The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2 No 4, October, 1862

CHAPTER VIII.

HOW HIRAM MEEKER FLOURISHED AT BURNSVILLE

Hiram entered on his new duties—I was about to say with zeal and activity; such are not the words I would employ to describe his conduct or character, but rather earnestness and fidelity. Neither do these terms precisely convey my meaning, but none better occur to me. He was quiet and unobtrusive, at the same time alert and ready. Absolutely negative in his manner, he did not leave a salient point for Mr. Burns to lay hold of. His first object was to learn exactly the situation of his employer's affairs, and that without manifesting the least curiosity on the subject.

Of course, such an event as the introduction of a young man into Mr. Burns's private office was soon known all over town. The appearance of the new-comer was scrutinized, and every word and gesture watched. This Hiram knew very well, and bore himself accordingly. Wherever he went, whether on some business to Slab City with Mr. Burns's horse and wagon, or into the store, or about the village, he carried with him the careful, considerate air of one who is charged with affairs of the greatest importance.

Do not think Hiram was so foolish as to assume a consequential air—not he. His manner appeared quite involuntary; produced necessarily by the grave matters he had in charge. He was by no means reserved. He was always ready to enter into conversation and to answer questions, provided the questions did not refer to his employer's business. Thus he soon gained the reputation in Burnsville which he had in Hampton, of being a very agreeable young man. At first his presence rather puzzled the good people, and some would inquire of Hiram what he was 'hired for;' his answer was ready and explicit: 'To act as confidential clerk for Mr. Burns.' This would be pronounced in a tone so decided, that while it only stimulated the curiosity of the inquirer, it checked further questioning.

In this way, without appearing conceited, arrogant, or consequential, our hero managed to impress every body with the importance and responsibility of his position. Wherever he appeared, folks would say: 'There goes Meeker.' As Mr. Burns's representative, he was noticed more than Mr. Burns himself. Hiram knew very well how to manage all this, and he did so to perfection.

It would have done you good to see Hiram on Sunday, elaborately dressed, going to church with the Widow Hawkins on his arm, followed by the two Miss Hawkins. Walking up the aisle, his countenance composed and serious, he would open the pew-door and wait reverently for Mrs. H. and the young ladies, to pass in. They, 'the young ladies,' would flutter along and enter the pew with a pleased, satisfied air—they were already in love with Hiram—and after the usual turnings and twistings and adjustments, would take their seats, the one next our hero giving him a little bit of a smile or a brief whisper ere she settled down into the ordinary church decorum.

Hiram all the while would not move a muscle. He never cast his eyes around the congregation—he never looked any where except at the clergyman, to whom he paid profound attention. When the services were over, he escorted Mrs. Hawkins back to her house, while the young ladies sometimes stopped to say a few words to their companions.

In a fortnight Hiram had taken a class in the Sunday-school, of which Mr. Burns was superintendent, and on the next communion Sabbath he joined the church by letter.

For some time Hiram confined himself in the office to following implicitly the instructions of Mr. Burns, without venturing to ask any questions or make any suggestions. He carried out these instructions to the letter. He wrote a beautiful hand. He was, as the reader knows, an admirable accountant. For several days Mr. Burns seemed disposed to ascertain his capabilities by putting a variety of matters into his hands. He gave him a contract to copy, and then asked for an abstract of it. He submitted several long accounts to him for arrangement. He sent him to the mill or factory, sometimes to deliver a message simply, sometimes to look after a matter of consequence. Mr. Burns found Hiram on all these occasions to be intelligent, accurate, and prompt. He invariably manifested this single characteristic, to wit, undivided attention to the matter in hand.

'He is an invaluable fellow, I declare,' said Mr. Burns to himself; 'I wish I could feel differently toward him. Strange how a first prejudice will stick to one!'

'I think I am gaining ground,' soliloquized Hiram. 'Let him try me—the more the better. I shall do him good in spite of himself.'

During this period, which we may term Hiram's novitiate, he had been careful, without appearing to avoid her, not to come in contact with Sarah Burns. Mr. Burns was a very hospitable man, but he had omitted to ask Hiram to visit him. The latter was not slow to perceive and appreciate the neglect. He did not mind it much, though. He had gained his position, and felt he could take care of himself.

