Just at first Anton found some difficulty in adapting himself to the new
world in which he was placed.
The business was one of a kind becoming rare nowadays, when rail-roads
and telegraphs unite remotest districts, and every merchant sends from
the heart of the country to bid his agents purchase goods almost before
they reach the shore. Yet there was a something about this old-fashioned
house of a dignified, almost a princely character; and what was still
better, it was well calculated to inspire confidence. At the time of
which we speak, the sea was far off, facilities of communication were
rare, so that the merchants' speculations were necessarily more
independent, and involved greater hazard. The importance of such a
mercantile house as this depended upon the quantity of stores it bought
with its own money and at its own risk. Of these, a great part lay in
long rows of warehouses along the river, some in the vaults of the old
house itself, and some in the warehouses and stores of those around.
Most of the tradesmen of the province provided themselves with colonial
produce from the warehouses of the firm, whose agents were spread to
east and south, and carried on, even as far as the Turkish frontier, a
business which, if less regular and secure than the home trade, was
often more lucrative than any other.
Thus it happened that the every-day routine afforded to the new
apprentice a wide diversity of impressions and experiences. A varied
procession poured through the counting-house from morning to evening;
men of different costumes, all offering samples of different articles
for sale--Polish Jews, beggars, men of business, carriers, porters,
servants, etc. Anton found it difficult to concentrate his thoughts amid
this endless going and coming, and to get through his work, simple as it
was.
For instance, Mr. Braun, the agent of a friendly house in Hamburgh, had
just come in and taken a sample of coffee out of his pocket. While it
was being submitted to the principal, the agent went on gesticulating
with his gold-headed cane, and talking about a recent storm, and the
damage it had done. The door creaked, and a poorly-dressed woman
entered.
"What do you want?" asked Mr. Specht.
Then came lamentable sounds, like the peeping of a sick hen, which
changed, as soon as the merchant had put his hand into his pocket, into
a joyful chuckle.
"Waves mountain-high," cried the agent.
"God reward you a thousand-fold," chuckled the woman.
"Comes to 550 merks, 10 shillings," said Baumann to the principal.
And now the door was vehemently pushed open, and a stoutly-built man
entered, with a bag of money under his arm, which he triumphantly
deposited on the marble table, exclaiming, with the air of one doing a
good action, "Here am I; and here is money!"
Mr. Jordan rose immediately, and said, in a friendly voice,
"Good-morning, Mr. Stephen; how goes the world in Wolfsburg?"
"A dreadful hole!" groaned Mr. Braun.
"Where?" inquired Fink.
"Not such a bad place either," said Mr. Stephen; "but little business
doing."
"Sixty-five sacks of Cuba," returned the principal to a question of one
of the clerks.
Meanwhile, the door opened again, and this time admitted a man-servant
and a Jew from Brody. The servant gave the merchant a note of invitation
to a dinner-party--the Jew crept to the corner where Fink sat.
"What brings you again, Schmeie Tinkeles?" coldly asked Fink; "I have
already told you that we would have no dealings with you."
"No dealings!" croaked the unlucky Tinkeles, in such execrable German
that Anton had difficulty in understanding him. "Such wool as I bring
has never been seen before in this country."
"How much a hundred weight?" asked Fink, writing, without looking at the
Jew.
"What I have already said."
"You are a fool," said Fink; "off with you!"
"Alas!" screamed he of the caftan, "what language is that? 'Off with
you!'--there's no dealing so."
"What do you want for your wool?
"41-2/3," said Tinkeles.
"Get out!" suggested Fink.
"Don't go on forever saying 'Get out!'" implored the Jew, in despair;
"say what you will give."
"If you ask such unreasonable prices, nothing at all," replied Fink,
beginning another sheet.
"Only say what you will give."
"Come, then, if you speak like a rational man," answered Fink, looking
at the Jew.
"I _am_ rational," was the low reply; "what will you give?"
"Thirty-nine," said Fink.
At that Schmeie Tinkeles went distracted, shook his black greasy hair,
and swore by all he held holy that he could not take it under 41,
whereupon Fink signified that he should be put out by one of the
servants if he made so much noise. The Jew, therefore, went off in high
dudgeon; soon, however, putting his head in again, and asking, "Well,
then, what will you give?"
