The Brass Bottle by F. Anstey (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📕

“This is my son, James, Mr. Temple,” said the squire, as the young gentleman came in to supper a little late.

“Indeed! How old are you, James?”

James took in at a glance the visitor's appearance, which did not give the impression of prosperity, and answered, with haughty condescension: “I am almost sixteen.”

“I congratulate you, Mr. Leech,” said Temple. “I am not blessed with a son. I would gladly give twenty thousand dollars could I have a son of your boy's age.”

James pricked up his ears. Temple spoke as if he had the twenty thousand dollars to give. He must be a man of property and so entitled to respect.

“What are you going to do with your boy?”

“I have not decided. Perhaps he may go to college.”

“I think I shall be a lawyer,” said James.

“A good profession. Some of our New York lawyers make great incomes.”

“Do you live in New York?” asked James.

“Yes; that is my residence. You must establish yourself in the city when you are ready to practice.”

“That is just what I want to do; I don't want to bury myself in a one-horse country town like this.”

“And be a one-horse lawyer,” suggested Temple, laughing. “Quite right, my young friend. In the city alone you will find a broad field of action.”

“That's just the way I think,” said James.

“I needn't say I would do all in my power to push you, and I flatter myself I have some influence.”

“You are very kind, Mr. Temple,” said Mrs. Leech; “but I hoped that James could still continue to live with us.”

“You can't expect me to live at home all my life,” said James, impatiently.

“Perhaps your husband may be persuaded himself to remove to the city,” said Temple. “I really think he stands in his own light in staying in a small place like this.”

“Just so,” said James, who would have liked nothing better than to live in New York. “There is no society here. I have no boys to associate with in my own position. Why won't you move to New York, father?”

“That requires consideration,” said Squire Leech.

“I should like to talk with you on that subject after supper,” said Temple. “Mrs. Leech, may I ask for another cup of tea?”

When supper was over Squire Leech led the way into the sitting room, and his guest followed. The vista of future wealth which his visitor had opened to him had not been without its effect and he began to make inquiries.

“I suppose,” he said, “there are ways of investing money to good advantage in New York?”

“Most certainly—many ways.”

“Real estate?”

“That may do, but it is too slow for me. I owned a house uptown. I sold for thirty thousand dollars. In six weeks I made twenty thousand more out of it.”

“Is it possible?” ejaculated the squire. “Twenty thousand, did you say?”

“To be sure. Of course that was extra good luck. You can't expect to do as well often, but there are always ways of turning over capital.”

“May I ask in what way you made this large sum?”

“To be sure. I speculated in Erie. It is all the time fluctuating. I became convinced that it was on the rise. I went in and the event justified my action.”

Temple spoke quietly, as if it were no great matter, after all. His host was very much impressed, and felt like a man who has discovered a gold mine. He had succeeded in saving up about two thousand dollars a year for some years; but what was that to twenty thousand dollars made in six weeks? Still, prudence led him to suggest: “But isn't there danger of losing heavily?”

“Not if you are acquainted with the stock market. It is the ignoramuses that get bit.”

“I know very little of the stock market myself,” confessed Squire Leech. “I own some bank stocks.”

“No money to be made in bank stocks.”

“They pay good dividends.”

“No doubt; but there is little or no variation in value. It's fluctuation that gives a man a chance.”

“I should be as likely to lose as gain, knowing as little as I do of the market.”

“True; but I should be happy to place my knowledge at your disposal. As an old friend and schoolmate I naturally feel interested in your prosperity.”

“You are very kind,” said the squire; “but wouldn't it be too much trouble?”

“Not at all. In fact, it's my business, and wouldn't inconvenience me in the least. By the way, how is your property invested?” asked Temple, carelessly.

“Mostly in real estate.”

“It must pay you very little.”

“That is true. After deducting taxes and repairs, there is very little left.”