But, as is usual, in all sayings of effort there was more smartness than truth in this description; though, after making a trifling allowance for the coloring of political rivalry, the reader may receive its physical portion as sufficiently descriptive to answer all the necessary purposes of this tale.  If we add, that he was a trader of great wealth and shrewdness, and a bachelor, we need say no more in this stage of the narrative.

Notwithstanding the early hour at which this industrious and flourishing merchant quitted his abode, his movement along the narrow streets of his native town was measured and dignified.  More than once, he stopped to speak to some favorite family-servant, invariably terminating his inquiries after the health of the master, by some facetious observation adapted to the habits and capacity of the slave.  From this, it would seem, that, while he had so exaggerated notions of domestic discipline, the worthy burgher was far from being one who indulged, by inclination, in the menaces he has been heard to utter.  He had just dismissed one of these loitering negroes, when, on turning a corner, a man of his own color, for the first time that morning, suddenly stood before him.  The startled citizen made an involuntary movement to avoid the unexpected interview, and then, perceiving the difficulty of such a step, he submitted, with as good a grace as if it had been one of his own seeking.

“The orb of day—­the morning gun—­and Mr Alderman Van Beverout!” exclaimed the individual encountered.  “Such is the order of events, at this early hour, on each successive revolution of our earth.”

The countenance of the Alderman had barely time to recover its composure, ere he was required to answer to this free and somewhat facetious salutation.  Uncovering his head, he bowed so ceremoniously as to leave the other no reason to exult in his pleasantry, as he answered—­

“The colony has reason to regret the services of a governor who can quit his bed so soon.  That we of business habits stir betimes, is quite in reason; but there are those in this town, who would scarce believe their eyes did they enjoy my present happiness.”

“Sir, there are many in this colony who have great reason to distrust their senses, though none can be mistaken in believing they see Alderman Van Beverout in a well-employed man.  He that dealeth in the produce of the beaver must have the animal’s perseverance and forethought!  Now, were I a king-at-arms, there should be a concession made in thy favor, Myndert, of a shield bearing the animal mordant, a mantle of fur, with two Mohawk hunters for supporters, and the motto, ‘Industry.’”

“Or what think you, my Lord,” returned the other, who did not more than half relish the pleasantry of his companion, “of a spotless shield for a clear conscience, with an open hand for a crest, and the motto, ’Frugality and Justice?’”

“I like the open hand, though the conceit is pretending.  I see you would intimate that the Van Beverouts have not need, at this late day, to search a herald’s office for honors.  I remember, now I bethink me, on some occasion to have seen their bearings; a windmill, courant; dyke, coulant; field, vert, sprinkled with black cattle—­No! then, memory is treacherous; the morning air is pregnant with food for the imagination!”