lliliUSTRATEO BY 
 
PAULINE FORE MOFFITT 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 GENERAL LIBRARY, BERKELEY 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
" / hear our Landlord coming in to 
 replenish the fire. " 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER TALES 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES L. FORD 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY THE PUCK ARTISTS I 
 
 C. JAY TAYLOR, F. OPPER, S. B. GRIFFIN, 
 L. DALRYMPLE 
 
 NEW EDITION 
 
 GEORGE H. RICHMOND & Co. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 1894 
 
Copyright, 1894, by GEORGE H. RICHMOND & Co. 
 

 The power of Thought the magic of the Mind." 
 
 THE CORSAIR. BYRON. 
 
 360 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES: (/" Crated ly C. Jay Taylor.) 
 
 Pagt 
 
 The Landlord s Tale 
 
 Introduction 
 
 The Fiddler s Tale I5 
 
 The Spiritualist s Tale 2 ~ 
 
 The Detective s Tale 37 
 
 The Boston Girl s Tale 47 
 
 The Representative Business Man s Tale 57 
 
 The Rich Presbyterian s Tale 69 
 
 The Genial s Tale 70 
 
 The Chaperon s Tale o! 
 
 The School-bov s Tale . TO? 
 
 (Illustrated by F. Opper, C. jfay Taylor, 
 OT H E R T A L E S : S. B. Griffin, L. Dairy mple.) 
 
 The Bunco-Steerer s Christmas ... ... 113 
 
 Aladdin . . 119 
 
 John Coppertug s Fall ... .... 129 
 
 The Assemblyman s Bride . 147 
 
 The Deserted House ^ 
 
 Two Old Crones j^x 
 
 Lish Pogram s Thanksgiving Hog .167 
 
 Beanville Journalism 170 
 
 The Stockbroker s Christmas. Gift i 79 
 
 In the "400" and Out ^3 
 
 The Evolution of the Humorist 187 
 
 The Curiosities Christmas . . 195 
 
 At the Chromo-Literary Reception 201 
 
 The Master Thief .... 209 
 
 An Undiplomatic Diary 215 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IT WAS the last day of their sojourn in the mountains, 
 where, for nearly two months, the queerly assorted 
 company had dwelt together in a state of peace and 
 harmony which would have been impossible if they had 
 been carefully selected with a view to pleasing one 
 another. And as they gathered in a large half circle 
 about the open wood-fire, they spoke regretfully of the 
 fact that their holiday was over, and that the next day 
 would see them scattered in different directions. 
 The Rich Presbyterian was going back to 
 New York; the School-Boy was due at 
 his boarding-school ; the Fiddler had 
 an engagement to play in Chicago; 
 the Boston Girl was invited to 
 Lenox; and as for the Detective, 
 nobody knew in what direction his 
 mysterious duties might lead him. 
 To-night a new guest had joined the company 
 an elderly man of scholarly aspect, with a long, snow- 
 white beard. 
 
 The company had not been seated long beside the 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 fire when the conversation turned on some of the recent 
 discoveries in science, and it was noticed that when 
 these topics were touched upon, the stranger with the 
 white beard brightened up, and took part in the talk. 
 Then the Spiritualist led them all off into the realms 
 of second sight, spirit rappings, and other tenets of his 
 queer faith, and waxed positively eloquent as he de 
 scribed various mysterious experiences which he had 
 undergone. 
 
 " There s nothing more wonderful on earth," he 
 exclaimed, fervently, "than the things that our mediums 
 are doing every day right here in this country. Talk 
 about the old Bible * miracles ! they re not a marker on 
 what s going on in Fourteenth Street at our weekly 
 seances." 
 
 "I can tell you of something more wonderful than 
 that," said the white-bearded stranger, quietly, but with 
 a note of confidence in his voice, which, taken in con 
 nection with his venerable appearance, riveted the atten 
 tion of the company instantly. Besides, the Spiritualist 
 had mounted his hobby, and they had all had quite 
 enough of each other s hobbies for one Summer. 
 
 " And what do you know that is more wonderful 
 than the manifestations of spiritualism ? " asked the 
 apostle of that belief, incredulously, and somewhat ag 
 gressively. 
 
 " Hypnotism," replied the stranger. 
 
 "I Ve heard of that ! " exclaimed the Boston Girl, 
 with sudden interest. "It s going to be all the rage 
 in Boston this season, and would have been last, if we 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 had n t had our hands full with Buddha and Ibsen. Do 
 tell us something about hypnotism. It must be awfully 
 interesting." 
 
 "I have made a study of it for some years, and am 
 only now beginning to comprehend its possibilities as a 
 great and wonderful science." 
 
 "But what can you do with the aid of hypnotism?" 
 asked the Poet. 
 
 " A great many things. For example, I can hyp 
 notize a company of people, so that they will all speak 
 exactly what is in their minds, and by their conversation 
 disclose the very innermost workings of their hearts. 
 You have doubtless amused yourselves, this Summer, by 
 telling tales founded on your own peculiar experiences, 
 and very pretty stories some of them were, too, I dare 
 say. Now, if I were to hypnotize each story-teller, he 
 would prove infinitely more entertaining than ever be 
 fore, because he would speak the truth without affecta 
 tion or reserve." 
 
 " How very delightful ! " exclaimed the Boston Girl, 
 leaning forward eagerly. 
 
 "Does it hurt much to have it done to you?" 
 demanded the School-Boy. 
 
 "No," rejoined the Scientist; "it does not hurt at 
 all. On the contrary, I have been led to believe that the 
 sensation of being hypnotized is, if anything, rather an 
 agreeable one, and certainly I have never known any 
 one of the hundreds whom I have subjected to the pro 
 cess to make any complaint whatever of it. The subject 
 is seized with a desire to talk about himself; and, with 
 
4. HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 slight encouragement, will pursue that topic in a frank 
 and interesting manner." 
 
 " Let s every one of us be hypnotized, and tell a 
 story," cried the School-Boy. "It 11 be lots of fun." 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said the Rich Presbyterian, 
 devoutly, as he glanced toward the door with a view of 
 escaping, if the lad s proposition were acted upon. The 
 Boston Girl tilted her nose upward; the Western Girl 
 colored and giggled; the Detective looked scared, and 
 the Spiritualist shuddered. No one but the School-Boy 
 and the Scientist seemed anxious for the experiment. 
 
 "Wait a minute!" cried the long-bearded one; 
 " I hear our Landlord coming in to replenish the fire. 
 Ask him to join us to-night, and tell a story in his turn, 
 and I will sit back in the shadows and hypnotize him 
 without his knowing it." 
 
 The man of science seated himself in a dark cor 
 ner, away from the fire-light, but where he could plainly 
 see the faces of all the guests. The Landlord entered 
 with a cheerful " haouw be ye this evenin ? " cast an 
 armful of wood on the fire, and was on the point of 
 leaving, when the company, with one accord, bade him 
 to take a seat in the midst of his guests, and tell a story 
 in turn with the rest. Now the Landlord was a typical 
 New England tavern-keeper, who had been born and 
 brought up in a country hotel, and had been the land 
 lord of various rural hostelries for forty years. He wore 
 chin-whiskers trimmed in the old Connecticut fashion, 
 and had a soft nasal voice and a conciliatory manner. 
 
 The Hypnotist, seated in his shadowy corner, stroked 
 
INTRODUCTION. 5 
 
 his long, white beard, and fixed his eyes firmly on the 
 face of the Landlord, as he sat nervously fingering his 
 whiskers, and trying to frame some reasonable excuse for 
 recalling the past. 
 
 " I hed one curi us experience onct," he said, pre 
 sently ; and a faint smile lit up his face as he began : 
 
"/ w been a-keepitf tavern this forty year. 
 
THE LANDLORD S TALE. 
 
 " I ve been a-keepin tavern this forty year, Summer an 
 1 Winter, hot an cold, wet an dry, an I Ve hed 
 good business an I Ve hed bad, but the wust ever I see 
 wuz five year ago when I run the Eagle Hotel daown 
 Bethel way, an the law did n t allow no liquor ter be 
 sold. Wa-al, fur a time I got along the best I could, 
 sellin only tew them ez I knowed, an always puttin 
 on a mask an all that; but they war n t no money intew 
 it, an a big heap er risk. Then a feller opened a drug 
 store acrost the street, an right after that we hed a 
 religious revival, an some o my best customers hed a 
 change uv heart an quit comin tew my. place " 
 
 "Ah!" cried the Rich Presbyterian, "I am glad 
 to hear you bear testimony to the power of a religious 
 revival. This hypnotism is indeed a marvelous thing," 
 he continued, addressing the man of science, "if it 
 makes this liquor seller admit the truth that only the 
 power of religion can affect the profits of his nefarious 
 calling." 
 
 "Thet s jesso," the Landlord said, nodding his 
 head pleasantly; "ye see, daown aour way when folks 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 hez a change uv heart, they can t do no more settin 
 raound in the back rooms uv a hotel. They do all their 
 drinkin in the drug stores. Hain t ye never noticed 
 haouw all the pious folks in a country village 
 drops intew the drug store for sody an one 
 thing an anuther ? Wa-al, I tell ye a tavern 
 hain t got no chance at all alongside a 
 drug store ; an that druggist wuz a cute 
 un, I kin tell ye. It wuz him ez started 
 the revival an kept it a-goin , long after 
 every one thought the back-bone on t 
 wuz busted, by hevin praise meetin s up 
 tew his haouse ev ry other night, an askin 
 all them ez wuz converted tew stop in an see 
 him at his drug store, instid o settin araound the 
 back room uv a rum-seller, ez wuz a partner uv the 
 Devil. Of course, he done a big trade this way, an I 
 come putty near bein run aout n the business. 
 
 11 1 wuz a-settin up one night a-talkin tew my wife, 
 V sayin ez haouw it wuz putty hard fer tew hev all 
 religion on the side uv the drug store, an Satan with 
 the rum-seller, an not willin tew protect his own at 
 that, when she breaks in an sez : 
 
 " Why should n t we hev a revival, an revive 
 folks back from over the way tew aour own bar ? 
 
 " Mirandy, sez I, < thet s a good idee, an I 11 
 think on t a spell, an let ye know. 
 
 "The next mornin they wuz a feller by the name 
 o Lige Perkins come inter my place, an called fer a 
 drop o Medford hot. I gin it tew him, for I knowed who 
 
THE LANDLORD S TALE. 9 
 
 he wuz, an then we sat daown fer tew hev a little chat. 
 Lige wuz one o them critters that goes raound a-lecturin , 
 an a-play-actin , an doin a mite o doctorin here, or 
 gettin up a revival there, or mebbe raisin a church debt, 
 or peddlin an elixir o life he d invented an made 
 himself, that kep folks alive when they d oughter 
 be dead an , in short, turnin his hand ter 
 putty nigh everythin . He wuz smart ez chain 
 lightnin , tew, an could hustle along uth the 
 next one. 
 
 " What be you a-doin this season, Lige? 
 says I. 
 
 " Wa-al, I dunno, sez he; I think mebbe I ll 
 lectur a spell on the Converted Catholic; or, the Hor 
 rors of the Hoboken Inquisition. I kin make a sorter 
 deal with camp-meetin s an Sunday-school picnics, an 
 sich cattle; an what with hevin fellers in the crowd 
 a-sellin the elixir o life, I kalkerlate tew make aout 
 putty well. 
 
 " Lige, sez I, ye hain t never tried yer hand at 
 temp rance lectur s, hev ye ? Why not gin a few right 
 here in this taown ? 
 
 " They ain t a dollar in temp rance lectur s, he 
 says ; an onless ye kin make it an object, I don t see 
 nuthin in it fer me. 
 
 " Wa-al, sez I, a-pourin aout a leetle more Med- 
 ford, mebbe I kin help ye aout, if you 11 fix up the 
 lectur tew suit my business. He agreed, an we sot a 
 night for the show. The posters wuz stuck up sayin ez 
 haouw by my generosity the lectur would take place in 
 
TO HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 the ball-room uv the tavern. They wuz a big crowd, I 
 kin tell ye, an I did a lively business sellin em hot 
 rum an apple-jack, an one thing an anuther, fur some 
 on em hed druv in from the country an wuz cold, an 
 they wuz air dry, ez usual. Then Lige got up, an I tell 
 ye, he gin em a lectur . They 
 wa an t a word intew it 
 abaout taverns and bar 
 rooms, but he laid it on 
 thick abaout the evils 
 uv drug stores, an 
 the custom uv hangin 
 abaout sody fountains. 
 He spoke uv me ez a 
 public-spirited man ez 
 kept a genooine temp rance 
 
 hotel, an desarved the support uv all the religious folks, 
 an said that bein ez t was a temp rance haouse, they 
 could spend a social evenin a-playin set-back in my 
 back room, without bein suspected o tipplin . An he 
 said the temp rance drinks I sold wuz healthier an better 
 for em than the abominable concoctions they gin aout 
 in a drug store. I tell ye he gin a grand lectur that 
 night, an the result wuz I got all my old customers 
 back the next day, an nobody dassent be seen a-goin 
 intew the drug store after that. 
 
 " The druggist had tew sell aout, an then I got all 
 the trade. But I guess it s the fust time a tavern- 
 keeper ever got put on his feet by a temp rance lecturer." 
 
 The Landlord ceased speaking, and a murmur of 
 
THE LANDLORD S TALE. n 
 
 approbation went round the circle. There was a ringing 
 quality of truth and frankness in the tale that the com 
 pany found both novel and delightful. All were now 
 clamorous for another Hypnotic Tale, and each was 
 confident that when his own turn came, he would be 
 able to resist the spell which the mysterious graybeard 
 knew so well how to cast. 
 
 "Let s have a story from you, Signor," cried the 
 Spiritualist, and all eyes were turned toward the long 
 haired Fiddler, who was peering gloomily into the fire, 
 thinking about himself, as was his wont. 
 
 The man of science turned in his chair, and fixed 
 his brilliant eyes full on the musician. The latter yielded 
 to their influence. A dreamy look came into his eyes, 
 and he began his tale. 
 
THE FIDDLER S TALE. 
 
" You ask me for my story J said Signer TrankadilloS 
 
THE FIDDLER S TALE. 
 
 " Wou ASK ME for my story " said Signer Tranka- 
 1 dillo, Rome s Favorite Violinist. 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Signer," cried the guests, eagerly; 
 "let us hear some of your professional experiences." 
 
 " Very well," answered the Fiddler, whose real 
 name was Jabez Billings, and who had assumed an Ital 
 ian cognomen and long hair as adjuncts suitable to his 
 art; "I will tell you of something that happened years 
 ago, soon after I made my first reputation as a violinist. 
 It is a strange, sad history, and one which I shall never 
 forget, so deep was the impression that it made on me 
 at the time." 
 
 Leaning forward, so that the light from the blazing 
 logs shone full on his strongly marked face, with its 
 shock of long, iron-gray hair, Rome s Favorite Violinist 
 began his tale : 
 
 " Many years ago, although so vividly are the cir 
 cumstances engraven on my mind that it seems but 
 yesterday, I was seated in my library, engrossed in my 
 favorite volume, the one book which is priceless above 
 all others, without which I never stir from home." 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 "And yet," cried the Rich Presbyterian," they say 
 that professional people are not religious, and care noth 
 ing for the word of God." 
 
 " While I was perusing my scrap-book of notices," 
 continued the Fiddler, " I heard a knock at the door, 
 and an old friend of my childhood 
 entered the room. As he seemed to be 
 in a prosperous condition, I greeted 
 him cordially, and for several min 
 utes we chatted pleasantly about 
 our boyhood days, and those whom 
 we had known long ago. Among 
 other things, he told me of the sad 
 fate which had befallen a family I 
 had once known very well, and 
 who were, in fact, distantly related 
 to me. The father had died, after 
 losing his all in some disastrous specu 
 lation, leaving a widow with the care of five young 
 children on her shoulders. The story touched me, for 
 the father had aided me during the earlier years of my 
 career; but little did I dream of the climax to which 
 my friend was artfully leading up. It had been decided, 
 he said, to get up an entertainment for the benefit of 
 these helpless orphans ; and then, before I could utter a 
 word of warning, he asked me to appear at that benefit, 
 and play on my beautiful violin without compensation. 
 "It is only the true musician who can appreciate 
 the shock I received when I was asked to do something 
 for nothing. 
 
THE FIDDLER S TALE. 
 
 " I fell back in my chair, too pained and mortified 
 to speak. 
 
 "As soon as I found my voice, I said: My friend, 
 you know not what you ask? Are you aware of the fact 
 that I am a member of the Musical Union, and that an 
 awful vengeance would be meted out to me if I were to 
 attempt even to put rosin on my bow at a benefit? 
 
 " But consider the poor orphans! he exclaimed. 
 
 " I am a true artist! I replied, haughtily; and 
 never consider any one but myself. My terms are one 
 hundred dollars ; but as the case seems to be one of real 
 distress, and I have no engagement at present, I will 
 consent to appear on this occasion for seventy-five dol 
 lars, provided my name appears at the top of the poster 
 in letters a foot high, followed by a line stating 
 that I have kindly and generously volun 
 teered my services for the benefit, and will 
 render two matchless violin solos. 
 
 "My friend shook his head sadly, 
 and departed, leaving me indignant 
 and unhappy. The next day he called 
 on me again, told a harrowing tale of 
 the destitution of the orphans, and 
 renewed his importunities. 
 
 "At last, moved to compassion by 
 the pitiful story, I offered to appear for fifty-five dollars ; 
 but this did not satisfy him, and again he departed, leav 
 ing me in an almost frantic condition ; for, as a general 
 thing, the mere mention of the word benefit is enough 
 to unstring my nerves for a whole day. 
 
i8 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 "He returned to me a third time, and but why 
 dwell upon this painful subject? Suffice it to say that 
 at the end of two hours I, Signer Trankadillo, Rome s 
 Favorite Violinist, agreed to play at that benefit for the 
 paltry and wretched sum of twenty-five dollars. The 
 amount was so small that I forgot to ask for it in ad 
 vance, which is a ceremony that I never neglect." 
 
 The Fiddler paused in his narration, and buried 
 his head in his hands, overcome by the remembrance of 
 the bitter trials through which he had passed. His 
 auditors, deeply moved, neither spoke nor stirred, and 
 for a moment a solemn silence hung like a pall over 
 the group. At last the musician raised his head, threw 
 back his long locks of iron-gray hair, and, with a half 
 sob in his voice, continued his narrative. 
 
 "During the fortnight that elapsed before the night 
 fixed for the benefit, my proud, sensitive artist soul went 
 through sufferings which even now, after the lapse of 
 years, I can not calmly describe. It seemed to me that 
 the whole world knew my awful secret. I shunned the 
 society of other musicians, fearing lest they should point 
 the finger of scorn at me, and cry : 
 
 " We know you, Signer Trankadillo; you pretend 
 to be Rome s Favorite Violinist, and a member in good 
 standing of the Musical Union, and yet down in the 
 depths of your black heart you nourish the determina 
 tion to disgrace your art, and corrupt the finest feelings 
 of your nature by appearing at the benefit of some 
 wretched orphans for the paltry sum of twenty-five 
 dollars ! 
 
THE FIDDLER S TALE. 
 
 ro 
 
 " One day, while in this bitter, suspicious mood, 
 I was passing through the public market place, and 
 stopped to look at the posters announcing the benefit. 
 While I was measuring the letters with 
 my foot-rule to see that my 
 name was printed accord 
 ing to contract, my old 
 friend, Dr. Tannhauser, 
 tapped me on the 
 shoulder. Dr. Tann 
 hauser is a pianist and 
 I am a violinist, and so 
 it happened that, al 
 though we are both 
 musicians, we usually 
 speak well of each other. 
 I may remark, therefore, that not only is Dr. Tannhauser 
 termed with perfect justice the Trankadillo of pianists, 
 but he is also a skillful, persistent and conscientious 
 worker for the piano manufacturer who hires him to 
 puff his instruments. Moreover, he has given a course 
 of lectures on The Dignity of the Musical Profession, 
 which are spoken of in the very highest terms by all 
 those who have been fortunate enough to hear them. 
 
 "Well, Dr. Tannhauser tapped me playfully on 
 the shoulder, pointed to the poster, and said: 
 
 " What! a violinist volunteering for a benefit? 
 Well, Signer, you and I know what volunteering means 
 in our calling. I hope you make those orphans pay well 
 for your services. 
 3 
 
*> HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 "I thought he knew my black secret, and was 
 mocking me, and I returned home overcome with 
 shame and humiliation. 
 
 "At last the night of the benefit came 
 an awful night, with rain and wind and 
 thunder and flashes of lightning. Although 
 much depressed in spirits, I played my sym 
 phony in C. O. D., as I alone can play it. 
 The audience, which was not large, cheered 
 madly, and the other musicians who, like 
 myself, had generously volunteered their 
 services, tore their hair with envy. My num 
 ber was the last on the programme, and when I had 
 finished, the audience dispersed, and I went to the box- 
 office to get my paltry recompense. 
 
 " How can I sit calmly here and describe the scene 
 at the box-office window, when I learned that the re 
 ceipts had been so scanty that there was barely enough 
 to pay the rent ? The other volunteers had, of course, 
 demanded payment in advance, and stood in the lobby 
 grinning derisively at me. I begged, I implored, I 
 screamed for my money. Then I sprang at the mana 
 ger s throat, and fell, insensate, on the cold pavement. 
 " For weeks I lay on a hospital cot, raving about 
 my twenty-five dollars. After a while reason returned to 
 me, and I prayed that I might regain my strength, so 
 that I might pursue into their graves the fiends who 
 had induced me to play, and had then defrauded me 
 of my money." 
 
 Signor Trankadillo paused in his story, and wiped 
 
THE FIDDLER S TALE. 
 
 the sweat from his forehead. He was trembling with 
 emotion, as the recollections of his sufferings came back 
 to him with crushing force. 
 
 His hearers, too, were deeply moved. 
 
 "And did you ever obtain your just dues? " 
 asked the Representative Business Man. 
 
 " Did I ? " he cried, triumphantly. 
 " Did you ever know a true artist who 
 did not? I hounded those miserable 
 orphans until they paid me every 
 dollar that was mine." 
 
 " But how did they raise the money, 
 if they were so poor?" 
 
 "They jnade pin-cushions and pen-wipers, and sold 
 them at a little fair which they held in a basement, for 
 the benefit of Signor Trankadillo, Rome s Favorite 
 Violinist. In this way they did me tardy justice." 
 
 It was the Spiritualist who broke the silence. 
 
 "That s a first-rate story," he exclaimed; "but if 
 you want to hear something really remarkable, just listen 
 to me, and I will tell you a tale that illustrates the won 
 ders of spiritualism " 
 
 " Silence for the Spiritualist s Tale ! " cried the 
 Hypnotist, as he stroked his long beard, and bent his 
 gaze on the story-teller. 
 
THE SPIRITUALIST S TALE. 
 
" Ye hain t a-goiri 1 tew disturb my wife, 
 when she j laid there ten year^ be ye ? " 
 
THE SPIRITUALIST S TALE. 
 
 " \/OU DO NOT believe in spiritualism ; I can tell that 
 * by your looks," said the apostle of the other world. 
 
 "You would be surprised, perhaps, if I were to tell 
 you that it is possible for believers in our faith to raise 
 the dead to life. Nevertheless^ when you have heard 
 this story, which I know to be true, you will have no 
 doubt that it is within the power of a true believer to 
 accomplish this apparently impossible feat. 
 
 "At this moment, as I go back in memory to the 
 circumstances which I am about to narrate, I am more 
 than ever convinced that the whole story should be 
 written out and given to the world. I shall certainly 
 carry out this idea at once, and very much in the fol 
 lowing form." 
 
 Then, in a clear, even voice, as if he were reading 
 aloud, the Spiritualist began his tale, quite unconscious 
 of the potent glance of the Scientist : 
 
 " Mr. Gettit Easy was one of the most popular and 
 agreeable of the two-score of city people who made the 
 village of Wampum, Conn., their home during the Sum 
 mer of 1889. Of pleasant manners, with a mind well 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 stored with that sort of learning which constant inter 
 course with the world alone can give, it is not strange 
 that Mr. Easy succeeded in impressing not only his 
 fellow-boaYders, but also the residents of the little village, 
 with his qualities as a man of refinement and high stand 
 ing. In addition to his other traits of character, Mr. 
 Easy was an avowed Spiritualist, a fact which commended 
 him in the highest degree to the good people of the 
 neighborhood; for, like all the rest of enlightened New 
 England, Wampum boasts a large proportion of spirit 
 ualists among its inhabitants. 
 
 " Mr. Easy lingered at the village inn late into the 
 Fall ; and, after the departure of his fellow-boarders, 
 cultivated the society of his country neighbors with even 
 greater assiduity than during the Summer months. There 
 is a great deal of wealth represented by the families who 
 dwell in the large substantial wooden houses that line 
 the one broad elm-shaded street that 
 constitutes Wampum Village; and 
 it was with these families that Mr. 
 Easy sought to establish him 
 self on terms of pleasant inti 
 macy. Nearly all these people 
 are spiritualists ; some openly 
 professing their belief, others 
 pretending to despise it, yet 
 in their secret hearts believing 
 everything that an intelligent human being should be 
 lieve in regard to warnings and visions, and th 
 return to earth of the shades of the departed. 
 
THE SPIRITUALIST S TALE. 27 
 
 " It was to several of these new friends that Mr. 
 Easy one day broached a project which, for some time 
 previous, he had been revolving in his mind. 
 
 " Why not hold one or two spiritualistic revival 
 meetings, now that the days are getting shorter, and the 
 evenings hang heavy on our hands ? 
 
 "That was Mr. Easy s suggestion to the wealthy 
 believers of Wampum Village, with whom he now stood 
 on a very friendly footing, and it met with their heartiest 
 approval. Accordingly, a series of Wednesday evening 
 spiritualistic meetings was started under the special guid 
 ance of Mr. Easy, whose mastery of the mysteries of the 
 craft was universally acknowledged and recognized in the 
 village circles where he maintained his sway. 
 
