Mr. Barlow's Country Home
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"What a lovely spot!" said Mr. Barlow, reining up his horses, and leaning forward to look at a beautiful country residence, which was shaded by fine old elms, and surrounded by choice shrubbery, and gardens filled with beautiful flowers, vines, and fruit trees.
"It is lovely, indeed!" returned his wife, who was riding out with him.
"I never look at this pleasant little place," resumed Mr. Barlow, "that I do not envy the owner its possession. I am sometimes half tempted to see him, and ask if he will not sell it. It is just the right distance from the city, and I could ride in to business every day."
"We could be very happy here, no doubt," said Mrs. Barlow.
"If we couldn't be happy here — we couldn't be happy anywhere. Look at that fine grassy lawn. What a grand place it would be for the children, shaded as it is by those noble sycamores and sturdy elms! I really must see if this place can be bought."
Mr. Barlow spoke to his horses, and the carriage moved on.
"Don't you think you would like the country, Sarah? I am sure it would be better for your health, as well as for that of the children."
"Oh yes, I would like it very well, especially if we could get a situation like that."
"I don't know of any other place that would tempt me into the country. Certainly I have not seen it yet. But if this one can be had at a price that I think I can afford to pay, I will strain to become its owner."
Mrs. Barlow was pleased at the thought of living on the delightful spot at which they had just been looking; but she did not urge her husband to make the purchase. If he felt ableto do so, she would have no objections; but she avoided saying as much in favor of it as she would have done, had she been sure that he could spare the money from his business.
On the next day Mr. Barlow made inquiries, and found that the owner of this beautiful country-residence did not live upon it. He was a merchant named Gregory, doing business in the city, and happened to be well known to Mr. Barlow, who immediately called upon him, and put the question whether he was disposed to sell the place. "I have not thought of doing so," was replied. "It is occupied by a good tenant, and yields me a fair interest."
"Have you any idea of living there yourself?"
"No. My wife doesn't like the country, and I am rather indifferent on the subject than otherwise. The whole of my thoughts are engaged in business, and I might, therefore, just as well be in the city. If I were on the place, I would neglect it."
"Then you have no positive objection to selling?"
"Why, no — not very positive; although I would rather not let it go out of my hands. My tenants are much attached to the place, and I would be unwilling to disturb them. The investment is good, and the income unfailing. The very day the rent is due, it is paid down in my counting-room."
"What value do you set upon the place?"
"It cost me eight thousand dollars. But it has been much improved since I bought it."
"Would you take ten thousand dollars for it?"
The merchant shook his head.
"Would twelve thousand tempt you?"
"I don't know. Perhaps it might. I could use that sum in business to considerable advantage. Still, I am not anxious."
"Will you take twelve thousand dollars?"
"I will give you an answer tomorrow."
"Very well. I will call around and see you tomorrow, and, in the mean time, decide whether I can pay that price."
Not long after Mr. Barlow left the store of Mr. Gregory, the tenant of the beautiful country-house came in with a quarter's rent. After the money had been counted and a receipt given, the merchant said,
"I don't know, Mr. Phillips, but I am half afraid I shall have to give you notice to leave before a great while."
"Why so?" asked the tenant, with a look of surprise.
"Mr. Barlow wants to buy it, and, I expect, will tempt me to sell by a very liberal offer. If he should do so, I may let it go, although, on your account, I will regret to do so."
"I am sorry," said Mr. Phillips. "I don't know what my wife will do. She fairly worships the place. She was in bad health and bad spirits for some years before we moved out there; but, since we have been in the country, she has been a different woman. She takes great delight in flowers and shrubbery — in fact, almost lives among them."
Mr. Gregory made no reply to this remark, but it caused him to feel strongly inclined to refuse any offer of Mr. Barlow's for the place.
When Mr. Phillips mentioned to his wife what their landlord had said, she could not refrain from tears.
"I've dreaded this all along," she said. "The place is too beautiful not to attract some envious eyes."
"It is not our own, and we cannot, therefore, expect to live here always. Sooner or later, we must inevitably be compelled to move. I was in hopes that it would not be for some years; but this now seems doubtful."
"Well, I will try my best to be content. If possible, I shall not again allow my mind to sink down as it did some years ago, unless my health should again fail, and then I may not be able to help it."
"Try earnestly to bear the change if it does come," said the husband. "We must not expect all to be sunshine and fair weather. Others do not find it so — and neither shall we. Since we have lived in this delightful spot, we have been very happy. Let us try to be happy, even in a less attractive place, if compelled to move; and let us find pleasure in the reflection that others enjoy this lovely home, if we do not."
"I don't think I shall derive much pleasure from that," said the wife.
"Why should you not? Is it not pleasant to know that others are happy?"
"Not happy at our expense."