Meantime Sarah frequently inquired of her father how he liked his new clerk. At first, as we have stated, she felt jealous that any one should share his business confidences with her, but soon she resigned herself to this, and learning who was to enter her father's service, she hoped that she would find an agreeable acquaintance in the young man with whom—if the truth be told—she was really much pleased when they met at Mrs. Crofts'. We have already described the wrath of young Meeker at receiving, as he supposed, the cut direct from Sarah Burns the first day he visited the place. Sarah, entirely unconscious of having given offense, began to wonder how it happened that she never encountered him on any occasion. They attended the same church, each had a class in the Sunday-school, they met in the lecture-room, but never where an opportunity was afforded for them to speak. At last, one Sunday, after he had finished with his class, Hiram started to go to the library to procure some books for his pupils, and perceived, when it was too late, that Miss Burns herself was making choice of some. Another moment, and Hiram was close at her side, but intent on his selections.

'He is diffident,' said Sarah to herself, 'and thinks I do not recognize him because I did not when we met so unexpectedly. It is proper I should speak to him.'

'How do you do, Mr. Meeker?' she said.

Hiram looked up with well-feigned surprise.

'Very well, I thank you,' he replied, with polite formality; 'I hope you are quite well;' and barely waiting for her bow of assent, he busied himself with the books again.

'How he has altered! What can be the matter with him?' thought Sarah as she turned to resume her place.

'Pretty well for encounter Number two,' muttered Hiram, as he walked back to his class. 'Wait a little, young lady, and we will see who comes off second best.'

Louisa and Charlotte Hawkins were both very pretty girls. Their mother, now several years a widow, was an estimable lady, who had by no means lost her good looks. Possessing excellent health, she made a very youthful appearance, and seemed more like an elder sister than the mother of her daughters. Her husband left her a moderate income, which an unforeseen occurrence had the last season diminished. It was this circumstance which induced her to listen to Hiram's application to become a member of her family. His recommendations were so ample, what Mr. Burns said about him was so satisfactory, and the price which Hiram volunteered to pay for his accommodations so generous, that Mrs. Hawkins found it impossible to refuse him. I will not say that Hiram's manner and address did not serve to turn the scale. The widow was gratified with the extraordinary deference paid to her, with which was mingled a species of admiration, while the young ladies, who were of course brought into the consultation, were somehow severally impressed with the idea that Hiram must be perfectly charming in a private tête-à-tête with mamma and sister out of the room.

Hiram's plan with the ladies was literally to divide and conquer. Mrs. Hawkins had too much good sense to take matters seriously, but she could not help being flattered by the assiduous and persevering attentions of so young and handsome a fellow. In fact, she looked five years younger herself, after Hiram came to her house. These attentions, however, were not out of the common course. They were apparently just what it was eminently proper and polite to render; but we have already explained that Hiram had a delicate and most insinuating way of giving force and meaning to them.

Ah! well, after all, we would not intimate that the widow Hawkins, now forty years of age, ever entertained any other thought toward Hiram than that he would make a most delightful son-in-law, or if she did experience feelings which people take for granted belong only to the young, (people are much mistaken,) it is not for me to betray or expose them.

But the young ladies, Miss Louisa and Miss Charlotte—here was a more difficult task, to render equal justice to each. Candidly, however, I think Hiram accomplished it. Louisa was already one-and-twenty, but she had glossy dark hair which she wore in curls down her neck, and served to give her a very youthful appearance. Charlotte, who was nearly two years younger than her sister, was always taken by strangers to be the eldest. She was a blonde, and wore her light brown hair plain over her face. Both these young ladies soon had their private impression that there were peculiar confidences between them and Hiram. It was the old story again. Our hero had lost none of his powers of fascination in removing from Hampton to Burnsville.