 "The first three or four of the Wednesday evening 
 meetings passed off quietly, and with nothing to mark 
 them as different from other gatherings of their kind; 
 but, at the fifth meeting, Mr. Easy, in accordance with 
 certain mysterious hints which he had thrown out at 
 the previous assemblies, made an announcement which 
 thrilled his hearers to their hearts cores, and startled the 
 old village from its lethargy of a hundred years. These 
 are some of the words used by Mr. Easy on this memor 
 able occasion : 
 
 " < My friends, there are some mockers and scoffers 
 who declare that spiritualism is a fraud, and that we, 
 who conduct these seances and are familiar with the 
 many manifestations whose meaning is perfectly plain 
 to all of us, do these things for purposes of personal gain, 
 and that we do not really believe that which we preach. 
 
J,<f 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 " Now, my hearers, I propose to give the lie to 
 these aspersions, at once and forever, one week from 
 to-day, when I will prove to you, and to the whole 
 community besides., that miracles can still be accom 
 plished by means of help 
 from the other world. 
 I will prove to you 
 that the miracles 
 of the New Testa 
 ment can still be 
 performed; for on 
 that day I will go 
 into the cemetery 
 and bring back 
 the dead to life. 
 Yes, my friends, if 
 you will come with me 
 
 to the cemetery one week from to-day, you will see 
 standing before you in the flesh, clothed, and in their 
 right minds, the loved ones who have passed before you 
 to the better land. You will see your wives, husbands, 
 mothers, fathers and children ; and they will come back 
 to live here with you many useful, happy years. So 
 prepare, my friends, to meet them, and remember that 
 by their coming the voice of the scoffer and mocker will 
 be hushed forever. 
 
 " Mr. Easy s words produced a sensation in spirit 
 ualistic and other circles in Wampum Village that it is 
 difficult to describe. So great was the esteem in which 
 he was held that no one doubted for a moment his 
 
THE SPIRITUALIST S TALE. 29 
 
 ability to do all that he said he would. There were 
 many who were actually frightened by his words, and 
 declared that they thought when he tried to usurp the 
 prerogative of the Deity that he was going entirely too 
 far, and ought to be stopped by the town authorities. 
 But then, nothing could be done without the aid of the 
 law, and there is nothing in any known statute-book 
 which makes it a felony for a man to raise his friends 
 and relatives from the dead. 
 
 "The days wore on, and Mr. Easy busied himself 
 with certain mysterious preparations for the event of 
 Wednesday, wearing at the same time an air of cheerful 
 confidence, which more than confirmed the popular 
 belief that he would accomplish his task. 
 
 "He had done it before, on a smaller scale, he de 
 clared, and he could do it again. Certain necessary 
 preliminaries involved considerable expense ; but he could 
 afford it ; and it was his pleasure to spend his money in 
 proving to the world the great truths of spiritualism. 
 
 " On Sunday morning, while he was busy sending 
 a message to the spirit land, by means of a piece of 
 chalk fastened between two slates and then dipped in a 
 pail of water, he received a call from a certain Cap n 
 Israel Larrabee, one of the wealthiest residents of Wam 
 pum and a fervent believer in spiritualism, though he 
 had never had the courage to proclaim his faith. Cap 
 tain Larrabee was one of those men who, by reason of 
 their cowardice, are the very bane of all spiritualistic 
 progress. Unfortunately for our great cause, the Captain 
 was only one out of a very large number of timorous. 
 
jo HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 half-avowed believers, and if it had not been for these 
 men but I am anticipating. 
 
 "Mr. Easy welcomed his visitor cordially, and made 
 room for him beside the wood fire by moving the huge 
 table, touching it only with the tips of his fingers, to 
 the other side of the room, and bringing up a big arm 
 chair in the same easy manner. 
 
 " There s some on us ez Vd like tew know what 
 folks you be a-goin tew bring back tew life this comin 
 Wednesday, said the Cap n, after a preliminary cough 
 ing spell. 
 
 " I am going to bring back the loved ones of the 
 believers. That will be their reward for their faith in 
 me, replied Mr. Easy. 
 
 " Ye hain t a-goin tew disturb my wife, when 
 she s laid there ten year, be ye ? demanded the Cap 
 tain, piteously. 
 
 " Of course, I am, rejoined the other, warmly. I 
 will restore her to your arms, and she will comfort you 
 for many a year to come. 
 
 "The Captain writhed uneasily in his chair, and 
 then went on : Wa-al, there s Lisha Elderkin s wife 
 been dead this two year. Ye see, a spell ago Lisha 
 merried Sairey Doolittle, a cousin of hers, an a gal his 
 wife never could endure the sight on. She hed a pesky 
 temper, I kin tell ye. Be you a-goin tew fetch her back 
 ag in ? 
 
 " < Certainly, I am. Mr. Elderkin s a good be 
 liever, is n t he ? 
 
 <<The Captain said no more, and in a fe,w moments 
 
THE SPIRITUALIST S TALE. Jf 
 
 withdrew, leaving Mr. Easy to continue his preparations 
 for the great event of the week. 
 
 "Late that night, while he was busy producing 
 spirit portraits by Rembrandt and Copley, he heard 
 
 what he supposed at first 
 was a communication 
 from a dead author 
 who was calling him up 
 by ghostly rappings. 
 But the knocking was 
 on his own door, and 
 it came from the 
 earthly knuckles of 
 Cap n Larrabee, who 
 was accompanied by old 
 
 Ephraim Doolittle and young Bill Dyer, whose father, 
 Judge Dyer, had been dead about two years. 
 
 " It was Mr. Doolittle who opened the conversation, 
 by asking as soon as they were seated : < Mr. Easy, be you 
 a-goin tew bring them folks back tew life this week ? 
 <" Certainly, I am, replied the spiritualistic expert. 
 " Is my father comin back, too? demanded Bill 
 Dyer anxiously ; for he had been making the old man s 
 money fly pretty fast, and had no wish to be stopped 
 short in his fun. 
 
 " < Your father shall certainly be restored to you, 
 was the reply. 
 
 " I s pose, er-r, observed Mr. Doolittle, cautiously, 
 < thet if the place gets a mite tew crowded ye could n t 
 fix it so s ter exchange some o these old critters ez is in 
 
3* 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 the way here ? Naouw, fer example, there s my wife s 
 uncle 
 
 " Stop, Mr. Doolittle, cried Mr. Easy, lifting his 
 hands with horror. My mission here is to restore the 
 dead to life, and not to destroy the living. I have re 
 ceived my instructions direct from the spirit world, and 
 must obey them. I have already expended nearly five 
 thousand dollars in preparations for this great undertak 
 ing an undertaking which I supposed would bring joy 
 and gladness to the hearts of all my good friends in 
 Wampum. I find, to my surprise, that my proposition 
 does not awaken the enthusiasm which I hoped it would, 
 and 
 
 " I 11 tell ye what it is, friend Easy, broke in 
 Cap n Larrabee, suddenly assuming a confidential tone; 
 1 what s it wuth tew ye ter skin aout o taown ter-morrer 
 mornin early, an not hev no dead raisin at all? We 
 Ve been a-talkin it over amongst aourselves, an , come 
 ter find aout, all on us ez hez been afflicted is resigned 
 to the Divine will, an don t want no changes made 
 leastways, not that way. It u d make altogether tew 
 much trouble hevin some o them folks back in taown 
 ag in ; an ef you 11 name a figger I 11 see what kin be 
 done fer ye. 
 
 " Very well, replied Mr. Easy; I yield to the 
 wishes of my friends, and ask only to be reimbursed for 
 what I have expended. Spirits ! he exclaimed, < how 
 many thousand dollars have I expended in the prepara 
 tions for this resurrection ? 
 
 " The answer came back in five distinct knocks. 
 
THE SPIRITUALIST S TALE. 33 
 
 "Mr. Easy turned to his visitors: You hear the 
 answer, and as true believers you know that the spirits 
 do not lie. Give me back this amount and 
 I will agree to leave the dead un 
 disturbed. 
 
 " All right, cried Cap n Lar- 
 rabee ; we 11 raise it for you to- \ 
 morrow. 
 
 11 And they kept their word. 
 
 " Thus it happened, my 
 friends, said the Spiritualist, 
 that one of the most marvelous 
 manifestations ever conceived of 
 was prevented by the cupidity and meanness of half a 
 dozen villagers. 
 
 " But, exclaimed the Representative Business Man, 
 "do you really imagine that he could have brought 
 back the dead to earth ? It looks to me very much like 
 a fraud. Yes, sir; very much like fraud. 
 
 "Fraud!" cried the Spiritualist angrily; "that s 
 always the way with you scoffers and unbelievers. You 
 won t even credit your own senses, but shriek "fraud" 
 at the most marvelous of all phenomena. Don t you 
 suppose that a man who could produce paintings done 
 by the old masters in the spirit land, and move dining- 
 tables from one end of the room to the other, could raise 
 people from the dead, if he chose to try ? " 
 
 " It seems to me he made a pretty good raise from 
 the living," exclaimed the Detective; "and that reminds 
 me " 
 
34 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 " Silence for the Detective s tale ! " 
 
 Thus cried the man of science, fixing his eyes 
 firmly on the officer of the law. 
 
 A perfect silence reigned throughout the room, and 
 everybody looked hard at the Detective. 
 
THE DETECTIVE S TALE. 
 
long have I been a detective? he said." 
 
THE DETECTIVE S TALE. 
 
 YOU WOULD NEVER have taken him for a detective, 
 this stout, ordinary -looking man, with the high 
 shiny hat, dyed moustache and big watch chain. There 
 was nothing of the craftiness or mystery about him that 
 we expect to find in a professional Hawkshaw. On the 
 contrary, he was, to all appearances, a person of phleg 
 matic temperament and matter-of-fact habits of thought. 
 It would be hard, indeed, to imagine him following 
 clues, or putting on mysterious disguises for the purpose 
 of running criminals to earth. And yet this man was, 
 as he said himself, one of the most famous detectives in 
 New York, and was credited, moreover, with being one 
 of the wealthiest. 
 
 " How long have I been a detective?" he said in 
 reply to the question of the School-Boy. "Twenty years 
 this last Spring. How did I come to be a detective? 
 Well, it was nothing but a kind of an accident that got 
 me on the force. You see it was just after election, the 
 year we ran Barney O Brien in our district for Assembly, 
 and got him in, too, by the skin of his teeth. Of course 
 I worked for Barney, because me and him has always 
 
38 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 stood in together, and I was to have had a stall in the 
 market if Barney got elected. Well, a few days after 
 ward he comes and says that he s had to make more 
 promises than there was stalls in the market, and he was 
 afraid some of his friends was going to get left. 
 But you ll be taken care of, Rocksey, he 
 says to me; because I ll get you on "the 
 force," and there s a dollar there for a live 
 man when they ain t more n a dime in 
 Washington Market. 
 
 "And I hadn t been at the Central 
 Office three months before I seen he spoke 
 the truth. Twenty years I ve been on the 
 force, and followed up all sorts of cases, big and small; 
 but the case I m a-going to tell you about now, in some 
 respects beats any I ever tackled. 
 
 "One morning we got news there d been a big 
 diamond and bond robbery up in the brown-stone dis 
 trict, and as there was ten thousand dollars reward 
 offered I took hold of the case. I d been giving pretty 
 good satisfaction so far, and as business was kind of 
 easy just then I knew I d have plenty of time to devote 
 to it, and. may be, make a good thing out of it." 
 
 "Pardon me," said the Rich Presbyterian; "but 
 will you kindly tell us what the ordinary duties of a detec 
 tive are, and what you mean by business being easy?" 
 
 " Oh ! a detective s got plenty to do. He s got to 
 see it that the saloons pay up regular, and that all the 
 protection money is n t divided between the police cap 
 tain of the precinct and the Society for the Annoyance 
 
THE DETECTIVE S TALE. 
 
 39 
 
 of Criminals. When I first came on < the force there 
 was a few snoozers, doing business not far from Broad 
 way, that thought there was nobody on earth outside 
 the captain of the precinct, and that.it wasn t worth 
 their while to pay a dollar to a 
 detective. Well, we just 
 went to work, and closed 
 up a couple of em that 
 was dealing brace faro 
 games, and let the rest 
 know that police protection 
 was no protection at all 
 without we said so ; and, 
 then, they was glad enough 
 
 to change their tune, and come down every week, along 
 with the rest. I claim that the only way to make the 
 detective force really a success is to stand in with the 
 police captains, and then squeeze every precinct in the 
 city for the last dollar there is in it. The trouble has 
 always been with one side or the other trying to get 
 more than their share, and then getting to squabbling 
 about it, and closing up all the joints just out of spite. 
 The two departments ought to work together, harmoni- 
 ous-like, and divide the boodle fair and square. Of 
 course, the societies with the long names has to get a 
 whack now and then ; but, properly speaking, they re 
 not in it." 
 
 "Then, that s what you mean by business being 
 easy?" observed the Rich Presbyterian, inquiringly. 
 
 "Yes; that s something like it, and business was 
 
40 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 easy in the precinct I had charge of at the time I m 
 speaking of. When I first took hold of that precinct 
 it was the worst in the whole city. Dull as dishwater, 
 and hardly a dollar in it from one end to the other. 
 What little money there was there went to the police, 
 and the detective force did n t get a cent. Well, if I say 
 it myself, I worked wonders in that precinct. I gave 
 out that parties as wanted to do business there was safe 
 if they only came to us first ; and that we d use em 
 right and give em real genooine protection. What was 
 the consequence ? Why, in less than two years 
 there was faro banks and opium-joints and 
 other places running along at full blast. 
 They were selling policy slips in a 
 dozen cigar shops, and there was 
 a bunco joint that was a mine 
 to us, besides concert saloons 
 that give sacred concerts every 
 Sunday night, and saloons that 
 were open after one o clock and all day Sunday. 
 " Well, it s admitted everywhere that no man ever 
 worked harder to improve his precinct and build up a 
 business in it than I did in that; and with the streets 
 full of country jays, brought in by the bunco men and 
 the concert saloons, all the places coining money, and 
 the police and detectives dividing a matter of twelve 
 hundred cold bones every week, you might say that all 
 hands were contented and the goose hung high. 
 
 "But to go back to the story. This diamond and 
 bond robbery looked as if it ought to be a big thing, and 
 
THE DETECTIVE S TALE. 41 
 
 I was put onto it, because I d done so satisfactory in 
 building up the precinct. There was two hundred thou 
 sand in bonds, five thousand in cash and a whole lot 
 of diamonds taken. The bonds were not negotiable; 
 but the cash was all right, and, as for the sparklers, it 
 was an easy matter disposing of them. The reward was 
 ten thousand, which was enough to make a man hump 
 himself, and it was n t long before I made up my mind 
 who done the job. It was a particular friend of mine, 
 called Crooked Casey, who d been running a sawdust 
 game that was worth about two hundred cases a month 
 to us the year round. So I put a couple of men on 
 him, and, to make a long story short, in a few days 
 I just stepped into his place and asked him what it was 
 worth to him to have me drop the case, and give out 
 that the criminal had been tracked to Havana, but 
 here even the vigilant Detective Rocksey could find no 
 trace of him, and he is supposed to have fled to Europe. 
 "Casey tried to make a bluff; but it was no go, and 
 then he offered me all the diamonds and four 
 thousand of the money to let up on him. 
 He said he d chuck in the bonds, too ; 
 but they were no good to either of 
 us. They were unregistered United 
 States bonds; but the party he got 
 em from had kept a list of the num 
 bers on all of em, so they could n t 
 be shoved anywhere. The diamonds would n t 
 bring more than a couple of thousand at the outside, 
 and that set me a-wondering why there should be a ten 
 
42 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 thousand dollar reward for stuff that would n t bring 
 that amount. And just there I took a big tumble. I 
 went to the party they was took from he was an old 
 Jew, rich as mud and just crazy over his loss and I 
 says to him : I Ve got to have the numbers of them 
 bonds or I can t do anything more. 
 
 Well, he made a lot of excuses ; but pretty soon I 
 pinned him down, and got out of him just what I d 
 suspected. He d forgotten to take their numbers, and 
 he d given out that they were n t negotiable, as a bluff 
 to the one as took em, to keep him from trying to place 
 em in any of the banks. Then I goes back to Casey, 
 and gets him to give up the whole lot of swag dia 
 monds, cash, bonds and all ; and it was the detectives 
 that came in on that racket, and the captain ot the 
 precinct never got a smell of the dust. Yes ; I Ve done 
 a good many pretty slick bits of detective work in my 
 time ; but I think that s the very slickest I ever had a 
 hand in. And what s more, Crooked Casey is doing 
 business the same as before, at the old stand, 
 and giving up his two hundred every month, 
 and setting a good example to every one 
 else in the precinct. ! tell you, ladies and 
 gents, this is an Iron Age, and everybody 
 has got to produce." 
 
 A silence fell upon the Detective s amazed 
 auditors. The grey bearded Scientist was almost 
 beside himself with delight. Never before had hypnotism 
 elicited from any subject so complete a revelation of the 
 inner workings of the heart. 
 
THE DETECTIVE S TALE. 43 
 
 The Boston Girl, who looked upon the Detective as 
 a low fellow, did not quite understand the meaning of 
 the tale, and supposed it was all part and parcel of 
 vulgar New York life. 
 
 "Do let us have a story of refined society!" she 
 exclaimed a little disdainfully. 
 
 "Well, you re just the lady as can tell that story," 
 said the Detective, with an appreciative glance at her 
 undeniably trim figure. 
 
 She could not help feeling the force of the compli 
 ment, and her voice assumed a conciliatory tone as she 
 said, with a glance at the Detective : 
 
 "But at any rate, sir, your story was an extremely 
 interesting one so you d better not try to sell it to 
 the Atlantic." 
 
 The Spiritualist threw two or three pieces of dry 
 pine on the fire, and the flame leaping up illumined the 
 expectant faces of the guests, who awaited the Boston 
 Girl s Tale. 
 
THE BOSTON GIRL S TALE. 
 
" f iv ill confine myself to a description 
 of Bostoji society. " 
 
THE BOSTON GIRL S TALE, 
 
 SHE ADJUSTED her eyeglasses and carefully smoothed 
 down the creases in her tailor-made dress. The 
 white-bearded man of science fixed his eyes upon her, 
 and, yielding to the hypnotic spell, she began her tale : 
 " I am going to tell you of a very remarkable and 
 thrilling event which occurred in one of the most ex 
 clusive houses on Beacon Hill last Winter and made a 
 profound sensation in the very best society of Boston ; 
 and I can assure you that in those circles it is very 
 seldom that anything takes place that is in the slightest 
 degree exciting or dramatic. The scene of my story is 
 laid in the drawing-room of one of the most aristocratic 
 of our Massachusetts mansions, dur 
 ing a characteristic gathering of 
 the very best and most charming 
 people of the modern Athens. 
 You who have the misfortune 
 to live in New York, or in 
 places even further west, can 
 form no idea of what a really 
 exclusive social affair in Boston 
 
48 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 is like. It is not like a New York ball, where the guests 
 are selected solely on account of their wealth ; or like a 
 Western merry-making, where flannel shirts. and broad 
 hats are de rigueur " 
 
 "It s nothing of the sort ! " cried the Western girl, 
 impetuously. " You attend one of our select society 
 round-ups, and you 11 find just as much style to the 
 square foot as you will in Boston, or New York, either, 
 for that matter." 
 
 The Boston Girl raised her eyebrows gently, in 
 token of surprise, and then went on: "Well, I will con 
 fine myself to a description of Boston society, with which 
 I am so thoroughly familiar that my accuracy will be 
 above question. This reception was given by Mr. Hiram 
 Beeswax, who belongs to one of the oldest families in 
 Massachusetts, and is closely related to the Knutt- 
 meigs, of Hartford, Connecticut. Mr. Beeswax 
 lives in a beautiful old-fashioned house fur 
 nished in the Colonial style. His grandfather 
 was an old Boston merchant, who used to 
 send ships to the west coast of Africa, in 
 order to Christianize the savages and induce 
 them to leave their barbarous ways and come 
 with him to the West Indies, where he found 
 pleasant homes for them in the families of 
 planters. He owned a large distillery, and 
 amassed a great fortune by his trade with Africa. 
 
 "The reception was given in honor of Herr Rosin, 
 the third violin in the Museum orchestra,- and a great 
 favorite in society. Of course, the presence of such-a 
 
THE BOSTON GIRL S TALE. 
 
 distinguished musician filled the drawing-rooms with the 
 most exclusive and charming literary and artistic celeb 
 rities in the city. And among others was Professor 
 Gnowital, a very agreeable and accomplished man, and 
 one of the founders of the Wednesday Night Club. He 
 was talking to Mrs. Squeall, who gives delightful Russian 
 readings every Saturday morning in the season. It s 
 so pleasant to hear Tolstoi in its original tongue." 
 
 "But how many of you understood Russian?" 
 asked the Spiritualist. 
 
 "Why, we none of us understand it any more than 
 she does ; but it s perfectly charming to go to her 
 studio ; one meets so many really cultivated people 
 there ; and her readings have been very success 
 ful," said the Boston Girl, looking rather super 
 ciliously at the questioner, and speaking with 
 a rising inflection of the voice. 
 
 "But, to return to the Beeswax reception. 
 Another guest of distinction was Mrs. Hopeful 
 Squills, who made quite a furore a year or 
 two ago by hanging all her garments from her 
 shoulders and preaching all-wool health doc 
 trines to the Philistines of New York, Chicago 
 and Philadelphia." 
 
 "How do you mean?" demanded the School-Boy, 
 who had listened with eyes and mouth wide open; "how 
 do you mean she hangs all her clothes on her shoul 
 ders ? does n t she put them on ? Why, do you know I 
 should think " 
 
 " Hush ! " said the Rich Presbyterian, 
 
50 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 Te he !" giggled the Western Girl; and the Bos 
 ton Girl went on with a heightened color : 
 
 " I thought that my meaning would be understood, 
 and that it would not be necessary for me to go into 
 particulars. I will only say that Mrs. Squills is a very 
 accomplished and charming woman, and talks in a per 
 fectly delightful way about the things in which she is 
 interested. Mr. Fearsome Greer, another of the guests, 
 entertained us during the evening with recitations. He 
 reads Browning beautifully, and all the girls in Boston 
 simply dote on him. There was an unusually large 
 number of men present, fully half-a-dozen beside those 
 that I have named; and you ve no idea how refreshing 
 it was to see so many black coats in one parlor, all on 
 the same evening. Well, with such a large proportion 
 of men present, you can imagine how surprised we 
 were when at a very late hour another man, a total 
 stranger to me, at least was ushered into the draw 
 ing-room. But, bewildered as we were, we were totally 
 unprepared for the climax that, an hour later, followed 
 the appearance of that stranger. 
 
 "It was not long before we found 6ut who he was; 
 and, indeed, you may trust the girls in our set to learn 
 all there is to know about a man in about as short a 
 time as any girls in New England. 
 
 I had forgotten to say that Mrs. Beeswax had a 
 niece of hers staying with her at the time a rather 
 pretty little thing from the West, somewhere ; and, of 
 course, this reception was the first exclusive and intel 
 lectual affair she had ever attended in her life. You 
 
THE BOSTON GIRL S TALE. 51 
 
 might say that on this occasion she made her debut in 
 society ; and, naturally enough, she was very much awed 
 by the brilliancy of the company, if not actually chilled 
 by the hauteur of the guests. The truth is, the poor 
 child was simply impossible in Boston, and we all of us 
 agreed that it was best to let her know the truth as soon 
 as possible. 
 
 "We did it kindly, but firmly. We drew her into 
 our circle and talked about esoteric Buddhism, Dante 
 and Ibsen, until I really felt sorry for the poor child 
 she looked so red and uncomfortable. 
 
 " I was sitting beside her when the strange man 
 entered the room. It was dreadful the way she jumped 
 up and ran to speak to him, right before every one in 
 the room. I felt decidedly annoyed, for it is awkward to 
 be left sitting alone by oneself on a sofa, and it never 
 seemed to occur to her to bring the man over and pre 
 sent him to any of us. He was a tall, handsome man, 
 too, though evidently from the West somewhere ; and, 
 as I said before, in less than five minutes we knew 
 everything about him. He owned a mine, or something 
 like that, in the place where Amelia I believe that was 
 her silly name lived, and he had stopped for a few 
 days in Boston on his way to Europe on business, 
 he said. 
 
 " You would n t believe it, but before he d been in 
 the room fifteen minutes, he disappeared as if he d been 
 swallowed up ; and when I looked around for Amelia, I 
 found that she had vanished, too. This sort of thing 
 would never do in Boston, and so Sadie Applethorpe 
 
52 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 and I started out to look for them. We found them, 
 of course, in the conservatory, and we came upon them 
 very suddenly. I heard him speaking to her, 
 and his words were distinctly too distinctly 
 audible to us both. I had often read in 
 novels of men who addressed themselves to 
 girls as he was addressing her : but I never 
 dreamed that I should live to hear such 
 language in the very holy of holies of Boston 
 society. Sadie Applethorpe turned white. The 
 warning cough froze upon my larynx. I do not 
 know what strange force compels me to describe such a 
 scene before this very mixed company, but I must. 
 
 "That audacious man from the West was I. old- 
 ing both of that girl s hands in his, and was asking 
 her to marry him." 
 
 The Boston Girl paused, and wiped her forehead 
 with her lace handkerchief, while the company looked 
 at her and at one another without speaking. 
 
 It was the School-Boy who broke the silence: 
 "And what did she say?" 
 
 "What did she say?" exclaimed the story-teller, 
 rather snappishly. "What would any girl say under 
 such circumstances? She said YES, of course." 
 
 "That s a nice high-toned society story," said the 
 Detective, approvingly; "but there don t seem to be 
 much that s practical about you gilt-edged folks." 
 
 "I 11 tell you a story that s practical enough to suit 
 any one," exclaimed the Representative Business Man, 
 with sudden energy. 
 
THE BOSTON GIRL S TALE. 
 
 53 
 
 " Go on, then ! " cried the man of science, moving 
 his chair a little so as to get a full view of him. 
 
 And then the other guests settled down to a quiet 
 enjoyment of the Representative Business Man s Tale. 
 
THE REPRESENTATIVE 
 BUSINESS MAN S TALE. 
 
" l In fact, I did business on wind for 
 a long whUtS " 
 
THE REPRESENTATIVE BUSINESS 
 MAN S TALE. 
 
