SPECULATION IN "TOWN LOTS."

Southland Times, Volume I, Issue 44, 10 April 1863, Page 5 (Supplement)

SPECULATION IN "TOWN LOTS."

How much real comfort every one might enjoy if be would be contented with the Win which heaven has cast him, and much trouble would be avoided if people would only " let well alone ! " A moderate independence, quietly and houestl/ procured, is certainly every way preferable, even to immense possessions achieved by the wear and tear of mind and body so necessary to procure them. Yet there are very few individuals, let them be doing ever so well in the world, who are not always straining every nerve to do better, and this is o°ne of the many causes why failures in business so frequently occui among us. The present generation seem unwilling to " realise" by slow and sure degrees, but choose rather to set their whole hopes upon a single cast, which either makes or mars them for ever! Gentle reader, do you remember Monsieur Poopoo! He used to keep a small toy store in Chathamstreet, near the corner of Pearl-street. You must recollect him, of course. He lived there for many years, and was one of the most polite aad accommodating of shop-keepers. When a juvenile, you have bought tops and marbles from him a thousand times. To be sure you have; and seen his vinegar visage lighted up with a smile as you paid him the coppers; and you have laughed at his little queue and his di.r>ity breeches, and all the other oddities that made up the every day apparel of my little Frenchman. Ah, I perceive you recllect him now- Well, then, there lived Monsieur Poopoo ever since he came from " dear, delightful Paris,'' as he used to call the city of his nativity—there he took in the premises for his kickshaws—there he- laid aside five thousand dollars against a rainy day —there he was as happy as a lark—and there, in all human probability, he would have been to this very day, a respected and substantial citizen, had he been willing to "let well alone.'' But Monsieur Poopoa had heard strange stories about the prodigious rise in real estate, and having understood that most of his neighbors had become suddenly rich by speculating in lots, he instantly became dissatisfied with his own lot, forthwith determined to shut up shop, turn every thing into cash, and set about making money in earnest. No sooner said than done; and our quondam storekeeper a few days afterwards attended a most extensive sale of real estate, at the Merchants' Exchange. There was the auctioneer, with his beautiful and inviting lithographic maps —all the lots as smooth, and square, and enticingly laid out as possible—and there were the speculators —and there, in the midst of them, stood Monsieur Poopoo. "Here they are, gentlemen, 1' said he of the hammer; " the most valuable lots ever offered for sale. Give me a bid for them V "One hundred each," said a bystander. " One hundred !" said the auctioneer; "scarcely enough to pay for the maps. One hundred—going — fifty—gone! Mr H., they are yours. A noble purchase. You'll sell those same lots in less than a fortnight for fifty thousand dollars profit! 1' Monsieur Poopoo pricked up his hears at this, and was lost in astonishment. This was a much easier way of accumulating riches than selling toys in Chathamstreet, and he determined to buy, and mend his fortune without delay. The auctioneer proceeded in his sale. Other parcels were offered and disposed of, and all the purchasers were promised immense advantages for their enterprise. At last came a more valuable parcel than all the rest. The company pressed around the stand, and Monsievr Poopoo did the same. " I now offer you, gentlemen, these magnificent lots delightfully situated on hon\i Island, with valuable water privileges. Property in fee —title unexceptionable — terms of sale, cash—deeds ready for delivery immediately after the sale. How much for them ? Give them a start at something. How much? " The auctioneer looked around ; there were no bidders. At last he caught the eye of Monsieur Poopoo. " Did you say one hundred, sir? Beautifullots—valuable water privileges—shall I say one hundred for you ? " " Oui, monsieur ; 1 will give you von hundred dollar a piece, for the lot vid de valuable vatare privalege ; e'est ca." Only one hundred a-piece for these sixty valuable lots — only one hundred —going —going —going —gone! " Monsieur Poopoo, was the fortunate possessor. The auctioneer congratulated him —tha *ale plosetj

