"What! sue the firm of Whistle & Sharp! Very well, sir, do, if you please."
"Yes-sir-ee—horse-cob! Mr. Follett, Fizzlet & Farindale," exclaimed Sharp, springing at one bound over the counter; "just sue us if—you—please; we'll pay the costs!" and Sharp whistled a tune with his eyes fixed steadily upon Farindale.
"Court sits next month," said Whistle.
"And we'll confess judgment," said Sharp.
"And the pay is sure," said Whistle.
"And no trouble hereafter," said Sharp.
Mr. Farindale began to think another sniping expedition was afoot. He was not a coward, if his cockneyism had lured him after snipe; but he was unable to determine what kind of people the Puddlefordians were. He had never met anything like them. So he sat in his chair, the account against Whistle & Sharp in his hand, tapping the floor with his right foot, trying to devise some way to secure his claim.
A thought struck him. "Pay it, and I will make a discount of twenty-five per cent.," said he.
"What's that you say?" indignantly exclaimed Sharp. "Do you mean to injure our firm?—the firm of Whistle & Sharp, who pay dollar for dollar! That ere, sir, is an insult. There's the door—walk! Sue! but you can't insult us on our own premises. That's the way to talk it, sir!" And Mr. Farindale did go, and he did sue, and the firm recovered a judgment against Whistle & Sharp for the sum of three hundred and twenty-four dollars and sixteen cents, and costs of suit.
It was no great matter to recover a judgment against a Puddlefordian; but it was something of a business to realize the damages. And that the reader may understand what kind of a prospect Follett, Fizzlet & Farindale had for their money, it is necessary to speak of the laws then in force for the collection of debts. The new states at that time were entirely "shingled over" with relief laws, which were passed to save the property of the pioneer from sacrifice. There was scarcely any money in Puddleford, and exchanges were made by barter. Personal property was valued by its relation to other property; eight yards of calico were worth so much wheat, corn, potash, cord-wood, or saw-logs. The merchant managed to turn his grain into high wines, or put it in some other shape that would bear transportation, and he was thus enabled to pay his debts. The farmer gave the mechanic an order on the merchant; the professional man took an order on the merchant; the day-laborer took an order on the merchant; everybody took an order on the merchant. The merchant was general paymaster; what he could not, or would not pay, remained unpaid; and he, in his turn, swept the farmer's crops, and took everything available; and the balance yet his due, and remaining unpaid, if any, was carried over against the farmer, and against the next crop. Thus the whole business of Puddleford ran through the merchant like wheat through a mill, and generally at a profit to the latter of from seventy-five to a hundred per cent.