 "F HAVE BEEN KNOWN as a Representative Business 
 * Man for the past ten years," said the eminently 
 sleek and respectable gentleman with a black broad 
 cloth suit, on which not a speck of dust could be dis 
 covered. " Well, I certainly do represent a very large 
 class of business men, and what I have not learned 
 about finance and raising the wind during my long 
 business life is not worth knowing. 
 
 "Talk about raising the wind, why, I can remember 
 the time when I not only had to raise the wind, but 
 carry on business with it when I had raised it. In fact, 
 I did business on wind for a long while, and, of course, 
 always kept a big stock of it on hand for emergencies ; 
 and the story I am going to tell relates to that rather 
 exciting and interesting period in my career. I had 
 started a small trade paper called the Shoestring and 
 Coppertoe Gazette, and had fixed up a nice office down 
 town in the newspaper quarter of the city. It was a 
 beautiful office for a Representative Business Man, with 
 a high desk for the book-keeper I hacl an old man., 
 
58 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 with long, gray whiskers, to keep the books, because he 
 gave tone to the place and an iron railing, and a great 
 big safe in one corner to make everything look solid and 
 substantial." 
 
 "But did you have anything to keep in your 
 safe?" asked the Rich Presbyterian. 
 Why, I kept my capital in it." 
 
 "But I thought you told us you were 
 doing business on wind," persisted the 
 Rich Presbyterian. 
 
 "Well, that s what I kept there. The 
 safe was made out of paper stretched on a 
 light frame -work of wood, and beautifully 
 painted. The lock and hinges were just as natural as 
 life, and I tell you it was grand to see that old book 
 keeper fingering with the combination when anybody 
 came in the office. 
 
 "Well, I got in a pretty tight hole one time, and 
 though I tried every way I knew how, it seemed as if 
 I d never be able to squirm out. The paper was losing 
 money, I had my bank account overdrawn, and I owed 
 the printer so much that he would n t print the paper 
 except for cash. One day I was reading the < ads in 
 the Business Opportunities column in the Herald, 
 when an idea suddenly struck me. Why should n t I 
 advertise for a partner? I knew there must be some 
 thing in it, for I noticed that people kept on advertising 
 in that column, and the old < ads were dropping out 
 and new ones coming in, which seemed to indicate that 
 ggmebody was caught now and then. So I sat down. 
 
THE REPRESENTATIVE BUSINESSMAN S TALE. 59 
 
 and wrote out an < ad like this, and sent it in for the 
 Sunday edition : 
 
 " A conservative business man of long experience 
 desires to sell a half interest in a well-established trade 
 paper. Would like to communicate with some young 
 man of ability who can invest a few thousand dollars 
 in cash. 
 
 " I got half a dozen answers, and among the rest 
 one that I knew was my huckleberry as soon as I laid 
 eyes on it. It was from a Mr. Adolphus Grass, who 
 said he was a young man with some money of his own, 
 and a taste for writing. His friends had told him that 
 he ought to get his stories published in the leading 
 magazines; but there seemed to be a sort of ring in 
 all the magazine offices that kept new writers out in the 
 cold, and prevented them from getting a show. He 
 wanted to know if there would be any chance for him 
 to do any writing on the paper, and if I thought spme 
 of his stories would be of any use to a trade paper. 
 
 "I sat right down and wrote him that what I really 
 wanted was a man of refined literary taste to conduct 
 the paper, and write bright, clever things for it. I had 
 been thinking of running a series of stories, and had 
 no doubt his would be very valuable to me. I gave 
 him my address, and asked him to call at the office as 
 soon as he could. He dropped in the next day, and I 
 tell you my eyes glistened when I saw him. I could n t 
 have dreamed of a better man to have for a partner in 
 a small, rickety business. He was a regular dude in 
 appearance, and had a sample, confiding sort of face 
 
6o HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 that made me take to him the minute I set eyes on 
 
 him. He carried some manuscript, tied up with red 
 
 tape, under his arm. I took him right into my 
 
 \private office I never got so broke but what I 
 had a private office and told the old book 
 keeper not to let any creditors make a disturb 
 ance outside, and spoil the snap while I had him 
 in there. Of course, he wanted to see the last 
 number of the paper, and he rather had me 
 there, because the whole edition was down at the 
 press-rooms waiting for me to pay the printer s bill, 
 and I had n t anything but a five-dollar bill to my 
 name. I told him the paper would n t be out till the 
 next day, because the presses had broken down trying 
 to rush off an extra big edition in a great hurry. 
 
 " I talked to him very smoothly, and made a 
 mighty good impression on him, I know, for I saw him 
 taking in the solid-looking safe and the old book-keeper 
 with his gray whiskers, figuring in the big ledger at the 
 high desk. When he went out he said he d call the 
 next day with his father, and I told him to come in 
 the afternoon, so I could show him the new number 
 that would be out at twelve o clock. 
 
 "Then I made up my mind I d have that edition 
 in the office, no matter what it cost me. I sneaked into 
 the press-room, and stole a half a dozen copies from the 
 top of the heap, and started up the street for Findings 
 & Co., whom I d been working for a big "ad." I put 
 out the half dozen papers on all the news-stands around 
 the office, and told the dealers to give em a good show. 
 
THE REPRESENTA TIVE BUSINESS MAN S TALE. 61 
 
 and they d have a call for em. Then I walked into the 
 office, and tackled Old Man Findings, who was sitting 
 there all alone, as good luck would have it. The old 
 fellow s as vain as a peacock, and I knew just how to 
 take him, so I went in and said : 
 
 " Mr. Findings, I just dropped in to show you a 
 little personal notice I printed about you this week 
 no, don t be alarmed, I m not going to charge you a 
 cent for it. I just put it in because I thought your 
 position in the trade and your ster 
 ling character deserved some sort 
 of public recognition. 
 
 " And all the time I was 
 talking I was feeling in every 
 pocket I had, looking for the 
 paper which, of course, was n t 
 there. 
 
 " < Bless my soul ! said I ; < why, I find I have n t 
 got the number with me ; and it s very curious, too, 
 because I m sure I remember putting it in my pocket 
 just before I left the office. But if you 11 just let your 
 office-boy run out and buy one here, Henry, take this 
 dime, and get a copy of the Shoestring and Coppertoe 
 Gazette ; you 11 find it on any news-stand. 
 
 "The boy went out, and I sat there as easy as you 
 please, telling him what a big sale the paper had, and 
 how there was n t a newsdealer in the city that did n t 
 keep it on his stand. Of course, the boy came back 
 with the paper in a couple of minutes, and the old man 
 thought I must be pretty sure of the circulation, to trust 
 
62 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 to his finding it as quick as that. I took the paper 
 from the boy, and read the old man a notice that just 
 tickled him all over. I d laid it on pretty thick about 
 his long and honorable business career, his stately home 
 in an aristocratic suburb (he lived out somewhere near 
 Flushing), his acts of unostentatious charity (he never 
 let go of a dollar without there was a string tied to it), 
 and, most of all, about his being a lay delegate to the 
 Baptist convention. 
 
 "When I got through, he said: That s very well 
 written, indeed; really quite a fine literary style. Let 
 me take a look at your paper. 
 
 " He put on his glasses and read the notice over a 
 couple of times, and then he put his finger on a big 
 ad, and says he: How much do you charge for such 
 an advertisement as that ? 
 
 "Well, to make a long story short, I staid with 
 him till I got his contract and a check for one hundred 
 in advance to help boom the circulation, I told 
 him and then I skipped back to the printers, got 
 the edition out of their clutches into my office, 
 and went home feeling that I d done a good 
 day s work. 
 
 "I was down the next morning in 
 good season, and got everything ready 
 for the afternoon s seance. 
 " When Mr. Grass and his old gentleman came in, 
 I had everything arranged like a scene in a play. There 
 was the old book-keeper working away at his high desk 
 I d sent him out to get his whiskers trimmed, and he 
 
THE REPRESENTA TIVE BUSINESS MAN S TALE. 63 
 
 looked grand, I can tell you and there was the whole 
 edition of the paper spread out, so as to look as big as 
 possible, and three boys writing wrappers and pasting 
 and doing up the mail-bags. I tell you that office was 
 a hive of industry when the old man and his son came 
 in. Of course, I took them right into my private office, 
 where I could talk to them without being interrupted, 
 except when the old man came in, as per arrangement, 
 to say that the American News Company had sent over 
 for an extra thousand, or that Doem, Quick & Co. 
 wanted to increase their advertisement. I knew they d 
 want to look at the books of the concern, and as I d 
 been too busy to fix up anything for them, I began to 
 be afraid that I was in a kind of hole. So by way of 
 an excuse I told them the combination of the safe was 
 out of order, and I could n t get the books out. I sprung 
 that on them, and they seemed satisfied, for I promised 
 to have it all right in a day or two. 
 
 "After I d talked to them about an hour, and 
 made that young fellow think the chance of his life had 
 come, they started to go. I walked out with them, and 
 they stood in the outer office a couple of minutes, look 
 ing at the boys getting off the edition, and the old man 
 scratching away with his gold pen, and the big safe, 
 and all the rest of it. I tell you I was proud of that 
 office, if I never was before. 
 
 " I suppose you 11 get those books out to-morrow, 
 said the old gentleman. 
 
 " < Yes, I hope so, said I; < you see it s a very 
 complicated sort of a safe, and if it gets out of order it 
 
64 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 takes considerable time to fix it. It cost me a lot of 
 money; but if you re going to have a safe at all, 
 you must have a good one with all the latest im 
 provements 
 
 " Just then a band of music struck up in the street 
 outside. I declare, it makes me sick to this day when 
 I think of it; but one of those infernal boys made a 
 rush for the window before I could stop him, flung it 
 wide open, and in came the wind at forty knots an hour, 
 and just lifted up that paper safe and sent it flying 
 across the room. I never saw any people so scared as 
 those two Grasses. Then the old fellow 
 took a tumble, and he took his 
 son by the arm and walked off. 
 As for me, I just dropped into 
 the nearest chair, and sat there 
 while the band marched down 
 the street playing, Up in a Balloon, Boys. " 
 
 "You should have put weights inside the safe to 
 keep it down," said the Rich Presbyterian, gravely, as 
 the Representative Business Man finished his story. 
 
 "Well," retorted the other, "suppose you give us 
 one of your business experiences, and we 11 see whether 
 you managed any better than I did." 
 
 The Rich Presbyterian was about to declare that 
 his commercial ventures had always been of a much 
 more solid and respectable nature than that just de 
 scribed ; but the eyes of the Hypnotist were upon him, 
 and before he realized what he was about, he was 
 speaking the truth as easily and naturally as if he had 
 
THE REPRESENTA TIVE BUSINESS MAN S TALE. 65 
 
 been accustomed to it all his life. The other guests 
 listened with amazement as the man of piety, yielding to 
 the hypnotic spell, revealed the very innermost motives 
 of his heart. 
 
THE RICH 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN S TALE. 
 
" Once upon a time," 1 said the Rich 
 Presbyterian, I received an invitation 
 to subscribe to a fund . " 
 
THE RICH PRESBYTERIAN S TALE. 
 
 ONCE UPON A TIME," said the Rich Presbyterian, 
 " I received an invitation to subscribe to a fund 
 to increase the area of public parks in New York, and to 
 lend my influence to a scheme for establishing not only 
 new parks, but also a system of free swimming-baths 
 along the water. 
 
 "I need not tell you that, being a Rich Presby 
 terian, my conscience would not allow me to aid in any 
 such projects as those that I have named." 
 
 "Pardon me," interrupted the Spiritualist; "but I, 
 for one, do not understand why your conscience would 
 not permit you to support such an excellent measure. I 
 have always seen your name mentioned prominently in 
 connection with philanthropic undertakings of all kinds; 
 and, indeed, your reputation is that of a man who sub 
 scribes largely to deserving charities." 
 
 " My friend," said the Rich Presbyterian, turning 
 with a pleasant smile to his questioner, "it is evident 
 to me that you are not a New Yorker ; for, if you were, 
 you would know that in that city every great public work 
 that is a benefit to the people and the town is projected 
 
70 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 and carried out by scoundrels. Bad men secured for the 
 city its parks and boulevards, gave us the Broadway 
 surface road, the new aqueduct in short, so intimately 
 are all our improvements associated with rascality of one 
 kind or another that we good men are obliged to 
 hold aloof from all projects tending to the im 
 provement of the city. You never heard of a 
 rich and truly good New Yorker doing any 
 thing for the metropolis, did you ? Then 
 you can understand why it would be 
 unwise in me to allow my name 
 the name of a well-known Rich 
 Presbyterian to appear in connec 
 tion with such an enterprise." 
 
 " Pardon me once more," said 
 the Spiritualist; "but will you tell me 
 what a Rich Presbyterian is, and how much 
 he differs from a poor member of the same faith ? " 
 
 " The amount of difference between the two varies 
 according to the wealth of the one and the poverty of 
 the other, and frequently runs far up into the millions. 
 There may also be differences in creed but that, of 
 course, is a minor matter compared with money for 
 the term Rich Presbyterian is merely a generic one, 
 applied to wealthy and truly good Protestant New York 
 ers. In a true Rich Presbyterian he may be Baptist, 
 Congregational, Methodist, anything but Roman Catho 
 lic the spiritual and secular elements are artistically 
 blended. Above all, must he be particular in regard to 
 the outward and visible signs, which are of far more 
 
THE RICH PRESBYTERIAN S TALE. ^I 
 
 importance than the inward and spiritual grace. But, 
 to Continue my story : 
 
 "As I have already told you, I refused to con 
 tribute to the park and swimming-school fund for the 
 excellent reason which I have named to you. 
 But, as I was not averse to doing good, I 
 said to the young man who had come 
 to solicit my subscription : My young 
 friend, I can not conscientiously subscribe 
 to this ; but if you know of any really 
 deserving charity which I can aid with 
 out injury to my soul, I will be glad to 
 consider it. 
 
 "The young man promptly replied that he consid 
 ered himself to be a really deserving charity, and assured 
 me that money contributed toward his advancement 
 would be better spent than if applied to the swimming- 
 school fund. Besides, he added, <J only receive ten 
 per cent, of what I collect for that, and I would, of 
 course, be entitled to all of whatever you might choose 
 to give me for myself. Do you wonder, then, that I 
 am ninety per cent, more eloquent in my own cause 
 than I am on behalf of the fund for the improvement 
 of the public ? 
 
 " His mode of reasoning pleased me, so I said to 
 him : < I would like to help you, my young friend ; but, 
 first of all, you must show me how I can benefit myself 
 by so doing. 
 
 " He that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord/ 
 responded the young man. 
 
7 2 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 " Of course he does, I said; but while it would 
 be irreverent to question the security in such a trans 
 action, still I must remind you that in this case the 
 lender forfeits his interest by not receiving that credit 
 in the public prints to which a philanthropist is justly 
 entitled. For instance, if I were to subscribe to the 
 swimming-school fund, my name would appear in every 
 newspaper in New York as that public-spirited citizen, 
 or that estimable Christian philanthropist, or that 
 upright, God-fearing merchant; and I can assure you, 
 my young friend, that as a Rich Presbyterian draws 
 near to the close of a well-spent and pious life, all 
 earthly joys grow dim, and the one pleasure that re 
 mains to him is seeing himself puffed in the newspapers. 
 What, then, can you do for me in return for my kind 
 ness? 
 
 " Sir, said the young man, I have a little inven 
 tion that I think we might both of us make some 
 money out of. If you will contribute the necessary capi 
 tal, we will put it into a joint-stock company, and I 
 will take shares of stock for my idea, and also 
 manage the business. 
 
 " What is your invention? I asked. 
 
 " Here it is, he said, producing the 
 
 model of what looked like a child s toy. 
 
 A small camel was suspended in the eye of 
 
 a wooden needle, the eye being made so 
 large that the little image easily swung to and 
 fro through it, without touching either side. A figure 
 intended to typify the Rich Man stood near by. 
 
THE RICH PRESBYTERIAN S TALE. 73 
 
 " I looked at it carefully, and said: < I suppose this 
 is intended as a toy for children to play with on Sun 
 days, when their secular playthings are put out of sight 
 in the closet. Certainly, such a toy should meet with 
 a ready sale, for I have noticed that there is nothing in 
 this line on the market but the Noah s Ark ; and of late 
 years children have become very tired of playing with 
 that, and are clamoring for something new. 
 
 " But the young man assured me that it was not 
 a child s toy, but an emblem of a religious nature, de 
 signed expressly for the use of rich and pious men. < A 
 Protestant, he explained, can hang that up over his 
 bed where his eye can rest on it every morning when he 
 awakes; and just think of the consolation it will be to 
 him to see that camel sliding back and forth through the 
 needle s eye as easy as rolling off a log ! 
 
 "To tell the truth, the very sight of that little 
 contrivance made my heart leap with pleasure, and I 
 recognized at once its commercial value. Where did 
 you get the idea for this? I inquired. < You must have 
 been a close student of the Bible even to have thought 
 of such a thing. 
 
 " No, he replied; I can not claim to be a par 
 ticularly close student of Biblical lore. I got the idea 
 of this from a sermon I once heard. The Church of 
 the Whited Sepulchre was in need of a pastor. Several 
 well-known clergymen had been invited to preach on 
 trial, but none of them pleased the congregation, which 
 is as critical as it is wealthy, until Dr. Prairful Trimmer 
 came on from Connecticut with a discourse which showed 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 conclusively that the needle s eye was in reality wide 
 enough for two camels to pass through abreast, and that 
 it was always kept greased so as to facilitate progress 
 through it. This sermon made such a profound impres 
 sion that Dr. Trimmer received a call at once, and I set 
 to work on this little contrivance, 
 
 " I knew at once that there was money in the in 
 vention," continued the Rich Presbyterian; "and, to 
 make a long story short, I formed a company with fifty 
 thousand dollars capital, installed the young man as 
 manager, and began the manufacture of The Chris 
 tian s Hope, as we called it. 
 
 Before long, it seemed to me that the young 
 man was claiming altogether more than his 
 share of the profits; for, after all, he was 
 merely the inventor, while I and my 
 friends had supplied all the capital for 
 the company, and, of course, held the 
 majority of the stock. We consulted 
 together, and determined to freeze out 
 the inventor ; but he must have got wind 
 of what we were about, for one morning we 
 found the- office vacant, the bank account exhausted, and 
 only a package, directed to me, lying in the safe. I 
 opened it, and found a new arrangement of The Chris 
 tian s Hope, representing the needle going through the 
 rich man, while the camel stood by laughing. I suppose 
 the rich man was intended for myself, and the needle 
 for the young man ; but who was meant by the camel I 
 never could find out." 
 
THE RICH PRESBYTERIAN S TALE. 73 
 
 "Well," exclaimed the Representative Business 
 Man, who had been an interested listener to the story, 
 " it seems to me that both you and I have played in 
 pretty hard luck at one time and another. Now, my 
 theory is, that in order to succeed in business, you ve 
 got to start in by getting something for nothing. After 
 that, all will be plain sailing 
 
 " I ve been getting things for nothing all my life," 
 cried a stout, important-looking man, with a ruddy 
 complexion and a pervasive smile, who was known to 
 the rest of the company as Colonel Wind. 
 
 "Very well, then; tell us how you do it," said the 
 Hypnotist, as he fixed his eyes on him. 
 
THE GENIAL S TALE. 
 
" 1 1 have been a professional Genial 
 for the past six or eight years 
 
THE GENIAL S TALE. 
 
 YOU MUST know," said Colonel Wind, "that I have 
 been a professional Genial for the past six or 
 eight years 
 
 "Excuse me, Colonel Wind," interposed the Rich 
 Presbyterian, "but will you kindly tell us precisely what 
 a Genial is ? " 
 
 The Colonel cleared his throat, and pondered a 
 minute. Then he made answer in slow, impressive tones : 
 
 "A Genial is a man who lives, moves, and has his 
 being on a plane of false sympathy and bonhomie, which 
 he creates for himself as he goes along, in which par 
 ticular he is a sort of self-lubricator. He defrays his 
 expenses, so far as possible, by being genial and whole- 
 souled, by hearty hand-shakes, and by eulogizing people 
 behind their backs when they are sure to hear of it 
 afterward. Of course, he need not always be whole- 
 souled, but his face should resemble a sun-burst when 
 he meets any one who can do him a favor. And there 
 are certain persons in whose presence your true Genial 
 will always maintain the outward and visible signs of 
 Geniality. These are reporters, theatrical managers, 
 
HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 C 
 
 landlords, politicians (before election), and beings of 
 that erratic class known as wine-openers. 
 
 "When I determined to embark on 
 a career of Geniality, I sought 
 out my old friend, Judge Doo- 
 nothing, who has grown gray 
 in his profession, and has 
 a practice which em 
 braces every cafe 
 and bar-room 
 on Broadway, 
 from the Astor 
 House to Forty- 
 Second Street. 
 The best thing for 
 you to do, said the Judge, 
 
 is to get hold of a reporter, tell him some infernal lie 
 or other, and he 11 be sure to stick it in his paper. 
 Once get a start of this sort, and it s an easy matter to 
 follow it up with other stories. I tell you, Colonel, (here 
 he lowered his voice to a mysterious whisper,) news 
 paper men are the biggest gudgeons on earth. There 
 are a dozen papers in this town, and it seems to me that 
 they re run for no earthly purpose except to publish a 
 " Man-about-Town " column, or a " How-the- World- 
 Wags" column, or something of the sort. And what s 
 the object of those columns? Why, simply to make men 
 like you and me famous. After they ve made celebrities 
 of us, they ve got to go on writing about us every day ; 
 and when Sunday comes, you find our homely old mugs 
 
THE GENIAL S TALE. 81 
 
 grinning at you from every printed page in the city. 
 I tell you, old man, there s nothing equal to being a 
 Genial here in New York, if you want to get along easy. 
 Here comes a reporter, now; I 11 introduce you to him, 
 and ten to one he 11 give you a start. 
 
 " A well-dressed, alert- 
 looking man, who was stroll 
 ing through the cafe, stopped 
 to exchange a word of greet 
 ing with my friend. 
 
 " Sit down, Mr. Space- 
 rayt, said the Judge, in his 
 sonorous voice; you re just 
 in time to join us in some 
 thing. I want you to know Colonel 
 
 Wind, and I want the Colonel to know you. Then I 
 heard him whisper to the reporter : < Great character, 
 the Colonel. Everybody round town knows him. Full 
 of stories. Get him to tell you one, and you 11 have 
 something to put in your paper to-morrow. 
 
 "The next morning I awoke to find myself, if not 
 exactly famous, still on the high road to it, for I was a 
 Genial. Mr. Spacerayt had started me on my journey 
 along the corridors of Fame with a paragraph which 
 began: < Passing through the St. Anthony House Cafe, 
 the other evening, I found my friend, Judge Doonothing, 
 entertaining a party of convivial spirits in his customary 
 hospitable fashion, and listening to the stories of that 
 prince of raconteurs. Colonel Wind, who convulsed the 
 party with the following anecdote of life in Arkansas. 
 
82 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 The paragraph ended in this manner : < When the 
 laughter which followed the Colonel s narrative had 
 subsided, the Judge wiped the tears of mirth from his 
 eyes, and gave it as his judicial decision that the next 
 bottle should be on the veteran ; and a moment later a 
 suspicious popping in the vicinity of the table indicated 
 that the sentence had been carried out. 
 
 " From the moment of the appearance of Mr. 
 Spacerayt s little tale marked copies of which I mailed 
 to every one of my acquaintance my fame grew rapidly 
 and steadily, and within a year I had attained such 
 an exalted rank in my profession that no gathering 
 of Genials was complete without my presence, any 
 more than it would have been without the free lunch ; 
 and I could spend an evening and nothing else 
 in the most delightful manner at a table in a cafe, 
 and be puffed in half the papers in the city the follow 
 ing Sunday. 
 
 "The out-of-town correspondents seized upon me 
 with avidity, especially after Judge Doonothing had in 
 troduced me to them as a great character, which 
 means, literally, a man of no character at all. Horrible 
 process cuts, bearing a distant resemblance to my face, 
 and labeled, < Colonel Wind, the famous raconteur, 
 glistened in the columns of the contemporaneous press. 
 Managers sent me tickets for first nights, and welcomed 
 me to their private offices, where the critics found re 
 freshment. 
 
 " I organized the Uptown Genials Mutual Protec 
 tive and Promotive Association, and I am proud to say 
 
THE GENIALS TALE. 83 
 
 that it is largely owing to my efforts that that admirable 
 benevolent order is to-day active in its charitable work." 
 
 "Benevolent order?" said the Rich Presbyterian, 
 interrogatively; "I don t think I ever heard of any 
 charitable association of that name. With what particu 
 lar acts of mercy has it identified itself ? " 
 
 "Acts of mercy!" exclaimed the Genial ; "why, 
 we promote and encourage acts of mercy and benevo 
 lence of every description ; provided, of course, that we 
 are the recipients. Cigars, drinks, theatre tickets, new 
 hats, dinners, loans of ten dollars everything, in short, 
 that is the legitimate prey of the Genial comes in gen 
 erous profusion to the members of our society, which 
 includes, by the way, the most expert and experienced 
 Genials to be met with in the city. Judge Doonothing 
 is, of course, a member in high standing, as becomes a 
 man of his title; and I may add that nobody can join 
 us unless he can show that he became a Genial by a 
 sequence of events as natural and legitimate as that 
 which produces a jack-pot in a game of draw. 
 
 "For example, my friend, General Stuffe, is a 
 Genial, because at a remote period in his career he 
 was a militia captain in California. That entitles him 
 to the rank of General here, with full license to tell 
 stories of the Argonauts of 49, the vigilance committee 
 which he organized, gold mines which he discovered 
 in short, there is absolutely no limit to the opportunities 
 for reminiscence enjoyed by a California Genial. 
 
 "Another member of our association, Mr. Horatio 
 Hasbeen, was an actor once, during what he calls the 
 
 7 
 
84 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 palmy days of the American drama, a period which, 
 I believe, terminated with the Civil War. He is entitled 
 to all reminiscences beginning : I ve played a wide 
 range of parts during my fifty years connection with the 
 stage, but the greatest triumph I have ever known ; 
 or, The other day I met Teddy Booth, and he re 
 minded me of the time, etc. 
 
