, for the proprietor told him what he thought of him, and inlanguage so plain that it was always understood.
Thompson Benton's principal peculiarity was his refusal to be a fool.The men who threatened to leave the town because they were notappreciated received no petting from him; indeed, he told them to go,and try and find a place where they would not grumble so much. Thesuccessors of the business men who had moved away were always trying toinvent new methods as an evidence of their ability, and some of them didnot pay their debts because that was an old, though respectable, custom;they rejected everything old, no matter how acceptable it had proveditself, and got along in an indifferent manner with methods invented bythemselves, though the methods of their inventing were usually lame andunsatisfactory. For such foolishness as this old Thompson had nocharity, as he believed in using the experience of others to his ownprofit; so he raised his voice against the customs of the town, andthough he was usually abused for it, it was finally acknowledged that hewas right.
But notwithstanding his austere manner, the people had confidence in oldThompson, and many of the town disputes were left to him. If the peoplehad spare money, they asked the privilege of leaving it in his iron safe(which had belonged to the last bank that moved away), and took hisreceipt for it. When they wanted it again, it was always ready; and ifthe Ben's City cracksmen ever came that way to look at the safe, theyconcluded that the proprietor would prove an ugly customer, for it wasnever disturbed.
His family consisted of a maiden sister almost as old and odd ashimself, and his daughter Annie, who had been motherless since she wasfive years old. The people said that old Thompson never smiled duringthe day except when his pretty daughter came in, and that his onlyrecreation was in her society during two hours in the evening, when sheread to him, or played, or sang. They were all certain that he was"wrapped up" in her, and it was also agreed that this devotion was notwithout cause; for a better girl or a prettier girl than Annie Bentonwas not to be found in all the country round.
The house in which he lived was as stout as brick and mortar could makeit; for the people said that he inspected every brick and stick as itwas used; and when it was completed, his prudish sister, whom hereferred to as the "Ancient Maiden," was equally careful in thefurnishing, so that it was a very good house, and kept with scrupulousneatness. The Ancient Maiden's drafts were always honored, for nothingwas too good for Thompson Benton's home; and those who went there neverforgot the air of elegant comfort which pervaded everything. ThoughThompson Benton went down town in the morning with the men who worked bythe day, and carried a lunch basket, he dined in the evening in state,surrounded by silver and china both rich and rare; though he worked tenhours a day, and ate a lunch at noon, he slept at night in a bed and ina room which would have rested a king; and his house was as good as anyman's need be.
Very early in life Annie Benton learned, somehow, that it had been oneof her father's pleasures, when he came home at night, to listen to hermother's piano-playing, when that excellent lady was alive; and,resolving to supply the vacant place, she studied so industriously withthe poor teachers the town afforded that at fifteen she was complimentedby frequent invitations to play for the glum and plain-spoken merchant.If she selected something frivolous, and played it in bad taste or time,and was not invited to play again for a long while, she understood thather music did not please him, and studied to remedy her fault. In courseof time she found out what he wanted, though he never gave her advice orsuggestion in reference to it; and he had amply repaid her for all thepains she had been to by saying once, after she had played for him halfan hour in a dark room, while he rested on a sofa near her, that she wasgrowing more like her mother every day.
"There were few ladies like your mother, Annie," old Thompson would say,when the girl thanked him for his appreciation. "It pleases me that youremind me of her, and if you become as good a woman as she was, it willbe very remarkable, for you have had no mother, poor child, to directyou in her way."
Annie would try harder than ever, after this, to imitate the virtues ofthe dead woman, and bothered the Ancient Maiden a great deal to find outwhat she was like. She was not a drone, that much was certain; thereforethe daughter was not, and tried to be as useful in the hive as sheimagined her mother had been, in every way in which a worthy womandistinguishes herself.
In like manner the girl learned to read to please her father, and everyday he brought home with him something he had come into possession ofduring the day, and which he wanted read; a book, a pamphlet, or amarked paragraph in a newspaper,--he seemed to read nothing himselfexcept busin
ess letters; but none of these, or any mention of hisaffairs, ever came into his home.
Annie Benton's mother had been organist in the big stone church near TheLocks, which the first residents had built in the days of theirprosperity, and the girl learned from family friends that her fatherregularly attended both services on Sunday, to hear the music; perhapsthere were certain effects possible on the great organ which were notpossible on a more frivolous instrument; but it was certain that henever attended after her death until two or three years after hisdaughter became the organist, and after she was complimented on everyhand for her voluntaries before and after the services, and for her goodtaste in rendering the hymns; for old Thompson was not a religious man,though he practised the principles of religion much better than many ofthose who made professions.
But one summer morning the girl saw her father come in, and occupy theseat he had occupied before her mother's death, and regularly after thathe came early and went away late. Except to say to her once, as theywalked home together, that she was growing more like her mother everyday, he made no reference to the subject, though he pretended to wonderwhat the matter was when she threw her arms about his neck after theyreached the house, and burst into tears.
One Sunday afternoon he had said to her that if she was going down tothe church to practise, he would accompany her, and after that, everySunday afternoon he was invited to go with her, although she never hadpractised on Sunday afternoons before. Arriving there, an old negrojanitor pumped the organ, and the girl played until she thought herfather was tired, when they returned home again, where he spent theremainder of the day alone; thinking, no doubt, of his property in thecemetery, and of the sad day when it became necessary to make thepurchase.
