The Gentle Grafter(轻柔的嫁接)

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The Gentle Grafter

by O. Henry

The Gentle Grafter

THE OCTOPUS MAROONED

"A trust is its weakest point," said Jeff Peters.

"That," said I, "sounds like one of those unintelligible remarks such as,

'Why is a policeman?'"

"It is not," said Jeff. "There are no relations between a trust and a

policeman. My remark was an epitogram--an axis--a kind of mulct'em in

parvo. What it means is that a trust is like an egg, and it is not like an egg.

If you want to break an egg you have to do it from the outside. The only

way to break up a trust is from the inside. Keep sitting on it until it hatches.

Look at the brood of young colleges and libraries that's chirping and

peeping all over the country. Yes, sir, every trust bears in its own bosom

the seeds of its destruction like a rooster that crows near a Georgia colored

Methodist camp meeting, or a Republican announcing himself a candidate

for governor of Texas."

I asked Jeff, jestingly, if he had ever, during his checkered, plaided,

mottled, pied and dappled career, conducted an enterprise of the class to

which the word "trust" had been applied. Somewhat to my surprise he

acknowledged the corner.

"Once," said he. "And the state seal of New Jersey never bit into a

charter that opened up a solider and safer piece of legitimate octopusing.

We had everything in our favor--wind, water, police, nerve, and a clean

monopoly of an article indispensable to the public. There wasn't a trust

buster on the globe that could have found a weak spot in our scheme. It

made Rockefeller's little kerosene speculation look like a bucket shop. But

we lost out."

"Some unforeseen opposition came up, I suppose," I said.

"No, sir, it was just as I said. We were self-curbed. It was a case of

auto-suppression. There was a rift within the loot, as Albert Tennyson

says.

"You remember I told you that me and Andy Tucker was partners for

some years. That man was the most talented conniver at stratagems I ever

saw. Whenever he saw a dollar in another man's hands he took it as a

The Gentle Grafter

personal grudge, if he couldn't take it any other way. Andy was educated,

too, besides having a lot of useful information. He had acquired a big

amount of experience out of books, and could talk for hours on any subject

connected with ideas and discourse. He had been in every line of graft

from lecturing on Palestine with a lot of magic lantern pictures of the

annual Custom-made Clothiers' Association convention at Atlantic City to

flooding Connecticut with bogus wood alcohol distilled from nutmegs.

"One Spring me and Andy had been over in Mexico on a flying trip

during which a Philadelphia capitalist had paid us $2,500 for a half

interest in a silver mine in Chihuahua. Oh, yes, the mine was all right. The

other half interest must have been worth two or three thousand. I often

wondered who owned that mine.

"In coming back to the United States me and Andy stubbed our toes

against a little town in Texas on the bank of the Rio Grande. The name of

it was Bird City; but it wasn't. The town had about 2,000 inhabitants,

mostly men. I figured out that their principal means of existence was in

living close to tall chaparral. Some of 'em were stockmen and some

gamblers and some horse peculators and plenty were in the smuggling line.

Me and Andy put up at a hotel that was built like something between a

roof-garden and a sectional bookcase. It began to rain the day we got there.

As the saying is, Juniper Aquarius was sure turning on the water plugs on

Mount Amphibious.

"Now, there were three saloons in Bird City, though neither Andy nor

me drank. But we could see the townspeople making a triangular

procession from one to another all day and half the night. Everybody

seemed to know what to do with as much money as they had.

"The third day of the rain it slacked up awhile in the afternoon, so me

and Andy walked out to the edge of town to view the mudscape. Bird City

was built between the Rio Grande and a deep wide arroyo that used to be

the old bed of the river. The bank between the stream and its old bed was

cracking and giving away, when we saw it, on account of the high water

caused by the rain. Andy looks at it a long time. That man's intellects was

never idle. And then he unfolds to me a instantaneous idea that has

occurred to him. Right there was organized a trust; and we walked back

The Gentle Grafter

into town and put it on the market.

"First we went to the main saloon in Bird City, called the Blue Snake,

and bought it. It cost us $1,200. And then we dropped in, casual, at

Mexican Joe's place, referred to the rain, and bought him out for $500. The

other one came easy at $400.