 "Well, our society had its headquarters at the St. 
 Anthony House, and we were to be found there nearly 
 every evening, lying in wait for any chance acquaintance 
 who might come along. We have withdrawn our custom 
 from that hotel, on account of the outrageous treatment 
 to which we were subjected a short time ago by the 
 proprietor and one of his wretched hirelings ; and it will 
 be a long while, I can tell you, before any of us will 
 darken the doors of that cafe. 
 
 "One evening I dropped in, as usual, and, to my 
 surprise, was very cordially greeted by the proprietor. 
 I was surprised, because, for some time previous, his face 
 had assumed a morose look whenever he encountered 
 me ; and once or twice he had sent a waiter over to ask 
 me if I wished to order anything, when he knew per 
 fectly well that I never entertained any intention of the 
 kind. 
 
 " On this occasion the proprietor of the St. Anthony 
 not only greeted me with the most marked courtesy, but 
 also presented me to a young man of a pleasant cast of 
 countenance and unsophisticated look, toward whom my 
 heart instantly warmed. 
 
 "Mr. Pointdexter, as the stranger was called, shook 
 
THE GENIAL S TALE. 
 
 my hand with much respect, remarking that he had 
 often read of me in the newspapers, and was glad to 
 make my acquaintance. He hoped I would join him 
 in a glass of something; and, scarcely were the glasses 
 filled, before old Hasbeen, who had been eying us envi 
 ously from a remote corner of the cafe, bore down upon 
 us, tapped me playfully on the shoulder, and was about 
 to pass on after a merry What, ho ! Antonio ! Again 
 upon the Rialto ? when Mr. Pointdexter begged that I 
 would present my friend. I did so, and Mr. Hasbeen 
 was induced to bide with us for a while, and have a glass 
 of whiskey. 
 
 "I had just begun a story of Arkansas life, to which 
 the actor listened with as much grave interest as if he 
 had never heard it before, when Judge Doonothing, 
 smelling the bottle from afar off, awoke suddenly 
 and beheld us. He took in the situation 
 at a glance, and, as soon as he could 
 catch Mr. Hasbeen s eye, waved his 
 hand, and bowed to him in the most 
 urbane manner. The histrion ac 
 knowledged the salutation in such 
 a demonstrative way that Mr. Point - 
 dexter s attention was attracted. 
 
 " My old friend, Judge Doonoth 
 ing, observed Mr. Hasbeen, pleasantly. 
 You know him, of course ! What ? Never 
 met the Judge ? Why, I supposed every one in 
 the city knew Judge Doonothing. You ought to know 
 him, for you d like him, and I m positive he d like you. 
 
86 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 Here, I 11 call him over. And in another moment the 
 Judge was with us. While we were in a full tide of 
 whole-souled Geniality, Captain Rafferty hurried in 
 breathless, and was closely followed by Mr. Stemwinder, 
 who is a Genial because he carries a trained rat in his 
 coat pocket, attached by a cord to his button-hole. 
 
 " It was eight o clock when I joined Mr. Point- 
 dexter, and at midnight there were fully a dozen of the 
 leading Genials of the city pounding the table as they 
 testified to the merits of one another, and becoming 
 very much absorbed in conversation whenever the waiter 
 came round. The pile of checks in front of our host 
 made him look like a big winner at faro. 
 
 " At exactly midnight, just as Judge Doonothing 
 was starting in with: Along back in the Spring of 55, 
 or it may have been the Fall of 54, when I was practis 
 ing law in St. Louis ; Mr. Pointdexter suddenly in 
 terrupted him with, < Bless my soul ! I d no idea it was 
 so late. Well, gentlemen, let s settle these checks 
 and go. 
 
 "Settle the checks? What in the world did the 
 man mean ? Did he expect a band of professional Genials 
 to pay for the liquor they had consumed ? Evidently the 
 new-comer was not familiar with the habits of the regu 
 lar frequenters of the St. Anthony cafe. 
 
 " Well, sir, said the Judge, pompously, we have 
 enjoyed your hospitality very much, and trust that we 
 shall meet you here frequently. 
 
 " I shall be here every evening, said Mr. Point- 
 dexter, smiling in a rather queer way, and absently 
 
fingering the pile of checks ; I have been engaged here 
 as the regular detective of the house, and have just 
 began my duties this evening. 
 
 "Well, have you detected anything yet? asked 
 Mr. Hasbeen, merrily. 
 
 " No, said Mr. Pointdexter; I was assigned to 
 this table to see if I could detect any one in the act 
 of paying for a round of drinks, but I have n t succeeded 
 yet. There was a great shout of laughter at this, and 
 on looking round I saw that the proprietor of the house, 
 three or four of the bar-tenders, and half a dozen waiters 
 had gathered about us, and were enjoying the scene 
 hugely. We left the room with haste and dignity, and 
 from that day to this not one of us has ever darkened 
 the door of the St. Anthony cafe." 
 
 "It is getting rather late, I am afraid," remarked 
 the Chaperon at the conclusion of the Qenial s Tale, for 
 
88 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 she did not care to have the Boston Girl listen to stories 
 about bar-rooms. 
 
 " But it s your turn, Madam ! " cried the Repre 
 sentative Business Man. " You must n t leave us without 
 contributing to the evening s entertainment." 
 
 The Chaperon began to object, but the Hypnotist 
 had fixed his eyes on her, and there was no help for it ; 
 she was obliged to talk. 
 
THE CHAPERON S TALE. 
 
THE CHAPERON, 
 
THE CHAPERON S TALE. 
 
 DO NOT really know," said the Chaperon, in a low, 
 sweet, high-bred voice, " how long it is since I 
 took upon myself the duties of a chaperon ; but it seems 
 to me now, as I look back, that I have always been a 
 chaperon. Even when I was a young girl entering 
 society, I displayed those qualities which late in life 
 have been conspicuous in aiding me to gain a livelihood. 
 Professionally, I have been a chaperon for twenty years ; 
 but for two decades before that, I was 
 a chaperon in an amateur way, 
 partly because I had several 
 nieces under my care, and 
 partly because I enjoyed 
 the duties and responsi 
 bilities incident to the 
 position. 
 
 "Unlooked-for cir 
 cumstances, rather than 
 choice, led me to adopt that 
 
 means of making a competence in a dignified, and, in 
 some respects, a pleasant way," 
 
92 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 " But do you mean to tell me," exclaimed the 
 Representative Business Man, " that a lady can make 
 a living among the gilt-edged nobs just by sitting round 
 at parties and knitting or one thing and another ? What 
 do they pay you for? " 
 
 "I receive a fee," the Chaperon replied, "for my 
 services in keeping a watchful eye on the young ladies 
 entrusted to my care, selecting suitable partners for 
 them, and seeing that they receive proper attention from 
 the most eligible young men. Moreover, I am enabled, 
 through my well-defined position in New York society, 
 to introduce young girls into a great many of the very 
 best houses in town, and to secure for them invitations 
 which they could never obtain otherwise. This gentle 
 man will, I am sure, testify to the fact that he has seen 
 me in some of the most exclusive houses in New York." 
 
 She turned her face toward the Detective as she 
 said this; and the latter, to the intense surprise of the 
 company, nodded his head in emphatic confirmation of 
 her words, and said: " Cert! I Ve seen the lady with 
 all the bong-tongs, and I can tell you she s way up in G. 
 I must say, though, if it had n t a been for her giving 
 it away just now, I never would have dropped to her 
 racket in the world. / always thought she was just 
 doing the genteel, same as any other party. Why, bless 
 you, we none of us ever thought of watching her! " 
 
 " But how does it happen that you train with that 
 high-toned, gilt-edged crowd ? " cried the Representative 
 Business Man, voicing the thought that was uppermost 
 in every mind, 
 
THE CHAPERON S TALE. ?j 
 
 "How do / get around?" exclaimed the hawkshaw. 
 " Well, I d like to know where you can go in the city 
 without seeing two or three of us men from the Central 
 Office. There ain t a real high-toned lay-out given 
 without we re sent to keep an eye on the silver and 
 diamonds." 
 
 "Indeed? " observed the Boston Girl, with a rising 
 inflection of voice and nose; " in our best society those 
 precautions are not considered necessary." 
 
 "Well, there s something to steal in New York," 
 observed the Detective, pointedly. 
 
 "But I am proud to say," continued the Chaperon, 
 "that of late years there has not been the same need 
 of your services that there was formerly." 
 
 "You re correct, Ma am," exclaimed the official; 
 "ever since the nobs got onter them slippery Eyetalian 
 counts and dukes and ornery-lookin English swells, 
 there s been less work for us and fewer things missed. 
 I can remember when those ducks never went to a party 
 or a reception without it was to win an overcoat or a 
 couple of spoons." 
 
 " But to proceed with my story," said the Chap 
 eron, in her quiet, effective way; "about two years ago 
 a gentleman asked me to take charge of his daughter, 
 who was coming to New York to make her debut in 
 society. Her whole life had been spent in the little New 
 England village in which she was born ; and, at the 
 time I took her in hand, she was as prim and as devoid 
 of individuality as the little old square box of a meet 
 ing-house in her native place. She was pretty, too, in 
 
94 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 a shy sort of way, and carried herself well much bet 
 ter than most girls in society for she had good blood 
 in her veins, and it asserted itself once in a while in a 
 way that made her look positively beautiful. 
 
 11 1 saw great possibilities in her from the 
 very first, and as I knew that her father was rich, 
 as well as ambitious, I determined to carry into 
 effect an idea which for some time I had secretly 
 cherished. I resolved to speculate in her. In 
 other words, I agreed with her father, who was a 
 shrewd New Englander, to make my professional 
 fees contingent on my success; or, rather, to 
 speak more exactly, the success of his daughter." 
 " And what do you mean by the success of 
 a girl in New York society?" asked the Boston 
 Girl, who had been a breathless listener up to this 
 moment. 
 
 "What could I mean but the one thing for which 
 all girls are striving, no matter whether they live in New 
 York or not? " rejoined the Chaperon with a significant 
 glance at her questioner; "by success, I mean an ad 
 vantageous marriage. What other form of success is 
 there for a young girl, I should like to know?" 
 
 She paused a moment to allow the rest of the 
 guests to enjoy the Boston Girl s discomfiture, and then 
 went on : 
 
 " I made her father a proposition which he ac 
 cepted at once. I offered to take entire charge of his 
 daughter s bringing out, introduce her into houses to 
 which I had access, chaperon her at balls and parties, 
 
THE CHAPERON S TALE. 95 
 
 see that her name received due prominence in the so 
 ciety columns of the newspapers, surround her with 
 eligible men only, and have her engaged to a bona 
 fide millionaire by the end of her first season. Then 
 
 and not until then I was to receive my reward, a 
 
 certified check for five thousand dollars." 
 
 A murmur of surprise went round the circle. 
 
 " Why did n t / get up some racket like that long 
 ago ? Heaven knows I Ve tried pretty near everything 
 else," sighed the Representative Business Man. 
 
 "Oh! that s a regular scheme among the bong- 
 tongs," remarked the Detective, with the knowing air 
 of one who is thoroughly familiar with the ins and outs 
 of society. 
 
 " Early in October, long before society had thought 
 of returning to town," continued the Chaperon, "Miss 
 Prudence came to me for a little preliminary training 
 before the season should begin. Many a foolish virgin 
 has been found with her lamp untrimmed when the 
 bridegroom came, and I was determined that this one 
 should not be caught napping if / were to have my 
 say about it. 
 
 "She was really a lovely girl, and so simple-minded 
 and innocent that I don t think it ever dawned on her 
 that her father had entrusted her to my care for any 
 particular purpose. I realized, before she had been in 
 my house a week, that, if she ever learned of the agree 
 ment her father had signed with me, she would make 
 it very unpleasant for us. Sometimes I actually felt 
 ashamed to look her in the face when she turned her 
 
9^ HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 great truthful, deep, innocent eyes on me, and asked 
 me to explain something that most girls understand as 
 well as their mothers, nowadays. 
 
 " The first step in the higher development of my 
 young lady was taken in the direction of the dress 
 maker s, and such an improvement, or rather such a 
 transformation as Monsieur Phillippe effected, I would 
 never have believed possible. I took her to a small after 
 noon tea in her new clothes, and, without exaggeration, 
 she attracted more attention than any girl in the room. 
 Very shy she was, with her eyes cast down and her 
 cheeks the most exquisite pink imaginable, for the little 
 
 Puritan knew that she was pretty, and I suppose her 
 conscience was tweaking her for being glad of it. I 
 remember saying to myself that afternoon, as I watched 
 her sitting with a cup of tea in her hand, and two of the 
 half-dozen men in the room trying to talk to her: <A 
 few weeks more, young lady, and you will be able to 
 hold your head up while you talk, if for nothing more 
 than to look about the room, and see how the other 
 
THE CHAPERON S TALE. 
 
 women are regarding you. And you 11 not think it 
 such a sin for a girl to look as well as she can, either ; 
 and by another season you 11 have the same ideas in 
 regard to matrimony that most girls have who are prop 
 erly brought up. 
 
 "It was, perhaps, a month after this that I took 
 her to her first great ball, and in the meantime I had 
 taken pains to have half a dozen of the most eligible 
 young men in town at the house to dinner, or an after 
 noon call, or to go with us to the opera, so that she 
 should be sure of some attention, at least, at her first 
 ball. She was beautifully dressed, and I can assure you 
 that she created a positive sensation when she 
 entered the ball-room. All the young men 
 whom she knew came crowding about 
 her, and her list of partners for that 
 evening numbered many of the very best 
 names in New York society. 
 
 " In short, Miss Prudence was a 
 brilliant success ; and if I had any doubts 
 of it they were dispelled when I heard 
 the envious remarks of certain old dow 
 agers, whose daughters had not attracted 
 as much notice as they could wish. 
 
 "But there was one thing that gave me more pleas 
 ure than anything else, and that was the fact that young 
 Marigold, old Peter Marigold s eldest boy, paid her the 
 most devoted attention, and that, moreover, she seemed 
 pleased with him in her shy way. If I had had my pick 
 of all New York there was not a single man I would have 
 
9 S I/Y/\\OTIC TALES. 
 
 chosen in preference to young Marigold as a husband 
 for my young lady. To begin with, he is a thoroughly 
 presentable young man, who knows how to dress, and 
 how to behave in society, and would never, under any 
 circumstances, disgrace his family by any of those ill- 
 bred eccentricities which so many young men indulge in 
 nowadays. Then, you know, his position in society is 
 absolutely assured; and, as for his prospects, mark my 
 words, when old Peter Marigold dies his estate will yield 
 at least three millions more than anybody thinks it will. 
 And this boy will get it all ; that I know. 
 
 "That s my idea of a suitable match for a young 
 girl. Give me a young man with a name that somebody 
 has ever heard of before, a round million or so to his 
 credit in good securities, and better prospects ahead, 
 and then, say I, where are your well-connected En 
 glishmen, or slippery French Counts and Marquises 
 in comparison with him ? 
 
 "Well, all through the season young Mari 
 gold was constant in his devotion to Prudence, 
 and when Lent came, and we settled down to the 
 quiet enjoyment of our sackcloth and ashes, I 
 contrived to have him at the house on one pretext 
 or another nearly every day. 
 
 One afternoon, it was near the close of the 
 penitential season, I was surprised to hear some one 
 walk swiftly through the front hall, go out, and close the 
 door with an angry bang. A moment later my young 
 lady came streaming into my room, scarlet with indig 
 nation and very handsome and spirited she looked, 
 
THE CHAPERON S TALE. 
 
 too, I can assure you and before I could lift my voice, 
 she burst out at me with : 
 
 " Did you dare, to make Mr. Marigold believe 
 that I would consent to become his wife ? 
 
 " Tut, tut, I said; I m sure he s 
 a very desirable young man ; but she 
 would not listen for a moment, only 
 burst into tears, and declared that her 
 father and I and the young man were 
 all in a league together to compel her 
 to marry a man she never could love 
 I wonder if she knew how near to the 
 truth she came, then and at last she ended 
 by rushing up to her room in a passion, and vowing that 
 she would n t remain another day under my roof. 
 
 " Here was a pretty state of things. I telegraphed 
 her father, and he came on at once, reaching the house 
 early the next morning, but not early enough, for she 
 had slipped out half an hour before he came, and I had 
 to receive him alone. 
 
 "I told him that young Marigold the best catch 
 in New York had offered himself to his daughter, and 
 that I would like my check for five thousand dollars, 
 according to our agreement. 
 
 " And what does Prudence say? asked the old 
 man ; and just at this moment a messenger-boy brought 
 in a letter addressed to him. He opened it, read it, and 
 then actually groaned: I ought to have known that 
 girl too well to have tried that scheme. I thought if she 
 went to New York she might forget all about him, but 
 
zoo 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 she has n t. The girl s got her mother s spirit in her. 
 Read this. 
 
 " He handed me the letter, and I read: 
 
 " John and I were married just now. 
 
 PRUDENCE. 
 
 " Then the mercenary old thing actually brightened 
 up a little, and said : < Any way, that lets me out on the 
 five thousand. " 
 
 " I m glad of it ! " cried the School-Boy, enthusias 
 tically, for he had listened to the story with deep interest. 
 
 " Well, Sonny, suppose we have a tale from you," 
 said the Representative Business Man, who did not wish 
 the party to break up. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said the Hypnotist, as he tried to 
 catch the lad s eye. 
 
THE SCHOOL- BOY S TALE. 
 
THE SCHOOL-BOY S TALE. 
 
 said the School-Boy, unabashed by the 
 attention of which he had suddenly become the 
 focus; "I can tell you a story about something that 
 happened up in our hall just before the holidays, and 
 made lots of fun for all the boys. You see, all of us 
 little fellows room in the same house with the Doctor 
 and his family, so he can get to us quick in case we 
 make a row, or get hurt or sick or anything. Well, 
 Deacon Drury has a room all to himself in the upper 
 hall where the boys rooms are 
 
 "Who s Deacon Drury? One of the teachers, I 
 suppose," remarked the Detective. 
 
 "No; he s one of us boys; only we call him 
 Deacon because he s such a solemn-looking fellow, and 
 always inventing all sorts of things for us to have fun 
 with. The Doctor won t let him room with any of the 
 other fellows because he s nearly killed one or two little 
 chaps by his patent gunpowder going off under their 
 beds, or their drinking some of his chemicals thinking 
 it was lemonade. So, now, he has a room all to him 
 self under the garret eaves, where he can keep all his 
 
T04 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 chemicals and mixtures, and where he works away at 
 his flying machine every afternoon when there s nothing 
 in particular going on." 
 
 " His flying machine ! " exclaimed the Representa 
 tive Business Man, incredulously. 
 
 11 Certainly ! Why not? You don t begin to know 
 what a genius Deacon Drury is. Alexander and Socrates, 
 
 and those ancients we learn about were nothing to him 
 in my opinion. He s all the time inventing things. He 
 made a pistol, all by himself, that exploded and came 
 near blowing Tommy Finn s hand off; and there is n t a 
 boy in the upper hall that has n t had his hair or eye 
 brows singed one time or another by the Deacon s magic 
 powder. He made a portable ghost with phosphorous 
 eyes, that he could fold up and carry in his coat pocket, 
 and most scared the life out of a new boy with it ; and 
 as for his flying machine, when he gets that ready, it 11 
 be a surprise to the Doctor and a good many other folks, 
 too, I guess." 
 
THE SCHOOL- BOY S TALE. ro - 
 
 " What s the principle of his flying machine ?" 
 
 "Nobody knows what it s like. When the Deacon 
 invents anything he shuts himself up in his room and 
 works away at it, and nobody ever sees it until he s 
 ready to spring it on the school. We re all crazy about 
 that flying machine, and Drury claims that, when it s 
 finished, he 11 be able to fly from the window of the 
 Upper Hall clear across the play-ground to the roof of 
 the school-house. It 11 be a big day for the Deacon 
 when he does that." 
 
 "But do you mean to tell us that the teacher of 
 your school permits a boy to go on preparing for an 
 experiment which will certainly result in his death ? " 
 demanded the Spiritualist. 
 
 "Permits nothing! What has the 
 teacher got to say about it, any way ? It 
 may be all right for him to boss us in 
 school-hours, but the rest of the time 
 it s none of his business what we do. 
 Any how, you don t suppose the Deacon s 
 fool enough to let the Doctor know what 
 he s about, do you ? No, sirree ! Ever since 
 he had his bombshell taken away from him, 
 just when it was finished, and he was loading it with his 
 own powder, he s been mighty careful not to let any of 
 the teachers find out what he s doing. He s built a 
 sort of a closet way out under the eaves of the roof, and 
 hides all his tools and chemicals and other traps in it, 
 so s nobody will find em. Why, it was the Deacon who 
 invented the combination suit for the Upper Hall." 
 
io6 
 
 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 "The what?" asked the Boston Girl. 
 "The combination suit. You see, if you re late 
 for breakfast you don t get any ; and there s always 
 some fellow who stays in bed till the last bell rings, and 
 then has n t time to dress and get down to table before 
 the Doctor asks the blessing. So the Deacon collected 
 enough clothes in the hall to make a medium-sized suit, 
 with a false shirt bosom under the vest that looked all 
 right; and he had the whole thing sewed together and 
 hung on a nail in the hall, where any fellow that stayed 
 in bed till the bell rang could jump into it and get 
 downstairs in time for breakfast. But by-and-by the 
 Doctor thought it kind of funny that the last boy 
 down from the Upper Hall always wore an old 
 corduroy vest, and had his pants rolled up if 
 he was small, and wore em at half-mast if 
 he was a big fellow ; so he took a tumble, 
 and the combination suit was barred out. 
 Then we told the Deacon he d got to in 
 vent something that u d beat the combina 
 tion suit ; and he hid in his den for a week, 
 and we did n t see anything of him at all. 
 At last, one night while we were all sitting 
 around the stove, rubbing ourselves with Pond s 
 Extract, for we d been playing shinny all the afternoon, 
 the Deacon came out of his room, and says he : 
 
 "<Well, fellows, I guess I Ve got it this time, sure. 
 " What is it? says all of us at once. 
 " < The biggest thing I ever invented next to the 
 flying machine. 
 
THE SCHOOL -BOY S TALE. 107 
 
 " Look out or it ll explode! sings out Tommy 
 Finn; and, of course, we all burst out laughing; but 
 the Deacon did n t mind it a bit. He don t care whether 
 we laugh at him or not; just pegs along in his own 
 queer way, same as if nobody said anything to him 
 
 at all. 
 
 " This thing of mine, said the Deacon, I m 
 going to patent and sell all over the country 
 Every boarding-school in the land ought to 
 have one. I call it a Doctor-Catcher. 
 And then he goes in his room and fetches 
 out a great Long wire, with some queer 
 fixings at one end of it, and an old 
 dinner-bell at the other. Now, says 
 the Deacon, you know that loose 
 step down near the bottom of the 
 staircase, just before you reach the 
 dining-room door. Well, when the 
 Doctor comes upstairs he always comes 
 up slow and deliberate, one step at a time. 
 
 " Not when he hears an explosion in your room/ 
 puts in Tommy Finn ; and then we all began to laugh 
 again. 
 
 Well, goes on the Deacon, this contrivance is 
 attached to the loose stair, so that when the Doctor steps 
 on it, the wire rings the dinner-bell upstairs, and we 
 know he s coming. Now we 11 take a screw-driver and 
 some screws and go down to fasten it, just to see how it 
 will work. 
 
 "It took an awful lot of trouble to get the wire 
 
io8 HYPNOTIC TALES. 
 
 fixed so it would n t be noticed; but at last we got it all 
 right ; and when the Doctor came upstairs that evening 
 we heard the bell ring long before he was halfway up. 
 That gave us plenty of time to hustle into bed, and be 
 asleep and snoring when he got to the rooms. So, of 
 course, we all said the Deacon s Doctor-Catcher was a 
 big thing ; and we made a rule in the Hall that any 
 fellow who trod on the loose step in the staircase was to 
 get three boots around, so we would n t have any false 
 alarm. 
 
 "Well, everything went along first-rate for some 
 time ; and I guess the Doctor must have thought it 
 mighty queer that, no matter how quietly he came up 
 stairs, everybody was still as a mouse when he reached 
 the place. We all of us saved a lot of bad marks, be 
 cause, no matter what we might be doing, we never got 
 caught. But one morning the Deacon stayed in bed till 
 the last bell rang, hopped up in a great hurry, and 
 jumped into the combination suit, because he did n t 
 have time to put his own clothes on ; then started down 
 stairs on the dead-run. How he did it, I don t know, 
 but somehow he managed to catch his foot in the wire, 
 and the first thing we knew, while we were all sitting at 
 breakfast, we heard a fearful noise outside, and then the 
 door burst open and the Deacon came tumbling in and 
 fell full length on the floor, and you could hear the old 
 dinner-bell a-rattling down the stairs behind him. 
 
 " We all burst out laughing, while the Deacon 
 picked himself up and began getting his feet out of the 
 wire. 
 
THE SCHOOL- BOY S TALE. fo 9 
 
 " Drury, says the Doctor, kinder quick and mad 
 like, come here to me at once; and the Deacon 
 started, gave another pull to the wire, and down came 
 the dinner-bell rattling and jangling right on to the 
 dining-room floor. I don t know which looked most 
 surprised, the Deacon or the Doctor. 
 
 " < What s that bell? says the Doctor. 
 
 11 That s the bell that rings when anybody s com 
 ing upstairs, sir. 
 
 " i Then you 11 have ten marks for ringing it on 
 the way down, says the Doctor; and that was the last 
 of the Doctor-Catcher." 
 
 "Good night," came from everyone; and in a few 
 minutes the fire, burning low on the hearth, shone on 
 an array of empty chairs. 
 
 " It s a curious fact," said the Hypnotist, as the 
 company separated for the night, " but I could n t hyp 
 notize that boy at all. He told the truth naturally and 
 of his own volition. Very different from the rest of you." 
 
OTHER TALES. 
 
THE BUNCO-STEERER S CHRISTMAS. 
 
 TN A NEAT BUT HUMBLE ROOM on the east side of the 
 1 city, Mary Sawdust sat with her sewing on her lap, 
 and her children playing on the floor beside her. There 
 were traces of tears on her young face, and a quiver 
 in her lip as she diligently plied her needle, for 
 it lacked but two days of Christmas, and 
 she had no money with which to buy 
 presents for her little ones. 
 