You see, reader, how pleasantly Hiram was quartered. I do not suppose that a thought of Mary Jessup ever entered his brain (to say nothing of his heart, if he had any) after he came to Mrs. Hawkins's. He attended to his business devotedly, and never in a single instance sacrificed it to his pleasure, his comfort, or his inclinations. When it was finished, he found solace and enjoyment in the society of these ladies, much as he would enjoy his dinner, though in a higher degree, and with a keener zest.

After the meeting with Miss Burns at the Sunday-school, Hiram no longer avoided her. Still, he confined himself to courteous salutations, in which he appeared perfectly at his ease, and unrestrained, without getting into conversation or alluding to a previous acquaintance. But pray, understand, if Sarah Burns had had the slightest idea that Hiram's course was premeditated, she would have cut his acquaintance instanter, for she was a girl of spirit, with a vein of her father's impetuosity of character. As it was, she imagined every reason for Hiram's reserve but the right one, and so was anxious he should do away with it. To this end she always returned his greeting in a manner calculated to give him confidence if he were diffident, and courage if he were timid. It seemed to little purpose. 'What can be the matter with the fellow?' she said to herself. She was piqued; she was puzzled; she felt annoyed.

Young ladies must excuse me for letting the public into some of their secrets, but as a faithful historian, I am forced to record precisely how Sarah Burns felt, as well as just what she did during the early part of her acquaintance with my hero—an acquaintance which led, as the reader may remember, to an engagement of marriage.

Meantime, Hiram began to gain in Mr. Burns's regard. He soon discovered how very capable his new clerk was. He certainly had never had any such person in his employment before. He found himself by degrees leaving many things for Hiram to attend to which he supposed no one but himself was capable of transacting. In such cases he was astonished with what facility Hiram performed the work; how apt and ready he was. What a comfort for a man with as much on his hands as Mr. Burns, to have such a person near him!

Yet, somehow, with all his readiness, and capability, and actual value to his employer, he was not a comfort to him. Despite all, Hiram's presence cast a shadow across the soul of Mr. Burns. While he approved of every thing he did, while he appreciated his extraordinary business abilities, while he could not but feel satisfied and pleased with his competency, his assiduity, and his untiring devotion, the quick, sensitive nature of this truthful, genuine man felt magnetically the malign force working in the brain of the subtle and calculating schemer.

It was remarked after a while about the village, that Hiram never visited. It was soon understood though, what a moral, pious youth he was. The Rev. Mr. Baker said he never conversed with a young person whose religious experience was so interesting, and who manifested such implicit trust in Providence.

Hiram was quick-witted enough to perceive that his situation with Mr. Burns was enough of itself to give him a prominent position in the village. The girls were crazy to be introduced to him, and one young lady who had hitherto held out against it, took a class in Sunday-school so as to make young Meeker's acquaintance at the meetings of the teachers. I have said Hiram never visited; I will tell you why. So long as he made no visits, it would not appear singular that he did not call at Mr. Burns's, otherwise his omission to do so would certainly attract attention. True, Hiram did not, perhaps, require an invitation to justify his going to see Miss Burns, but he resolved he would not go without one. He was careful, however, that not a soul should know he felt slighted, and this led him to spend his time at home, and devote himself to the widow Hawkins and her daughters. It is true he rapidly made the acquaintance of the whole church. Some very pleasant seasons he enjoyed with the young ladies at the various gatherings connected with it. He was rallied on his being so much of a recluse. Arch hints were conveyed that doubtless his home was specially agreeable. Was it Louisa or Charlotte? Both these young ladies would simper and look conscious when they were attacked on the subject; for both candidly believed they were liable to the innuendoes.

Thus matters went on during the first six months of Hiram's career at Burnsville. In that time he managed to make himself fully acquainted with Mr. Burns's affairs. In fact, he knew more about them with reference to value and availability than did Mr. Burns himself. For with the latter life possessed higher objects than the mere acquisition of property; while with Hiram it was the great earthly good, and not a thought or a fancy entered his brain which did not have reference to it. We can see how very useful such a person would be to Mr. Burns. Indeed, after a while he found himself listening to occasional suggestions which Hiram modestly put forth about this or that matter.

