PEOPLE WE MEET.

Timaru Herald, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2065, 14 June 1878, Page 5 (Supplement)

PEOPLE WE MEET.

(Written for the "Timaru Herald.") second series. Chapter VI. In the preceding chapter we Bpoke of the mean grasping look which sits uppn the faces of those who love money for its own sake. There are some people we meet (but very few) who are, m truth, benevolent lovers of their species, but by far the greater number of those who ought to be, are not. We could say a very great deal, and yea very muchly more than that even, upon this one great and foul blot upon the character of mankind m general ; but our remarks might be considered, even by some for which they are not intended, as offensive. There is, however, one class whom we intend to expatiate upon a little, and this is the grasping money-lending class. We don't mean merely the pawnbroker— for although people are quite ready to speak of ," my butcher," "my tailor," " my grocer,'' &c, we have ever found them unwilling, or perhaps, rather ashamed, to make mention of "my pawnbroker." These, nevertheless, reader, are a most useful class, and we have rarely had occasion ourselves to find much fault with them, except only sometimes, •when they have inflexibly refused to give us more upon " the article " than what the necessities of our case happened at the unfortunate time demanded, and they have ruthlessly told us " bishness is bishness." Then why should a man be ashamed to speak of "my pawnbroker." It is simply owing to one of those utterly artificial and false delicacies which are so prevalent amongst mankind, and why ? We are ready with an emphatic answer to the query, and it is, that the generality of people who would endeavor to make you believe that they never, through the course of their lives, required a temporary loan, whether m shillings or m pounds, are simply liars ! And, which do you prefer ? The man who, m such a strait, goes to "my pawnbroker," makes a matter of business of his very difficulties, pays what is allowed by law for tho accommodation, and who, m the event of being unable to return the loan, can lay the comforting reflection to his conscience that, at all events, nobody is the loser, unless it is himself ; or, the man who will jj;o to some friend, obtain what lie requires, and forget to lvtu.n it when he is actually we'll able to do so ? Poverty, aecoiding to the. circi' instances which brought it on may be a disgrace, or a pitiable misfortune, or even an honor ; but it is not a crime, as too many people whom we have met seem to think. But, by the bye, before we leave the subject of pawnbrokers, we often used to wonder what the three balls outside a pawnbroker's shop indicated, until one day (of course unsolicited) one of oiir many loquacious friends informed us that It waa a silent but expressive reminder to the customers m reference to their things left there m pledge, that it was " two io one whether they ever got them back again !" And, alas, perhaps it is so. However, speaking of signs, the peculiarity of some of the Jewish and French signs seems to be an affected solemnity — a use of big or fine words sometimes express very mean ideas. There Ytta a sign of this description which puzzled us for several days m Paris. We could make nothing of it. We observed that it was usually painted on a lantern hanging over the entrance to common looking staircases. ■ The words were " Mont-dc-Piete," which literally signifies" the mountain of p'ety. It was clear, however, that this could not. bo tho meaning of the words ; neither was it likely, considering the situation and appearance of the places, that they referred to any establishment of a religious nature. As our pocket reference was silent upon the subject, we at last took the liberty of inquiring for a different translation to the literal one, fiom a gentli-man who sat beside us at the table d'hote, an Englishman belonging to the higher order of society, who had chosen to reside for Beveral years m Paris, and who besides being most affable and agreeable m his manners, waa exceedingly communicative regarding Parisian manners and customs, and therefore we could not have applied to a more promising source of information. " Why, my dear sir," said he, m answer to our interrogatory, " Mont-de-PittS, although a high enough sounding phrase, means neither more nor less than pawnbroking establishment. It has somehow got the idea of piety attached to it from the profits being devoted to the benefit of certain hospitals !" We laid down our knife and fork, and endeavored to reflect with calmness upon this astounding piece of information. "We gazed upon our informant, and we thought, well ! either there is something equally deceiving as to the literal and real meaning of " hospital " as there is m regard to Mont-de-pieU, or that you, my friend, sadly lack the ability to discriminate between truth and ■ fiction ; or, again, at last we have come to a land ■where every man must indeed be an enthusiastically benevolent lover of his species, and where the pawnbrokers are the noblest, the tenderest, and the best pawnbrokers who eve* " walked m shoe leather." Here was, at last, " true religion," and Tjenevolence of the loftiest description. "What would not Diogenes himself have given to be here? But he never had such pawnbrokers to deal with. There are, however, a great many " twp-to-ones" m other matters of life, besides pawnbrokers, m this "vale of tears," and there are many classes of business people even m Timaru who are a great deal more rapacious m their " business " dealings. We have known of some, which involved the terms "bills of sale," "mortgage," " Bond ," Bill," &c. We have had some experiences about " Bill," (by which we don't mean tradesmen's accounts.) but Bills— Bills of the shent per shent type, which said experiences have not only greatly disturbed the regular and proper action of our liver, but have ao utterly shocked our nervous and general system as to have amounted to a human earthquake. The latter sentence is a fictional paradox, or a paradoxical fiction, or some other "tion," or something else ; but we are no scholar, so never mind. We will proceed. It is now some time since that, owing to circumstances over which we had no control, we found it necessary to apply to the money-lend-ing fraternity for the assistance needed. After deciding as to whom it should be, and procuring the company of a friend, we were ultimately ushered into the "presence. " Of all the knavish countenances we ever set eyes on, this man's was about the worst. He had a large square head, the shape of a quartern loaf, and garnished with immense ears. His bristly black hair, just sprinkled with grey, was cropped close to his head. He had no whiskers, and his broad, heavy face was the color of a ripe tomato. His eyes were Tere small indeed, unusually twinkling, and lighted up with something which, m a better kind of man, would have been human, but m him was eager rascality— , hungry for new victims. He wsa five