 " Mama," said little Ethel, sud 
 denly, placing her hand on 
 her mother s knee, " do 
 you think kind Papa has 
 -. caught a sucker on 
 
 the Bridge to-day?" 
 "I do not know, 
 darling," replied 
 Mary Sawdust ; 
 "we must hope 
 for the best; but 
 if he has, he will 
 work him for all he is worth." 
 
H4 OTHER TALES. 
 
 She turned to her work again with a deep sigh, 
 and little Ethel ran off to join her brother Willie in a 
 merry game of " Catch the Jay." 
 
 It was late when Henry Sawdust returned to his 
 home, wearied with his hard day s work on the Brooklyn 
 Bridge. As he hung his dinner pail on its accustomed 
 hook, and threw himself into a chair, his faithful wife 
 noticed that his cheeks wore a hectic flush, while there 
 was a strange glitter in his eyes. 
 
 "It is nothing," he said; "it will pass off." But 
 the next morning he awoke in a raging fever, and poor 
 Mary Sawdust realized that her Christmas was likely to 
 be a sadder one than she had looked forward to. 
 
 "You must be very quiet to-day, little ones," said 
 she to her children, "for Papa is very sick, and I can 
 not leave his bedside." 
 
 Little Willie was still and thoughtful for some time 
 after his mother left the room. Then he said softly to his 
 sister: "I wish I were a big man, so that I might help 
 Papa while he is sick. I have often asked him to let me go 
 with him to carry the gold brick and the directory of 
 bank cashiers, but he says I am too little. I know what 
 I will do. I will go out on the Bridge, and try to win a 
 roll. Oh, how pleased Mama will be if I succeed ; and 
 what nice Christmas presents we would get ! " 
 
 Putting on his little ulster and hat, he set forth on 
 his mission. As he was walking down the Bowery, he 
 encountered a man who wore a broad hat and a coat of 
 quaint pattern, and carried in his left hand an old-fash 
 ioned carpet-bag. 
 
THE BUNCO-STEERER S CHRISTMAS. 
 
 "Please, sir," said the child, clasping the stranger s 
 right hand in his slender fingers, "how are all the folks 
 in Chenango ?" 
 
 "Hey! what!" gasped the astonished provincial, 
 turning his gaze from the tops of the houses to the child 
 ish face before him. 
 
 "Oh, sir," continued little Willie, "poor Papa is 
 sick, and I am trying to earn money enough to buy him 
 a new ulster, and some dye for his moustache. Won t 
 you please let me steer you into the joint ? I am such 
 a little boy that I can not work you myself; but Thirsty 
 Bill, Papa s friencl, is there, and he can win a sucker s 
 roll every time in great shape." 
 
 "Well, I swan!" exclaimed the stranger; "I ve 
 
rrfi OTHER TALES. 
 
 had em try this on me every time I ve come to town 
 for the last ten years ; but this is the youngest one I ever 
 seen in the business." 
 
 "Oh, sir," pleaded the child; "Christmas is com 
 ing, and we have no presents ! Papa is ill, and so poor 
 that he had no benzine to put on his silker yesterday 
 when he went out on the Bridge. Won t you please 
 come and be buncoed, and then dear Mama will be so 
 happy." 
 
 The stranger seemed deeply moved by Willie s 
 simple tale. 
 
 "Take me home with you, child," he said, "and I 
 will try to help you." 
 
 In a few minutes he was standing in Henry Saw 
 dust s cheerful parlor, talking to the faithful wife, and 
 learning from her lips the story of their poverty and 
 suffering. "Would you like to see my husband?" she 
 said, leading the way to the little bedroom. 
 
 The sick man stirred uneasily on his cot as they 
 entered, and feebly murmured: "Ah! do my eyes de 
 ceive me? Can this be my old friend Mr. Johnson, of 
 Elmira ? " 
 
 The stranger turned aside and wiped his eyes. 
 
 " Madam," he said, " I have been the President of 
 a Hartford Insurance Company for twenty years ; but 
 this sight has completely unmanned me. And to think 
 of your two innocent babes not having any Christmas 
 presents ! Well, it shall never be said of Hiram Duzen- 
 bury that he did n t do at least one generous act in 
 his life." 
 
THE BUNCO-STEERER S CHRISTMAS. 
 
 117 
 
 He turned to the sick man and said gently: " Yes, 
 I am Mr. Johnson of Elmira, and I met you at your 
 uncle s bank. Hush ! Do not try to speak, for you are 
 not strong enough yet. I want a gold brick I deal in 
 em when I m home ; and I want to see the prize you Ye 
 drawn in the lottery, and the picture you painted in 
 Paris. A 3 nd when you re better we 11 see the town to 
 gether. Meantime take this and credit me with the 
 usual cash discount." 
 
 He laid five crisp hundred-dollar bills on the cover 
 let, then grasped his carpet-bag and departed before 
 Mary Sawdust could collect her scattered senses. 
 
 And on Christmas Day the children gathered about 
 the beautiful tree, and gave thanks to the kind stranger 
 who had buncoed himself that they might be happy. 
 
ALADDIN. 
 
 "NCE UPON A TIME there was a 
 little boy named Aladdin who 
 preferred to play hookey" 
 rather than to go to school 
 and improve his mind. One 
 day while he was playing 
 in a vacant lot, a stranger 
 approached him and said : 
 Are you not the son of Musty 
 Furr, the tailor? " 
 
 The boy replied that he was, 
 and added that he went to "Thir- 
 teenses " school, but had taken a 
 holiday that day on account of a birth 
 in the family. 
 
 "Then," exclaimed the stranger, " I am your long 
 lost uncle; for i, too, went to Thirteenses , and stayed 
 away whenever there was a birth, death or marriage in 
 the family." 
 
 The next day the stranger came to the little boy, 
 
I20 OTHER TALES. 
 
 and told him that he was a magician with a little open 
 time on his hands, owing to the fact that the company 
 with which he had been traveling was "resting" that 
 week on Union Square. And the magician took the boy 
 to a wild gulch on Orange Mountain, and bade him enter 
 a dark cavern and bring him an old lamp which he would 
 find there. The boy found the lamp, and made his 
 escape with it through a cleft in the rock, leaving the 
 fakir sitting by the cave, and wondering why he did 
 not appear. 
 
 Aladdin started for New York on foot ; but before 
 he had gone very far he concluded to stop and polish up 
 the lamp, in order that it might bring a better price in 
 the junk-shop. So he sat down by the roadside, moist 
 ened his handkerchief, and began to scour the old cop 
 per lamp. But the moment he began to rub, the ground 
 seemed to open before him, and there appeared a crea 
 ture which he recognized at once as a Genie. 
 
 "What do you want?" demanded the Genie. 
 
 "I want to get back to New York," gasped the 
 astonished boy. 
 
 " Not an unusual wish in this neighborhood," re 
 plied the strange creature, as he seized Aladdin by the 
 coat collar and deposited him the next minute in front 
 of his mother s door. He was afraid to go in, because 
 he had been away so long; and, as he hesitated, he took 
 his handkerchief from his pocket and began to polish up 
 the lamp, which he still carried under his arm. Instantly 
 the Genie appeared in a puff of queer-smelling smoke, 
 and demanded ; 
 
ALADDIN.- 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 " Something to square me with me mother," re 
 plied Aladdin ; and in a moment the Genie placed in his 
 arms a . huge bundle of kindling-wood, such as boys 
 gather about new buildings. 
 
 Aladdin entered the house and gave his mother an 
 account of his adventures. He showed her the wonderful 
 
122 OTHER TALES. 
 
 lamp, and explained its properties. After that, they lived 
 happily for a number of years, depending on the lamp 
 for whatever they wanted to eat, drink or wear. 
 
 And when the youth was in his twentieth year he 
 attended the picnic of the Dennis Mahoney Association, 
 and there beheld the beautiful Miss Maude Mahoney, 
 the daughter of the eminent politician. And Aladdin 
 fell in love with her at once, and went home and told 
 his mother that he must marry her. But the old lady 
 laughed him to scorn, saying that it would be useless for 
 him to woo the child of the proud chief of the Public 
 Manger, the man with the big "pull" at Albany. 
 
 Nevertheless, the young man went down to the 
 Public Manger office the next day, and waited in the 
 ante-room, in company with a number of gentlemen who 
 desired employment "on the big pipes," and some oth 
 ers who wished to sell tickets for balls and target excur 
 sions, for election day was not far off. And when he was 
 admitted to the presence of the "boss," he said to him 1 . 
 " Sir, I would like to marry your daughter." 
 
 "What ! " exclaimed Mr. Mahoney scornfully. "My 
 daughter marry a young man without a pull in his dis 
 trict ! In what sort of style would you support her? " 
 
 "Meet me to-morrow at the Jersey City Ferry in 
 time for the 10:03 train, and I will show you," was the 
 answer. 
 
 And the politician reached the ferry-house at 9:48 
 
 so great was his anxiety and had time to get the 
 
 West Street mud scraped off his boots before Aladdin 
 
 Arrived, The 10:03 train tool^ them to a hill which 
 
ALADDIN. 123 
 
 overlooked the romantic plains lying between Newark 
 and Jersey City. And within five minutes walk of the 
 station they found a splendid palace lit by electricity, 
 heated by steam, and containing all the other modern 
 improvements. The Genie met them at the door, and 
 conducted them through the whole house, from top to 
 bottom, finally leading them to the dining-room, where 
 they "had something" out of a square wicker-covered 
 bottle. 
 
 When the politician saw this beautiful palace he 
 exclaimed: "Why, this mansion is for all the world 
 like one described in a volume of fairy tales called 
 1 Picturesque Homes on the Erie ! 
 
 So he gave his consent to his daughter s marriage, 
 and the ceremony took place the following day amid 
 great pomp and splendor. And Aladdin s palace became 
 the envy and admiration of all the people for many 
 suburbs around. All the best families called on the 
 young couple, and when Aladdin and his bride gave a 
 grand house-warming the wonder of his guests knew 
 no bounds: for they saw that the chimneys all drew 
 properly, that the front door could be slammed on a 
 book-agent without menace to the glass jars in the cellar, 
 that the fire never languished in the furnace, and most 
 marvelous of all that the electric door -bell always 
 worked. 
 
 These miracles were, of course, brought about by 
 the Genie, who spent his entire time in the palace attend 
 ing to the various details of housekeeping. By the use 
 of his magic arts he performed feats that were the talk 
 
124 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 of the whole region around. He compelled farmers to 
 sell him fresh vegetables and eggs of recent origin for 
 very little more than they could realize by trucking 
 them to New York, a dozen miles away. He could in 
 duce a native to spade up the garden, mend the fence or 
 whitewash the hen-house; and that, too, at the very 
 height of the fishing season. In short, there 
 was absolutely nothing that the Genie could 
 not accomplish. 
 
 Meanwhile the magician who had first taken 
 Aladdin to the cave of the wonderful 
 lamp had been playing in hard luck. 
 The company with which he was 
 engaged had disbanded. And the 
 disintegration had, unfortunately, 
 taken place while they were harass 
 ing the northern part of the State 
 of Michigan. It took the magician 
 nearly two years to walk back to 
 New York ; and during that time 
 he subsisted entirely on omelettes 
 which he cooked in his own high 
 hat, rabbits which he caught in 
 the sleeves of his dress suit, and 
 d fish which he took from the 
 glass globe in his coat-tail pocket. 
 On reaching the metropolis he learned 
 of Aladdin s prosperity, and knew that he 
 owed it to the wonderful lamp. So he procured half-a- 
 dozen new lamps, with patent devices for lighting and. 
 
ALADDIN. T2S 
 
 extinguishing, and boldly made his way to the suburban 
 palace during the absence of the Genie, who had gone 
 over to the Guttenberg track to pick " mud winners" 
 for his master. 
 
 The magician rang the electric bell, and boldly 
 offered to exchange a new lamp for an old one. The 
 mistress of the house was upstairs lying down, but she 
 could not resist this opportunity for a trade (her grand 
 father on her mother s side amassed a large fortune from 
 the product of a nutmeg grove in the vicinity of Hart 
 ford, Connecticut) ; so she took an old lamp that had 
 long laid on a shelf in the storeroom, went to the door 
 and asked the magician what he would give "to boot" 
 if she consented to exchange a veritable antique for two 
 or three of his wretched Philistine abominations. In less 
 than half an hour he had exchanged his entire stock 
 of lamps for the old one, and sealed the bargain by 
 throwing in a gratuitous performance of the goldfish 
 trick, which he executed on the doormat in the presence 
 of the entire household. 
 
 The faithful Genie did not return that evening. 
 He brought the money won at Guttenberg to his new 
 master, the magician ; and then, at the latter s command, 
 erected a new palace on a high hill, and filled it with 
 every modern convenience. 
 
 When Aladdin returned home that night and found 
 what his wife had done he was enraged, and cried out, 
 saying: "Now all our good fortune is gone, and we are 
 like other suburban residents, dependent for our daily 
 bread on the local baker," 
 
is6 OTHER TALES. 
 
 And from that day the fortunes of the Aladdin 
 family began to fail. They could not get a man to spade 
 up the garden, because the man had a job somewhere 
 else. The rain descended and filled the cellar so that 
 Aladdin had to go about in a flat-bottom boat when he 
 fixed the furnace. When the " best people in the town" 
 called at the house they could not get in, because the 
 electric bell was out of order, and so they went away 
 in high dudgeon. They spent all the money they had 
 left in having the roof repaired and the leak in the 
 bath-tub stopped up. Finally they became so poor 
 that they kept thirteen dogs ; and then Aladdin put on 
 sackcloth, and threw ashes, of which the cellar was full, 
 upon his head, and beat his breast, and cried "Allah, 
 be merciful to me ! " 
 
 And now the magician was in the swim, for all the 
 best people called on him, and invited him to join the 
 suburban club, and subscribe to the village band and the 
 base-ball nine. And soon he became so popular that a 
 committee of Independent Citizens nominated him for 
 road commissioner. So he "yielded to the wishes of his 
 friends " and became a candidate. Then, in order to 
 make himself " solid " with the working classes, he an 
 nounced a grand entertainment for the benefit of the 
 local Bricklayers Union. And Aladdin, hearing of this, 
 resolved to defeat the plans of the wicked fakir ; so he 
 attended the performance disguised as a countryman in 
 humble circumstances and of limited intelligence. He 
 seated himself on the front bench, and by dint of gazing 
 in open-mouthed wonder at the "professor" was soon 
 
ALADDIN. 
 
 selected as a gentleman from the audience" to step 
 upon the stage and make a guy of himself. When the 
 magician was preparing for the great card 
 trick, Aladdin espied in a small basket 
 the wonderful lamp, which was 
 evidently to be used in the " Inex 
 plicable Phenomena" at the close 
 of the entertainment. 
 
 " Now, ladies and gentle 
 men," said the fakir, advancing 
 to the front of the stage, "I 
 have here the ace of hearts, 
 which I will " 
 
 But at this instant 
 Aladdin sprang across 
 the stage at a single 
 bound, seized the 
 
J2 8 OTHER TALES. 
 
 lamp, and rubbed it across his coat-sleeve, bringing the 
 Genie into his presence at once. 
 
 "Seize this man and away with him ! " he exclaimed : 
 and the faithful Genie obeyed, while the people remained 
 spell-bound with surprise. 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen," said Aladdin, taking off 
 his false wig and beard, "do not be alarmed. These are 
 the "Inexplicable Phenomena" mentioned in the pro 
 gramme. I shall be glad to see you all that is, all the 
 best people at my palace whenever you may care to 
 call. The door bell will ring." 
 
 And after that, Aladdin and his wife dwelt so 
 happily together in their suburban palace that they 
 always spent at least six months in the city. And 
 wherever they went they were attended by the faithful 
 Genie, who procured comforts and luxuries for them 
 such as no other mortals could obtain. 
 
JOHN COPPERTUG S FALL. 
 A TALE OF PROHIBITION AND ICE -WATER. 
 
 " PLEASE, SIR, has my father been here yet?" 
 
 It was a timid, shrinking child who uttered 
 these words. Her golden head was barely level with the 
 polished top of the bar ; and, as she stood there, the 
 loungers in the gorgeous saloon cast glances of wonder 
 at her. She seemed strangely out of place in that glit 
 tering palace of strong drink. The bar-tender, glancing 
 at the sunny face and beseeching blue eyes, 
 said, in tones of unwonted tenderness: 
 
 "N-a-a-aw." 
 
 "Then, sir," said the child, a deli 
 cate flush mantling her cheeks as she 
 spoke, "my mother says will you please 
 fill her growler for her, and Father will 
 pay you when he comes uptown?" 
 
 John Coppertug was a man of kindly, 
 genial disposition, except when deprived of 
 his needed quantity of strong drink. When 
 in his cups, no kinder father or more indulgent husband 
 could be found. Then it was that he brought home toys 
 
r jo OTHER TALES. 
 
 for his children, took his wife to the theatre, and made 
 glad the hearts of all about him. It was only when 
 he yielded to his evil cravings and tampered with the 
 pernicious ice-water that the dark side of his character 
 appeared. Then he would go home sullen and cross, 
 ready to find fault with his wife, scold his children, and 
 cast a gloom over the family circle. No wonder, then, 
 that in the bitterness of her heart, his wife would utter 
 a wailing cry against the Croton Aqueduct Board, and 
 bitterly deplore the existence of street drinking-fountains. 
 
 And on the evening of which we write, John Cop- 
 pertug was making his way uptown with bowed head and 
 scowling visage. He did not stop at the corner-saloon 
 for his customary evening "nip," but bent his steps 
 directly toward the little home in which his wife and 
 children awaited him. 
 
 The curtains were drawn in the cozy parlor, and the 
 lamp on the centre-table shone softly on the face of the 
 mother plying her needle and listening anxiously for her 
 husband s footfalls. The cheery light fell, also, on the 
 happy faces of the children at play on the floor. It 
 gleamed on the polished sides of the tin growler which 
 stood, half emptied, on the table. 
 
 Mary Coppertug was at work on a pillow-case, and 
 as she sewed she wondered whether her husband would 
 come home sober or not. Would he roll merrily in with 
 unsteady step and a breath as fragrant as a zephyr from 
 the far off Spice Islands? Would the theatre tickets 
 gleam on her from his vest-pocket? Would his face 
 have a Spring-bonnet smile ? 
 
JOHN COPPERTUG S FALL. f S f 
 
 11 Papa s coming ! " cried the golden-haired child 
 from her place by the window. 
 
 " Coming ! " echoed the wife, dropping her work 
 and leaping to her feet. "Look, child, and tell me if 
 he is full." 
 
 " No," said the little girl, sadly. 
 
 " No," repeated Mary Coppertug, the bright vision 
 fading from her mind ; "then may Heaven protect us! 
 There will be no treat for us to-night. He has been at 
 the water-faucet again. Run and hide, children, for your 
 father is not himself to-night." 
 
 When John Coppertug entered the room, he found 
 his faithful wife seated, needle in hand, by the little 
 centre-table. His eye fell upon the tin pail which, in 
 her anxiety, she had forgotten to conceal. His brow 
 darkened. 
 
I 3 2 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 "What is that?" he demanded. 
 
 "It is the growler," she replied, firmly and sadly. 
 "I have been working it for myself and our little ones. 
 Oh, John, the time was when you used to share our 
 simple pleasures ! Why not now, as in the happy days 
 gone by?" 
 
 Her husband seized the pail and emptied its con 
 tents out of the window. 
 
 "There!" he exclaimed; "I m done with growl 
 ers for ever. Come here, and I 11 tell you what I m 
 going to do." 
 
 She came nearer, with a strange look of horror on 
 her face. He bent his head and whispered something 
 in her ear. Then he went out into the still, cold night, 
 and left her standing by the table with lips compressed 
 and wild, staring eyes from which no tears would flow. 
 ***** 
 
 An hour later Mary Coppertug entered her father s 
 house leading her three children by the hand. 
 
 "I have come home to you at last, Mother," she 
 
JOHN COPPERTUG S FALL. 133 
 
 said wearily, as she sank into a chair; "I can bear it 
 no longer. John and I have been growing apart from 
 one another for a long time, but I never thought it would 
 come to this. To-night he told me that he had resolved 
 to to " 
 
 "What?" demanded her mother. 
 
 "To vote the Prohibition ticket!" 
 
JOHN COPPERTUG S REFORMATION. 
 
 A TALE OF SELTZER AND LEMON-SODA. 
 
 " /^ENTLEMEN," said the politician, as he entered the 
 
 ^-J gilded palace of strong drink; "step up and take 
 
 something with me." 
 
 His invitation was accepted by thirteen individuals 
 who were leaning against the bar, or sitting with 
 chairs tilted up against the wall. There was one 
 man, however, who did not respond, but re 
 mained in a corner of the saloon with eyes down 
 cast, and sullen, dissatisfied look. 
 
 " Every gentleman in the house step up 
 and take a drink ! " repeated the politician, with 
 a friendly smile of encouragement. " Won t you join us, 
 sir ? " he added, glancing at the morose man who had 
 not responded to his invitation. 
 
 "Come," said the bar-tender; "don t take a shingle 
 off a man s house." 
 
 The morose man sighed wearily as he arose and 
 strode toward the bar. There was a chill in his voice 
 that was felt by all who heard him say, in sullen tones: 
 
 " Gimme a seltzer-lemonade ! " 
 
ij6 OTHER TALES. 
 
 In the sad-faced cold-water man who stood leaning 
 on the polished bar few would have recognized the once 
 happy and jovial John Coppertug. Temperance drinks 
 were fast working his ruin. Ever since his decision to 
 vote the Prohibition Ticket he had been a changed man. 
 His wife had not seen him since the day she left him 
 and returned to her father s house. His home was de 
 solate, and he spent his evenings in the glittering corner 
 saloon, where he imbibed temperance drinks until 
 weakened nature compelled him to desist. 
 
 And so, on this cool October night, when the 
 electric-light was shining on the pavement with 
 out and the gas-light flickering cheerily within, 
 when the politicians were "setting em up" 
 with a rapidity that fairly dazzled and bewil 
 dered the oldest "heelers" in the room, when 
 even the man-who-sweeps-out-the-saloon-for-a- 
 cocktail felt the kindly and genial warmth of 
 political hospitality, and took his place at the bar for 
 each round then it was, John Coppertug s better na 
 ture began to assert itself. 
 
 "Please, sir, will you fill my mother s growler?" 
 Why did John Coppertug start when he heard these 
 words ? They were uttered by a golden-haired child 
 his own child. Well did he know the tin pail she placed 
 on the bar. It was the growler, the bright growler of 
 happier days. And the child little Eva, with sunny 
 curls was quick to recognize her father. She ap 
 proached him shyly, and hid her face in the tails of his 
 last Spring overcoat. 
 
JOHN COPPERTUG S REFORMATION. 
 
 " Come, set em up again ! " exclaimed the politi 
 cian. 
 
 " Gimme a lemon-soda," said John Coppertug, 
 
 moodily. 
 
 O Father ! Why do you stick to soft drinks? 
 said little Eva, in pleading accents. " See, these 
 other gentlemen are all taking hard liquors, 
 just as you used to when we all lived hap 
 pily together in the little home. We are 
 staying with kind Gran pa now ; and he 
 gets full every night, and is, oh ! so 
 good to us." 
 
 yours, 
 
 sir?" asked the 
 
 she 
 
 "What s 
 bar-tender. 
 
 For a moment John Coppertug hesi 
 tated, then his better nature yielded, and he said : 
 
 " Lemon-soda." 
 
 A tear stood in little Eva s right eye. 
 
 "Take a little of Mr. Gilhooley s old rye," 
 whispered, coaxingly. "That was what you always 
 used to smell of when you came home and kissed us all, 
 and took us to the theatre. Dear Gran pa says that is 
 the best drink in the world to make a man feel good." 
 
 The bar-tender heard her, and placed the whiskey- 
 bottle before the supporter of the Prohibition Ticket. 
 
 There was a momentary struggle in the temperance 
 man s breast. 
 
 " I want lemon-soda," he said, in tones of feeble 
 remonstrance. 
 
 " Please, Mr. Bar-tender," said the child, in firm, 
 
138 OTHER TALES. 
 
 clear tones; "please don t sell my father any more 
 temperance drinks. Mother is so afraid he will come 
 home sober again. Winter is coming on, and she has 
 no seal-skin sacque. Oh, please, give him a little of 
 that good rye ! " 
 
 The rough loungers in the saloon were visibly 
 affected. 
 
 "Take some of the rye, John, if only to please your 
 child," said the politician, persuasively. 
 
 John Coppertug was not a wholly bad man, and 
 now all that was noble in him bravely asserted itself. 
 
 "I will," he said, manfully; "and, what s more, 
 I 11 take a squirt of bitters in it. Run home, Eva, and 
 tell your mother I 11 come to her again full as I used 
 to be. Tell her I m done with temperance drinks 
 forever." 
 
 After that, John Coppertug never went home sober 
 again. 
 
VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. 
 
 A LONG NEEDED PENAL CODE. 
 
 ""THE NEW PENAL CODE intended to mitigate the 
 * horrors of the variety stage will go into effect at an 
 early date. It provides suitable penalties for different 
 offenses which have hitherto been committed without 
 rebuke. It is gratifying to know that a long-suffering 
 Public has at last risen in its might, and invoked 
 the passage of a law which constitutes every 
 audience a vigilance committee, with the 
 power to mete out instant punishment to 
 the reckless and hardened criminals of the 
 variety stage. 
 
 Hereafter it will be unlawful to play 
 a sketch containing the lines: " Yessir, I 
 do want to hire a man. What can you 
 do?" or, "Here he comes now. I 11 hide 
 behind this barrel, and when he comes in 
 I ll down him;" or, "I put an advertise 
 ment in the paper this morning for a young man, but I 
 don t see it anywheres. Ah, here it is;" or, "Yes, I 
 am a musician, and I can play on pretty near anything. 
 
140 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 I 11 take down the stove and play you a few airs on it, 
 just to show you what I can do." 
 
 The blind man who- is let loose on the stage with an 
 accordion will be cast into outer darkness. 
 
 All attempts to enhance the melancholy of 
 variety and minstrel performances by inten 
 tionally pathetic ballads or recitations will 
 be severely punished. This section of the 
 Code is intended to apply particularly to 
 songs containing allusions to home, ma 
 ternal love, the old kitchen clock, and 
 relics which once belonged to the sing 
 er s grandfather. " Old oaken " heirlooms 
 of every description are forbidden. 
 All drinking-songs, songs in which kissing, 
 laughing, or the popping of corks is por 
 trayed with the aid of the audience, and songs 
 whose effect is heightened by the cracking of whips, or 
 rattling of castinets are prohibited by law. 
 