The liberal terms allowed to every one in his service was a matter of great annoyance to the confidential clerk. But here he touched a vital principle in Mr. Burns's course of action, which was, to regard all who served him as entitled to share according to their usefulness in the benefits of the business or enterprise in which they were engaged. The result was, that their wages or salaries were on a generous scale. A further result appeared in the pleasing aspect of the village, betokening a more diffused prosperity than is ordinarily observed.

Now, Hiram had early mastered the doctrine of making the many contribute to the success and fortunes of the few. It had already become one of his cardinal ideas. The reader will recollect that about the first thing which impressed our hero on coming to Burnsville, was the fact that Mr. Burns was not as rich as he ought to be considering the facilities he had to make money. Here was a point beyond Hiram Meeker's comprehension. Turn it whichever way he would, he failed to understand Mr. Burns in this. You see, Hiram could have no more idea of his employer's large and humanizing views than a blind man of colors. He could not attribute it to lack of sagacity, for he saw such abundant proofs as compelled his admiration and respect. It did not appear to grow out of any strict religious theories, for Mr. Burns held mere professions in such low esteem that he never spoke of an act or of a course as dictated or regulated by a sense of duty, so called. Since his wife died, he had tried to obey her dying injunction, 'to live right,' which he soon discovered had reference to the state of his heart, and thus to his motives, while his actions were such as would naturally flow from such a condition of the 'inner man.' Hiram, on the other hand, practiced on the philosophical principle of 'means to ends.' He had two ends in view, namely: To be SUCCESSFUL here, and to be SUCCESSFUL hereafter. He was determined to omit nothing which could further these ends. But since these (as we have before stated) had no reference to or connection with any thing except self, the reader will readily see how Hiram failed to understand Mr. Burns.

On other points there was no difficulty. And on his part, Mr. Burns could not help being struck with the clear, rapid, comprehensive business mind of the young man. Despite his prejudices, Hiram advanced daily in his confidence.

There was one matter, and that an important one, in Mr. Burns's affairs which was going wrong. I refer to the paper-mill. Mr. Burns had undertaken the enterprise in connection with an excellent man, an old friend and an extensive paper-dealer, residing in New-York. Each furnished half the capital for the erection of the mill and for the machinery, and they were, therefore, joint owners of the property. The season after it went into operation, his friend failed and felt himself obliged, without having time to consult Mr. Burns, to convey his portion of the mill to a Mr. Joslin—Mr. Elihu Joslin, one of the largest paper-merchants in the city, to whom he owed a heavy confidential debt. This Joslin was a very rich man and also very unscrupulous—such was his reputation with the trade. Not a few thought he was the means of forcing his brother-merchant into bankruptcy, having first lent him considerable sums of money on a pledge that it should be considered confidential in any event. In this way Elihu Joslin came to be owner of one half the paper-mill with Joel Burns. At the first interview every thing passed pleasantly between the two. Joslin was planning how to get the other in his power, and so finally possess the whole of the property. It was arranged, as was very proper, that Mr. Joslin should act as merchant for the mill, as his predecessor had done. He was to purchase and forward rags of which to manufacture paper, and should receive on consignment all paper produced at the mill. He sounded Mr. Burns on his own wants for money, and was disappointed to find him in no need whatever. On the rendering of the first accounts, Mr. Burns was much chagrined at the state of things which they discovered. True, every thing was correct on paper. Rags were entered at the market price; consignments when sold were properly credited. But there were charges for all sorts of commissions, for accepting, and paying, and accepting again, because paper remained unsold, and for a variety of things hitherto unheard of in ordinary dealings, and which the previous correspondent of Mr. Burns had never made, which were positively startling. Mr. Burns remonstrated by letter. It did not do the least good. He was dealing with a bold, daring, unscrupulous man, who, in the language of his acquaintances, always practiced the grab-game.