"Thirty-nine," said Fink, watching the excitement he thus raised much as
an anatomist might the galvanic convulsions of a frog. The words
"thirty-nine" occasioned a fresh explosion in the mind of the Jew; he
came forward, solemnly committed his soul to the deepest abyss, and
declared himself the most unworthy wretch alive if he took less than 41.
As he could not profit by Fink's repeated exhortations to quit, a
servant was called. His appearance was so far composing, that Mr.
Tinkeles now declared he could go alone, and would go alone; whereupon
he stood still, and said 40-1/2. The agent, the provincials, and the
whole counting-house watched the progress of the bargain with some
curiosity; while Fink, with a certain degree of cordiality, proceeded to
counsel the poor Jew to retire without further discussion, seeing that
he was an utter fool, and there really was no dealing with him. Once
more the Jew went out, and Fink said to the principal, who was reading a
letter the while, "He'll let us have the wool if I let him have another
half dollar."
"How much is there of it?" asked the merchant.
"Six tons," said Fink.
"Take it," said Mr. Schröter, reading on.
Again the door opened and shut, the chattering went on, and Anton kept
wondering how they could speak of a purchase when the seller had been so
decided in his refusal of their terms. Once more the door was gently
pushed open, and Tinkeles, creeping behind Fink, laid his hand on his
shoulder, and said, in a melancholy but confidential voice, "What will
you give, then?"
Fink turned round, and replied with a good-natured smile, "If you please
to take it, Tinkeles, 39-1/3; but only on the condition that you do not
speak another word, otherwise I retract the offer."
"I am not speaking," answered the Jew. "Say 40."
Fink made a movement of impatience, and silently pointed to the door.
The wool-dealer went out once more.
"Now for it!" said Fink.
In a moment or two Tinkeles returned, and, with more composure of
manner, brought out "39-1/2, if you will take it at that."
After some appearance of uncertainty, Fink carelessly replied, "So be
it, then;" at which Schmeie Tinkeles underwent an utter transformation,
behaving like an amiable friend of the firm, and politely inquiring
after the health of the principal.
And so it went on; the door creaking, buyers and sellers coming and
going, men talking, pens scratching, and money pouring ceaselessly in.
The household of which Anton now formed part appeared to him to be most
impressive and singular. The house itself was an irregular and ancient
building, with wings, court-yards, out-houses, short stairs, mysterious
passages, and deep recesses. In the front part of it were handsome
apartments, occupied by the merchant's family. Mr. Schröter had only
been married for a very short time, his wife and child had died within
the year, and his sister was now his only near relation.
The merchant adhered rigidly to the old customs of the firm. All the
unmarried clerks formed part of the household, and dined with him
punctually at one o'clock. On the day after Anton's arrival, a few
minutes before that hour, he was taken to be introduced to the lady of
the house, and gazed with wonder at the elegance and magnificence of the
rooms through which he passed on his way to her presence.
Sabine Schröter's pale, delicate face, crowned with hair of raven black,
shone out very fair above her graceful summer attire. She seemed about
Anton's own age, but she had the dignity of a matron.
"My sister governs us all," said the merchant, looking fondly at her.
"If you have any wish, make it known to her; she is the good fairy who
keeps the house in order."
Anton looked at the fairy, and modestly replied, "Hitherto I have found
every thing exceed my wishes."
"Your life will, in time, appear a monotonous one," continued the
merchant. "Ours is a rigidly regular house, where you have much work to
look forward to, and little recreation. My time is much engrossed; but,
if you should ever need advice or assistance, I hope you will apply
directly to myself."
This short audience over, he rose and led Anton to the dining-room,
where all his colleagues were assembled; next, Sabine entered,
accompanied by an elderly lady, a distant relation, who looked very
good-natured. The clerks made their obeisance, and Anton took the seat
appointed to him at the end of a long table, among the younger of his
brethren. Opposite him sat Sabine, beside her brother, then the elderly
relative, and next to her, Fink. On the whole, it was a silent dinner.
Anton's neighbors said little, and that under their breath; but Fink
rattled away with thorough unconcern, told droll stories, mimicked
voices and manners, and was exaggerated in his attentions to the
good-natured relative. Anton was positively horrified at this freedom,
and fancied that the principal did not like it much better. The
black-coated domestics waited with the utmost propriety; and Anton rose
with the impression that this repast had been the most solemn and
stately of which he had ever partaken, and that he should get on with
all the household with the exception of "that Von Fink."