"You must not think that. The comforts that are enjoyed by those who have more of this world's goods than we have, are not enjoyed at our expense. We do not own this place, and it is a great privilege that we have been permitted to call it our home. Let us be thankful for the favor we have received, and not murmur because we cannot have it continued to the end."
In this way, Mr. Phillips sought to strengthen the mind of his wife; but, in spite of all he could say, her spirits became depressed, and she could not rally herself.
Twelve thousand dollars was a good deal of money for Mr. Barlow to take out of his business. It was, in fact, one-half of his capital in trade. The thought of doing so made him feel serious. But his heart was set upon the beautiful country residence, and, to obtain it, he felt willing to make almost any sacrifice. On the next day, he called upon Mr. Gregory, who said that he had concluded to take twelve thousand dollars, if he were willing to pay it.
"On what terms?" asked Mr. Barlow.
"One-fourth cash, one-fourth in six months, one-fourth in twelve, and the remaining fourth in eighteen months; a full title to be given on the payment of the last note."
"I will give you an answer in three or four days," said Mr. Barlow.
"Very well. Take time to think about it," returned the owner.
Twelve thousand dollars in eighteen months was a large sum for Mr. Barlow to pay, and he felt that it was so. But to gain the lovely spot upon which he had set his heart, was worth an effort. In a few days he decided that he would make the purchase, possession to be given at the expiration of the tenant's year, which would be at the end of three months.
The cash payment was to be made as soon as the property could be handed over to him, which took place at the expected time. In order to make this payment, a bank loan of fifteen hundred dollars had to be obtained; the other fifteen hundred, withdrawn from his regular business, made his cash account show rather a meager balance.
It was a happy day for the family of Mr. Barlow when they took possession of their elegant country home. Before doing so, after many long debates on the subject, it was decided to retain their town-house, and live in the city during the winter season. Considerable furniture had, therefore, to be purchased for the country-house. The outlay, before they were fairly settled, was little short of a thousand dollars.
"Isn't it a lovely place! Oh! I shall be so happy here," said Mrs. Barlow, after they were settled in their new home.
Mr. Barlow, to whom this remark was made, did not reply. He was sitting by an open window, looking out upon the grassy lawn, where his children were playing. But he did not see them, nor hear the sound of their laughing voices. Nor did he notice what his wife had said about the beauty of the place. His mind was away to the city, and he was thinking about his business. The withdrawal of about twenty-five hundred dollars from his active capital had made everything "tight" with him. On the next day he had to pay bills amounting to two thousand dollars, and he was too busy in devising the ways and means by which this was to be done to see the beautiful objects by which he was surrounded, or to hear the pleasant sounds with which the air was ringing.
No response being made to Mrs. Barlow's words, she looked into her husband's absent face, and wondered of what he could be dreaming. But she did not break in upon his revery. The effort to raise the money he needed on the next day was successful; but it cost Mr. Barlow a good deal of anxiety, and sent him home in the evening, in a browner mood than usual. His wife met him with renewed expressions of the delight she felt in being the mistress of such a "paradise." He tried to enter into her feelings, but was not able. Beauties were all around him — but he did not see them. His mind was absorbed in business.
But in a few days he recovered himself, and was able to appreciate the loveliness with which nature and art had crowned their pleasant home. He had obtained a discount of two thousand dollars, and this made all right with him again.
Happily passed the days to the family of Mr. Barlow, until the frosts of approaching winter robbed the trees of their leafy garments, and made everything dreary, even around their beautiful country home. Then they returned to the city, to spend a few months, until spring should warm the earth into greenness.
Not long after this removal, the first note given for the purchase of the country-home fell due. Almost from the day on which Mr. Barlow went to the country, the thought of this note had created a sensation of uneasiness that more than counterbalanced the pleasure he derived from being the owner and occupier of the most charming place he had ever seen; and the nearer its due-day approached, the more did this uneasiness increase. His accommodations, made necessary by the first outlay on his new place of about four thousand dollars, had fallen due; and, to meet them, other discounts had to be obtained, and an amount of interest paid that he could not help feeling ought, in prudence, to have been avoided.
To meet this second payment, he had no resource but to borrow again. He could not borrow on a mortgage of his late purchase, for he was not yet in possession of a title-deed, and would not be until the payment of the last note given for the purchase. There was but one mode of raising the money, and that was by getting a friend to endorse for him, as he had done before. This was never a pleasant operation. But there was no help for it. The note must be lifted, and there was no other mode of doing it. The endorsement was obtained, or rather an exchange of notes was made, and three thousand dollars more of false capital raised and invested where it was completely locked up.