Mr. Burns finally made the best settlement of the account in his power, determining, before another six months should pass, that he would make a change of some sort. Unfortunately, he was at that time rather short of money, for he was expending considerable sums in other enterprises, and supposed the paper-mill could not fail of taking care of itself. So he continued to send forward to Mr. Joslin the consignments of paper, and to draw on him as usual. The next rendering of accounts showed affairs in a sad plight. Paper was very dull, so Joslin wrote. The lots sent forward were not as good as usual, (which was a falsehood,) so that much that had been sold was returned to him, (another lie,) and he had been forced to sell the most of it at auction to cover his advances, and the last cargo of rags still remained unpaid.

Mr. Burns was thunderstruck. He saw at once that he had fallen into the hands of a knave; but what was to be done? The idea of going to New-York to obtain satisfaction and thus encounter the scoundrel on his own ground was not pleasant; but what else could be done? He decided, after some reflection, as he could not just then leave the place, to send the superintendent of the mill to Mr. Joslin for the purpose of investigating the account, and all the circumstances connected with the business. He prepared a strong letter to Joslin, in which he spoke with great severity of the course pursued by that individual.

At this juncture Hiram was taken into the consultation. He begged Mr. Burns to write no letter, but to send any message he chose. 'The man will accomplish nothing,' he rather curtly added, 'still, it is well enough to send him.' Mr. Burns thought Hiram's suggestion a prudent one, so the head man of the paper-mill was dispatched with his instructions. He returned in three days very well satisfied with his journey. He had been received by Mr. Elihu Joslin with the utmost politeness. He expressed entire willingness to go over the account and correct any mistakes in it. Indeed, he had succeeded in convincing Mr. Joslin of one error of thirty-one dollars and twenty-six cents, which the latter at once made right. As to the main points at issue, however, Mr. Joslin could not alter the amount. There were the advances, here the sales, there the charges, here the credits. As to the commissions for buying, for selling, and guaranteeing, and for accepting, why, let him consult the very first houses in the city, the very first. He would leave it to Mr. Burns to select the house, and abide by its decision.

The man came back to Burnsville completely bamboozled. Hiram was present in Mr. Burns's office when this report was made. Mr. Burns received it in silence. He saw at once how his messenger had been over-reached.

When the latter left the office he turned toward Hiram and said:

'This is an unfortunate business.'

'I want to ask an especial favor of you,' said Hiram.

'What is it?'

'I want you to permit me to go to New-York and try what I can do.'

'Have you any plan?'

'I can not say I have. It would depend on circumstances.'

'Have you confidence in achieving something?'

'I have sufficient to induce me to wish to make the attempt.'

'Well, you shall go.'

'I would like to start to-morrow.'

'Very well; come to my house after tea and we will look over the papers.'

'I am much obliged to you, sir.'

Mr. Burns started to leave the office; he opened the door and was half out; then he turned.

'By the way, Meeker, come and take tea with me; we will then be ready to go at once into the accounts.'

'Thank you, sir.'

The door closed and Hiram was left alone. What a moment of triumph, as he regarded it!

'Invited to the house at last! I knew I should fetch it. Let us see … very good.... Now, young lady....'

The murmurings finally became inaudible as Hiram rose and walked up and down the room, stopping occasionally, and then starting rapidly on.

Mr. Burns proceeded homeward, quite unconscious of the excitement he had raised in Hiram's breast. Always considerate and just, it occurred to him since he had requested the young man to come to his house on business, thus breaking over his usual rule, that he ought to ask him to tea, and accordingly he did so. He announced the fact to Sarah as he entered the house. He was too much preöccupied to observe a slight flush rise to her cheeks as he spoke. She, however, only replied:

'Any thing unusual, father?'

'Yes; Stevens has returned from New-York, accomplishing nothing. I am going to send Meeker. We are to look over matters this evening.'

'Indeed, Do you think he can do better than Stevens?'

'Yes, I think so. Besides, he wants to go. He volunteered to go.'

'Is it possible?'

'Why not, my child?'

'I am sure I don't know; it seems strange.'

'Perhaps it does; but I confess I have a great deal of confidence that he will bring something about.'

That evening the appearance of the table was slightly changed—not enough to attract Mr. Burns's attention, but there was a greater display of silver than usual, and a nicer regard to arrangement. The same might be said of Sarah herself. The casual observer would not notice it, one of her own sex would.