CORNER LOTS.
Mr. Plausaby was one of those men who speak upon a level pitch, in a
gentle and winsome monotony. His voice was never broken by impulse, never
shaken by feeling. He was courteous without ostentation, treating
everybody kindly without exactly seeming to intend it. He let fall
pleasant remarks incidentally or accidentally, so that one was always
fortuitously overhearing his good opinion of one's self. He did not have
any conscious intent to flatter each person with some ulterior design in
view, but only a general disposition to keep everybody cheerful, and an
impression that it was quite profitable as a rule to stand well with
one's neighbors.
The morning after Charlton's arrival the fat passenger called, eager as
usual to buy lots. To his lively imagination, every piece of ground
staked off into town lots had infinite possibilities. It seemed that the
law of probabilities had been no part of the sanguine gentleman's
education, but the gloriousness of possibilities was a thing that he
appreciated naturally; hopefulness was in his very fiber.
Mr. Plausaby spread his "Map of Metropolisville" on the table, let his
hand slip gently down past the "Depot Ground," so that the fat gentleman
saw it without seeming to have had his attention called to it; then
Plausaby, Esq., looked meditatively at the ground set apart for
"College," and seemed to be making a mental calculation. Then Plausaby
proceeded to unfold the many advantages of the place, and Albert was a
pleased listener; he had never before suspected that Metropolisville had
prospects so entirely dazzling. He could not doubt the statements of the
bland Plausaby, who said these things in a confidential and reserved way
to the fat gentleman. Charlton did not understand, but Plausaby did, that
what is told in a corner to a fat gentleman with curly hair and a hopeful
nose is sure to be repeated from the house-tops.
"You are an Episcopalian, I believe?" said Plausaby, Esq. The fat
gentleman replied that he was a Baptist.
"Oh! well, I might have known it from your cordial way of talking.
Baptist myself, in principle. In principle, at least Not a member of any
church, sorry to say. Very sorry. My mother and my first Wife were both
Baptists. Both of them. I have a very warm side for the good old Baptist
church. Very warm side. And a warm side for every Baptist. Every Baptist.
To say nothing of the feeling I have always had for you--well, well, let
us not pass compliments. Business is business in this country. In this
country, you know. But I will tell _you_ one thing. The lot there marked
'College' I am just about transferring to trustees for a Baptist
university. There are two or three parties, members of Dr. Armitage's
church in New York City, that are going to give us a hundred thousand
dollars endowment. A hundred thousand dollars. Don't say anything about
it. There are people who--well, who would spoil the thing if they could.
We have neighbors, you know. Not very friendly ones. Not very friendly.
Perritaut, for instance. It isn't best to tell one's neighbor all one's
good luck. Not all one's good luck," and Plausaby, Esq., smiled knowingly
at the fat man, who did his best to screw his very transparent face into
a crafty smile in return. "Besides," continued Squire Plausaby, "once let
it get out that the Baptist University is going to occupy that block, and
there'll be a great demand--"
[Illustration: PLAUSABY SELLS LOTS.]
"For all the blocks around," said the eager fat gentleman, growing
impatient at Plausaby's long-windedness.
"Precisely. For all the blocks around," went on Plausaby. "And I want to
hold on to as much of the property in this quarter as--"
"As you can, of course," said the other.
"As I can, of course. As much as I can, of course. But I'd like to have
you interested. You are a man of influence. A man of weight. Of weight of
character. You will bring other Baptists. And the more Baptists, the
better for--the better for--"
"For the college, of course."
"Exactly. Precisely. For the college, of course. The more, the better.
And I should like your name on the board of trustees of--of--"
"The college?"
"The university, of course. I should like your name."
The fat gentleman was pleased at the prospect of owning land near the
Baptist University, and doubly pleased at the prospect of seeing his name
in print as one of the guardians of the destiny of the infant
institution. He thought he would like to buy half of block 26.
"Well, no. I couldn't sell in 26 to you or any man. Couldn't sell to any
man. I want to hold that block because of its slope. I'll sell in 28 _to
you_, and the lots there are just about as good. Quite as good, indeed.
But I want to build on 26."
The fat gentleman declared that he wouldn't have anything but lots in 26.
