NEW FACES
A snap of the whip, horses prancing, and with the notes of the horn
waking the echoes in the hills, we drove out from "Redstone" just
after luncheon and commenced the first stage of our sixty-mile
drive to Normandie-by-the-Sea, where we were to spend the rest of
the summer.
This was on a Friday, about the middle of July, 1890. On the drag
my wife sat beside me on the box-seat; behind us were the six
children and maid, and in the rumble, my two men. It was a very
jolly party as we went bowling along over the finest roads in the
State, and we minded not the gentle rain falling steadily. All
were dry in mackintoshes and under the leather aprons, and passing
through one village after another we were of the opinion that there
is nothing quite so inspiring as driving through the country behind
four spirited horses in any kind of weather. Just at half-past five
we crossed the bridge over the Raritan and drove into New Brunswick,
where we were to stop over night.
After a good night's rest and an eight o'clock breakfast we were
off again.
The rain had ceased and the day was bright and beautiful, with no
dust to mar the pleasure of our drive. On through Old Bridge and
Mattawan to Keyport, where we stopped for luncheon. Then away on
the last stage of the delightful journey. Stopping at one of the
toll-gates to water the horses the woman in charge looked up at
the merry lot of children, and then turning to my wife asked, "Are
those children _all_ yours"? With a laugh I said "guilty," and
away we went. The hands of the clock on the dashboard were at six
as we drove up to the hotel, sharp on time.
We soon became acquainted with many of the guests at the hotel, who
were a pleasant lot of people, and were particularly attracted to
a Mr. and Mrs. Edward Banford of New York.
Ned Banford, a man then about thirty years of age, good looking,
genial, and clever, was a manufacturing jeweler and is still in
that business. His wife, a very charming woman, is now prominent
in golfing circles. Before the season was over, we numbered the
Banfords amongst our intimate friends. Ned and I were companions
on our daily trips to and from the city, and before I had known
him more than a few weeks he had voluntarily told me a good deal
about his business affairs.
He said his own capital was very small and a wealthy friend, a Mr.
Viedler, was backing him, and at that time had ten thousand dollars
in his business. He enlarged on the liberality of this friend,
saying, amongst other things, that when he went to him for money
he never asked anything further than, "How much do you want, Ned"?
and then writing a cheque would hand it to him.
He also told me that his business was very profitable and the only
disadvantage he labored under was Mr. Viedler's frequent absence.
This sort of talk went on daily until one morning he told me that
the day previous he had an offer of a lot of precious stones for
five thousand dollars which he could have turned over inside of
thirty days with a profit of two thousand dollars, but had to pass
it because Mr. Viedler was out of town.
The same spirit which always moved me to do what I could to help
everybody I knew led me to say to him, "Ned, I do not want to put
any money in a sinking fund for a long pull, as I may have use
for all my capital in my own business; but any time you want five
thousand dollars for thirty days, I will be glad to let you have
it."
He wanted it very soon. In a few days I loaned him five thousand
dollars, and after that, until September, 1893, there was no time
he did not owe me from five thousand to fifteen thousand dollars.
After we returned to "Redstone" we had the Banfords out for a visit,
and a little later visited them in New York. They gave a dinner
in our honor, and those amongst the guests who become prominent in
this narrative hereafter were Mr. and Mrs. Albert Caine, Mr. and
Mrs. William Curtice, and Mr. and Mrs. George Todd.
This dinner was the commencement of a long and intimate friendship
with all of those I have named. Very many were the good times we
had together, visits back and forth, dinners, driving trips, theatre
parties, trips to Atlantic City, Lakewood, and other resorts, to
Princeton and New Haven for the college games--nothing that promised
a good time was allowed to get by us.
The birthdays and wedding anniversaries of all were duly celebrated,
and gifts interchanged at Christmas between both parents and
children. It was indeed a happy, joyous circle of friends.
My business affairs continued to prosper, and for my second year,
as an importer and dealer, my books showed a profit of sixty-eight
thousand dollars.