feet nine or ten m height, broad ) shouldered, and was dressed m full ] black, looking, on the whole, like a db- 1 satisfied burglar m process of transforms- ] tion into a dishonest butler, with a character for piety from his last place. He opened the inner door, and showed us into his private room ; and heavens, what a room it was, filthily dirty, disgustingly close, and strewn with such a miscellany of apparent rubbish that it had more the appearance of a rag and bone shop, than of a room where even such a man as Mr Slitherem might be expected to do business. Rows of boots, some pretty new, stood along the floor. Heaps of things of various kinds lay scattered about the chairs; and bottles of wine or liquor were ranged m all available corners. A number of indescribale articl es, which Mr Slitherem called varetoo, and half a dozen books, completed the money-lender's interior. " Now, gentlemen," said he, m a loud pompous voice, with a manner indescribably impudent, "what do you want with me ? Money ? O — oh, money ! And pray what may gentlemen like you want to borrow money for ?" We told him that was our affair, not his. But he was not to be put down. "Look here, young gentlemen, " said he, taking up the life of Fowell Buxton, one of the few books which lay upon the shelves, part of the plunder, no doubt, of some victim whom he had lately sold up. " Look here, here was a man — imitate him young men — that is the way to rise m life. Money ! no ; I should blame myself if I encouraged such applications," said the beast with an air- of hypocritical severity that was insufferable ; and without stopping to hear more we walked out of his office. What were his motives for treating us m this manner we could never yet understand, unless he made too sure that we. should call again, and adopted that method of cowing us into submission of hia terms. He made a mistake. The next man we went to was a rare specimen of his order. His name was Grindem — Winkey Grindem ho was always called, and somehow the name seemed to fit him. He was a perfect cormorant m the way of interest and " costs "— insatiable, inexorable, impenitent-. But as long as you came up smiling, iin-l took your punishment like a m:\ii, " Wink y " was good natured after a fashion. He used to to declare that hts would r»'h-:r tend £5 to a cotter with a stall "as couldn't run away," than £10U0 to a gentleman who was "flying ii'-out hevery where, so as you never know'd where to have him." We think, however, that " Winkey," over and above the additional security which he supposed to attach to the fixity of his debtor, enjoyed his propinquity for its own sake ; liked to meet him m the streets, and watch his nervous looks as he approached ; liked to have you come often to arrange the "hinterest," as "Winkey" called it. " Why didn't he come to me," he would exclaim m almost piteous tones, when anyone strove to bespeak his forbearance towards a defaulting customer. "Why didn't he come and see me, Mr — ? I've never set heyes on him this six months. You tell him to come 'ere. I won't do nothing." He got more out of his men as a general rule, by not arresting them. He acted on the principle that to do that was to kill the goose ; and indeed such a master was he of the whole art of " squeezing," that by the time his bondsmen grew reckless they were generally quite dry, so that Winkey could avoid the odium of taking them, without distressing himself at the thought that he had forfeited a farthing by his clemency. He preferred to lent £20 to £50, and £10 to £20. The reason is obvious ; he could charge two pounds a month for ten pounds without startling his victims, but tea pounds a month for fifty pounds, though precisely the same rate of interest, would have frightened them most effectually.