"The next morning Bird City woke up and found itself an island. The

river had busted through its old channel, and the town was surrounded by

roaring torrents. The rain was still raining, and there was heavy clouds in

the northwest that presaged about six more mean annual rainfalls during

the next two weeks. But the worst was yet to come.

"Bird City hopped out of its nest, waggled its pin feathers and strolled

out for its matutinal toot. Lo! Mexican Joe's place was closed and likewise

the other little 'dobe life saving station. So, naturally the body politic emits

thirsty ejaculations of surprise and ports hellum for the Blue Snake. And

what does it find there?

"Behind one end of the bar sits Jefferson Peters, octopus, with a

sixshooter on each side of him, ready to make change or corpses as the

case may be. There are three bartenders; and on the wall is a ten foot sign

reading: 'All Drinks One Dollar.' Andy sits on the safe in his neat blue suit

and gold-banded cigar, on the lookout for emergencies. The town marshal

is there with two deputies to keep order, having been promised free drinks

by the trust.

"Well, sir, it took Bird City just ten minutes to realize that it was in a

cage. We expected trouble; but there wasn't any. The citizens saw that we

had 'em. The nearest railroad was thirty miles away; and it would be two

weeks at least before the river would be fordable. So they began to cuss,

amiable, and throw down dollars on the bar till it sounded like a selection

on the xylophone.

"There was about 1,500 grown-up adults in Bird City that had arrived

at years of indiscretion; and the majority of 'em required from three to

twenty drinks a day to make life endurable. The Blue Snake was the only

place where they could get 'em till the flood subsided. It was beautiful and

simple as all truly great swindles are."About ten o'clock the silver dollars

dropping on the bar slowed down to playing two-steps and marches

The Gentle Grafter

instead of jigs. But I looked out the window and saw a hundred or two of

our customers standing in line at Bird City Savings and Loan Co., and I

knew they were borrowing more money to be sucked in by the clammy

tendrils of the octopus.

"At the fashionable hour of noon everybody went home to dinner. We

told the bartenders to take advantage of the lull, and do the same. Then me

and Andy counted the receipts. We had taken in $1,300. We calculated that

if Bird City would only remain an island for two weeks the trust would be

able to endow the Chicago University with a new dormitory of padded

cells for the faculty, and present every worthy poor man in Texas with a

farm, provided he furnished the site for it.

"Andy was especial inroaded by self-esteem at our success, the

rudiments of the scheme having originated in his own surmises and

premonitions. He got off the safe and lit the biggest cigar in the house.

"'Jeff,' says he, 'I don't suppose that anywhere in the world you could

find three cormorants with brighter ideas about down-treading the

proletariat than the firm of Peters, Satan and Tucker, incorporated. We

have sure handed the small consumer a giant blow in the sole apoplectic

region. No?'

"'Well,' says I, 'it does look as if we would have to take up gastritis and

golf or be measured for kilts in spite of ourselves. This little turn in bug

juice is, verily, all to the Skibo. And I can stand it,' says I, 'I'd rather batten

than bant any day.'

"Andy pours himself out four fingers of our best rye and does with it

as was so intended. It was the first drink I had ever known him to take.

"'By way of liberation,' says he, 'to the gods.'

"And then after thus doing umbrage to the heathen diabetes he drinks

another to our success. And then he begins to toast the trade, beginning

with Raisuli and the Northern Pacific, and on down the line to the little

ones like the school book combine and the oleomargarine outrages and the

Lehigh Valley and Great Scott Coal Federation.

"'It's all right, Andy,' says I, 'to drink the health of our brother

monopolists, but don't overdo the wassail. You know our most eminent

and loathed multi-corruptionists live on weak tea and dog biscuits.'

The Gentle Grafter

"Andy went in the back room awhile and came out dressed in his best

clothes. There was a kind of murderous and soulful look of gentle

riotousness in his eye that I didn't like. I watched him to see what turn the

whiskey was going to take in him. There are two times when you never

can tell what is going to happen. One is when a man takes his first drink;

and the other is when a woman takes her latest.

"In less than an hour Andy's skate had turned to an ice yacht. He was

outwardly decent and managed to preserve his aquarium, but inside he was

impromptu and full of unexpectedness.

