Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary BiographyOliphant, Laurence
General
Piccadilly: A Fragment of Contemporary Biography
Oliphant, Laurence
Piccadilly (London, England) -- Fiction
"Why, yes. How can you operate freely if you are afraid of the law?
Besides his regular monthly allowance, my judge gets a percentage on
every one of my financial enterprises which are fraudulent according to
the letter of the statute. Then it costs me a good deal to manage to get
all my lawsuits tried in his court. Besides, I have to keep a number of
members of both the Houses of the Legislature at Albany regularly
retained, and to put a big pile on one side for lobby operations at
Washington, to say nothing about keeping the pockets of police and
custom-house officers and other small fry well lined. The press alone
swallows up the fifth of all I make. How do you suppose I could ever
have accomplished my celebrated combination by which I got four large
railroads under my control, and sold a secret issue of twenty millions
of stock for fifteen millions, without ever paying one dime of it to any
of the companies, if I had not stopped the mouths of the lawyers,
politicians, and newspapers with greenbacks? Why, sir, I have ruined
more whole families in one day by one of my financial operations, than
any other man in the United States has in a month; and by the
extraordinary novelty, grandeur, variety, and success of my
undertakings, I have won the admiration, envy, and respect of the
majority of my countrymen."
Spiffy seemed deeply impressed by the superior force and originality of
conception displayed by Mr Wog--no indication of these qualities
appearing on his calm exterior. "Of what nature are your operations in
Fifth Avenue?" he asked.
"Oh, purely social," Mr Wog replied. "You see the aristocracy of New
York require to be approached in a very special way. You can enter into
the ranks of the upper ten, either by becoming a pillar of a fashionable
church, or by driving the fastest trotters and handsomest four-in-hand
teams in Central Park, or by the help of Mr Pink."
"By the help of Mr Pink?" said I, interrogatively.
"Yes. He corresponds to our friend Spiffy here. He is the sexton of St
Grace's, the most fashionable church in New York; and when you have made
your pile, and want to start in fashionable life, and don't know who to
invite, he makes out your list, and puts the invitations to your first
ball in the prayer-books of the congregation. It imparts a sort of odour
of sanctity to our entertainments, which is exceedingly gratifying to
our most refined circles."
"I suppose," said I, "now that your social and financial position are
secured, you will run for Congress."
"Sir," said Mr Wog, sternly, "when I explained to you the nature of my
commercial success, it was to convey to you the idea of my smartness,
not of my meanness. I am not aware of having said anything to lead you
to suppose that I could so far degrade myself as to become a
politician."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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