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TREMLETT & TUCK were among the oldest and richest
merchants in the good city of New York; we have no positive
information as to the exact amount of their wealth, but
it is well known that they were looked upon by their cotemporaries
as the most respectable firm in the city. And to be so
distinguished in a city of merchants implied an eminence
in the commercial world which very few firms can ever hope
to reach; for mercantile greatness, unlike all other kinds of
greatness, can never be the effect of accident. A chance shot
may place the commander of an army, or the captain of a fleet
upon the very apex of Fame's pyramid, as a whirlwind may
bear the denizen of a barn yard into the regions of the bald
eagle; but it is only by great industry, self-denial, and integrity
of conduct that a merchant can become renowned.
And his renown, more hardly earned than the fame of a poet
or a warrior, rarely survives the payment of his last acceptance.
The world guards with tender solicitude the fame of the poor
author whom it lets starve, but it never wastes a thought upon
the great merchant whom it had pampered with wealth, when
his accounts with mankind are closed.

Mr. Hubbard Crocker Tremlett and Mr. Griswold Bacon
Tuck were old men. They had formed their copartnership
when they were both young and poor, with the prudent determination
of getting rich by doing a safe business; and they

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resolved in the beginning not to get married until they could
provide for a family without infringing upon their capital, a
time which, in their cautious estimation, had never arrived.
And we find them at the beginning of our history with large
fortunes and whitened locks, but without a being to cheer their
firesides or to care for their griefs or their pleasures, excepting
only a few relations on the part of Mr. Tuck, who watched
his declining years and his increasing wealth with lively interest,
as they hoped at his death to seize upon the property
which they had never lifted a finger towards heaping together.
This was a sad condition for old men, who need, like children,
the attentions which money cannot purchase. But their solitary
condition never disturbed the junior partner. He wanted
no surer or more affectionate friends than his certificate of
deposite, his bank scrip and his private ledger. Time gave
his warnings in vain to Mr. Tuck; he thought no more about
leaving the world than he did at twenty. The admonition of
death he would not heed. He knew, indeed, that other men
died for he had made several bad debts in consequence of the
untimely departure from this world of some of his debtors, and
his parents and his brothers and sisters had also been removed
by death; but he never seriously thought that He should
die; it was something so far removed from a regular business
transaction that the fact that he must die had never once occurred
to him. It was true that he insured his life, as he did
his ships and his houses, but in so doing he only conformed
to an established rule of his firm; never to let a risk remain
twenty-four hours uncovered. Therefore Mr. Tuck continued
to make close bargains and to extend his operations more
in the spirit of a man just entering upon life than like one just
about to leave it. In fact Mr. Tuck had found his residence
upon the earth in every respect so exactly conformable to his
notions of the agreeable that he had not the slightest wish to
change for a better one; he was one of those prudent conservatives
who make it a principle to let well enough alone.

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But notwithstanding that Mr. Tuck was every way so well
satisfied with the world, nothing annoyed him more than to be
reminded of the length of time that he had been in it, it grieved
his generous nature to be told of his blessings, and he destroyed
the family record which bore the precise date of his entrance
into the world, lest he should be reminded at unseasonable
moments of the liberal number of years which had been
allotted to him. And to such an extent did he carry this
amiable feeling that he disguised his venerable iron locks with
an auburn wig, which imparted a most juvenile aspect to his
head which was unequivocally and plumply disputed by his
double chin and an irrepressible protruberance of the lower
part of his waistcoat.

Mr. Tremlett differed materially from his partner; as much
in his appearance as in his feelings; the consciousness of a
mis-spent life, in spite of the wealth he had accumulated, oppressed
him sorely at times. He felt the want of a comforter.
Though early influence and long habit had caused him to
look with a certain satisfaction upon the mere acquisition of
money, yet he had a continual longing for something better;
he scarcely knew what. He could penetrate the sinister motives
of those who treated him with deferential respect and
their hollow hearted and loveless attentions were a thousand
times more disagreeable to him than an open and expressed
hatred would have been. He had applied himself so closely
to business that he had indulged no opportunities for increasing
the number of his friends, and although his name and
even his hand writing were familiarly known at the remote
ends of the earth, yet there was not one solitary being to whom
he could lay open his heart, nor one who looked up to him for
consolation and support. He had often confessed to himself
with a bitterness of feeling, that he might have been happier
if he had gained more friends and fewer dollars.

As he was pacing the flagged walk of the Battery one sultry
afternoon in midsummer, gazing listlessly upon the opposite

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shores of the bay, and musing on his solitary condition, he
felt something dragging at his coat-tail, and turning his head
quickly he perceived a little boy in the act of picking his
pocket of a new bandanna. He caught the young thief by the
arm, but as he struggled to escape he looked up into the old
gentleman's face with such a bright and merry countenance
that his captor felt more like clasping him in his arms than
punishing him for his depravity. The little rogue was not
more than ten years old and his countenance bespoke anything
but a wicked disposition. He was ragged and bare-footed;
but young and poverty stricken as he appeared, he
was already engaged in trade. He had a roll of penny papers
under his arm and a bundle of comic almanacs in his hand;
had he been an older or an ugly brat it is probable that Mr.
Tremlett would have let him escape to practise his thievish
propensities until some less kindly hand should have arrested
him, but his extreme youth and his childish beauty, made such
an impression upon the old merchant's feelings that he felt
unwilling to release him until he had done something for his
benefit. He therefore dragged the little fellow along, in spite
of his kicks and his cries, until he reached his own door,
which was in the immediate neighborhood, where he gave
him in charge to his housekeeper, with strict injunctions to
her not to let him escape; and then he returned to his counting
room to make arrangements for his next day's payments,
a practice which he had not neglected for more than thirty
years.

Mrs. Swazey, the old merchant's housekeeper, took the
young culprit, and after washing his face, gave him a monstrous
slice of bread and butter and locked him up in the back
parlor, where, as soon as he had devoured the unknown luxury,
he stretched his limbs upon the hearth-rug and fell into a profound
sleep. And there we will leave him to enjoy his innocent
slumbers, while we make an explanation to our reader to
prevent his falling into an error, to which his former readings
may have rendered him liable.

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