"'Jeff,' says he, 'do you know that I'm a crater--a living crater?'

"'That's a self-evident hypothesis,' says I. 'But you're not Irish. Why

don't you say 'creature,' according to the rules and syntax of America?'

"'I'm the crater of a volcano,' says he. 'I'm all aflame and crammed

inside with an assortment of words and phrases that have got to have an

exodus. I can feel millions of synonyms and parts of speech rising in me,'

says he, 'and I've got to make a speech of some sort. Drink,' says Andy,

'always drives me to oratory.'

"'It could do no worse,' says I.

"'From my earliest recollections,' says he, 'alcohol seemed to stimulate

my sense of recitation and rhetoric. Why, in Bryan's second campaign,'

says Andy, 'they used to give me three gin rickeys and I'd speak two hours

longer than Billy himself could on the silver question. Finally, they

persuaded me to take the gold cure.'

"'If you've got to get rid of your excess verbiage,' says I, 'why not go

out on the river bank and speak a piece? It seems to me there was an old

spell-binder named Cantharides that used to go and disincorporate himself

of his windy numbers along the seashore.'

"'No,' says Andy, 'I must have an audience. I feel like if I once turned

loose people would begin to call Senator Beveridge the Grand Young

Sphinx of the Wabash. I've got to get an audience together, Jeff, and get

this oral distension assuaged or it may turn in on me and I'd go about

feeling like a deckle-edge edition de luxe of Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth.'

"'On what special subject of the theorems and topics does your desire

for vocality seem to be connected with?' I asks.

The Gentle Grafter

"'I ain't particular,' says Andy. 'I am equally good and varicose on all

subjects. I can take up the matter of Russian immigration, or the poetry of

John W. Keats, or the tariff, or Kabyle literature, or drainage, and make

my audience weep, cry, sob and shed tears by turns.'

"'Well, Andy,' says I, 'if you are bound to get rid of this accumulation

of vernacular suppose you go out in town and work it on some indulgent

citizen. Me and the boys will take care of the business. Everybody will be

through dinner pretty soon, and salt pork and beans makes a man pretty

thirsty. We ought to take in $1,500 more by midnight.'

"So Andy goes out of the Blue Snake, and I see him stopping men on

the street and talking to 'em. By and by he has half a dozen in a bunch

listening to him; and pretty soon I see him waving his arms and elocuting

at a good-sized crowd on a corner. When he walks away they string out

after him, talking all the time; and he leads 'em down the main street of

Bird City with more men joining the procession as they go. It reminded

me of the old legerdemain that I'd read in books about the Pied Piper of

Heidsieck charming the children away from the town.

"One o'clock came; and then two; and three got under the wire for

place; and not a Bird citizen came in for a drink. The streets were deserted

except for some ducks and ladies going to the stores. There was only a

light drizzle falling then.

"A lonesome man came along and stopped in front of the Blue Snake

to scrape the mud off his boots.

"'Pardner,' says I, 'what has happened? This morning there was hectic

gaiety afoot; and now it seems more like one of them ruined cities of Tyre

and Siphon where the lone lizard crawls on the walls of the main port-

cullis.'

"'The whole town,' says the muddy man, 'is up in Sperry's wool

warehouse listening to your side-kicker make a speech. He is some gravy

on delivering himself of audible sounds relating to matters and

conclusions,' says the man.

"'Well, I hope he'll adjourn, sine qua non, pretty soon,' says I, 'for trade

languishes.'

"Not a customer did we have that afternoon. At six o'clock two

The Gentle Grafter

Mexicans brought Andy to the saloon lying across the back of a burro. We

put him in bed while he still muttered and gesticulated with his hands and

feet.

"Then I locked up the cash and went out to see what had happened. I

met a man who told me all about it. Andy had made the finest two hour

speech that had ever been heard in Texas, he said, or anywhere else in the

world.

"'What was it about?' I asked.

"'Temperance,' says he. 'And when he got through, every man in Bird

City signed the pledge for a year.'"

The Gentle Grafter

JEFF PETERS AS A PERSONAL MAGNET

Jeff Peters has been engaged in as many schemes for making money as

there are recipes for cooking rice in Charleston, S.C.

