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Updated: May 20, 2025
"My dear Jowlson, you must not give way in this manner. You must control your feelings. Have we not always been taught," said Mr. Gray, as a clerk brought in a letter, the seal of which the merchant broke leisurely, and then skimmed the contents as he continued, "that riches have wings and my God!" he ejaculated, springing up, "I am a ruined man!" So he was. Every thing was gone.
Those pretty riches that chirped and sang to him as he fed them; they had all spread their bright plumage, like a troop of singing birds have we not always been taught that they might, Mr. Jowlson? and had flown away. To undertake business anew was out of the question. His friends said, "Poor Gray! what shall be done?" The friendly merchants pondered and pondered.
"I have it!" cried Jowlson, one day, rushing in, out of breath, among several gentlemen who were holding a council about their friend Gray that is, who had met in a bank parlor, and were talking about his prospects "I have it! and how dull we all are! What shall he do? Why, keep a school, to be sure! a school! a school! Take children, and be a parent to them!"
The worthy Jowlson, who had meanwhile engaged as book-keeper upon a salary of seven hundred dollars a year one of the rare prizes was busy enough for his friend, consulting, wondering, planning. Mr.
There came a sudden crash one of the commercial earthquakes that shake fortunes to their foundations and scatter failure on every side. One day he sat in his office consoling his friend Jowlson, who had been ruined. Mr. Jowlson was terribly agitated credit gone fortune wrecked no prospects "O wife and children!" he cried, rocking to and fro as he sat.
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