THE LITTLE BIT OF TAPE.
BY RICHARD JOHNS, ESQ.
"Slow and sure" has been the motto of my family from generation to generation, and wonderfully has it prospered by acting on this maxim; the misfortunes of the house of Slowby having apparently been reserved for the only active and enterprising individual ever born unto that name. Reader, I am that unhappy man! Waiters upon Fortune, plentifully have all my progenitors fared from the dainties of the good lady's table; while I, in my anxiety to share in the feast, have generally upset the board, and lost every thing in the scramble.
Sir James Slowby, my worthy father, was a younger son, and his portion had been little more than the blessing of a parent, conveyed in the form of words always used in our family—"Bless thee, my son; be slow and sure, and you will be sure to get on." He did get on; for, was he not one of the feelers of that huge polypus in society, the Slowbys? Ways of making money, which other men had diligently sought in vain, discovered themselves to him; places were conferred on him, and legacies left him, for no one reason that could be discovered, except that he seemed indifferent to such matters, and latterly became so wealthy, that he did not require them. He was slow in marrying; not entering the "holy state" till he was forty. He did not wed a fortune: no! he rather preferred a woman of good expectations; and these were, of course, realised,—the money came "slow and sure." He lived to a good old age; but death, though slow, was sure also; and he at length died, leaving two sons: on one he bestowed all his wealth; the other, my luckless self, he left a beggarly dependent on an elder brother's bounty. The fact of the matter was, I had too much vivacity to please so true a Slowby as my father; while James was a man after his own heart: and, perhaps I had circulated a little too much of the old gentleman's money in what he strangely called my "loose kind of life;" but which I only denominated "living fast." He might have confessed that I was not altogether selfish in my pleasures. I often made my father most magnificent presents; and though, perhaps, he ultimately had to pay the bills, the generosity of the intention was the same.
The following letters were written just before our worthy parent's death, by his two sons. James was at the paternal mansion in —— Square, I at a little road-side public-house about four and twenty miles from Newmarket. I must premise that I was thus far on my way to London, in answer to my brother's summons; but, at "Ugley" over the post-chaise went—a wheel was broken, and so was my left arm. The post-boys swore it was my fault, because I had not patience to have the wheels properly greased; and I, because it was my misfortune to be obliged to delay my journey till the mischief was repaired—I mean as regards the WEAL of my arm, not the wheel of the chaise,—for, had I been able, I would rather have ridden one of the post-horses to the next stage, than not have pursued my route.
"—— Square.
"My dear brother,—Your father requests that you will take an early opportunity of coming to town, as he is supposed to be on his death-bed. His will only awaits your arrival to receive signature. Should you solemnly promise not to dissipate money as you have heretofore done, he will leave you a gentlemanly competence. Dr. Druget is of opinion that our father may live till Sunday next; so, if you are here at any period before that date, you will be in sufficient time for the above-mentioned purpose.
"Your affectionate brother, James Slowby."