 Attempts to extract music from coal-scuttles, cuspi 
 dors, tea-pots, or any other - domestic utensils, will be 
 punished by imprisonment in the county jail. 
 
 Dutch and Irish comedy of the "just landed" 
 variety, songs laudatory of the Emerald Isle, and those 
 beginning, "I m a happy little something; " shoes with 
 numbers on their soles, and ventriloquists with little 
 wooden dolls, will not be tolerated under any circum 
 stances. 
 
 Jokes and " gags " must be propelled into the 
 audience by their own momentum. No external aid 
 
VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. 141 
 
 from the leader of the orchestra, or members of the 
 company will be tolerated ; nor will it be legal to lubri 
 cate the path of a weary and care-worn joke by the 
 remark: "That goes better at matinees." 
 
 Swinging angels will be swung from the nearest 
 lamp-post. 
 
 There will be a prohibitory tariff on elongated blad 
 ders, tea-cup hats, bottomless carpet-bags, trick-vests, 
 explosive cigars, squeaking " property " babies, and 
 female impersonators. 
 
 And a high license for side- walk conversations, banjo 
 monologues, lightning change acts and imitations of 
 popular actors. 
 
 Performers will not be permitted to bill themselves 
 as " Comical Maguire," or " Funny Maginnis," or "The 
 Rip-Snorting Mokes from Omaha." They must save 
 what humor they possess for the stage. 
 
 After-pieces showing the sorrows of a manager en 
 gaging a company may be given only under the super 
 vision of the local authorities. Specialists will not be 
 permitted to add to the honors of the after-piece by 
 doing "acts" in which they have already appeared that 
 evening. Instant transportation to Siberia is the penalty 
 fixed for violation of this law. 
 
 Serio-comics who take more than one encore do it 
 at their own risk. 
 
 The dungeon yawns for the man who engages in 
 that form of iniquity known as the " pedestal-clog," or 
 revives ancient plantation darkey business, or attempts 
 to depict extreme age by means of a cotton wig and 
 
nickel-plated "specs," and slides down a trick-staircase, 
 or takes the leader of the orchestra into his confidence. 
 
 Criminals banded together for the purpose of harass 
 ing peaceable communities with "statue-clogs," or songs 
 beginning "Come to the Silvery Stream," or, "There s 
 Moon, there s moon, there s moon, There s Moonlight 
 on the Lake," will be punished by fine or imprisonment, 
 or both. Topical songs may be given under police sur 
 veillance only. 
 
 The contortionist in black tights will get all the 
 writhing he wants in the sweet by-and-by. 
 
 Magicians who change a soiled pocket-handkerchief 
 into an egg, women who impersonate swells with the aid 
 of a long coat and blond wig, vocalists who sing "As I 
 was going down the Street a Pretty Girl I Chanced to 
 Meet," and ruffians who portray tenement-house quarrels 
 will be summarily dealt with. 
 
 The girl who spreads out a fan behind her back, or 
 performs the ancient and horrible skipping-rope dance, 
 will also be severely punished. 
 
 Special enactments will protect the public from all 
 
VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. 
 
 143 
 
 forms of torture by the cornet and accordion. Virtuosos 
 attempting to wrest melody from the latter will be given 
 over to the tormentors. Those who play Scotch airs on 
 the first-named instrument will be left to the mercies of 
 the audience. 
 
 It will not be lawful to perform on two or more 
 musical instruments simultaneously, or to indulge in 
 unnatural tricks, such as waving the banjo in mid-air, 
 playing flute solos while standing on one s head, or 
 extracting from one instrument imitations of another. 
 The authorities will close the house as soon as any one 
 attempts to play on a chime of bells. Every banjo soloist 
 will be required to take out a license and wear his 
 number on a brass collar about his neck. 
 
 The wearing of cuffs on the ankles, 
 stockings on the hands, or elastic vests, 
 and the stuffing of garments with pil 
 lows in order to enhance the hilarity 
 of the " tumbling" business, will sub 
 ject the offender to imprisonment with 
 hard iSbor. 
 
 A man may play "Within a Mile 
 of Sweet Edinboro Town" on the cor 
 net; but he must not play it within 
 five miles of any other town. 
 
 Transportation to Botany Bay is the 
 punishment which awaits the girl who betrays 
 the trust reposed in her by the populace by singing a 
 song of all nations and waving flags. All songs of this 
 description will be strictly prohibited, and there will be 
 
144 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 af? 
 
 a life sentence ready for the girl who sings one contain 
 ing the lines : 
 
 There was dear Robert Emmet, 
 Who died for his green native shores." 
 
 When capital punishment is decreed, the extreme 
 penalty of the law will be inflicted by the audience. The 
 culprit will be securely bound and carried to the nearest 
 market-place, and there hung in the presence of the 
 assembled multitude. In order to add to the ignominy 
 of his death, a company of Swiss bell-ringers will play 
 during his last agony. This punishment will be meted 
 out only to the man who attempts to sing a comic song 
 
 with a "part spoken" of this description: 
 
 "Ain t I the cheese? Ain t I the cheese, 
 Round by the Serpentine, under the trees? 
 Ain t I the cheese? Ain t I the cheese, 
 As I walk in the park with my darling Louise?" 
 
 (Spoken rapidly, and without a pause.) 
 
 Yes she s a dear good girl bless her I 
 took her to an oyster-saloon the other night 
 and just look at me now 
 
 (Turns pockets inside out, pulls out watch- 
 chain with key attachment, drops several huge 
 pawn-tickets on the stage, and gives other 
 evidences of extreme destitution.) 
 She said she was n t very hungry and all she wanted 
 was apple-pie on toast clam-fritters on the deep pint 
 bottle of Mumm Little Necks on the shallow gin cock 
 tail Blue Point stew broiled partridge poached truffles 
 mushroon fry whiskey sour My ! It took three waiters 
 to bring in the check and I had to leave my swallow- 
 
VARIETY THEATRE REFORM. 145 
 
 tailed coat and ulster with the cashier and go home in an 
 army blanket but I love her dearly still and often as I 
 walk down Fifth Avenue I stop and do a little step some 
 thing like this and sing in clear melodious accents : 
 
 " Ain t I the cheese ? Ain t I the cheese ? " 
 At this point the leader of the orchestra will put on 
 the black-cap, and, the entire audience following, the 
 culprit will be led away to suffer the death penalty. 
 During his last moments, a picture of Joe Emmet look 
 ing through a broken slate will be held before his eyes. 
 
THE ASSEMBLYMAN S BRIDE. 
 
 A TALE OF AMERICAN HIGH LIFE ALL NATIVE TITLES. 
 
 By the American Duchess Ouida. 
 
 "T WONDER IF he will come," murmurs Maud, lan- 
 * guidly, as she lies in statuesque repose in her 
 hammock, while the soft June breeze plays with her 
 wavy chestnut hair and scatters snow-white blossoms at 
 her feet. Through the branches of the swaying vine, 
 whose foliage darkens the cool piazza, the golden sunlight 
 shimmers down and touches 
 the perfect oval face with ten 
 der, checkered caress. There 
 is the hum of many insects 
 in the air; at the foot of the 
 lawn* the salt waves break in 
 seething foam on the rock- 
 bound shore ; the branches of 
 the tall locust-trees commune 
 together in whispers and sighs 
 of exquisite softness, while far 
 
 overhead is the splendid blue sky, dotted with fleecy 
 clouds of brilliant whiteness. 
 
148 OTHER TALES. 
 
 And yet, as Maud Mahoney lies in her hammock, 
 with a half-closed volume in one hand, while the fingers 
 of the other toy with the silken ears of the superb dog 
 beside her, she looks bored. 
 
 And why should one be bored when one has youth 
 and health and splendid dresses and fleet horses, and 
 when the June sun is shining brightly? Is it worth 
 nothing then to be the only daughter of Alderman 
 Mahoney, the wealthiest Summer resident of Stamwalk 
 on the Sound? Can one be bored with the knowledge 
 that a doting father has a " pull " of colossal dimensions 
 at Albany? 
 
 But, for all that, Maud is bored undeniably bored. 
 She has been trying to read all the afternoon ; but her 
 book rests idly in her lap. She is waiting for the 4:38 
 express, which will thunder into the station, bearing the 
 dashing young Assemblyman Billings, who comes osten 
 sibly to consult her father in relation to the ash-barrel 
 inspectorship in the i8th District, but in reality that he 
 may sit on the moonlit piazza and woo the daughter of 
 the proud old politician, while the waves break on the 
 shore, and the tall locusts whisper and murmur together, 
 and the stars shine down in loving approval. 
 
 She has had many suitors ere this. She could have 
 wed the eloquent young Tax Commissioner McGloin, 
 the idol of the short-haired Democracy of her father s 
 ward, and the hero of many a hard-contested battle at 
 the polls. She is known scornfully to have refused the 
 hand of him who was then only Pardon Clerk Smiles ; 
 but is now known as the " Brazen- voiced Orator of the 
 
THE ASSEMBLYMAN S BRIDE. 149 
 
 Assembly Chamber," and holds the black-and-tan vote 
 of Bleecker Street in the hollow of his hand. Sewer In 
 spectors, Counselors, Clerks of the Bureau of Arrearages ; 
 aye, even Aldermen and Congressmen have knelt before 
 her knelt and pleaded in vain. 
 
 Perhaps she is thinking of these triumphs now, for 
 a smile lightens her face for a moment. Then the 
 whistle of the train is heard, and she springs to her feet, 
 radiant with delight. " I must go and fix myself! " 
 she exclaims; " I look like a fright ! " 
 
 There are but three gathered at the 
 tea table in the evening the Alderman, 
 his daughter and the young Assembly 
 man; and as they sit by the shaded 
 lamps, the talk between the two men be 
 comes confidential. Political schemes are 
 hatched, and the most subtle mysteries of 
 statecraft openly and almost carelessly discussed. 
 
 " I think they 11 defeat us on that bill to cut down 
 all the trees in Central Park," says the Assemblyman; 
 but it 11 make them very unpopular with the working 
 classes for preventing the poor man from getting a job 
 that d last him the Winter through." 
 
 "Be the powers," rejoins the Alderman, "there s 
 been a fearful kick made in my war-r-rud for fraid the 
 bill won t pass. All the voters was countin on it. Sure 
 we 11 have to do something twixt now V election if we 
 expect to hould the party together." 
 
i 5 o OTHER TALES. 
 
 " I can tell you," replies the other, " there s a big 
 opposition to that bill up the River; and, for certain 
 sure, Alderman Mahoney, if some of them members 
 from the back counties don t get their price, there 11 be 
 a split-up in the party before November. I suppose it s 
 sorrow a bit of help we 11 get from that scalawag at 
 Washington." 
 
 The Alderman brings down his 
 clenched fist on the table with a 
 fearful oath. He is famous for his 
 curses. They have made the rafters 
 of old Tammany Hall ring ere this 
 while frenzied throngs howled their 
 approval. 
 
 He swore just such another oath 
 at Chicago in 84, when the name of his 
 party s nominee was made known to him. 
 
 "Bad cess to him ! " he hisses between his clenched 
 teeth; "I Ve been a worker in me war-r-rud this thirty 
 odd year. I Ve been to primaries and served on com 
 mittees, and done me whole duty as a Dimmycrat, and 
 yet, when it comes to gettin recognition, there ain t a 
 swallow-tailed college student to be found but what s got 
 the call on me. You mark me words, Assemblyman, 
 there 11 be a change one of these days, and then we 11 see 
 a true Dimmycrat of the ould school in the White 
 House." And with these ominous words they rise from 
 the table, and adjourn to the piazza. 
 
THE ASSEMBLYMAN S BRIDE. 
 
 The moon has risen now, and begun her stately 
 march across the starlit sky. Her silvery rays fall on the 
 old politician, who sits on the piazza dreaming of the 
 days when he led his cohorts "Mahoney s toughs" 
 they called them to victory in his district. And down 
 by the shore, where the white-crested waves come hurry 
 ing in from the broad Sound, and dash against the cool, 
 gray stones; there, with the locusts murmuring over 
 head, and the Summer s night keeping a silent watch 
 with her thousand eyes, stands Maud, her head resting 
 on the diagonal vest of the dashing young Assemblyman. 
 " Yes," she says, a wonderful smile lighting up her 
 face as she turns it to his, " I can not doubt that you 
 love me with all the fervor of the 
 Lower House ; but then, you 
 know only too well what my 
 father s ambition is. He 
 has said long ago that I 
 must marry a man with a 
 pull. O Darling! why 
 have you not a pull? " 
 
 " Alas ! " rejoins her 
 
 lover, " I have indeed a 
 
 very slight pull even in 
 
 my own district. But it 
 
 has occurred to me that if 
 
 I can get your father s Central 
 
 Park bill through next session, he will perhaps look more 
 
 favorably upon my suit. 
 
 " Algernon ! " exclaims the young girl, wringing 
 
i 5 s OTHER TALES. 
 
 her hands in bitterness of spirit; "that job will never 
 go through. The hayseeds are all down on it." 
 
 "Never mind," my precious one," he says, as he 
 presses a kiss on her brow; "I will do something ere 
 long to convince your father that I have not quite lost 
 my grip." 
 
 A year has flown, and now another splendid June 
 evening finds the young lovers seated side by side on the 
 vine-hung piazza. They look tenderly and joyously into 
 each other s eyes. All the sighing is done by the tall 
 locust-trees described in a previous chapter. 
 
 The old Alderman approaches, but. they do not draw 
 apart from each other. He no longer opposes their 
 union, for the handsome young member of the Lower 
 House has shown that he has a pull. When the bill for 
 cutting down the trees in Central Park was defeated by 
 an unprecedented majority, and ominous murmurs of 
 discontent were heard in the lower wards, Assemblyman 
 Billings threw himself into the breach with a bill to tear 
 up all the gas and water mains in New York and put 
 them down again. With fiery eloquence he rushed the 
 job through, although hayseed and swallow-tail fought 
 shoulder to shoulder against it. 
 
 And so it came to pass that Alderman Mahoney s 
 constituents got long and easy jobs on the big pipes, and 
 the reins of power were placed again in the hands of the 
 pld Tammany chieftain, who dispensed his patronage 
 
THE ASSEMBLYMAN S BRIDE. 
 
 53 
 
 with lavish hand wherever he thought it would do the 
 most good. 
 
 Then the gallant young Assemblyman proudly 
 claimed his bride, the Alderman gave them his blessing, 
 and Maud Mahoney married a man with a pull. 
 
THE DESERTED HOUSE. 
 A LEGEND OF THE CONNECTICUT VALLEY. 
 
 HAMLET CRADLED amid the 
 
 steep, fir - clad hills, and 
 shaded by tall elm-trees, 
 through whose branches 
 fall the shimmering rays 
 of the setting sun, touch 
 ing, with tender glow, the 
 brand-new square house of 
 Squire Larrabee, and color 
 ing Deacon Pogram s old barn 
 with the only kind of paint it has ever 
 known. And now the shadows lengthen on the 
 village street and on the steep sides of the western hills. 
 And behind these verdure -clad walls the sun slowly 
 sinks ; its last rays picking out a few early-tinted leaves 
 here and there in the tree-tops, and lingering in rosy 
 caress on the gilt rooster, which, in Puritan communities, 
 adorns the church -steeple and replaces the cross as a 
 religious emblem. The last bright ray falls on this 
 sacred symbol of New England faith and thrift, then the 
 
156 OTHER TALES. 
 
 glow fades from the burnished tail-feathers and the sun 
 is gone. 
 
 The solemn hush of a Connecticut twilight has 
 fallen upon Beanville. Twilight in shady street and 
 quiet church-yard. Twilight in the Squire s front yard 
 and in his "best room," where the shadows gather about 
 the horse-hair sofa and claw-footed centre-table. Twilight 
 in Deacon Pogram s barn-yard among the lowing kine. 
 Twilight on the front stoop, where the Summer boarders 
 are sitting, and where the evening breeze plays soft on 
 bang and spit-curl. Twilight in the back kitchen, where 
 the cat purrs before the stove, and the hired help is 
 roasting bread-crusts for the coffee which the boarders 
 will drink on the morrow. 
 
 Looking toward the dark hillside, from the stoop, one 
 can see the decaying walls of a deserted house. 
 The bats keep their lonely vigil in its eaves 
 and chimneys, while the wind sighs a sad 
 requiem through the swaying tree-tops 
 overhead. 
 
 "What a romantic -looking old 
 place ! " exclaims one of the boarders, 
 impulsively; "it has always seemed to 
 me that that old house must have some 
 story some wild legend of sorrow and 
 disaster that stalks through its deserted 
 halls and chambers like a dread phantom 
 of the past. There surely must be a story." 
 
 She is a gushing young thing who teaches school 
 in Jersey City in the W T inter, and has temporarily ex- 
 
THE DESERTED HOUSE. 
 
 157 
 
 changed the pleasures of that famous art centre for the 
 Summer quiet of Beanville. 
 
 " Wa-al, I kin tell ye suthin abaout that there 
 haouse," says Deacon Pogram, seating himself, with 
 much crackling of joints, on the door-step, 
 and chuckling, the while, at the thought 
 of the advantageous "trade" he 
 has just made at the vil 
 lage store. 
 
 11 There was a 
 feller come up here 
 onc t to try farmin a 
 spell. He was one 
 of these yer fancy 
 city chaps that 
 thought there was 
 big money in 
 ^ ^ : farmin ef t was 
 
 only run right. 
 He d plenty o 
 money, too. They 
 tell me he was 
 wuth pretty nigh 
 onto a hunderd thaou- 
 
 sand dollars when he come up here. Made it daown 
 York way a-keepin store there. Wa-al, as I was a-tellin 
 ye, he come up here n built him a fine haouse over on 
 the new turnpike road, n spent no end o money a-fixin 
 on it up with sofys, n carpets, n all sorts o gimcracks. 
 Why, they was pictur s on his walls as cost a hunderd 
 
5* 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 dollars apiece, n I ve hearn em tell he kep all sorts o 
 lickers n wines in his cellar. Such extravagance had n t 
 never been heard on before in the caounty, n there was 
 folks as druv in here of afternoons from five miles back 
 just to look at the city chap s new place. 
 
 " Wa-al, it warn t long before it got aout among 
 the folks abaout here as haow this new chap was a-payin 
 fur things most anything folks chose 
 to charge him. Then the light- 
 nin -rod fellers got wind of it, 
 n he d wake up in the 
 mornin to find six on em 
 a-settin on his door-step. 
 They socked it to him, I kin 
 tell ye. They rodded his 
 haouse with enough stuff to 
 fence in a grave-yard. They 
 rodded his stable n his barn 
 n his pigstye, n it s a 
 wonder they did n t put rods on 
 his apple-trees. 
 
 " Long in April, or mebbe t 
 was March, he moved in n give 
 Everybody was invited, n pretty 
 nigh the hull village went. Such highfalutin doings as 
 there was that night I never did see. What with the 
 fancy victuals, n the claret-wine, n the champagne- 
 wine, n one thing n another, folks did n t hardly know 
 what to eat. There was some on em I don t want to 
 mention no names as went home with a, leetle more 
 
 a big house-warmin . 
 
THE DESERTED HOUSE. 159 
 
 n they could carry convenient. You see, he was a clever 
 creetur as ever lived, n I hain t nuthin in the world 
 ag in him, only he was too careless, n had n t no sort 
 of a head fur riggers. 
 
 " Wa-al, of course, he didn t calkerlate to do his 
 farmin hisself. He was a-goin to hire it done. What s 
 more, he wanted to kinder let out contracts instead of 
 payin his hands so much a day. One man hoed corn 
 n charged a dollar a row. Another brung his team 
 over n did the plowin at so much a furrow made 
 enough on t to lift a mortgage off n his farm n take his 
 family daown to York the next Winter." 
 
 At this point in his narrative the good Deacon 
 paused and chuckled softly to himself. 
 
 " I hed a contract, myself, to dig a drain fur him," 
 he continued, still chuckling softly. " I did n t want to 
 make more n eight dollars a day, so I allers quit work at 
 noon. Money was plenty here that year, I kin tel l ye, n 
 everybody got a share of it. He tuk a pew at the meet- 
 in -house, n , b gosh, they charged him double-price, n 
 made him pay enough fur the carpet n cushions to get a 
 new candlebras they called it to hangover the pulpit. 
 
 " In all my life I never seen nuthin to equal the 
 way they useter charge that pore critter fur everything 
 he got. Even the boys axed him a dollar a bushel fur 
 diggin his potatos, n useter steal his apples, n then 
 come raound the back way n sell em to him over 
 again. Why, my boy Lisha made enough diggin 
 potatos n sellin him his own apples to get a new Win 
 ter-suit n a nickel-plated watch." 
 
160 OTHER TALES. 
 
 " But how long did his money last? " inquired one 
 of the Summer boarders. 
 
 "Wa-al, I dunno but it would a lasted longer if 
 he had n t er et some tudstools some critter sold him 
 for mushrooms. They killed him, n he died before 
 he d spent half his money. They was genooine sorrow 
 when the news arrived; but nuthin more could be 
 done except to sock it to the estate fur the coffin n 
 the buryin on him. Yes, Marthy, I m a-comin ! " 
 
 And the worthy Deacon toddled off to the kitchen, 
 to learn that the hired-girl had gone and sent the stale 
 eggs down to the store, and kept the fresh ones for the 
 boarders breakfast. 
 
the 
 
 TWO OLD CRONES. 
 
 How THEY LEARNED OF THE LATEST ARRIVAL IN BEANVILLE. 
 
 THERE WAS something afoot in Beanville. That was 
 evident even to the most careless observer. There 
 was a hush in the air, and a tremulous rustling in the 
 branches of the tall elms that shaded 
 village street. From the marsh 
 could be heard the mysterious 
 croaking of the frogs ; old 
 Deacon Pogram s ducks 
 quacked confidentially 
 over the tin dish which 
 ; contained their dinner. 
 A group of rustics, seated 
 about the stove in the 
 little store, spat medita 
 tively about them, and 
 seemed to be absorbed in 
 
 some great common thought. And in some mysterious 
 way these signs and portents were wafted down the long 
 quiet street, and conveyed to the inmates of the two 
 little white cottages at the foot of Zion Hill the news of 
 
162 OTHER TALES. 
 
 some impending event which would shortly open a mine 
 under the feet of the gossips of Beanville. The two 
 little white cottages stood on opposite sides of the street 
 just at the foot of the long winding hill-road. Both had 
 green blinds, and both had little side windows which 
 commanded an excellent view of the shady village street. 
 There were lilac-bushes in front of one. Tall sunflowers 
 stood beside the other. 
 
 In one cottage dwelt Miss Betsy Carter; the other 
 was the home of Miranda Larrabee. Both ladies were 
 advanced in years and infirmity. Miss Carter was deaf 
 and Miss Larrabee lame. Both were interested in the 
 affairs of the little hamlet, and it was, figuratively speak 
 ing, a "cold clay" when either one of the worthy old 
 crones " got left " on any bit of local news. Whatever 
 escaped the deaf ears of Miss Carter was clearly heard 
 by Miss Larrabee. 
 
 Intelligence that was slow in reaching Miss Larra- 
 bee s stronghold was industriously gathered in by her 
 active neighbor. 
 
 So it happened that on this bright Summer s day, 
 when the trees were rustling, the frogs were croaking 
 and the ducks quacking, a pair of sharp eyes peered in 
 quiringly from each of the little side windows that com 
 manded so excellent a view of the long shady street. 
 Miss Carter s range of vision ended at the village green, 
 which gave her unexampled facilities for ascertaining 
 who was playing croquet there. Miss Larrabee s vista 
 included the steps of the meeting-house, so that her 
 little side window was a veritable coigne of vantage on 
 
TWO OLD CRONES. 
 
 163 
 
 Sundays and on Friday evenings, when the prayer- 
 meeting folks were out in full force. 
 
 And while the two old ladies were straining their 
 eyes to learn what was afoot in the little community, the 
 old red stage lumbered down the hill past the little 
 cottages and on toward the post-office. As it 
 went by in a cloud of dust, it revealed 
 to the two watchers a fleeting vision 
 of a man, in a high white hat and 
 linen duster, seated beside the 
 driver. If they had been at 
 their usual posts of observation 
 by their respective doors they / 
 would have seen him distinctly. 
 
 In less than a moment Miss Carter was on her way 
 across the street. Her neighbor met her at the door. 
 
 " Did n t get a clear view, but guess mebbe it s a 
 new boarder goin up to Deacon Pogram s." 
 
 "Jesso, jesso," said Betsey; "but I thought the 
 stage turned up just this side o the meetin -house, n 
 went off daown East Street. Could n t a been goin far 
 or they would a left the mail-bags fust off." 
 
 Miss Larrabee, who had seen the stage turn off, 
 and jealously tried to keep the fact to herself, wilted 
 before her neighbor s piercing gaze, and admitted that it 
 was so, but she "had n t taken no partic lar notice." 
 
 " Wa-al, Mirandy Larrabee," said Betsey, severely, 
 as she turned to go, "don t ye try to fool me ag in, or 
 ye 11 find yeself cut pretty short o news. T ain t the 
 fust time ye Ve led me astray tellin me folks hed gone 
 
i6 4 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 up to the Deacon s, V hevin me postin up there in the 
 hot sun, when ye knew well enough they d turned 
 daown Bricktop way. I 11 hev the bottom facts con- 
 sarnin that critter in the fancy gret-cut n tall hat afore 
 sundaown ; n what s more, I 11 keep it to myself. 
 They s folks upstreet es keeps posted n don t grudge 
 their neighbors a bit o news, nuther." 
 
 "There be, be there?" retorted Miss Larrabee; 
 " wa-al, I kin tell ye, Betsey Carter, they s folks daown- 
 street es hears news afore it s tew hours stale, n don t 
 hev ter go a-gaddin raound arter it, nuther." 
 
