Chapter 11 Chapter 2 The Fickle Orion

Let's go back to Orion. One day in the sixties, I was in San Francisco.I have a secret message from Mr. Kemp, a man of audacity, always able to make a fortune in speculation, but tending to lose his instant fortunes very quickly during the next six months. All in one go.Kemp told me to buy some Hale and Norcross, so I bought fifty shares at three hundred dollars a share.I bought the stock on margin and it took twenty per cent in one go, so I was out of money.So I wrote to Orion, saying that I was willing to give him half of the money, and asked him to send the half of the money as soon as possible.

I waited and waited, and he wrote that he would definitely get this done.At that time, the stock rose very vigorously, higher and higher. It once rose to 1,000 yuan a share, then climbed to 2,000 yuan, then 3,000 yuan, and then doubled again.The money still hasn't come, but I'm not worried. Then, slowly, the stock market began to fall, and I hurried to write to Orion.Orion replied that he had already sent the money—to the Western Hotel.I went there to inquire and they said no.To make a long story short, the next thing the stock started to go down, it dropped below what I had paid for it, and then it wiped out my margin, and by the time I finally sold it, I was bloodied and gutted.

By the time I figured out what happened to Orion's money, it was too late.Anyone else would have thought of sending a check, but what he sent was real gold.The gold was put in a safe by the hotel clerk, and since then it has been forgotten, and it has been sleeping in the safe ever since, but all this has done me a hard job.If someone else were to change it, he would definitely think of telling me that it was sent by postal parcel instead of letter.But Orion is doomed not to think of this. Then, Mr. Kemp gave me another chance.He agreed to buy the land in Tennessee that our father had left as a treasure for two hundred thousand dollars, part of which he paid in cash and the rest in long-term promissory notes.According to his own plan, he intends to introduce some experienced foreigners from the grape growing and wine making places in Europe, let them settle in that land, and make this land a wine making hometown.When he learned of Mr. Longworth's thoughts on these Tennessee grapes, he was very happy, and he was very optimistic about the prospects of this field.After everything was negotiated, I sent the contract and other things to Orion for his signature, because he also belongs to one of the three heirs.

But the timing of these arrivals was just bad—bad timing, in fact, at the very moment when he was taking a very intense interest in Prohibition on a whim.He wrote back that he didn't want to be part of the downfall of that region for wine.He added that he was not sure that Mr. Kemp would do justice to the poor souls from Europe--and so, without further inquiry, he ruined the whole deal and tried again. It was not saved either. In this way, this piece of land with father's ardent hope had suddenly risen to two hundred thousand yuan, but because of Orion's hotheadedness and confusion, he suddenly returned to like It's the same as before - not only worth nothing, but also paying taxes.This tax, of course, was paid by me, and besides that I had to bear other expenses, which I had paid for many years.But I've put aside that annoying piece of Tennessee, money or otherwise, and never cared about it again until yesterday.

Until yesterday, I always thought that it was Orion who ruined the last acre of land, and he really thought so.But yesterday a gentleman came from Tennessee with a map showing that, correcting for that long-ago survey, we had a thousand acres left.The land was in a coalfield, part of the hundred thousand acres my father left us when he died in 1847. This gentleman gave us a proposal, and came to visit us, accompanying a well-known and well-to-do citizen of New York.They suggested that we have this gentleman in Tennessee sell the land at the gentleman in New York's expense, and if there were any lawsuits, he would also deal with it, and one-third of the proceeds would go to Tennessee. Gentleman of New York, one third went to the Gentleman of New York, and the other third went to Sam Moffett, his sister, Mrs. Charles le Webster, and myself—we are the heirs, jointly.

This time, I only hope that this piece of Tennessee can be completely disposed of, and I will never have to worry about it again. The creation of this piece of land was originally due to a misunderstanding, and now it is time to eliminate this misunderstanding.My father carried this burden because of a misunderstanding, and because of a misunderstanding, he left this burden and this piece of land to us.This time, I made up my mind to deal with all the misunderstandings accumulated over and over again as soon as possible. I came to the East in January, 1867.Orion stayed in Carson City about a year longer than I did, and then he sold his house and furniture, which cost twelve thousand dollars, for thirty-five hundred dollars in bills. Thirty percent off.He and his wife flew first class to New York.In New York, they stayed in a very luxurious hotel, and wandered about the city very luxuriously, and then slipped to Keokak.They arrived almost penniless, as they had when they first moved there in July 1861.

Around 1871 or 1872, they got to New York, and then they had to go elsewhere.Orion had tried to make a living practicing law since he arrived on the Pacific coast, but he had only taken two cases in all, which he would have done for free--but never could I know, because the parties concerned closed the case in private before he intervened. In Keokak, I bought my mom a house - I gave her a sum every month, and Orion gave a sum, and they lived together in the house.Originally, Orion could do what he wanted in the typesetting room of "City Gate" (a daily newspaper), and the salary was good, but his wife couldn't save face because she was the governor's wife, and she firmly disagreed with such a lower status. .She prefers to live on relief.

