THE MERCHANT'S CLERK.

9

of jobbers and money-lenders, who would buy anything under price, and advance money upon anything—whether rolls of carpets for the drawing-rooms of Belgravia, or tons of oakum to rub raw the fingers of paupers in the poorhouse, or of felons in Horsemonger Gaol.

The consequence was, that in the course of thirty years half the needy men in London-the men of shaky credit-men who, because they could not meet a bill to-day, felt all the more certain of doing so three months later-men tottering on the verge of insolvency, had run breathless into Catcham's office, too thankful to conciliate the managing clerk, Mr. Walford; and to borrow, on ample security (though the property of their creditors all the time), and at cent-per-cent interest, just as much money as would put off the evil hour, and give the speculation of the morrow a chance of retrieving the losses of the day.

After a while, when Thomas Walford was not at liberty to grant a loan from the money of his employers, he would yet see his way safely to lend his own; and it was not long ere his first one hundred pounds were turned into two.

The pleasant task of increasing riches-we intend no reflection on the honesty of the transaction-was the making of this managing

clerk. From that hour his whole soul was in the general merchant's business. Thomas was ever at his desk-Thomas never wanted a holiday-what though all London were on the road to Epsom, what cared Thomas? he had all the excitement of gambling, and in a far safer way, much nearer home. By parity of reasoning, hunting, shooting, fishing, and the like, even if accessible, had no charms for Thomas: no, he was bagging the finest of game as he sat at his desk; fishes of all kinds were coming to his net; till at last, so excited was this money-making man, that he could hardly allow himself time to eat, to say nothing of digesting his customary shillingsworth of meat at the famous à-la-mode beef-shop in the Old Baileyso eager was he to make, in the course of the afternoon, a pound or two premium, and one per cent interest for the loan of a twenty-pound note, as a timely accommodation for a week.

"There never was such a clerk as Thomas," said Mr. Catcham.

"We never had such a comfort," responded Mr. Keepham: "for, whether I stay and enjoy myself one day, two days, or even three days at a time, at my villa at Tooting, business goes on, as regular as clockwork. We are not missed in the least. Yes, Thomas is a perfect piece of

THE ROAD TO FORTUNE.

11

clock-work-a safe peg-a sure cog in our machinery."

In course of time, both these gentlemen began to feel that life would not be worth living for-and of this commodity they had but a small remainder-were it not for the thorough ease and security they enjoyed, and all owing to the untiring perseverance and steady-going qualities of Thomas Walford. And thus, many a time since the days of Whittington, it has come to pass, that when gentlemen, like Messrs. Catcham and Keepham, have found themselves growing old, some faithful servant at command, like Thomas Walford, has proved an actual necessity to their existence, and has, eventually, become junior partner, and ended with all the profits of the firm, and a handsome legacy in the way of capital, wherewith to work it.

No doubt, there is a certain pleasure in possession, how useless soever, while the toy is new; and, no doubt, there is a secret pleasure even in rounding one of the long-wished corners of life, though it lands us nowhere, but leaves us the same weary creatures as before. On this principle, Thomas Walford may be allowed to have enjoyed some months of satisfaction, as he contemplated his own name in staircase

No. 2, in St. Helen's Court, and was complimented, among the city men, on the high position he had achieved.

Still, as time passes on the gloss of novelty passes off, and the first flutter of excitement no longer beguiles the dull routine of daily life.

An old man once complained, that the customary trifles ceased to tickle or to interest; and, at length, the same mechanical drudgery in a sunless office, and the daily quest of money, money, money, without any taste to gratify, and without the soul to enjoy more than animal pleasures, and with little zest even for themthis formed the life of the rich Thomas Walford.

Such cases, though not uncommon, when plainly stated seem like an over-drawn satire upon humanity.-To think, that the laborious owners of untold wealth should find "their schemes may prosper, though themselves unblest ;" and that though God "gives them their hearts' desire, withal He sends leanness into their souls;" that is, when they live choking and clogging every inlet, and numbing each more generous feeling by the very means they take to gratify it!

Thomas Walford, now, after thirty years' hard work, was about fifty years of age, when one day, to the surprise of his clerks, his hat no

A HALT IN HIS GALLOP.

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more appeared, as if to mark the hour of business, upon the customary peg; and the strange news soon circulated that he had had a seizure, and was confined to his small house in Hart Street, Bloomsbury Square.

The truth was, that the long-fretted nerves had lost their tone; the heart had begun to palpitate, and a certain numbness in the fingers and dizziness in the head proclaimed that Nature meant to cry, Enough!

No ache or pain of a mere local kind would ever have proved enough to banish Thomas Walford from the daily haunts of so many years, and the one remaining idol of his heart; but when the very citadel of life itself is sapped, and the springs begin to fail, then the wrench is too strong to withstand, and the saying proves true, "Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life."

Before he was one year older, Thomas Walford had been forced to realize-to retire into a very healthy part of the county of Berks, where he soon invested the greater part of his gains in the Manor of Richcourt, to which his attention had been called by his sister's husband, General Colton.