Best of all I like to hear him tell of his earlier days when he sold

liniments and cough cures on street corners, living hand to mouth, heart to

heart with the people, throwing heads or tails with fortune for his last coin.

"I struck Fisher Hill, Arkansaw," said he, "in a buckskin suit,

moccasins, long hair and a thirty-carat diamond ring that I got from an

actor in Texarkana. I don't know what he ever did with the pocket knife I

swapped him for it.

"I was Dr. Waugh-hoo, the celebrated Indian medicine man. I carried

only one best bet just then, and that was Resurrection Bitters. It was made

of life-giving plants and herbs accidentally discovered by Ta- qua-la, the

beautiful wife of the chief of the Choctaw Nation, while gathering truck to

garnish a platter of boiled dog for the annual corn dance.

"Business hadn't been good in the last town, so I only had five dollars.

I went to the Fisher Hill druggist and he credited me for half a gross of

eight-ounce bottles and corks. I had the labels and ingredients in my valise,

left over from the last town. Life began to look rosy again after I got in my

hotel room with the water running from the tap, and the Resurrection

Bitters lining up on the table by the dozen.

"Fake? No, sir. There was two dollars' worth of fluid extract of

cinchona and a dime's worth of aniline in that half-gross of bitters. I've

gone through towns years afterwards and had folks ask for 'em again.

"I hired a wagon that night and commenced selling the bitters on Main

Street. Fisher Hill was a low, malarial town; and a compound hypothetical

pneumocardiac anti-scorbutic tonic was just what I diagnosed the crowd as

needing. The bitters started off like sweetbreads-on-toast at a vegetarian

dinner. I had sold two dozen at fifty cents apiece when I felt somebody

pull my coat tail. I knew what that meant; so I climbed down and sneaked

a five dollar bill into the hand of a man with a German silver star on his

lapel.

The Gentle Grafter

"'Constable,' says I, 'it's a fine night.'

"'Have you got a city license,' he asks, 'to sell this illegitimate essence

of spooju that you flatter by the name of medicine?'

"'I have not,' says I. 'I didn't know you had a city. If I can find it to-

morrow I'll take one out if it's necessary.'

"'I'll have to close you up till you do,' says the constable.

"I quit selling and went back to the hotel. I was talking to the landlord

about it.

"'Oh, you won't stand no show in Fisher Hill,' says he. 'Dr. Hoskins,

the only doctor here, is a brother-in-law of the Mayor, and they won't

allow no fake doctor to practice in town.'

"'I don't practice medicine,' says I, 'I've got a State peddler's license,

and I take out a city one wherever they demand it.'

"I went to the Mayor's office the next morning and they told me he

hadn't showed up yet. They didn't know when he'd be down. So Doc

Waugh-hoo hunches down again in a hotel chair and lights a jimpson-

weed regalia, and waits.

"By and by a young man in a blue necktie slips into the chair next to

me and asks the time.

"'Half-past ten,' says I, 'and you are Andy Tucker. I've seen you work.

Wasn't it you that put up the Great Cupid Combination package on the

Southern States? Let's see, it was a Chilian diamond engagement ring, a

wedding ring, a potato masher, a bottle of soothing syrup and Dorothy

Vernon--all for fifty cents.'

"Andy was pleased to hear that I remembered him. He was a good

street man; and he was more than that--he respected his profession, and he

was satisfied with 300 per cent. profit. He had plenty of offers to go into

the illegitimate drug and garden seed business; but he was never to be

tempted off of the straight path.

"I wanted a partner, so Andy and me agreed to go out together. I told

him about the situation in Fisher Hill and how finances was low on

account of the local mixture of politics and jalap. Andy had just got in on

the train that morning. He was pretty low himself, and was going to

canvass the whole town for a few dollars to build a new battleship by

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TheGentleGrafter1TheGentleGrafterbyO.HenryTheGentleGrafter2ITHEOCTOPUSMAROONED"Atrustisitsweakestpoint,"saidJeffPeters."That,"saidI,"soundslikeoneofthoseunintelligibleremarkssuchas,'Whyisapoliceman?'""Itisnot,"saidJeff."Therearenorelationsbetweenatrustandapoliceman.Myremarkwasanepitogram--anaxis--ak...

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