READER! did you ever have a visit from that dreaded
functionary--that rod in pickle, held in terrorem over the heads of
the whole note-paying fraternity, yclepted a notary? I do not mean
to insult you: so don't look so dark and dignified. I am serious. If
no--why no, and there let the matter rest, as far as you are
concerned; if yes, why yes, and so I have an auditor who can
understand me.
As for me, I have been protested. I say it neither with shame nor
pride. Yes, I have suffered notarial visitation, and am still alive
to tell the tale.
I was in business when the exciting event occurred, and I am still
in business, and I believe as well off as I was then. But let me
relate the circumstance.
When I first started in the world for myself, I had a few thousand
dollars. In a little while, I found myself solicited on all sides to
make bills. I could have bought fifty thousand dollars' worth of
goods as easily as to the amount of five thousand dollars; and the
smallest sum I have named was about the extent of my real capital.
There was one firm importunate above the rest, and they were
successful in getting me into their debt more heavily than I was to
any other house. If I happened to be passing their store, I would be
called in, with--
"Here, Jones, I want to show you something. New goods just in; the
very thing for your sales."