— and the company dispersed. "Pardonnezmoi, monsieur,*' said Poqpoo, as the auctioneer descended the pedestal, " you shall excusez motif I shall go to votre bureau, your counting house, ver quick to make every ting sure wid respec to de lot vid de valuable vatare privalege. Von leetle bird in de hand be vorth two in de trep, c'estvrai— eh? " " Certainly, sir/ #< Vel, den, allons.'' And the gentlemen repaired to the counting house, where the 6,ooo dolilars were paid, and the deeds of the property delivered. Monsieur Poopoo put these carefully! In his pocket, and, as he was about taking his leave, the auctioneer made him a present of the lithographic outline of the lots, which was a very liberal thing on his part, considering the map was a beautiful specimen of that glorious art. Poopoo could not admire it sufficiently. There were his sixty lots as unifon a as possible, and his little grey eyes sparkled like diamonds as they wandered from one end of the spacious sheet to the other. Poopoo's heart was as light as a feather, and he snapped his fingers in the very wantonness of joy as he repaired to Delmonico's, and ordered the first good French dinner that had gladdened his senses since, his arrival in America. After having discussed his repast, and washed it down with a bottle of choice old claret, he resolved upon a visit to Long Island to view his purchase. He consequently immediately hired a horse and gig, crossed the Brooklyn Ferry, and drove along the margin of the river to the Wallabout, the locution in question. Our friend, however, was not a little perplexed to find his property. Everything on the map was as fair and even as possible, while all the giounds about him were as undulated as they coul 1 well be imagined, and there was an arm of the East river running quite into the land which seemed to have no business there. This puzzled the Frenchman exceedingly; and being a stranger in those parts, he called to a farmer in an adjacent field—" A/o/i ami, are you acquaint vid di 3 part of de country — oh ?" " Yes, T was born here, and know every inch of it." " Ah, e'est bien, dat vill do," and the Frenchman got out of the gig, j tied the horse, anil produced his lithographies map. "Den maybe you vill have de kindness to show me de sixty lot vich I have bought, vid de valuable vatare privalege ?" The farmer glanced his eye over the paper. " Yes sir, with pleasure ; if you will be good enough to get into my boat I will row you out to them !" " Vat you say, sare." •'My friend," said the farmer, " this section of Long Island has recently been bought up by the speculators of New York, and laid out for a great city ; but the principal street is only visible at low tide. When this part of the East nwr is filled up it will be just there. Your lots, as you will perceive, are beyond it, and are now all under water." At first the Frenchman was incredulous. He could not believ.; his senses. As the facts, however, gradually broke upon him he looked at the sky — the river — ■ the farmer — and then he turned away ami gazed at them all over again. There was his ground sure enough ; but then it could not be perceive'!, for there was a river flowing over it ! He drew a box from his waistcoat pocket, opened it with an emphatic knock upon the lU, took a pinch of snuff, arid restored it to his waistcoat pocket as before. Poopoo was evidently in trouble, having " thoughts which often lie too deep for tears;" and as his grief was also too big for words, he untied his horse, jumped into the gig, and returned to the auctioneer in all pos.-iMe haste. It was near night when he arrive.! afc the auction room — his horse in a foam and himself in a fury. The auctioneer was leaning back in a chair, with his legs stuck out of a low window, quietly smoking a cigar after the labors of the day, and humming the music of the last new opera. " Monsieur, I have much plaisir to find you tha, vous, at home." '• Ah, Poopoo ! glad to see you. Take a seat, old boy." " But I shall not take de seat, sare." " No — why, what's the matter?" ''Oh, beaucoup de matter. I have been to see de gran, lot dat you sell me to-day." " Well sir, I hope you like your purchase ?'' " No, monsieur, but I do not like it at all." " I'm sorry for it ; but there is no ground for your complaint." "No sare ; dere is no ground at all— de ground is all vatare." "You joke." " I do not joke. I nevare joke ;je nenlends pas raillerie. Bare, vmdez vous have de kindness to give me back de money dat 1 pay !'' " Certainly not." " Den vill you be so good as to take de top of de East Kiver off de top of my lot?" "That's your business, sir, not mine." "Den I make von mauvais affaire — von grand mistake!" " I hope not. I don't think you have thrown away your mo:iey in tho land." "No sare ; but I have trow it away in de rivare /" "That's not my fault." "Yes sare, but it is your fault. You're von ver gran rascal to swindle me out of del' argent." " Hollo, old Poo-ioo, you orow personal ; and if you can't keep a civil tongue in your head, you must go out of my office." " Vure shall Igo to, eh ?" "To the devil for aught I care, you foolish old Frenchman! 1 ' said the auctioneer, waxing warm. " But sare, i I will not go to de devil to oblige you !" j replied the Frenchman, waxing warmer. " You cheat me out of all de dollar ' hat I make in Chatham-street; but I will not go to de devil for all that. I vill go and drown myself, tout de sttiie, right away. 3 ' " You could' nt make a better use"of your water privileges, old boy.' "Ah, misericorde Ije suis abime. I am ruin ! lam done up ! lam break u/> into ten tousan leetle pieces ! lam von lame duck, and I shall vuddle acrossde gn\n ocean for Paris, vish is de only valuable' vatare privilege that is left me a present I" Poor Poopoo was as good as his word. He sailed in the next packet, and arrived in Paris almost as penniless as the day he left it Should any one feel disposed to doubt the veritable circumstances here recorded, let him cross the East Hirer to

the Wallabout, anA farmer J— — will row htm out to the very place where the poor Frenchman's lots still remain under water!