Still, as I said, they came East, and Orion got a proofreading job at the Evening Post in New York for ten dollars a week.They rented a small single room, and the cooking was also done in the house.They live on this money. Soon, Orion came to Hartford again, and asked me to help him find a reporter's job in a newspaper in Hartford.So I had another chance to try that great and tried-and-true method, and I did.I told him to go to the Evening Post in Hartford with no letters of introduction, just to do some cleaning or something, no money, and say he just needed work, No need for money, all he wants is work.Sure enough, within six weeks, he was transferred to the editorial department of this newspaper, with a salary of twenty yuan a week.The work he did was worth the price, so other newspapers immediately invited him over to give him better treatment, but I suggested that he not promise others, but go to the "Evening Post" first, and write Inform them of this.So Corriere della Sera offered him a raise and kept him.I think it is the happiest job he has ever had in his life, and it suits his personality very well, it is extremely light, and he is very comfortable in every way.

However, what should come will always come, and the unlucky moment has finally arrived, which cannot be stopped. At that time, a Republican daily was going to start in Rutland, Vermont. It was run by a stock company owned by some wealthy politicians. They were going to invite Orion to be the editor-in-chief with a salary of three thousand dollars a year.He wanted it badly, and his wife wanted it too—no, more, doubled, tripled.It was useless to persuade me in every possible way. I said: "You are as soft and supple as water. People will soon find this out. They will find that you have no backbone. They can be as soft as water." Treat you like a slave. You may stay six months, but never much longer, and then, instead of asking you to go like a gentleman, they throw you away like a bum go out."

My prediction was not alarmist at all, and later facts proved that it was true. Orion and his wife moved once more to the degraded and inoffensive Keokak.When he got there, Orion wrote that he was not going back to law practice, that for his health he thought he needed green industry and fresh air, a kind of outdoor work.He said that his father-in-law had a small piece of land and a small house on the border river a mile away from Keekake, and he planned to buy this land to start a chicken farm, which would not only supply Keewake Chickens and eggs for the cock, and cream—but I don't know if the chicken farm produces cream.He told me that this place can be obtained with only 3,000 yuan in cash, so I sent the money over.

