articles that were to beautify their parlors and chambers, merely
saying to her:
“Let what you get be good. It is cheapest in the end.”
Well, my friend had set her heart on a dozen chairs, a new sofa,
centre table, and “what-not,” for her parlors; and on a
dressing-bureau, mahogany bedstead, and wash-stand, for her chamber,
besides a new chamber carpet. Her first visit was to the ware-rooms
of one of our best cabinet makers; but, his prices completely
frightened her—for, at his rate, the articles she wanted would
amount to more than all the money she had to spend, and leave
nothing for the new chamber carpet.
“I must buy cheaper,” said she.
“The cheapest is generally dearest in the end,” returned the cabinet
maker.
“I don’t know about that,” remarked the lady, whose thoughts did not
take in the meaning of the man’s words. “All I know is, that I can
get as good articles as I desire at lower prices than you ask.”
It did not once occur to my friend, that it would be wisest to
lessen the number of articles, and get the remainder of the first
quality. No; her heart covered the whole inventory at first made
out, and nothing less would answer. So she went to an auction store,
and bought inferior articles at lower prices. I visited her soon
after. She showed me her bargains, and, with an air of exultation,
spoke of the cost.
“What do you think I paid for this?” said she, referring to a showy
dressing-bureau; and, as she spoke, she took hold of the suspended
looking-glass, and moved the upper portion of it forward. “Only
seventeen dollars!”
The words had scarcely passed her lips, ere the looking-glass broke
away from one of the screws that held it in the standards, and fell,
crashing, at our feet!
It cost just seven dollars to replace the glass. But, that was not
all—over thirty dollars were paid during the first year for
repairs. And this is only the beginning of troubles.
Cheap furniture is, in most cases, the dearest that housekeepers can
buy. It is always breaking, and usually costs more, in a year or
two, than the difference between its price and that of first-rate
articles; to say nothing of the vexation and want of satisfaction
that always attends its possession. Better be content with fewer
articles, if the purse be low, and have them good.
While on this subject, I will incorporate in these “Confessions” an
“Experience” of my sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. John Jones.
Mr. Jones is, in some respects, very much like Mr. Smith, and, as
will be seen in the story about to be given, my sister’s ideas of
things and my own, run quite parallel to each other. The story has
found its way, elsewhere, into print, for Mr. Jones, like myself,
has a natural fondness for types. But its repetition here will do no
harm, and bring it before many who would not otherwise see it.
CHAPTER V.
