"Here we go up, up, up;And here we go down, down, downee!"
NURSERY SONG.
Meanwhile, at Milton the chimneys smoked, the ceaseless roar andmighty beat, and dizzying whirl of machinery, struggled and stroveperpetually. Senseless and purposeless were wood and iron and steamin their endless labours; but the persistence of their monotonous workwas rivalled in tireless endurance by the strong crowds, who, with senseand with purpose, were busy and restless in seeking after--What? In thestreets there were few loiterers,--none walking for mere pleasure; everyman"s face was set in lines of eagerness or anxiety; news was sought forwith fierce avidity; and men jostled each other aside in the Mart and inthe Exchange, as they did in life, in the deep selfishness of competition.
There was gloom over the town. Few came to buy, and those who didwere looked at suspiciously by the sellers; for credit was insecure, andthe most stable might have their fortunes affected by the sweep in thegreat neighbouring port among the shipping houses. Hitherto there hadbeen no failures in Milton; but, from the immense speculations that had come to light in making a bad end in America, and yet nearer home, itwas known that some Milton houses of business must suffer so severelythat every day men"s faces asked, if their tongues did not, "What news?
Who is gone? How will it affect me?" And if two or three spoketogether, they dwelt rather on the names of those who were safe thandared to hint at those likely, in their opinion, to go; for idle breath may,at such times, cause the downfall of some who might otherwise weatherthe storm; and one going down drags many after. "Thornton is safe," saythey. "His business is large--extending every year; but such a head as hehas, and so prudent with all his daring!" Then one man draws anotheraside, and walks a little apart, and, with head inclined into hisneighbour"s ear, he says, "Thornton"s business is large; but he has spenthis profits in extending it; he has no capital laid by; his machinery isnew within these two years, and has cost him--we won"t say what!--aword to the wise!" But that Mr. Harrison was a croaker,--a man who hadsucceeded to his father"s trade-made fortune, which he had feared tolose by altering his mode of business to any having a larger scope; yethe grudged every penny made by others more daring and far-sighted.