Orion started raising chickens, and he would send me a detailed report every month.Judging from the report, he was able to successfully sell the chickens to the common people in Keokak at a price of one dollar and twenty-five cents per pair, but from the report, it is also known that his cost per pair of chickens was It costs one yuan and six cents.But Orion didn't seem to be discouraged by it, and of course I let him go. At the same time, every month he would regularly borrow a hundred dollars from me, every month.And the thing that best explains Orion's strict and rigid style of doing business--he has always boasted of his high-level business skills--after receiving the hundred dollars at the beginning of each month, , will send the IOU for this money, in addition to the annual interest of six cents per hundred yuan, from that money, send a month's interest, these IOUs are always for a period of three months .Of course I didn't keep these things, I don't think they are worth a penny to anyone. As I said, he has been sending in a monthly account of the profit or loss of the chicken raising--at least the account of how much the chicks are losing each month. His report contains various expenditure items-- —The food expenditure for feeding the chickens, the cost of buying a hat for his wife, the cost of buying a pair of boots for himself, and so on, even including the fare of the car, and a dime a month for those missionaries who want to entrap the Chinese donations to help.Later, I found out that there was twenty-five yuan for a church seat in the expenditure item, and I became angry immediately, and immediately asked him to change his religious beliefs and sell the seat. Orion's poultry experiment probably only lasted a year or two, but it cost me six thousand dollars anyway.It is my impression that Orion did not sell his chicken farm, that his father-in-law took it back as an act of self-sacrificing kindness. In the end, Orion had to go back to his old job and become a lawyer again. I think he should have been doing this for the next twenty-five years.However, as far as I know, he only called himself a lawyer, and no clients actually came to him. In the summer of 1890, my mother died.She left me some money, which she saved. I gave her money one after another in the past, but she was never willing to use it.Later I gave the money to Orion, who thanked me.He also said that I have supported him for a long time, and now I want to release this burden from me, and hope to return some of the expenses, maybe all of the expenses to me.Therefore, he decided to use the money to build some rooms, with the purpose of attracting some boarders and seeking to make a fortune. Alas, I won't say more about this matter here, it's just another failure.His wife, on the other hand, did everything possible to facilitate the plan, because she believed naively and stubbornly that if others could succeed, so could she.She is very kind, and everyone likes her very much. She has a lot of vanity and troubles, but in conscience, she also has a pragmatic side.Maybe it's just bad luck. If it wasn't for bad luck, she should be able to make the boarding plan profitable and make a lot of money. Orion had many other schemes to compensate me, but in the beginning they always cost some money, so I didn't join them, and they didn't work out.He once told me that he wanted to start a newspaper, which was a terrible idea, and I immediately rejected the plan, almost in a particularly rude manner. Later, he invented a machine for sawing wood, and he put it together himself, and saw wood with it.Originally, he could make a small fortune by relying on this great invention, but the timing was unlucky, and God’s will once again abandoned him. When Orion went to apply for the patent right, he found that someone had already patented the same machine. Patents have been applied for and business has been booming. Soon an incentive was offered in New York State, with a prize of fifty thousand dollars, for an efficient means of moving steamships through the Erie Canal.For this reason, Orion worked hard for two or three years and invented a method, which was indeed very perfect on the surface, and this time he saw that the money was about to be obtained.However, someone pointed out the disadvantages of this method. The canal steam turbine he designed could not be used in winter, and in summer, when its water wheel stirred the water, it would wash away New York State on both sides of the river. Orion's money-making schemes to pay off my debts are ever-changing and innumerable.These plans, repeated over the next thirty years, failed each time. During all these thirty years, because of the reputation of being honest, whenever anyone had money to look after, it was entrusted to Orion, but he was not paid.He was the treasurer of all charities, and oversaw the widows' and orphans' money, and other property, and he never underpaid a penny, and never took a penny out of it for himself.Every time he changed denominations, the new denomination was always willing to accept him and immediately gave him the position of treasurer, and he could really immediately plug the financial loopholes of that church. The frequency and ease with which his political face has changed has shocked and amazed the entire society.Once such a strange thing happened, he wrote to me himself and told me the whole story. One morning, when he was still a Republican, he was invited to give a campaign speech at a Republican rally that night, and even prepared the speech.But no one expected that after lunch, he would become a Democrat.He agreed to write twenty rousing slogans for them, to be scribbled on transparent objects during the Democratic torchlight parade that night, and he rushed out the cheering slogans in the afternoon.It took him a lot of time to write these things, and it was already dark when he finished writing, and he didn't have time to change his political views.So, in full view, he gave a Republican campaign speech that was very inspiring.At the same time, the slogan he wrote for the Democratic parade, painted on transparent objects, passed in front of him.This unusual and aggressive behavior of Orion made everyone present laugh. Orion is a weird guy - but while he's been eccentric all his life, he's well liked wherever he lives, and he's well respected because he's, at the end of the day, a pure, kind man. People, very warm to people. Orion can handle any ridiculous situation.When he was working for the Hartford Evening Post, he and his wife lived in an apartment in the same Hartford with a group of moderately earning, well-behaved tenants of both sexes. Tenants in an apartment share a bathroom.One Sunday afternoon, when everyone was resting, Orion wanted to take a bath, so he did, but he forgot to lock the door.In summer, he always used to fill the rectangular bathtub with cold water, then climb in and kneel in it, with his face in the water and his nose down, and he would maintain such a happy posture for several minutes each time.At this moment, a maid suddenly entered, and then rushed out, shouting sharply all over the room: "Mr. Clemens is drowned!" People were running out of the house, and Mrs. Clemens came rushing out, saying very mournfully, "How did you know it was Mr. Clemens?" "I don't know," said the maid. It made me think of Billy Nye, poor fellow--the real humorist, the quiet kind soul.Oh, he is dead, may he rest in peace, he was the most bald man I ever saw, so that his whole head shone like a cupola bathed in sunlight, Not even a tuft of hair.Once, when someone expressed surprise at his prominent baldness, he said, "Oh, that's nothing, you should see my brother." One day, he fell into the water from the ferry, and when he climbed out, a woman yelled anxiously and fearfully: "You shameless thing, there are women here, get down quickly, and come out again in a different position." .” About twenty-five years ago—something like this—I wrote to Orion, suggesting that he write an autobiography, that he should try to write about what was actually going on, and not pretend to be himself, but to tell the interesting story of his life. Write down everything honestly, including those things that are still fresh in your memory because of shame.I said that no one has done such a thing in the past. If he can write such an autobiography, then this autobiography will become a very valuable literary work.I said I was making him do something I couldn't do myself, but I hoped he could do it successfully. But now I realized that I was asking him to do something that was simply impossible.I have been dictating my autobiography every day for three months now, and I have thought of fifteen hundred to two thousand things in my life that I am ashamed of Anything to write on paper.In my opinion, when I finish this autobiography (if it can be completed at all), the previous number will not be reduced in the slightest; When the book is revised, these things will definitely be deleted. Orion eventually wrote his autobiography and sent it to me.But he disappointed me too much, and irritated me too much.In his autobiography he always made himself a hero, just as I did and still do, and he always forgot to include his inglorious incidents.For example, I do know for sure that there were a few notable, painfully not-so-glamorous events in his life, but by the time I read in his autobiography, those events had completely changed their tone, These things that had made him very humiliated were completely reversed and turned into something to be especially proud of. In 1898, while we were living in Vienna, a telegram came from Kierkak one day saying that Orion had died at the age of seventy-two.One frigid morning in December, he went to the kitchen to light a fire, then sat down at the table to write something.And so he died, pen in hand, pressed to paper, with a single word unfinished—these signs that when he was freed from the shackles of his long, tedious, miserable, useless life, , the time was very short, and I didn't even feel any great pain.