That block suited his fancy, and he didn't care to buy if he could not
have a pick.
"Well, you're an experienced buyer, I see," said Plausaby, Esq. "An
experienced buyer. Any other man would have preferred 28 to 26. But
you're a little hard to insist on that particular block. I want you here,
and I'll _give_ half of 28 rather than sell you out of 26."
"Well, now, my friend, I am sorry to seem hard. But I fastened my eye on
26. I have a fine eye for direction and distance. One, two, three, four
blocks from the public square. That's the block with the solitary
oak-tree in it, if I'm right. Yes? Well, I must have lots in that very
block. When I take a whim of that kind, heaven and earth can't turn me,
Mr. Plausaby. So you'd just as well let me have them."
Plausaby, Esq., at last concluded that he would sell to the plump
gentleman any part of block 26 except the two lots on the south-east
corner. But that gentleman said that those were the very two he had fixed
his eyes upon. He would not buy if there were any reserves. He always
took his very pick out of each town.
"Well," said Mr. Plausaby coaxingly, "you see I have selected those two
lots for my step-daughter. For little Katy. She is going to get married
next spring, I suppose, and I have promised her the two best in the town,
and I had marked off these two. Marked them off for her. I'll sell you
lots alongside, nearly as good, for half-price. Just half-price."
But the fat gentleman was inexorable. Mr. Plausaby complained that the
fat gentleman was hard, and the fat gentleman was pleased with the
compliment. Having been frequently lectured by his wife for being so easy
and gullible, he was now eager to believe himself a very Shylock. Did not
like to rob little Kate of her marriage portion, he said, but he must
have the best or none. He wanted the whole south half of 26.
And so Mr. Plausaby sold him the corner-lot and the one next to it for
ever so much more than their value, pathetically remarking that he'd have
to hunt up some other lots for Kate. And then Mr. Plausaby took the fat
gentleman out and showed him the identical corner, with the little oak
and the slope to the south.
"Mother," said Albert, when they were gone, "is Katy going to be married
in the spring?"
"Why, how should I know?" queried Mrs. Plausaby, as she adjusted her
collar, the wide collar of that day, and set her breastpin before the
glass. "How should I know? Katy has never told me. There's a young man
hangs round here Sundays, and goes boating and riding with her, and makes
her presents, and walks with her of evenings, and calls her his pet and
his darling and all that kind of nonsense, and I half-suspect"--here she
took out her breastpin entirely and began over again--"I half-suspect
he's in earnest. But what have I got to do with it? Kate must marry for
herself. I did twice, and done pretty well both times. But I can't see to
Kate's beaux. Marrying, my son, is a thing everybody must attend to
personally for themselves. At least, so it seems to me." And having
succeeded in getting her ribbon adjusted as she wanted it, Mrs. Plausaby
looked at herself in the glass with an approving conscience.
"But is Kate going to be married in the spring?" asked Albert.
"I don't know whether she will have her wedding in the spring or summer.
I can't bother myself about Kate's affairs. Marrying is a thing that
everybody must attend to personally for themselves, Albert. If Kate gets
married, I can't help it; and I don't know as there's any great sin in
it. You'll get married yourself some day."
"Did fa--did Mr. Plausaby promise Katy some lots?"
"Law, no! Every lot he sells 'most is sold for Kate's lot. It's a way he
has. He knows how to deal with these sharks. If you want any trading
done, Albert, you let Mr. Plausaby do it for you."
"But, mother, that isn't right."
"You've got queer notions, Albert. You'll want us all to quit eating
meat, I suppose. Mr. Plausaby said last night you'd be cheated out of
your eyes before you'd been here a month, if you stuck to your ideas of
things. You see, you don't understand sharks. Plausaby does. But then
that is not my lookout. I have all I can do to attend to myself. But Mr.
Plausaby _does_ know how to manage sharks."
The more Albert thought the matter over, the more he was convinced that
Mr. Plausaby did know how to manage sharks. He went out and examined the
stakes, and found that block 26 did not contain the oak, but was much
farther down in the slough, and that the corner lots that were to have
been Katy's wedding portion stretched quite into the peat bog, and
further that if the Baptist University should stand on block 27, it would
have a baptistery all around it.