The difficulties of his position, began now to stare Mr. Barlow fully in the face. He saw that he had committed a mistake that threatened to ruin him. One half of the twelve thousand dollars was paid, but the money had all been borrowed, and that upon short accommodations which would have to be renewed and renewed again, he could not tell for how long, unless he greatly reduced all of his operations, in doing which there was danger of ruining his business.
Mr. Barlow was no longer the cheerful man he had been. Instead of giving life, as he had long done, to the evening circle — he usually sat silent and absent-minded, for his many difficulties had increased so fast upon him, that there was a constant pressure upon his feelings, which he could not throw off.
When the spring opened, preparations were made for moving into the country. But much of the enthusiasm felt when last preparing to leave the city, had subsided — especially with Mr. Barlow. The children were, of course, delighted. But Mrs. Barlow saw the change that had taken place in her husband, although he concealed the cause; and she could not feel delight, even in anticipation of a summer in their lovely villa.
Spring passed quickly into summer, and all was bright and beautiful; but, though nature said, with a thousand voices, "Be happy!" — there was not even peace in the heart of Mr. Barlow. He came and went even for days, without noticing or remarking upon the beautiful things with which he was surrounded. It was rarely that he saw them. His eyes were with his mind, and that was on his business, now becoming seriously embarrassed.
For a few months longer he struggled on, and then the second note fell due. To meet this, Mr. Barlow could see no way. It was as much as he could do to bear up under the weight of borrowed money and bank accommodations. It seemed to him that five hundred dollars added to his present difficulties would inevitably crush him. What, then, was he to do with three thousand?
A week before this note was to be paid, Mr. Barlow returned home from the city, with his mind more than usually oppressed. He had passed through a very severe day, in which his credit had well-near suffered dishonor. His last note was not obtained from the bank until five minutes before three o'clock. On arriving at home, he sat down by a window from which there was a charming prospect. His eye could not only range over the most beautiful portion of his own property, but there was a distant view of the city, with the river winding far below it. But, even if he saw all this, he did not feel its beauty. Soon after he had taken his place by the window, Mrs. Barlow came in, and drew a chair near him.
"Isn't this a lovely view?" she said.
"It is indeed beautiful," he replied, making a strong effort to hide his real feelings.
"The children are so happy! Dear little Mary said today — 'Mother, isn't father good to buy us such a nice place as this? It is full of flowers and green grass; and the birds hop about our feet, and are not afraid."
Mr. Barlow smiled and sighed at the same time.
"All here are happy, Edgar," said Mrs. Barlow, laying her hand affectionately upon his arm. "And you, who make others so happy, should be happy too."
A deeper sigh came up from the bosom of the husband.
"Tell me, Edgar, what is it that troubles you? There has been a weight upon your mind for months. Indeed, I have noticed a change in you ever since we left the city last summer. You make me the sharer of your joys, let me also share your gloomier feelings. It is my right, as well as my duty."
To this appeal, Mr. Barlow was silent. He could not make up his mind to reveal to his wife the embarrassed state of his affairs, and the cause which had produced them. She urged him more strongly, and then he said, in a gloomy voice —
"My business is dreadfully embarrassed."
At this, Mrs. Barlow turned pale.
"I have most earnestly desired to spare you the pain this revelation must occasion; but, as there is a crisis rapidly approaching, and you must know it very soon, this may be as good a time as any other for you to hear the painful truth."
"What has occasioned it?" Mrs. Barlow asked, in a tremulous voice.
"The purchase of this place."
"Then sell it again, and let us return to the city," was said in a quick, emphatic voice. "I would not stay here another week!"
"Can you be content to leave so beautiful a place?"
"Beautiful! It is beautiful to me no longer. No — no. We must return at once to the city, and let the place be sold. This should have been done long ago. The moment you felt it as an embarrassment, you ought to have given it up. Can any mere external thing, however attractive, compensate for peace of mind and dangers such as you say are threatening you? No — no!"
The decisive manner in which the subject was treated by his wife restored, to some extent, the disturbed balance of Mr. Barlow's mind. Still, the difficulties of his position were very great. It was one thing to determine to sell — and another thing to find a purchaser. Besides, he had agreed to pay several thousand dollars more for the place, than he could hope to obtain for it; and a serious loss was, therefore, inevitable. But, worse still, one of the notes given for the purchase must be paid in a week — or he would be ruined. There was no time to recoup, by a sale.
In this pressing dilemma, Mr. Barlow went to a friend who had endorsed pretty freely for him, stated frankly his difficulties, and asked him if he could not get him the money he needed until he could sell his country-home. The friend was a timid man, and became dreadfully alarmed. He censured Mr. Barlow strongly for buying the property, and charged him, by implication, with dishonorable conduct in getting his name upon his paper, when he knew that he was trembling on the brink of failure.
