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"Well, I'll not hold my offer open another day. I'll be here to-morrow morning at this time. Please don't keep me waiting. You know I'm a very busy man."
They paid Mr. Foster for their wares, and pa.s.sed out; one with an old vase, and the other with a bra.s.s bowl in his hands.
"I think we've got him!" Hooker overheard one of them say, as the two pa.s.sed by him in the dimly-lighted room.
Yes. Worse luck. Hooker knew it was useless to make other offers. He had not the bank account to compete with the famous connoisseurs that had just left. And he knew Mr. Foster was a gentleman of the old school, and would not use one offer to secure a better one.
"Good morning, Mr. Foster."
"Why have I the honor of this visit?"
"Well, to tell the truth, I read in the _Herald_ that you were going to move. I would like to know at what price you hold this house and lot?"
"Well, I'd sell cheap. Properties in this section are not worth what they once were. It is a.s.sessed at seventy thousand dollars. There is a mortgage on it of sixty. I'd take seventy-five for it. This section is too antiquated for residences, and business is moving uptown.
"But I want it for a residence. May I look through it?"
"Of course!"
Hooker examined all the rooms, noted the old-fashioned plumbing, and said that the whole house needed a thorough going-over.
"Well--I think I'll take it," he said at last. "Do you want the old furniture? I would sooner buy it furnished, that is, if I could buy it at a price!"
This was a golden opportunity for poor Foster. To sell his house with its worn furniture and the vase, in a single day was an achievement!
"I would sell the house and contents entire for eighty-five thousand dollars. I must exempt one vase, however. I've just been offered fifteen thousand dollars for it."
"Not for a single vase?"
"Yes, would you like to see it?"
"It's not much use. But I'm naturally curious."
Mr. Foster, with great dignity, showed the beautiful hawthorn vase. It gleamed silently in the gla.s.s case.
"What! Fifteen thousand for _that_! Perhaps, if it is really worth anything like that, I can afford to speculate. I might obtain a better offer on it. I'll give you ninety-five thousand dollars for the house and its entire furnishings."
"No. The lowest is one hundred thousand."
"Done! I'll take a chance. Give me an agreement of sale, and the matter's ended!"
Robert Hooker had a white elephant on his hands. The house was really worth but the value of the mortgage, and the furniture scarcely five thousand dollars.
What was he to do? Thirty-five thousand dollars was a great deal for a poor man to give for a vase....
He removed the vase that afternoon to his own modest apartment and requested Mr. Foster to refer any one interested in its purchase to him.
At ten o'clock next morning, he had an unusual visitor at his flat in West Eighty-ninth Street. John T. Sterling had called to see him.
Hooker went into the living-room, visibly embarra.s.sed in the presence of the great man.
"Good morning, Mr. Hooker. I'll state my business quickly. Mr. Foster tells me you purchased yesterday his house and furniture. Now I'd like to buy it, if it's in the market. I think I could turn it into a garage. I need one in that neighborhood. I'll give you ten percent more than it cost you."
"No--not at all. I'll tell you what I'll do. If you give me one hundred and fifteen thousand for the house and its contents, _as it is now_, I shall call it a bargain. It'll be a quick turn."
"All right. We'll go down to my attorney's at once and draw up a bill of sale. The entire contents of the house as it is this moment, mind you. Come right along. You know I'm a very busy man!"
"That's known everywhere!" said Hooker, with a flattering smile.
On Fifth Avenue, that afternoon:
"Done! by G.o.d! and by a mere kid!"
On Eighty-ninth Street, that evening:
"_That_ will make the Hooker Museum famous!"
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF SHAKESPEARE
Booklovers have considered the little volume presented by Francis Bacon to William Shakespeare the most glorious book in the world. It remained for many years in the British Museum, and many a pilgrimage has been made to worship at its shrine.
It was deposited in the Museum in 1838 by the Hedley family of Crawford Manor, and had been in the National Library for so long a time that it was considered the property of the nation.
The book itself was of great rarity as it was no other than the first edition of Bacon's "Essayes" published in London in 1597. It bore the following inscription written upon one of the fly-leaves:
To my perfect Friend Mr. Wylliam Shakespeare I give this booke as an eternall Witnesse of my love.
FRA. BACON.
In 1908 the Hedley family were in financial straits. It was discovered that the copy of Bacon's Essays had not been presented to the British Museum but merely deposited as a loan. The Museum tried its best to retain the precious volume, but the records were clear upon the point.
In December, 1909, the Hedleys stated that they would sell it to the Museum for 40,000 or fifty thousand dollars less than had been offered for it.
An unknown collector would give two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for it!
The newspapers inaugurated a public subscription to keep the volume in England, claiming that its loss could never be estimated as it was the most precious memorial in existence of the golden age of English literature.
It was suspected, of course, that it would go to America.
After six months, it was found impossible to collect the money required. There was, apparently, but little interest in things of a literary and artistic nature. If it had been for a new battleship costing twenty times this amount, the money would have been forthcoming instantly.
It was finally announced in the London papers that the celebrated collector, William S. Fields of New York, was the fortunate purchaser of the world-famed volume. The news was heralded the world over.