Part 26 (1/2)
CHAPTER XXIII.
MR. CALAMITY.
THERE was a fine, busy old gentleman that young Franklin met about the time that he opened his printing office, whose course it will be interesting to follow. Almost every young man sometimes meets a man of this type and character. He is certain to be found, as are any of the deterrent people in the Pilgrim's Progress. He is the man in whose eyes there is ruin lurking in every form of prosperity, who sees only the dark side of things--to whom, as we now say, everything ”is going to the dogs.”
We will call him Mr. Calamity, for that name represents what he had come to be as a prophet.[B]
One day young Franklin heard behind him the tap, tap, tap of a cane. It was a time when Philadelphia was beginning to rise, and promised unparalleled prosperity. The cane stopped with a heavy sound.
”What--what is this I hear?” said Mr. Calamity. ”You are starting a printing office, they say. I am sorry, sorry.”
”Why are you sorry, sir?” asked the young printer.
”Oh, you are a smart, capable young man, one who in the right place would succeed in life. I hate to see you throw yourself away.”
”But is not this the right place?”
”What, Philadelphia?”
”Yes, it is growing.”
”That shows how people are deceived. Haven't you any eyes?”
”Yes, yes.”
”But what were they made for? Can't you see what is coming?”
”A great prosperity, sir.”
”Oh, my young man, how you are deceived, and how feather-headed people have deceived you! Don't you know that this show of prosperity is all delusion; that people of level heads are calling in their bills, and that this is a hard time for creditors? The age of finery has gone, and the age of rags has come. Rags, sir, rags!”
”No, sir, no. I thought the people were getting out of debt. See how many people are building.”
”They are building to be ready for the crash--they do not know what else to do with their money; calamity is coming.”
”But how do you know, sir?”
”Know? It requires but little wit to know. I can feel it in my head. The times are not what they used to be. William Penn is dead, and none of his descendants are equal to him. Look at the Quakers, see how worldly they are becoming! Most people are living beyond their means! Property,”
he added, ”is all on the decline. In a few years you will see people moving away from here. You will hear that the Proprietors have failed.
Young man, don't go into business here. Let me tell you a secret, though I hate to do it, as your heart is bent upon setting up the printing business here; listen to me now--the whole province is going to fail.
Before us is bankruptcy. Do you hear it--that awful, awful word _bankruptcy_? The Governor himself, in my opinion, is on the way to bankruptcy now. The town will have to all go out of business, and then there will be bats and owls in the garrets, and the wharves will rot. I sometimes think that I will have to quit my country.”
”Do other folks think as you do?”
”Ay, ay, don't they? All that have any heads with eyes. Some folks have eyes for the present, some for the past, and some for the future. I am one of those that have eyes for the future. I expect to see gra.s.s growing in the streets before I die, and I shall not have to live long to pluck b.u.t.tercups under the King's Arms. I pity young chickens like you that will have no place to run to.”
”But, sir,” said young Franklin, ”suppose things do take another turn.