Distressed beyond measure, Mr. Barlow knew not which way to turn. Having met with such a rough reception, where he had fully expected sympathy and aid, he shrunk from an exposure of his necessities in any other quarter. And yet to stand still, was certain ruin. A day or two of anxiety and suffering passed, and then Mr. Barlow determined, as a last hope, to throw himself upon the mercy of Mr. Gregory. This was all he could do; if he failed — then he was a ruined man. With a trembling heart, he called at the store of the merchant, who received him with his usual kindness. He opened his business by saying —
"Mr. Gregory, when I purchased that property in the country from you, I undertook to do more than it has turned out I am able to do."
"Ah! I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Barlow," was replied. The manner of Mr. Gregory changed.
"I have paid you six thousand dollars on the purchase," resumed Mr. Barlow, "and, in doing so, I have withdrawn more capital from my business than it can spare. In consequence, all my operations are embarrassed, and I have been obliged to depend on bank loans, which are uncertain, and require the endorsements of friends."
"That is bad," Mr. Gregory sententiously remarked.
Barlow felt that there was little hope for him; but he continued —
"One of my notes to you falls due tomorrow" —
"Which you want extended?"
"Yes — until I can sell the place and pay it."
Mr. Gregory mused for some time before he replied. Then he said — " I think I had better release you from your bargain."
Barlow startled, and looked bewildered. He could hardly believe that he had heard aright.
"I have several times regretted having sold the place," continued Gregory, "but you seemed so desirous to have it, and made such a liberal offer, that I was tempted to meet your wishes. The change to my old tenant has been almost, if not quite, as unfortunate as to yourself."
"Indeed! How so?"
"His wife, who had become much attached to the place, left it with great reluctance, and has since fallen into ill health and low spirits. I saw Mr. Phillips only a few days ago, and he says that she gets worse instead of better. He has been trying to procure another situation in the country, but has not succeeded. If he could only get back again to the old place — he says he is sure both the health and spirits of his wife would be restored. She has a very delicate constitution, and is of a highly nervous temperament. For three years, at one time in her life, Phillips tells me that she was in an insane hospital, and he fears her present depressed state will end in another aberration of intellect. I pity both of them sincerely, and if you, as you say, wish to sell this property — I will release you from your contract, and pay you back the amount of purchase-money I have received."
"Then you will confer a double blessing," said Mr. Barlow, much affected. "You will save me from ruin, and, I trust, from a worse calamity those of whom you speak. So much for my envy of the good enjoyed by another. In my eagerness to possess this lovely place, I did not pause to think that others would be thrust out in order that I might obtain possession. I thought only of myself, and cared only for myself. But I have been punished; and it grieves me to think that others have likewise been involved in suffering."
About an hour after the termination of this interview between Mr. Gregory and Mr. Barlow, in which all the preliminaries of the business between them were settled, Mr. Phillips received a note from the former, offering him the country-home, which he had purchased back, as a residence. Phillips glanced over the note hurriedly, and then, with a few light bounds, was in the chamber of his wife. She was lying upon the bed, with her eyes closed as if asleep. He called her name, and she looked with a languid expression.
"Do you want to hear some good news?" he said, in a cheerful voice.
His wife merely looked at him; but neither changed countenance nor made any remark.
"Mr. Gregory has bought back our old country-home, and says we can have it again if we want it."
This caused Mrs. Phillips to rise up quickly, while a flush came into her wan face.
"What is that?" she asked, with marked interest in her voice.
Her husband handed her the note he had received. She read it over, and then said — "You will take it?"
"Oh yes! that is, if you wish to go there."
"I know it is weak and wrong in me, dear husband," she said, with much feeling, "to let so light a thing as the mere change of place depress my spirits as it has done. But I could not help it. The thought of getting back there again makes my heart feel as if the sun were once more shining upon it."
A year afterwards, Mr. Barlow and his wife rode past, for the first time since they had left it, the pleasant spot that had been for a brief season their home. All was now fair weather. The weight of a whole country-home having been thrown off of Mr. Barlow's business, his ship floated lightly again, and moved pleasantly along the surface of a smooth sea. As they drew near, they noticed a lady busily engaged among some flowers that were growing in rich masses upon a figure cut tastefully out of the center of a grass-plot. She turned her face towards them as they passed close to the gate which opened from the road upon a smoothly graveled walk. There was a glow of health upon her countenance, and a cheerful light in her eyes. She looked at them for a moment, and then resumed her employment.
"She is happy again, and I am thankful for it!" remarked Mr. Barlow. "I do not envy her."
"And we are happy, too — are we not?" said his wife; "as happy as we were before?"
"Yes, and wiser too, I trust. At least, I think that I am."
Ten years have passed, and Mr. Barlow has a very handsome country-home, within a few miles of the city. But he did not buy it until he was able to pay the cash down. He had, indeed, grown wiser.
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