'I hope, after all, matters are not as bad as you suppose,' said Hiram, wishing to make some response, but determining not to commit himself.
'Oh, but they are,' said Mr. Tenant. 'We must not deceive ourselves. However, let that pass. Now tell me what you think about these collections?'
Hiram forced himself to listen patiently to Mr. Tenant's statement, for he had not yet decided on the course he was presently to pursue. So he talked over the question, pro and con, managing to fully agree with the views of Mr. Tenant in every particular.
'I knew you would think as I do about this,' exclaimed the latter, joyfully. 'It does you credit, Hiram. It shows your honorable sense. How could I take that money and put it into the general indebtedness? How could I? Well, well, I have already employed too much of your time. We shall do nothing to-day but examine into matters. You will be up this evening?'
Emma must spare you to me for once. To-night we will have our various statements ready, and I shall want your help to look them over.'
'The old fool,' muttered Hiram, as he left the place. 'The old jackass. I won't give it up yet, though. I will try his wife. I will try Emma. No, I won't give it up yet. I will go there this evening, and see what can be done. But if I find that--'
Perhaps, Messrs. Editors, you may recall A story you published some time in the fall,-- I think 'twas October--your files will declare,-- Bearing the title of 'Tom Johnson's Bear.'
Well, the story since that time has grown somewhat bigger, And has something to say about holding the 'nigger;' And something, likewise, about letting him go, The which I've no purpose at present to show: To wit, how a woodman, a kind-hearted neighbor, Returning at night from his rail-splitting labor, Found poor Mistress Johnson forlorn and distressed, In that perilous posture still holding the beast; And how she besought the kind gentleman's help, And how he'd have nothing to do with the whelp; And how he and Johnson soon got by the ears, And fought on the question of 'freedom for bears;' And how, _inter alia_, the beast got away And took himself off in the midst of the fray; And how Tommy Johnson at last came to grief: All which I omit, as I wish to be brief. The story's too lengthy--it must not be sent all To cumber your pages, my dear CONTINENTAL. At present my purpose, my object, my mission is To show how the woodman became 'Abolitionist.' Introductions, you know, like 'original sin,' Hang on, while you long for some sign of repentance In shape of the last and the welcomest sentence, So, in short, I'll cut short, draw a line, and begin.