On one occasion a young man of my acquaintance called to examine some pocket-books. He inquired the prices, and finally selected one that pleased him. He said he would take it, but he desired me to give him a credit on it for a few weeks. I told him that had he wanted any article of necessity which I had for sale, I would not object to trusting him a short time, but it struck me that a pocket-book was something of a superfluity for a person who had no money. He replied that it did not strike him in that light, and that he did not see why it was not as proper to seek credit for a pocket-book as for any thing else. He however failed to convince me of the necessity of his possessing such an article until he had something to put into it, and I therefore declined his proposition.
My little store became a favorite resort for the men in our village, and many is the good practical joke that was enacted there.
Danbury is situated about eight miles east of the line which separates the State of Connecticut from that of New York. Several eccentric individuals from “York State” were in the habit of visiting Bethel. Among these was a gray-headed old miller whom I will call Crofut. Another was Mr. Hackariah Bailey, always for short called “Hack Bailey.” Crofut was a very profane man. Almost every other word was an oath. He had become so confirmed in a habit of swearing, that he was quite unaware of the extent of his profanity. He was a man of wealth. He generally visited Bethel to dispose of wheat-flour, bringing it in bags piled up to the very top of a large wagon, drawn by a pair of splendid horses. Crofut and Bailey were both self-willed men. When their minds were made up, there was no turning them. Hack Bailey was a showman. He imported the first elephant that was ever brought to this country, and made a fortune by exhibiting it. He was afterwards extensively engaged in travelling menageries, and subsequently was very successful in running opposition steamboats upon the North River. He built a fine hotel in Somers, N. Y., the place of his residence, called it the Elephant Hotel, and erected a large stone pillar in front of it, on which he placed a golden elephant.
One day, Crofut was in my little store, engaged in conversation with many of our neighbors, who were always sure to congregate about him whenever he came to the village. His language as usual partook largely of the profane. Nathan Seelye, Esq., one of our village justices of the peace, who was a strict man in his religious principles, came in, and hearing the conversation told Mr. Crofut that he considered it his duty to fine him one dollar for swearing.
Crofut responded immediately with an oath, that he did not care a d – n for the Connecticut blue-laws.
“That will make two dollars,” said Mr. Seelye.
This brought forth another oath.
“Three dollars,” said the sturdy justice.
Nothing but oaths were given in reply, until Esquire Seelye declared the damage to the Connecticut laws to amount to fifteen dollars.
Crofut took out a twenty-dollar bill, and handed it to the justice of the peace, with an oath.
“Sixteen dollars,” said Mr. Seelye, counting out four dollars to hand to Mr. Crofut, as his change.
“Oh, keep it, keep it,” said Crofut, “I don’t want any change, I’ll d—n soon swear out the balance” – and he did so, after which he was more circumspect in his conversation, remarking that twenty dollars a day for swearing was about as much as he could stand.
“Hack Bailey,” after making many thousand dollars by the exhibition of his elephant, concluded to take the world a little easier, and in order to avoid the necessity of travelling any more through the country, he sold one half of his interest in the animal to a showman, who agreed to exhibit the elephant and account to Hack for one half the receipts.
After the partner had been absent some weeks, Hack began to look with some anxiety for a remittance. Nothing came, however, and he wrote to his partner to inquire the cause. He received no reply. At last, becoming impatient, he took the stage to Boston, and in the course of a few days overtook his partner at New Bedford, Mass. Hack asked him why he had not remitted his portion of the profits. He was assured, in reply, that there were no profits, that the expenses swallowed them all, etc.
Hack knew better than this, for he had heard that the elephant had drawn large crowds wherever he went, and he saw that many hundreds of persons visited the exhibition in New Bedford. He therefore insisted on a settlement.
“I will settle with you when I return next fall; I have no time now,” replied the stubborn partner.
This reply strengthened Hack’s conviction that his chance for the profits under the present management was a very slim one. He then offered to sell his interest in the elephant to his partner.
“I have elephant stock enough now,” was the reply.
“Well, I will buy out your interest,” said Hack.
“No, I thank you, I don’t care about selling; I am very well satisfied as it is.”
“But I am not,” replied Hack, “and I won’t stand it. You shall not travel any longer in charge of this elephant as long as I own any interest in him.”
“I would like to see you prevent it. Our written contract stipulates that I am to have charge of the elephant, and next fall we are to settle up,” replied the partner.
“But it also stipulates that you are to remit me one half of the profits as fast as they accrue,” replied Hack.
“Yes, and no faster. I tell you there are no profits,” responded the partner.
Hack grew more indignant. “Will you sell your half of the elephant?” he asked.
“No,” was the reply.
“Will you buy my half?”
“No.”
“Then you go no farther with the animal,” replied Hack.
“I know the law, and defy you to try it,” responded the partner.
“I’ll try something that will be effectual, as I am a living man,” said Hack, who now felt the lion fairly aroused within him.
“Try what you please,” was the reply.
The next morning at daylight the partner went to the barn to take the elephant, which was to be led to the next town. He found Hack Bailey standing at the elephant’s side with a loaded rifle.
“Don’t you touch that animal quite yet,” said Hack, raising his rifle.
“Mr. Bailey, do you mean to kill me?” cried the affrighted partner.
“No, sir,” replied Mr. Bailey, “I mean to do nothing but what is lawful. I came here to get my rights. You refuse them to me. You ought to know me better than to suppose you can impose upon me any longer. You have refused to buy or sell – now you may do what you please with your half of that elephant, but I am fully determined to shoot my half!”
The man knew that there was no back-out in the character of Hack Bailey, and he saw also that he was never more in earnest in his life. Hack raised the rifle to his shoulder and pointed it towards the elephant.
“Stop, stop, and I’ll settle,” exclaimed the partner with a look of horror.
“Oh, no, you won’t,” said Hack, proceeding to take aim.
“I will, upon honor,” was the earnest reply.
Hack lowered his rifle, and within half an hour afterwards he had sold his half of the elephant to his partner for a good round price, and the animal thus escaped having the life taken out of at least one half of him.
My grandfather, being a Justice of the Peace, frequently had to sit in judgment upon civil and criminal suits. On one occasion a man was arrested on a grand jury complaint for assault and battery. The case was to be tried before my grandfather.