 Her neighbor turned away with a contemptuous 
 sniff and marched back to her own house, where she 
 took up her position at the little window which com 
 manded such a good view of the upper end 
 of the street. In less than fifteen minutes 
 she beheld a tall young man in 
 "store-clothes" of fashionable cut, 
 and with a high white hat on his 
 head, picking his way across the 
 street. She saw him enter Squire 
 Elderkin s front gate and move 
 quickly up the broad walk. The 
 door opened, and there stood the 
 Squire s daughter in her best merino dress, smiling and 
 radiant. 
 
 The whole truth flashed upon her. Now she would 
 be able to triumph over her neighbor across the way. 
 She would show her that her facilities for obtaining 
 news were "as good as other folk s." Then she re- 
 
TWO OLD CRONES. t6 5 
 
 membered Mirandy s helpless condition, and resolved 
 that she would be the first to carry the news to her. 
 
 And at the same time her neighbor, who had also 
 witnessed the new-comer s progress across the street, 
 determined that she would be magnanimous; "for," 
 she said to herself, "poor Betsey don t hear more n 
 half what goes on." 
 
 Simultaneously the doors of the two cottages opened, 
 and the old crones stepped forth, both on the same 
 mission bent. Mirandy s eagerness lent strength to her 
 failing limbs. The two gossips met midway in the dusty 
 road, and their voices blended as one in the startling 
 cry which was heard by the croquet players on the 
 distant green : 
 
 " Anna Mari Elderkin s city beau s come !" 
 
LISH POGRAM S THANKSGIVING HOG. 
 
 AN IDYL OF THE CONNECTICUT SHORE. 
 
 L, ENNYHAOUW, they s 
 
 enough meat in that critter 
 ter help us aout consid able 
 when the snow begins ter 
 fly, an work gits slack." 
 
 As Elisha Pogram said 
 this, he looked proudly 
 down on a huge hog which 
 he had been fattening for Thanks 
 giving, and which he estimated would tip the scales at 
 more than five hundred pounds, dressed. The fact was 
 that Elisha had passed through a pretty hard Summer 
 and Autumn ; sickness, slack work, debt, the old story 
 of ill luck, had melted the little pile laid away for a ra ; ny 
 day; and then, just as he was getting on his feet again, 
 the Sheriff had swooped down on him, and carried off 
 everything he could lay his hands on, to satisfy a judge 
 ment of old Deacon Darrer, the village store-keeper, for 
 groceries, meat, and other supplies furnished while he 
 was ill in the Summer. He would have seized the hog, 
 
i68 OTHER TALES. 
 
 too, but for a merciful Connecticut law, which allows the 
 poor debtor to keep not only the implements of his trade, 
 but one pig, also. 
 
 As may be imagined, Elisha Pogram did not feel 
 very pleasantly toward Deacon Darrer, but he could not 
 help smiling that evening when, as he turned to leave 
 the sty, he saw the village store-keeper leaning over the 
 fence, and gazing with envious eyes at the huge fat 
 porker which was to see the Pogram family through until 
 the next Spring. 
 
 " Step in, Deacon, an git a nearer look at the crit 
 ter," he said, with a grin. " Don t it kinder make yer 
 mouth water ter see such a big fat hog, an then reck lect 
 that litter o yourn ye 11 hev ter feed all Winter ? You d 
 oughter go up ter Hartford next session an git them ter 
 repeal that law, so s you could grab this critter, tew, 
 along o the rest o the stock." 
 
 " Sho, naouw, Lishy," said the Deacon in a dep 
 recatory way, " I don t want ye ter bear no malice just 
 on accaount o that there little matter. Business is 
 business, ye know, an a man s gotter get the money 
 that s a-comin ter him. But I hain t got no idea o 
 bein hard on ye, Lishy ; why don t ye drop araound 
 some day, an mebbe I kin do suthin tew help ye aout 
 a mite ? " 
 
 " Thank ye kindly, Deacon," rejoined the other; 
 " but naouwadays I hev ter stop putty close ter home 
 ter watch that nobody don t steal that hog by process o 
 law or other ways." 
 
 "Wa-al, Lishy, said Deacon Darrer, as he moved 
 
LISH POGRAM S THANKSGIVING HOG. 
 
 269 
 
 rr 
 
 away, " I Ve always hearn tell ez haouw a soft answer 
 turneth away wrath, an if ye like ter come in an be 
 neighborly enny time, ye 11 be welcome." 
 
 At the weekly prayer-meeting 
 that night, Deacon Darrer sat in 
 his accustomed corner seat, se 
 renely stroking his long white 
 beard, and apparently pay 
 ing the closest attention to 
 the services, but in reality 
 thinking enviously of Elisha 
 Pogram s magnificent fat 
 hog, and sadly of the late 
 litter that he would have to 
 feed till Spring, when they 
 would be able to grub for 
 themselves. Thirteen in the 
 litter, and all runts, every 
 one of them ; and there was 
 Lishy, who owed him thirty 
 dollars for meat and groceries ! 
 keep that hog in his sty, instead of using it to pay his 
 honest debts ? It really seemed to the Deacon that he 
 had a good deal to try his righteous soul. 
 
 Two or three days later Elisha Pogram, walking 
 swiftly along the East Road past the Darrer homestead, 
 saw the Deacon gazing pensively into the sty wherein 
 reposed the litter of thirteen little squealers "all on 
 em runts, tew " to quote the pathetic words of their 
 owner. 
 
 What right had he to 
 
//o OTHER TALES. 
 
 Elisha paused beside the fence, and called to his 
 creditor: "Them pigs o yourn growed enny since yes 
 terday, Deacon ? " 
 
 "Why, hulloa, Lishy! Be that you ?" cried the 
 other, in the genial, whole-souled tones that he always 
 assumed when engaged in a horse trade, or some other 
 form of legalized robbery. " Step in," he continued, 
 pleasantly; "I ve been a-thinkin I d oughter dew a 
 leettle suthin ter kinder help ye aout, Lishy, an I m 
 a-goin ter make ye a present." 
 
 Elisha scaled the fence, and crossed over to the sty, 
 wondering what had made Deacon Darrer so generous 
 all of a sudden. 
 
 "Ye see," said the Deacon, pleasantly, "bein ez 
 it s Thanksgivin time, an I don t want ye ter hev no 
 hard feelin s, I thought I d give ye one o them porkers. 
 Pick aout a good un, Lishy, an take him along with ye. 
 Feed him up a mite, an they 11 be a good meal ter be 
 got aouten him." 
 
 Elisha selected a squeaking little porker, and de 
 parted with it safely tucked under his arm. Bill Perkins, 
 the Deputy Sheriff, who happened along half an hour 
 later, beheld Elisha watching the gambols of the little 
 runt beside its huge companion. Bill had not called 
 since the memorable occasion when he had carted away 
 as many of the household effects as he could seize, and 
 it was with some slight misgivings that Elisha saw him 
 strolling leisurely across the garden patch. 
 
 "Coin ter kill a critter, Lish ?" observed the 
 Sheriff. 
 
LISH POGRAM S THANKSGIVING HOG. 
 
 777 
 
 Yes," replied Elisha; "an I think mebbe I ll 
 hev a hog-guessin match Thanksgivin Day, fer ter 
 make a little fun in the neighborhood. What do ye 
 think that runt 11 weigh, Bill ? But I ain t a-goin tew 
 kill him. I m a-savin him fer a curiosity. Deacon 
 Darrer gin him tew me, an I guess there hain t nobody 
 in these ere parts ez kin show a present from Deacon 
 Darrer." 
 
 " So ye ve got tew pigs naouw instead o one," re 
 marked the Sheriff, as he climbed into the sty. "Wa-al, 
 Lishy, that s one more n the law allows a debtor tew 
 
72 OTHER TALES. 
 
 keep, an I 11 hev tew levy onto one on em. I guess 
 the big critter 11 dew." 
 
 When the legislature next assembled at Hartford, 
 the story of Lish Pogram s Thanksgiving hog was duly 
 recited by the member from his district, and the statute 
 relating to seizure of goods for debt was at once amended 
 so as to permit the poor debtor to keep two pigs in 
 stead of one. 
 
 But it came too late to save poor Lish Pogram s 
 bacon. 
 
BEANVILLE JOURNALISM. 
 
 How THE FOREMAN PUT THE EDITOR UP TO 
 A NEW RACKET. 
 
 r HE OLD YEAR had but a few 
 more hours of life. The sun 
 of 84 had gone down for 
 the last time on snow-clad 
 valley and wind-swept hill 
 top. It had set forever on 
 city and plain, on the man 
 sions of the rich and the 
 hovels of the poor. The 
 evening shadows were fall 
 ing on the spires and roofs of 
 Beanville. The old year was 
 dying; the wind moaning, under 
 the eaves of Deacon Pogram s barn, its only requiem. 
 
 From the street came the sound of sleigh-bells and 
 cheery laughter. The light from the parsonage fell soft 
 on the snow-clad front yard, and touched with ineffable 
 tenderness the advance-guard of a ravenous donation- 
 party which was approaching. Far more alluring was 
 
*74 OTHER TALES. 
 
 the light that shone through the chinks of the blinds 
 that shielded the "back room" of the Beanville tavern 
 from the gaze of the curious. Far brighter that which 
 streamed from the second-story windows of the Eagle 
 editorial and composing-rooms. 
 
 The old year was dying there, too, as well as on the 
 snow-clad valley and wind-swept hill-top. That was 
 shown by the subscription-bills which the editor was pre 
 paring for his patrons. 
 
 " I suppose you think you re going to collect some 
 of those subscription-bills," said the foreman, who stood 
 by, watching his theoretical chief prepare a stack of bills 
 to delinquent subscribers. 
 
 "Certainly. Why not?" responded the other. 
 " Ain t half of them at least as good as wheat? Did n t 
 they pay up last year as soon as the bills reached them ? " 
 Yes," replied the foreman, who thought he could 
 run the paper better than it had ever been run before; 
 "but last year, if I remember rightly, you d fulfilled 
 your duty to the subscribers, and this year, if my infor 
 mation is correct, you have n t." 
 
 "What are you driving at?" demanded the nomi 
 nal chief of the office. 
 
 "Well, I 11 tell you what I m driving at," said the 
 foreman, sternly. "Last year thanks to me you 
 took care to mention the name of every man who owed 
 his subscription before you sent him his bill. Then they 
 all felt well disposed, and were quite willing to pay up 
 when called upon. Have you done that this year? Just 
 look back at the file, and see if you have? Now the 
 
BEANVILLE JOURNALISM. 
 
 paper s all ready to go to press, and you re sending out 
 a lot of bills to folks that you have n t treated square. 
 You expect em all to pay up ; and, what s more, you re 
 counting on getting their money so s to meet that bill 
 for type next week. That s about the size of it, ain t it ? " 
 The editor admitted that it was, but added, apolo 
 getically, that he had mentioned everybody who could 
 be mentioned. 
 
 "What are you going to say about a man if he 
 does n t do anything worth mentioning?" he exclaimed: 
 " Did n t I give Dcncon Pogram and Deacon Tew a big 
 send-off on their horse trade ? Did n t I do the square 
 thing by Lish Deuzenbury when he sold his speckled 
 hen? Was n t Deacon Perkins 
 mentioned in good style when 
 he led the prayer-meeting? 
 May be you could ring in 
 more names than I have. 
 If so, you d better try it, 
 and I 11 go into the com 
 posing-room and see if I 
 can t get the paper to 
 press a little before mid 
 night. That 11 give better 
 satisfaction all round." 
 
 The foreman placidly 
 ignored the reflection on his own 
 lack of skill. He smiled blandly as 
 
 he produced a proof-slip from his pocket, and waved it 
 under the editor s nose. 
 
*7 6 OTHER TALES. 
 
 ^1 guess the sooner we trade off positions, the 
 better it 11 be," he said, calmly. " Now I 11 read you a 
 little something I wrote for just such an emergency as 
 this. It s in type now, and you can use your own 
 discretion which is n t very much, at the best about 
 putting it in. You re the boss here, not I. Now, this 
 is what I wrote so s to ring in the names of all those 
 people you Ye been sending bills to. I call it the Coun 
 try Church -Yard. It runs somewhat in this style: 
 
 " Winter has come. The soft-falling snow has 
 spread its dazzling mantle over the earth, covering hill 
 and meadow, and weighting the hemlocks with fleecy 
 loads. The mountain torrents are chained with an icy 
 key. The woodland paths are choked and impassable. 
 We are shut out from the old familiar haunts through 
 which we loved to wander when the Summer sun warmed 
 our blood, or when Autumn s leaves bestrewed our path 
 way. Where shall we stroll now? Let us hie us to the 
 quiet country church-yard. Let us pass through the 
 superb iron gateway, which stands as a lasting testi 
 monial to the public spirit of our fellow-citizen, Mr. 
 Hezekiah Trumbull, and the artistic excellence of the 
 products of the South Beanville Iron Foundry. 
 
 " < On the right of the gateway a stately marble 
 shaft greets our eye, and records the virtues of him who 
 sleeps beneath it, deeply mourned by his son-in-law, 
 Hiram Fitch, the popular furniture-dealer. A few faded 
 wreaths adorn the shaft, and show that the dead are not 
 forgotten by those who trade with Elisha Simonds, the 
 reliable florist. 
 
BRANVILLE JOURNALISM. 
 
 777 
 
 " < Who sleeps in yonder vault ? Whose crumbling 
 bones lie secure within Jabez Higginbotham s four walls 
 of solid and enduring masonry? The grated door is 
 fastened with a Yale lock, purchased at Joshua Nichol s 
 hardware store, (that 11 nail him for all 
 his job-printing, I guess,) and the "J 
 ivy which festoons the walls was 
 planted by the loving hands, 
 and watered by the tears of 
 the Widow Simpkins, who, 
 if report be true, will soon 
 be led again to the altar, ^ 
 
 with the rowen blush on her 
 cheeks. 
 
 " A few steps further on 
 we come to the modest inclosure 
 
 of Squire Stainsbury. Here there is no vainglory or 
 display. Little would the wayfarer think that beneath 
 these unostentatious brown-stone slabs the pick of 
 Henry Snow s job lot of tomb-stones; there are a few 
 more left sleep the relatives of the genial publisher 
 of the county map. 
 
 " Near by two men in rustic garb are at work on 
 a grave. The sound of pick and shovel breaks on the 
 still air. They are the lightning grave-diggers and 
 champion wood-sawyers of the county John Collins 
 and Henry Ashton. The village church-bell is solemnly 
 tolling John Pogram s eldest boy is at the bell-rope 
 and the funeral cortege is drawing near. We see the 
 waving plumes of Undertaker John Coffin s brand-new 
 
178 OTHER TALES. 
 
 hearse, and hear the jingle of the sleigh-bells. One 
 more Beanvillian has joined the great majority, and will 
 soon be committed to the dust from which he sprung. 
 
 "There," said the foreman, "don t you rather 
 think I ve covered the hull ground pretty thoroughly? 
 Now you can send out your bills with some chance of 
 hearing from them." 
 
 "Put it in," said the editor, briefly. 
 
HE STOCK- BROKER S 
 
 CHRISTMAS GIFT. 
 
 MR. KIRBY STONE came home 
 one night from his office in Broad 
 Street, with a pale face, disordered 
 hair, and general appearance of 
 anxiety and excitement. 
 
 His wife met him with the usual 
 ante-Christmas smile of welcome on 
 her face, and asked him pleasantly 
 if he had stopped in at Tiffany s on 
 his way uptown, to look at those 
 emeralds she admired so much. 
 
 No ; he had not thought of such a thing as emer 
 alds. How could he, with the market in such a condition ? 
 Squaretoe & Hustler had made an assignment that very 
 day ; the affairs of the Argentine Republic were in such 
 a shape that no one knew whether their seven per cent. 
 Guano bonds would ever be redeemed or not ; and as for 
 the London market, he hardly dared to cast his eyes in 
 that direction. 
 
 " Tell me, my dear," he continued, plaintively, 
 
OTHER TALES. 
 
 " under these circumstances, and with the Rothschilds 
 hesitating about the Russian loan, and refusing point 
 blank to advance another cent to help the Paris Bourse, 
 how can I think of such a thing as your Christmas 
 present ! " 
 
 And Mrs. Stone, who knew nothing of the stock 
 market, nor of the relation of the Russian loan to her 
 husband s bank account, admitted that, of course, under 
 such extraordinary conditions as he had named it was 
 out of the question to think of Christmas presents. 
 "But I do hope, Kirby," she added, affection 
 ately, "that this < flurry, as you call it, will not 
 last long, for I shall be bitterly disappointed if 
 the holidays go by without bringing to me a gift 
 at least as handsome and costly as that which I 
 received from you last year. You have given me, 
 in years gone by, diamonds, rubies, and pearls. 
 Now, I need only those emeralds to make my 
 collection complete." 
 
 "Mary," said the broker, speaking with a sud 
 den tenderness, "can you be brave? Can you hear 
 the worst unmoved ? It may be that I shall have no 
 present for you this year." 
 
 "Kirby, what is it ? " demanded his wife, hoarsely. 
 " Let me know the worst without delay ! Say that 
 you are not short on Villards or long on Lackawanna, 
 like that Mr. Bungle who failed last year." 
 
 "It is not that, Mary," he responded, sadly; "I 
 hold fewer of the Villard securities than any man on the 
 Street, except Mr. Villard himself. No, my loved one, 
 
THE STOCK- BROKER S CHRISTMAS GIFT. 181 
 
 I am short of gold, and unless I can raise three thousand 
 dollars to-morrow, we are beggared. I have tried every 
 thing, and now but one chance remains." 
 
 "And that is?" asked Mary. 
 
 " Your jewels. I could pawn them for a 
 few weeks, and tide over the crisis with the 
 money they would bring." 
 
 " I can not ! " moaned his wife, wringing 
 her hands in agony. 
 
 "Then," said Kirby, resolutely, "there 
 will be no more Christmas presents 
 never, nevermore ! " 
 
 A moment later, acting under a sud 
 den impulse, she flung the jewels in his 
 lap, and escaped to her own room where 
 she gave way to transports of grief. 
 
 Her husband smiled complacently the 
 next morning as he locked the jewels care 
 fully in his safe : 
 
 " I think this will be the cheapest Christinas I have 
 known in years, and the happiest, too." 
 
 Christmas Eve finds Mary Stone a changed woman. 
 The loss of what Kirby calls her " sparklers" has brought 
 into her heart a grief such as she has never known 
 before. Seated by the fireside she grieves bitterly for 
 the jewels which she fears have gone from her forever. 
 She has long since, ceased even to think of the once 
 coveted emeralds. 
 
*8a OTHER TALES. 
 
 A light step behind her, a hand on her shoulder, 
 and the voice of Kirby exclaims : 
 
 " Mary, my own, here are your jewels ! I have 
 managed to get them out of hock for your Christmas 
 present. Take them, my darling, and be happy." 
 
 Mary Stone burst into tears, as she pressed the 
 jewels to her heart; and her husband smiled to think 
 of the cheap and happy Christmas which his genius had 
 procured for her. 
 
IN THE "400" AND OUT. 
 OUT ON THE SIDEWALK. 
 
 FIRST OUTSIDER (looking enviously in through 
 window). My! Don t I wish I could be in there with 
 those swells ! What an elegant time those Four-Hundred 
 fellows have when they get 
 together ! 
 
 SECOND OUTSIDER. 
 Pretty hard, ain t it, Bill, 
 that some of us poor devils 
 have to toil and sweat and 
 get precious few of the 
 good things of life, while 
 those folks have education 
 and money, and champagne to 
 drink, and everything else that they want to make 
 em happy. 
 
 FIRST OUTSIDER. I just wish I could hear what 
 they re talking about. When a lot of gilt-edged people 
 like that get together, w r ho ve had every advantage 
 travel and culture can give, there s a feast of wit as 
 well as food and drink, I can tell you, 
 
OTHER TALES. 
 
 IN AT THE DINNER TABLE. 
 
 MRS. GETTHERE SOMEHOW (almost tearfully). 
 
 My dear Mr. McGallister, can t you do something for 
 poor Lillie ? The child has set her heart on going to 
 the Matriarchs ball ; and if you only would get her an 
 invitation, why, I d do anything in the world I possibly 
 could for you. 
 
 MR. McGALLiSTER. Lillie? Is that the scrawny 
 one, or the plump one with dimples? Really, Mrs. 
 Somehow, doncherknow I d be charmed to do anything 
 I could for you, but we have to be very select. 
 
 MRS. SOMEHOW. Oh ! She s not so very scrawny; 
 really and truly she s not ; and you need n t 
 ask me. I 11 promise not to come. And 
 then, you know, I 11 ask anybody to my 
 dinners you want me to. 
 
 MR. McGALLiSTER. Yes ; but 
 doncherknow there was tame duck on 
 your table the last time I dined with 
 you ; and that will never do in the 
 world, doncherknow. But I 11 see 
 what I can do. Major, can you tell 
 me when a door is not a door ? 
 
 7// ///%\ &?l l^/ THE MA J R ( one f the bright 
 
 est wits in Society). When it is 
 ajar. (Roars of laughter.) 
 MRS. SOMEHOW. How very, very clever! 
 Mr. McGallister, you do manage to gather about you 
 the very wittiest people I ever met. 
 
 MR, McGALUSTER (addressing solemn English 
 
IN THE "joo" AND OUT. 
 
 swell). I suppose you must see a great difference be 
 tween society here and in London, Lord Finecut? 
 
 LORD FlNECUT. Oh, no; really, not the least, I 
 assure you. (aside.) God bless my soul, I should rather 
 think I did ! 
 
 MR. McGALLlSTER. Really, you re very 
 flattering and kind, doncherknovv. We try 
 as hard as we can to have it like the genu 
 ine London article. We re very select, 
 but we re merciful. Never cut a real 
 nob, even if he is poor. Always go 
 round the corner, doncherknow. 
 
 THE MAJOR. Have any trouble 
 pairing off the guests at your dinner 
 party last week, Mac ? 
 
 MR. MCGALLISTER. No; 
 not much. One gentleman 
 objected to taking Mrs. 
 Somehow down to dinner, 
 but I talked him round 
 in a few minutes. Did n t 
 I, Mrs. Somehow? 
 
 MRS. SOMEHOW. 
 I m sure you did it beau 
 tifully, Mr. McGallister. 
 
 LORD FINECUT (open- 
 mouthed with amazement). 
 Good Gawd ! 
 
 MR. MCGALLISTER. If there s any ball or recep 
 tion you d like to go to while you re in town, my Lord, 
 
1 86 OTHER TALES. 
 
 just let me know. I can get you invitations anywhere. 
 They dare n t refuse me. 
 
 LORD FINECUT. Thanks, awfully, deah boy; but, 
 really, I ve seen quite a good deal of society here, 
 already. (Relapses into silence, and listens to a dis 
 cussion about the cost of various dinners and parties. 
 Then glances at window, and, seeing two outsiders, says 
 to himself.) What a relief it would be to go and have 
 a glass of beer with those chaps out there ! May be I 
 might learn something about Americans from them. 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE HUMORIST. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE PROSE WRITINGS OF BILL 
 MILDEW, PROFESSIONAL HUMORIST. 
 
 At /J. Influenced by a German Professor and a Few 
 Easy Lessons in Metaphysics in Pursuit of the Un- 
 Jindoutable. 
 
 ND WHAT, after all, is to be the end 
 of this life whose mystery we shall 
 never know ? Well did the poet 
 of ancient heathen days exclaim : 
 "Arma virumque cano ! " He 
 was like many modern writers, 
 thinking more of deeds of arms 
 than of the mind. He sang of 
 the prowess of the great warriors 
 of early days, and of their splen 
 did achievements. 
 
 But, as he sang, did he have no 
 thought of the dominant influence of mind 
 over matter? Why did he not sing of what 
 he would have called in his own pellucid tongue, 
 v Mentis Imperium?" W 7 hy did he leave no record 
 
i88 OTHER TALES. 
 
 behind him of the vast mental powers of his day, to 
 which Rome owed its final subjugation? 
 
 It remained for the great Fenelon to say, after the 
 world had waited hundreds of years for his utterance : 
 "Calypso ne ponvait se consoler du depart d Ulysse." 
 Even at that comparatively advanced stage of history, 
 men, and women, too, were thinking more of physical 
 prowess than of the great attainments of thought and 
 culture which should have claimed their attention. 
 
 Even Cicero, when he hurled his fiercest invective 
 against Cataline, demanded, in tones of fervid eloquence, 
 how long he intended to abuse the patience of the 
 Roman senate. 
 
 It behooves us, whose minds and pens are perhaps 
 destined to wield a mighty influence throughout this 
 broad land, to remember that intellect is, after all, 
 bound to assert its sway. 
 
 At 19. Influenced by "St. Elmo," " Guerndale" 
 blighted affections and a general desire to ror- 
 tray Himself as he would like to appear. In 
 pursuit of revenge. 
 
 St. George De Vere, despite his extra 
 ordinary intellectual gifts and rare personal 
 charms, was not exactly a popular man. 
 Beneath an outer crust of high-bred, 
 haughty reserve, there lay a generous, 
 noble nature; but this side of his char 
 acter was revealed only to his intimate friends. 
 
 Women were irresistibly drawn toward him. There 
 was a look of veiled tenderness in his dark eyes, a touch 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE HUMORIST. 189 
 
 of sadness in the lines about his firm mouth, and a 
 bitter cynicism in his speech that seemed to tell of 
 some great and hidden sorrow. But of the nature of 
 this secret grief none knew, for his was not a spirit 
 that could either brook inquiry or speak of its deepest 
 feelings. 
 
 It was late in the evening, and the guests at Vere 
 Hall were chatting together in the oak parlor. St. 
 George stood on the bear-skin rug in front of the great 
 fire-place, as usual the centre of a group of women who 
 crowded about him, listening to the bitter cynicisms 
 which fell from his lips. 
 
 On a divan near him sat Maude Beverley, appar 
 ently engrossed with the portfolio of rare engravings 
 which rested on her knee. No one who saw her there 
 that night would have dreamt what bitter feelings were 
 astir beneath the filmy lace that rose and fell with every 
 pulsation of her heart. 
 
 There was only one thing that betrayed her feel 
 ings, and that was the flush which ever and anon crim 
 soned her cheek as she listened to the gay banter that 
 went on around her. 
 
