Part 13 (1/2)

”Why as to that, old friend,” replied Fog with a good-natured laugh, at the same time laying his hand on Mr. Grant's shoulder, ”you can't call _that_ a fault. Every politician has a short memory--he'd be no politician without it. Mine's no shorter than the rest. Sir, let me tell you, the great secret of the success of the immutable, New-Light, Quodlibetarian Democracy, is in the shortness of the memory. Still, I would like to know what you mean by the remark.”

”I mean to say,” replied Mr. Grant, ”that when you and Nicodemus Handy were endeavoring to persuade me to take an interest in your bank, you didn't think it so undemocratic as you seem to do to-day.”

”It is impossible for me to remember what I said on the occasion to which you allude, sir,” returned Fog; ”but my principles have always been the same. I could not have gone against them, sir; morally impossible.”

”And I told you that your bank was a humbug,” continued Mr. Grant.

”Ay, ay,” rejoined Fog; ”that's the old song. You Whigs are monstrous good at prophesying after the result is known.”

”You admit, I suppose,” said Mr. Grant, ”that this Bank of Quodlibet has exploded?”

”Burst, sir, into a thousand tatters,” replied Fog.

”You admit that there is a large amount of paper money afloat?”

”A genuine Whig crop,” answered Fog: ”enough to make a stack as large as the largest in your barnyard.”

”You admit the derangement of values all over the country?”

”Yes, and of the people too, if you make it a point.”

”The failures of traders and of banks?”

”Yes.”

”This is reasonable, Mr. Fog. Now, you shall judge whether the Whigs prophesy _before_ or _after_ the result,” said Mr. Grant, as he thrust his hand into his skirt pocket and drew forth a pamphlet. ”I expected to meet you to-day, and I have brought you a doc.u.ment for your especial perusal. It is the speech of a Whig member of Congress, made in 1834, upon the Removal of the Deposits;--you will find the leaf turned down at page 32; and, as you are a good reader, I wish you would favor this company by reading it aloud, where you see it scored in the margin.”

”Not I,” replied Theodore; ”that's four years ago. The statute of limitation bars that.”

”He's afeard to read it,” said Abel Brawn to some five or six persons, who had collected around the steps during this conversation. ”Mr.

Grant's mighty particular with his doc.u.ments, and ain't to be shook off in an argument.”

”The., you ain't afeard, old fellow?” said Flan Sucker. ”Walk into him, The. Read it.”

”Give me the book,” said Fog, ”and let's see what it is. Speech by Horace Binney--eh? Who's he? I think I have heard the name. Well, for the sake of obliging a friend, I'll read.--_Conticuere omnes_--which means listen.” Fog then read as follows:--

”It is here that we find a pregnant source of the present agony--it is in the clearly avowed design to bring a second time upon this land the curse of an unregulated, uncontrolled State-Bank paper currency. We are again to see the drama which already, in the course of the present century, has pa.s.sed before us, and closed in ruin. If the project shall be successful----”

”What project?” inquired Fog.

”The destruction of the Bank of the United States, and the refusal to create another in its place,” answered Mr. Grant.

Theodore read on--

”If the project shall be successful, we are again to see these paper missiles shooting in every direction through the country--a derangement of all values,--a depreciated circulation--a suspension of specie payments;--then a further extension of the same detestable paper--a still greater depreciation--with failures of traders and failures of banks in its train--to arrive at last at the same point from which we departed in 1817.”

”A rank forgery,” said Theodore Fog, ”printed for the occasion.”

”That won't do,” replied Mr. Grant; ”I have been the owner of this pamphlet ever since 1834 myself.”

”Then Binney is a Dimmycrat,” said Sim Travers, ”and you are trying to pa.s.s him off on us for a Whig. Sound Dimmycratic doctrine and true prophecy.”