How SCAPEGRACE first made acquaintance with SCRIP.
As I walked through the wilderness of 'Change Alley, I lighted on a
certain coffee-house, where there was a box in the corner, and, falling
asleep therein, I dreamed a dream.
I dreamed, and behold I saw a man bearing a burden on his back, walking
up and down the Alley in grievous plight; and ever and anon he put his
hands into his breeches pockets, as if in search of something, but drew
out nothing. Then he turned his pockets inside out, and cried--"Wo is
me! what shall I do?"
And, as he turned his back to me, I saw his burden, which was large and
heavy; and thereon was writ, in large characters, the word "Debt:" and
drawing near, methought the bag was stuffed quite full of mortgages,
bonds, bills, post-obits, and suchlike, wherewith he appeared to be
weighed down even to the ground.
And, as he made his moan, and strove to unloose his burden from his
back, behold another man came up to him, who also bare his burden upon
his back; but, though it seemed larger and heavier than his fellow's, he
wore a smiling countenance, and skipped along as lightly as if his pack
had been filled with feathers; and, drawing near to the first man, he
thus accosted him:--
"How now, neighbour SCAPEGRACE, wherefore so in the dumps? Thou seemest
to have a sore struggle with thy load, which, sooth to say, seems a
heavy one. Can I lend thee a helping hand?"
"In good faith, neighbour STAGMAN," answered Scapegrace, "so long as
this burden sticks to my back, I shall have no peace or rest, by night
or by day, for I know not how long I may be left at large; and men say
that, even now, one Gripeman hath a writ out against me, at the suit of
Mr Legality, and that I shall be hauled away to prison incontinently.
Bail, as thou knowest, I can find none; for Easyman, who stood surety
for me aforetime, is bankrupt, and thou, Stagman, hast not a penny in
thy purse--if thou wert ever so much inclined to befriend me."
"Nay, not so fast, friend," replied Stagman; "matters have gone better
with me of late than thou wouldst suppose; and perchance, if thou wilt
listen to me, I can put thee on a way to get quit of this thy
burden!--or, if thou wouldst rather do as I do, to fill thy pockets,
keep thy burden still, and yet dance under it as lightly as if it were
no burden at all."
"Of a truth," said Scapegrace, "I long to hear how these things may be."
"Know then," said Stagman, "that of late all the world have gone crazed
after a new fashion of travelling, or rather flying, discovered by Mr
Ironman, by means of which the traveller reacheth his journey's end ere
he well knoweth that he hath begun it, smoking his pipe, or reading the
newspaper all the way, as he skimmeth along over hills and valleys,
sloughs and morasses."
"These be pleasant tidings," cried Scapegrace.
"And profitable likewise," answered Stagman, "for all that are concerned
in these new highways; for now-a-days none will take the old roads,
which are fast becoming full of ruts and pitfalls, fearful to behold,
and all must soon resort per force to those made by Mr Ironman, who
levieth a heavy toll on all passengers at various wicket-gates which he
hath set up along the road. Now, as Ironman required some friends to
assist him with money in making his roads, he hath formed various goodly
companies, who lend him their money in the mean time, and share
thereafter in the tolls levied from the pilgrims that use the road. If
thou couldst but be joined to one of these companies, as I have been,
thy burden might soon be lighter. And even now there is a new road about
to be begun, which I doubt not would make thee rich in brief space, if
thou wert but a sharer therein."
"Whither goeth this road?" asked Scapegrace.
From the town of LITTLE-GO, by HAP-HAZARD, towards CENT-PER-CENT, and
thence to the great city of ELDORADO," answered Stagman. "Thereafter, if
the traffic answer, we contemplate a branch rail to UTOPIA."
"But methought," said Scapegrace, "that road of which thou speak'st was
full of rocks, and deep pits, and swamps, and quagmires, and other
frightfuls. I do remember me of a certain SLOUGH OF DESPOND, Wherein
Sundry Travellers Were Bemired to purpose, and some hardly escaped with
their lives."
"The Slough of Despond, quotha!" cried Stagman; "a certain man, called
in the vulgar tongue a Contractor, undertakes to fill it up, and to lay
a double line of rails, with sidings, across it in a fortnight."
"Truly, we live in strange times, neighbour," said Scrapegrace. "But
then the HILL OF DIFFICULTY?"
"Is no difficulty after all," interrupted Stagman; "we pass right
through the centre of it by a tunnel in two minutes, so that you need
never know there was a hill there. The strata are all clay and
sandstone, exceeding well fitted for boring."
"Then the VALLEY OF HUMILIATION, and the road which leads
there-through?" asked Scapegrace.
"We go slap across it in the twinkling of a bedpost, by a handsome
viaduct of thirty arches on the skew principle," said Stagman.
"Lo, you now!" said Scapegrace, marvelling--"Surely, however, the road
is rugged and hilly?"
"Thou wouldst say, the gradients are bad; not so, there is none worse
than one in the hundred--quite as good as the Caledonian."