One day that they accidentally met on the staircase, Fink, who had not
for some time appeared conscious of his existence, stopped and asked
him, "Well, Master Wohlfart, how does this house suit you?"
To which Anton replied, "Exceedingly well, indeed. I see and hear so
much that is new to me that I have hardly thought of myself as yet."
"You'll soon get accustomed to it," said Fink, laughing; "one day is the
same as the other all the year long. On Sunday, an extra good dinner, a
glass of wine, and your best coat--that's all. You are one of the wheels
in the machine, and will be expected to grind regularly."
"I am aware that I must be industrious in order to merit Mr. Schröter's
confidence," was the rather indignant reply.
"Truly a virtuous remark; but you'll soon see, my poor lad, what a gulf
is fixed between the head of the firm and those who write his letters.
No prince on earth stands so far removed above his vassals as this same
coffee-lord above his clerks. But do not lay much stress on what I say,"
added he, more good-naturedly; "the whole house will tell you that I am
not quite _compos_. However, I'll give you a piece of good advice. Get
an English master, and make some progress before you got rusty. All they
teach you here will never make a clever man of you, if you happen to
want to be one. Good-night." And, turning upon his heel, he left our
Anton somewhat disconcerted.
Indeed, he too, in course of time, began to be conscious of the monotony
of a business life, but he did not fret about it, having been taught by
his parents habits of industry and order.
Mr. Jordan took much pains to initiate him into the mysteries of divers
wares; and the hours that he first spent in the warehouses, amid the
varied produce of different lands, were fraught with a certain poetry of
their own, as good, perhaps, as any other. There was a large, gloomy,
vaulted room on the ground floor, in which lay stores for the traffic of
the day. Tuns, bales, chests, were piled on each other, which every
land, every race, had contributed to fill. The floating palace of the
East India Company, the swift American brig, the patriarchal ark of the
Dutchman, the stout-ribbed whaler, the smoky steamer, the gay Chinese
junk, the light canoe of the Malay--all these had battled with winds and
waves to furnish this vaulted room. A Hindoo woman had woven that
matting; a Chinese had painted that chest; a Congo negro, in the service
of a Virginian planter, had looped those canes over the cotton bales;
that square block of zebra-wood had grown in the primeval forests of the
Brazils, and monkeys and bright-hued parrots had chattered among its
branches. Anton would stand long in this ancient hall, after Mr.
Jordan's lessons were over, absorbed in wonder and interest, till roof
and pillars seemed transferred to broad-leaved palm-trees, and the noise
of the streets to the roar of the sea--a sound he only knew in his
dreams; and this delight in what was foreign and unfamiliar never wore
off, but led him to become, by reading, intimately acquainted with the
countries whence all these stores came, and with the men by whom they
were collected.
Thus the first months of his life in the capital fled rapidly away; and
it was well for him that he took so much interest in his studies, for
Fink proved right in one respect. In spite of the daily meal in the
stately dining-room, Anton remained as great a stranger as ever to the
principal and his family. He was too rational, indeed, to murmur at
this, but he could not avoid feeling depressed by it; for, with the
enthusiasm of youth, he was ready to revere his chief as the ideal of
mercantile greatness. He admired his sagacity, decision, energy, and
inflexible uprightness, and would have been devoted to him heart and
soul, but that he so seldom saw him. When the merchant was not engaged
by business, he lived for his sister, whom he most tenderly loved. For
her he kept a carriage and horses which he himself never used, and gave
evening parties to which Anton and his colleagues were not invited. Gay
equipages rolled in one after the other, liveried servants ran up and
down stairs, and graceful shadows flitted across the windows, while
Anton sat in his little upper chamber, and yearned eagerly after the
brilliant gayeties in which he had no part. True, his reason told him
that they did not belong to men of his class, but at nineteen reason is
not always supreme; and many a time he went back with a sigh from his
window to his books, and tried to forget the alluring strains of the
quadrille and waltz in the descriptions of the lion's roar and the
bull-frog's croak in the far-off tropics.