the accommodation. And on being well assured that the note at the
bank had been taken up, and the signature cancelled, Fabens loaned him
another note for two hundred and fifty dollars.
In two months more, other elegant presents were made to Fanny and Mrs.
Fabens, and Fairbanks and Frisbie, together, as a token of their
particular and high esteem, presented Fabens a superb cane, of a limb
from the Liberty Tree, as they said, then waving on Boston Common;
richly mounted with silver, bearing his name, and the names of the
generous donors, on a silver eagle, set in the ivory head; with
appropriate inscriptions, and all polished like the smoothest glass.
"This gift," said Squire Fabens, so touched with emotion, he faltered
and hemmed in his speech, "this gift kindles a warm spot under my vest
here," laying his hand on his heart. "A gift always affects me, if it
is ever so small. And this, gentlemen, is _really_ a handsome gift
_indeed_. I have no words to express my thanks."
"Thanks would only burden us the more, as we have been the most
obliged," said Fairbanks, with his blandest bow, and meekest smile; and
other kind words were spoken, and confident assurances repeated; and
another note obtained for three hundred dollars. During that
delightful visit, in words employed with the most winning selection,
Fairbanks and Frisbie said so much to the Squire about his credit
abroad, about the favorable development of his head for a mercantile
life, about the advantages which he knew merchants always had over
farmers, about the pleasures of store-keeping, the opportunity of
visiting New York frequently, and making honorable acquaintances there
and elsewhere, and several other desirable objects, that when alone in
the field, they proposed to him to come with them into a grand
copartnership of the name of "Fairbanks, Frisbie and Fabens," and
assume all the business of Summerfield; he was actually taken with
agreeable surprise, his head growing giddy, as by some irresistible
charm; and he looked upon the farmer's life and labor, as the life and
labor of a drudge; glanced forth upon visions of opulence, honor and
ease; and hoped to put away, without too much sacrifice, his stony
acres, and enter upon that high and tempting course.
His mind wandered and returned, as between sleeping and waking. He
remembered, at last, what Julia would be likely to say, if informed
immediately, and in full, of the scheme. He remembered how d
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