"I know not that road," said Scrapegrace.
"So much the better for thee," answered Stagman gravely.
"But, neighbour, how do you contrive to carry your road through other
men's grounds?" said Scapegrace.
"We promise to share the profits with them," said Stagman, "and so keep
them quiet; or put them on the Provisional Committee, with power to
audit their own accounts. Sometimes, no doubt, we are put to our shifts
for a time, as was the case with Squire Despair of Doubting Castle, who
opposed us on the standing orders, and threatened to throw us out in
committee; but, as it ended in our buying Doubting Castle at his own
price, and paying him handsomely for intersectional damage besides, he
soon withdrew his opposition, and is now an active promoter of the line.
Indeed, I know not any one who can give us further trouble, except it be
old Pope, who says the road will ruin his villa, and be the death of any
of his bulls that get upon the line; but as we know that he is as poor
as a church rat, and will never show face in the committee, we mind him
not, and, in truth, I have no doubt the committee will find the preamble
proved."
"Find what?" enquired Scapegrace;--"methinks, Stagman, thou dealest in
strange words, and usest a jargon hard to be understood of men."
"Find the preamble proved," answered Stagman; "which means we shall be
empowered to make the road."
"I suppose then, neighbour," said Scapegrace, "there will be great
resort of travellers to this same CENT-PER-CENT, and much toll levied
thereat?"
"The passenger traffic, the prospectus says, will be enormous," answered
Stagman; "and the minerals along the line are of course inexhaustible."
"But tell me, neighbour, is this same mode of travel as pleasant for the
wayfarers as thou sayest?"
"Exceedingly pleasant for the survivors," answered Stagman. "Doubtless
it sometimes happens that a carriage or two will run over a precipice,
or the down-train from Little-go may run into the up-train from
Hap-hazard, whereby some dozen lives may go amissing; but such accidents
are unavoidable, and it is satisfactory to know that on these occasions
there never yet has been the slightest blame imputable to any one
concerned--the stoker being invariably a most respectable man, and the
utmost attention paid to the signals."
"Nay now, neighbour Stagman," said Scapegrace; "all this is mighty
comfortable and encouraging, and I long much to have share with thee in
this same business."
"I know not," said Stagman, "whether that may be; for the way is narrow,
and many there be that would go in thereat. But look you, neighbour, I
have promised to do you service if I can, and I will tell you how to set
about it. There is an ancient friend of mine, who hath stood me in good
stead before now, his name is Mr Scrip; he hath holpen many a one in
worse plight than thou art; so that by his aid, from being poor and
needy, they have become well to do in the world in a short space. Let us
go together to him; he dwelth in Paper Buildings hard by; it may be that
he will stand thy friend, and help thee out of this thy difficulty."
So methought the men went both together, and, knocking at the door of Mr
Scrip, they were shown into his apartment, which was all garnished with
slips of paper, whereon were strange figures and characters written,
which no man could read or understand. He wore a coat of many colours,
the pockets of which appeared to be stuffed with papers, bearing the
like figures; he was always looking either up or down, and he moved to
and fro continually, as if he could not sit still in one place for a
moment.
"Mr Scrip," said Stagman, "you must know here is a friend of mine who is
presently sore bestead, and lacketh thine aid. He would fain have of
thee some of those wonderful papers of thine, whereby so many have
become so suddenly rich; and, for the sake of our old acquaintance, I
pray you pleasure him in this matter."
Then methought Mr Scrip looked fixedly upon Scapegrace, and shook his
head consumedly. "The applications," said he, "are so numerous, that the
Provisional Committee have been compelled to decline many from the most
respectable quarters, and in all cases greatly to restrict the amount
allocated." But observing that Scapegrace appeared much discomfited at
these words, he said, after a time--"Howbeit, as the man is a friend of
thine, and this is the first time he hath come to me, I will for this
once do for him according to his wish." So, putting his hand into his
nether raiment, he pulled out certain slips of paper, and put them into
Scapegrace's hand, saying--"Take these, and put them into the purse thou
bearest with thee; they are called after my name: a fortnight hence thou
wilt pay to me a deposit of twenty crowns thereon, but thereafter thou
mayst sell them for ten times that sum."
"Alas," cried Scapegrace, "for now I am utterly undone! I have not a
crown in the world, and how can I pay the deposit?"
"Nay, neighbour, have a good heart," cried Stagman, drawing him into a
corner; "long before the fortnight comes, we shall have sold these
papers to some other man, who will pay the twenty crowns for thee, and
give thee a hundred beside for thy pains. At the worst, thou hast but to
burn thy papers and be seen no more of men, which, if Gripeman should
lay hold on thee, would happen in any wares. Take the papers, be of good
comfort, thank Mr Scrip for his kindness, and tell him thou wilt call
another day with the twenty crowns."
So Scapegrace took the papers, and they thanked Mr Scrip, and went their
way.