“If you can get sixty-nine you may sell. I made up my mind to seventy, the quoted rates.” “Very well; I will make the effort,” returned the broker. On the next day, Mr. Townsend was informed that the broker had received an offer of sixty-eight, but had refused it. “Couldn’t you get sixty-nine?” “No, sir. Sixty-seven was the highest offer, except in a single quarter.” “I don’t like to sell at that, and throw over fifty thousand dollars into the fire.” “It is hard, but my advice to you is, to take the offer.” “I will think of it,” replied Mr. Townsend; and he went away to think. In the afternoon he returned, and directed the sale to be made at sixty-eight. On the next morning he received a note from the broker, stating that the market had receded greatly from the rates of the last few days, and that the party did not feel bound to take the stock, as the offer of sixty-eight had been at first declined. “Confusion!” ejaculated the unhappy merchant, stamping passionately upon the floor. “Pray, sir, what rates can be obtained?” he asked of the broker, in an excited tone, as he entered his office ten minutes afterward. “I do not think sales can be effected at any price to-day,” was replied. “All is doubt and uncertainty about the stock. I should not wonder to see it down to fifty, within a week.” “Fifty! Good heavens! Never!” “I hope not; but things look squally.” “Had I better take sixty-five, if I can get it?”---- “Yes, or sixty either. My advice is, sell at the first offer.” “Very well, get me an offer as soon as you can.” The offer came in a few days; it was fifty-seven dollars. “Fifty-seven!” ejaculated Mr. Townsend. “That’s out of the question!” “It’s the best I can do for you.” “I’m sorry; but I can’t take that. I am willing to let it go at sixty.” And thus the downward course progressed. The unhappy merchant, by clinging to a few hundreds in the hope of saving them, daily losing thousands. When the price at last fell to twenty, he gave up in a kind of despair, and awaited, in gloomy inactivity, the final result. At length, ten dollars, for what had cost a hundred and ten, were all that could be obtained. Up to this time, Mr. Townsend had concealed from his family the desperate state of his affairs. But now, the necessity for breaking to them a knowledge of his real condition, had come; for the maintenance of his present style of living, costing from five to six thousand dollars, annually, was impossible. All that he now really possessed in the world was his bank stock, which would net him less than fourteen thousand dollars. The house in which he lived was his property, and had cost between fifteen and sixteen thousand dollars, but judgment had been obtained against him for the notes upon which suit had been brought, and the house would have to go for its satisfaction.