 St. George had a way a trick, the envious ones 
 declared of throwing into his voice an exquisite shade 
 of tenderness and feeling, which never failed in its effect 
 on the woman for whom it was intended ; and it was 
 these wonderful tones that from time to time swept 
 across the heart-strings of Maude Beverley, and brought 
 the flush to her fair cheek, and the tremor to her proud 
 lips, 
 
jgo 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 And he, did he feel no pity for the woman whose 
 heart he was so cruelly lacerating? None could tell. 
 None could read the thoughts that were hidden by the 
 mocking, cynical laugh, or guess that deeper passions 
 were at work despite his apparent gayety. 
 
 At 24. Influenced by an affection as yet unblighted, 
 and one or two novels of the modern analytical school. 
 In pursuit of the ideal intellectual life. 
 
 Elvira smiled at the young man s frank avowal. It 
 was a smile that told, almost as plainly as words, the 
 sincere interest he had awakened in her heart. It was 
 not the merry, innocent laugh of sunny girlhood, nor 
 the more mellow hilarity of the matron. It was simply 
 one of those rare smiles which became her so well, 
 softening, as they did, the intellectual austerity of her 
 face, and leading one to marvel that she indulged in 
 them so seldom. 
 
 The smile was not 
 lost upon Burnham, 
 though he affected 
 not to notice it. 
 He was sitting 
 in a rather 
 negligent 
 attitude, 
 apparently 
 engrossed in the 
 
 contemplation of one of the once famous series of the 
 "Voyage of Life," which hung on the wall before him. 
 It was the one in which the voyager is represented a$ 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE HUMORIST. igi 
 
 a youth standing on the prow of his boat, and gazing, 
 undaunted, at the dark clouds of adversity and trouble 
 which confront him. 
 
 "What are you thinking about?" demanded Elvira, 
 suddenly. 
 
 "I am wondering," replied Burnham, "how such 
 a conventional treatment of so great a subject could ever 
 have commanded general attention. For example : why 
 should clouds be made to represent difficulties and dis 
 aster? Why not take something tangible something 
 that we would really fear, and that could not be warded 
 off by an umbrella or a waterproof coat ? 
 
 He was silent after this, and for a moment Elvira 
 regarded him curiously. She may have felt a twinge of 
 resentment and disappointment when she learned that he 
 had been thinking of the picture instead of herself; but 
 that feeling, if any such there were, was lost in one of 
 admiration for the keen analytical qualities of a mind 
 that could conceive such brilliant and subtle criticism. 
 
 " Don t you want I should show you the new pict 
 ures that were sent me yesterday ? " she inquired, with a 
 look of expectancy, and speaking in a tone full of the 
 deepest significance. 
 
 It was a way she had of uttering trivialities in a 
 wonderfully effective manner. 
 
 Burnham was visibly moved, but at first he made 
 no reply. For an instant he seemed lost in thought. 
 Then, lifting his head from his elbow, he replied in slow, 
 measured cadence : 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
I 9 2 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 At jo. Influenced by column rates and their rela 
 tion to comfort and luxury in the home. In pursuit 
 of a living. 
 
 It was after one o clock when Mr. McGuffin returned 
 from what he facetiously termed his "Lodge." 
 He was a trifle unsteady in his gait ; so much 
 so, in fact, that he mistook the door-mat for a 
 banana-peel, and, in his endeavors to find 
 the key -hole of the door, executed a pas 
 seul of such a complicated nature that he 
 completely lost his balance and fell against 
 the railing with a whoop of terror and an 
 guish, which caused Mrs. McGuffin to open 
 the window of her room and call out: "Is 
 that you, Mr. McGuffin?" 
 
 "Yes," he replied, meekly, and added: 
 " I ve lost my latch-key, so I wish you d 
 come down and let me in." 
 
 His better half muttered something of 
 a very uncomplimentary nature, in a dis 
 tinctly irascible tone, and then slammed 
 the window and prepared to descend to his assistance. 
 
 But before she could put on her dressing-gown and 
 grope her way down the dark stair-case, her husband 
 saw a sight calculated to cause dismay to the stoutest 
 heart. A large William goat, which pastures in the 
 fertile coal-yard adjacent to the McGuffin homestead, 
 was enjoying a moonlight stroll in the street, and sud 
 denly beholding the swaying figure of the Lodge member 
 mistook it in the darkness for some strange animal. For 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE HUMORIST. . 193 
 
 a moment the goat paused irresolute on the curbstone ; 
 then, with a hoarse bray of anger, he charged up the 
 steps, eager for the fray. 
 
 At this opportune moment Mrs. McGuffin opened 
 the hall-door, and sternly requested her lord and master 
 to "come in, and not keep me standing here all night ! " 
 The invitation was accepted by the goat and so 
 suddenly that the good lady did not stand there more 
 than four seconds after uttering it. 
 
 McGuffin heard a blood-curdling shriek 
 
THE CURIOSITIES CHRISTMAS. 
 
 CLEAR, COLD, STARLIT NIGHT and 
 Christmas Day at hand. The 
 streets are filled with shoppers, 
 and the frosty air is resonant with 
 the music of the Third Avenue 
 horse-car bells. Surely, every one 
 should be merry to-night and give 
 thanks for the joyous holiday season. 
 But Susan Phreak is not merry 
 to-night, as she sits sewing by the fire in 
 her humble but neat apartment on an East- Side street. 
 She is waiting for her husband s return ; he has been out 
 all day looking for work. A quick step in the hall out 
 side, and Susan is at the door to greet him. 
 
 " Alas ! " cries her husband, as he sinks wearily 
 into a rocking-chair by the fire, " I have roamed the 
 streets all day long in search of an engagement, but only 
 to meet with rebuffs on every side. They tell me that 
 Armless Wonders are a drug on the market, and are not 
 worth their salt in comparison with such curiosities as 
 the Human Griddle Cake, who broils himself a beautiful 
 
f9 6 OTHER TALES. 
 
 golden brown every hour, or the Transparent Lady, 
 through whose calf one may watch the total eclipse of 
 the sun." 
 
 As John Phreak utters these words he sighs deeply, 
 and with a deft movement of his left foot unties his 
 woolen comforter from his neck and places it on the 
 table. He fastens his eye on Benjamin, the Learned 
 Pig, who is playing solitaire in a warm nook by the fire, 
 and says: " Christmas is at hand, Susan, 
 and we have nothing for our dinner 
 except poor Ben - 
 
 " O John ! " ex 
 claims Susan, 
 reproachfully; 
 and the fright 
 ened Pig 
 drops his 
 cards, and 
 effaces himself 
 from the scene by 
 creeping under the sofa. 
 
 It can not be denied that the Phreak family were 
 playing in hard luck ; for, though it would be difficult to 
 find two more industrious, sober and painstaking fakirs 
 than the Armless Wonder and his wife, the Tattooed 
 Princess, still competition and the fickle popular taste 
 had gradually crowded them from the platform on which 
 for years they had earned their daily bread. As John 
 and Susan sat by the fire this cold December night, 
 their thoughts went back to the days of their courtship 
 
THE CURIOSITIES CHRISTMAS. /97 
 
 in the old Bowery Museum, where they sat side by side 
 on the same platform. Susan was thinking of the notes 
 which the dashing young Armless Wonder used to write 
 to her, with his pen held firmly between his toes, and 
 John recalled the day when his peerless tattooed love 
 first burst upon his enraptured vision, to the rage and 
 envy of the Circassian Beauty, Fat Woman, and all the 
 other female marvels of that era. He remembered, also, 
 their wedding, celebrated with great pomp and splendor 
 in the " theatorium " of the establishment, and the gap 
 ing crowds that viewed them during their honeymoon 
 
 a triumphal progress from one museum to another 
 
 throughout the country. 
 
 Three years of happy 
 
 married life, and but one 
 
 great sorrow. Their 
 
 only child, the longed- 
 for darling, for whom 
 
 their hearts had sorely 
 
 yearned, was a bitter 
 
 disappointment. They 
 
 had hoped that the 
 
 little stranger would 
 
 come into the world 
 
 either tattooed or armless, 
 
 or with an elastic skin, or at 
 
 least fitted in some way to cope with the world. But, 
 
 alas ! Nature had been unkind to him, and the son and 
 
 heir of the Phreak family was a sturdy, well -formed 
 
 infant, for all the world like any other mortal. During 
 
their married life, Benjamin, the Learned Pig, had been 
 their constant companion. He had been presented to 
 them, on the occasion of their wedding, by the proprietor 
 of the museum, and by his sagacity and cunning had 
 proved himself of inestimable value to them in many an 
 extremity. It was the first time that John Phreak had 
 ever referred to him as a possible edible, instead of as a 
 trusted friend. 
 
 He must have repented of it now, for he spoke 
 kindly to Benjamin, and called him out from under the 
 sofa to play a game of euchre with him. Now the in 
 telligent quadruped well knew the straits to which the 
 family were put, but never before had the alternative 
 been presented to him of being served, himself, as the 
 piece de resistance of the Christmas dinner, or of enjoy 
 ing the repast as one of the family, as he always had 
 before. 
 
 "Poor little fellow!" said Susan, sadly glancing at 
 
THE CURIOSITIES CHRISTMAS. rgg 
 
 the cradle in which the child was sleeping: "if it had 
 pleased heaven to make him nothing more than a spotted 
 boy, I would not murmur; but it is awful, John, to 
 think of that innocent babe coming into the world so 
 terribly handicapped. Why, even if we were to get an 
 engagement, who would take care of our little one ? Ben 
 gets so absorbed in his game of solitaire that I am almost 
 afraid to leave the child alone with him. By the way," 
 she added, as she rose to spread the supper table, "I 
 think that we had better send all those old duds of 
 Mama s to be sold somewhere. They re only in the 
 way here ; and, any how, the old Circassian business is 
 dead to the world now." 
 
 Her mama had been a beauty in her time a Cir 
 cassian Beauty and the "duds" referred to by her 
 daughter consisted of a gaudy costume of cotton velvet, 
 and a wig of long, straight, bleached hair, of the kind 
 often noticed on the steppes of Circassia and the plat 
 forms of the Bowery. 
 
 The Learned Pig heard her, and an idea suddenly 
 seized him. The effects of the retired Beauty were piled 
 in a heap in one corner of the room. Benjamin leaped 
 from his chair, pried open the band-box with his snout, 
 and in another moment appeared before his astonished 
 master and mistress, crowned with the bleached wig. 
 
 Then he seated himself on his haunches beside the 
 cradle, and began to rock it with his right forefoot, while 
 he looked appealingly at John and Susan Phreak. 
 
 " I m on, Benjamin ! " cried John, joyfully. 
 "That s a good fake, if ever there was one." And, 
 
2 oo OTHER TALES. 
 
 with hope in his heart, he started for the Dime Museum. 
 The contract was signed that very night, and on Christ 
 mas Day the huge red-and-blue posters announced the 
 engagement, at an enormous salary, of " The Tattooed 
 Queen and Prince Royal of Circassia, attended by the 
 Marvelous Trained Circassian Porcine Nurse." 
 
 And as the faithful Benjamin ate his Christmas 
 dinner, he gave devout thanks that his place was on a 
 chair, instead of on a table, garnished with parsley and 
 with a lemon in his mouth. 
 
AT THE CHROMO-LITERARY RECEPTION. 
 
 [RS. SYMPLE (patronizingly). Why, 
 Kate ! how in the world do you 
 happen to be here among all these 
 bright, clever people ? Thought 
 you never strayed beyond the 
 limits of the Four Hundred. 
 
 MRS. MODE (smiling). 
 Why, Arabella, don t you know 
 that since Mr. McAllister s book 
 came out, no one will confess to 
 membership in the Four Hundred ? We must seek other 
 pastures till the excitement dies away. That s one 
 reason why I came here to-night. Another reason is 
 my desire to meet a few bright, clever people like 
 yourself. Now do be obliging and tell me who all the 
 rest of you are. 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. Oh, I hardly know where to begin ! 
 The rooms are filled with celebrities of every description. 
 Whom do you see that you wish to know about ? 
 
 MRS. MODE. Who is that tall woman in the queer, 
 limp gown? 
 
MRS. SYMPLE. That s the celebrated Mrs. Hope 
 ful Squills, who goes in for Buddha and wears common- 
 sense garments. She s all the rage this Winter, and I 
 see she has quite thrown poor Mrs. Rank into the shade. 
 
 MRS. MODE. And what are the mental qualifica 
 tions of poor Mrs. Rank? 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. Why, have you never heard of 
 
AT THE CHROMO- LITERARY RECEPTION. 203 
 
 Mrs. Rank? (Pityingly,) Oh! excuse me, I forgot; 
 this is your first introduction to cultivated circles. Mrs. 
 Rank speaks Norwegian and knows Ibsen. She will 
 probably read one or two scenes from the "Doll s 
 House" before the evening is over. 
 
 MRS. MODE (in alarm). Good gracious! 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. Oh, there s that wonderful Mr. 
 Patterji ! He s a real Brahmin, and it s perfectly de 
 lightful to hear him talk. He s so learned ! and can tell 
 you everything about India and Buddha and all that sort 
 of thing. He s perfectly elegant, and they say he s 
 going to be converted to Christianity. 
 
 MRS. MODE. If he s the man who sold me a 
 smuggled camel s hair shawl last Winter and he looks 
 very much like him, too the sooner he s converted to 
 Christianity, the better it will be for the Christians. 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. Mercy, Kate! Mr. Patterji doesn t 
 go around selling shawls. He would scorn to do such a 
 thing. He gives lectures on theosophy, and gets a hun 
 dred dollars apiece for them, too. 
 
 MRS. MODE. Well, the result is the same; but 
 who is that man with the big nose and sharp Jewish face ? 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. That s Count Stepoff, the Russian 
 nobleman who was such a favorite in Boston, last Winter. 
 He s a real Count and just as fascinating as he can be. 
 He was received in the most exclusive artistic and literary 
 circles in Boston, and everybody went wild over him. 
 
 MRS. MODE (perplexed). But there are no Jews 
 in the Russian nobility. Surely, you must be mistaken. 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. Not at all. I was introduced to 
 
204 OTHER TALES. 
 
 him last week, and everybody says he is all right. Why, 
 he s talking to a great friend of his, Mr. Beeswax Apple- 
 worth Crib, the Boston litterateur who translates Tolstoi , 
 and knows everything about Russia. Do you suppose he 
 would have anything to do with a bogus Count ? 
 
 MRS. MODE. I m sure I can t say; but tell me 
 who is that rather pretty woman, with the gold eye 
 glasses ? 
 
 MRS. SYMPLE. That s Mrs. Ketchum, who has a 
 wonderful system of curing all diseases by locking you 
 up in a dark room, and telling you what to think about. 
 She s perfectly wonderful, and never eats any meat. 
 A most interesting woman ; I m sure you d like her. 
 
 MRS. CHASER (the hostess, to REV. GIDEON 
 MEALY, of the Established Church). So good of you 
 to come, Mr. Mealy ! To whom shall I introduce you ? 
 I m sure there are ever so many people here whom you 
 really ought to know. There s Dr. Higgins, who used 
 to be a Presbyterian minister, and has lately embraced 
 theosophy; and there s Miss Portia, who has played on 
 the real stage, and is trying to form a Church and Stage 
 
 Guild in this country; and there s Father Rooney 
 
 plain Mr. Rooney he calls himself, now who is a con 
 verted priest and who, they say, is going to get married, 
 and there s 
 
 THE REV. MR. MEALY. Pardon me, but I wish 
 to speak to an old friend of mine over there (makes a 
 
AT THE CHROMO- LITERARY RECEPTION. 205 
 
 precipitate escape through the back parlor to the hall, 
 and thence to the street, where he finishes his sentence) 
 in Waverley Place. 
 
 Miss PAULINE PROLL McPRAY (poetess). My 
 dear Mr. Fantail, I can not tell you how deeply you 
 touched me by your exquisite recital of Browning last 
 Monday. You really ought to go on the stage. With 
 your precious gifts of voice and figure, you would win a 
 wonderful name for yourself. 
 
 MR. FANTAIL (Browning reader, 
 water - color artist, poet and 
 member in full standing of the 
 Mutual Admiration Society, to 
 which MISS McPRAY belongs). 
 Positively, you flatter me, Miss 
 McPray. But how soon are we 
 to have another volume of those 
 divine, tender sonnets, which 
 seem actually to throb with the 
 essence of sweetness? 
 
 MISS McPRAY. Really, 
 Mr. Fantail, that is too, too 
 much to say of my poor little verses ! 
 
 MRS. CHASER (leading up COUNT STEPOFF and 
 
 MR. CRIB). Mrs. Mode, permit me to introduce to 
 
 you Count Stepoff, the Russian nobleman, who gives 
 
206 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 such delightful teas at his rooms, and is well acquainted 
 with all the best people in Boston. And this is Mr. 
 Beeswax Appleworth Crib, who translates Tolstoi, and 
 has written such charming articles on modern Russian 
 society. 
 
 (The COUNT and MR. CRIB bow very low, and 
 MRS. MODE surveys them with a well-bred smile of 
 amusement.) 
 
 MR. CRIB. I hope you have found this little 
 reunion agreeable, Mrs. Mode. 
 
AT THE CHROMO- LITERARY RECEPTION. 207 
 
 MRS. MODE (sweetly). Very amusing, indeed, 
 Mr. Crib. 
 
 MR. CRIB (who knows that MRS. MODE is a great 
 swell, and respects her accordingly). I am glad to 
 hear you say that. My friend, Count Stepoff, says that 
 it reminds him very much of St. Petersburg. 
 
 MRS. MODE (placidly surveying the COUNT through 
 her lorgnette). Indeed? 
 
 MR. CRIB. Speak a little Russian, Count. I 
 wish Mrs. Mode to hear what a musical language it is. 
 
 COUNT STEPOFF (who has made his way into 
 society with a Hebrew nose, a brass samovar, and two 
 pounds of tea). Wobblety gobblety, mugglety 
 pugglety pretzel turn verein. 
 
 MR. CRIB (gravely). I assure you, Mrs. Mode, 
 his accent is perfect. I have translated a number of 
 Tolstoi s books. 
 
 MRS. MODE. Then the accent must have changed 
 a good deal since I was in St. Petersburg, five years 
 ago but where is the Count ? 
 
 MR. CRIB. There he goes, and there they all go. 
 Supper s announced. (Joins the stampede, while MRS. 
 MODE calls for her carriage.) 
 
THE MASTER THIEF. 
 
 NCE UPON A TIME there 
 
 was a retired thief 
 who desired that 
 his son should fol 
 low the profession 
 in which he himself 
 had amassed a for 
 tune, so he appren 
 ticed him to an old 
 friend who had a 
 seat on the Petro 
 leum Board, and 
 was as slippery as the 
 commodity in which he dealt. 
 And the youth remained there 
 
 seven years ; and at the end of that time he returned to 
 his father s house, with a note from the head of the firm 
 stating that he was entirely too smart for their business. 
 The son desired his father to set him up in business for 
 himself; but the retired thief said that before he did that 
 the young man must show his proficiency as a robber. 
 
a jo OTHER TALES. 
 
 11 Now," he said, " if you can steal from me I shall 
 believe you are competent to go into business on your 
 own account." 
 
 The following Sunday the youth went down to the 
 large Coney Island Hotel which he knew his father 
 frequented, disguised himself as a waiter, and secured a 
 position by giving the head-waiter five dollars and a 
 promise of half of all he could make by "knocking 
 down " on the house. When the old man arrived, his 
 
 son had a table ready for him, and he served him with 
 choice dishes, and filled his glass with Chateau Margaux 
 of rare Ohio vintage. And when the retired thief saw 
 that his check amounted to $24.75 he said that it was 
 outrageous robbery ; but he paid the check, and his son 
 
THE MASTER THIEF. 211 
 
 showed it to him that night when he returned home, 
 and laughed, at the same time, in merry glee. 
 
 So, the old man acknowleged the corn charged 
 for at the rate of fifty cents an ear but said that be 
 fore he could furnish capital for his son s business the 
 young man must give him further proof of his ability. 
 
 "I can give you a sure pointer on the oil market ," 
 began the audacious youth ; but the father cut him short 
 with some remarks on filial ingratitude which caused 
 him to slink off in shame and confusion. 
 
 The next day the young man told his father that 
 he ought to buy some pictures to adorn the walls of 
 his house, and accordingly the old thief went forth to 
 procure some. He entered an art gallery, and it was 
 his son, skillfully disguised, who waited on him and 
 led him, unresisting, to a secret chamber back of the 
 store. Then he caused the lights to be turned up so 
 that they shone full on a huge painting in a gilt frame. 
 Then he assured the retired thief that the picture was 
 " genoowine hand-made," because it had one whole 
 side of the room to itself. And the old man asked if 
 the picture possessed any breadth of tone, and the 
 undaunted youth said: 
 
 "Yes, it has breadth of tone till you can t rest." 
 
 "But I don t see any atmospheric qualities," con 
 tinued the retired thief. 
 
 Accordingly the salesman lit two more gas jets, and 
 exclaimed triumphantly : 
 
 " There ! don t you see them now? " 
 
 And the father acknowledged that he did, although 
 
the salesman offered to turn on the electric lights if he 
 required them. 
 
 And, finally, the old man bought the picture for 
 thirteen thousand four hundred and seventy-five dollars, 
 and was grateful to the young man for letting him have 
 it at that price. But his gratitude was not a marker on 
 that of the proprietors of the gallery, who straightway 
 paid a year s rent, and declared that the rest of the day 
 should be given over to rejoicing. 
 
 And the next day the youth explained to his father 
 the ingenious mechanical processes whereby the picture 
 together with three hundred exactly like it was 
 made ; and he showed him the check he had received 
 as his commission on the sale, and then claimed his 
 reward. 
 
THE MASTER THIEF. 213 
 
 But the old man gnashed his teeth in the bitterness 
 of his woe, and declared that, after all, the art of picture- 
 selling was merely a primitive form of robbery, and that 
 his son must prove his ability on a higher professional 
 plane. 
 
 And the youth departed, vowing vengeance against 
 his sire ; and he went straightway before the chief ruler 
 of the city and laid information against the retired thief, 
 so that the chief ruler summoned one of his subordinates 
 and commanded him to "run him in." And the old 
 man, having been lodged in jail, sent for the warden and 
 asked how much it would cost him to procure a bonds 
 man. And the warden said he thought he could fix it 
 for him, but if he wished to go out it would be necessary 
 for a deputy sheriff to accompany him. So, the deputy 
 led the master thief to a gentleman who made a specialty 
 of putting his name on bail bonds for people whose 
 standing in society was not good. 
 
 This gentleman signed the bond on terms which 
 caused the retired thief to take off his hat and enquire 
 respectfully where he received his training, and what 
 particular line he was following just then; "because," 
 he added, "I 11 want a partner when I get out of this, 
 and you would suit me right down to the ground." 
 
 " That s all right," said the bondsman, as he 
 removed his false beard, " but you must content yourself 
 with a silent interest." 
 
 Then the retired thief recognized the features of his 
 own son, and he cheerfully made over to him a large 
 share of what property he had left. 
 
214 
 
 OTHER TALES. 
 
 And the young man took the money and opened a 
 dentist s office in one of the uptown streets, and lived 
 happily ever after, honored and envied by brigands of 
 every degree. In the course of time he married the 
 daughter of the janitor of a fashionable apartment 
 house, and she proved an invaluable helpmeet. 
 
AN UNDIPLOMATIC "DIARY. 
 
 DECEMBER 30TH. Would God that the Princess 
 Effluvia had never seen me. Here I am, ban 
 ished, in the depth of Winter, to St. Petersburgh, and 
 all because my presence is dangerous to the peace of 
 mind of the German princesses ! What a twinkle there 
 was in my sovereign s eye when he bade me adieu, 
 poking me at the same time in the ribs and saying, 
 "Tie cs un brave garfon!" 
 (You re a cuckoo.) 
 
 JANUARY 5TH. St. 
 
 Petersburgh at last, 
 
 after an interminable / zT*LzmaK \ mxawa*3& ^ , ( t 
 
 journey across the // /, 
 
 steppes and ice- $^J 
 
 bound plains. The 
 
 Czar sent a brace of 
 
 Grand Dukes to meet 
 
 me at the station, and 
 
 offer me my choice of the Imperial palaces ; but I prefer 
 
 the modest quarters, close to our embassy, which my 
 
216 OTHER TALES. 
 
 sovereign ordered for me by telegraph. "It is a delicate 
 mission," he said to me on parting, "and only to you 
 would I entrust this secret." I find I am to be lionized. 
 What a bore ! I would like to go into some business 
 that does not require me to be irresistible to the ladies. 
 
 JANUARY 6TH. Dropped in to see the Czar at the 
 Touchemoff Palace a handsome house, fitted with all 
 the modern improvements, perfect drainage, bomb-proof, 
 and no malaria and was warmly welcomed by the 
 sovereign. His Majesty observed that it was a cold day, 
 and that an early frost had been predicted by the weather 
 prophet ; a remark which made it apparent to an old 
 and grizzled diplomat like myself that he desired to gain 
 time. He said the Empress would see me later, and 
 dismissed me with a courteous Allez vous en ! " (Git !) 
 The Empress, received me in the afternoon, and tried 
 not to show that she disliked me. I felt tempted 
 but, no, my fascinations have made me trouble enough 
 already. I will be merciful this time. 
 
 JANUARY 7TH. Count Longbow invited me to a 
 supper to-night to meet M lle Nathalie, the premiere of 
 the opera. A very pleasant evening. Just as the party 
 broke up, the Count killed himself just because M lle 
 Nathalie said I was the only real gentleman in the room, 
 and she would be pleased to have me call and take her 
 out to supper some evening. This has been rather an 
 off day for me, 
 
JANUARY STH. Ball to-night at the American 
 legation. Professor West, the American minister, like 
 most of his compatriots, is rich and wears gray chin 
 whiskers and no moustache. While I was standing 
 between Prince Borrowdollar and the old Countess of 
 Whiskyskin I beheld a woman in a tailor-made suit of 
 pansy-colored brocade, open at the front and garnished 
 down the front breadth with passementerie and ruchings. 
 As I looked at her, I involuntarily hummed the old 
 couplet beginning: "She was the belle of the ball." 
 And that, too, although the Einsteins, the Lippmanns - 
 
2i8 OTHER TALES. 
 
 in short, the very cream of the court circle of Peters- 
 burgh were present. 
 
 I was presented to her. She lifted a face of ex 
 quisite, ravishing beauty, and regarded me steadily for a 
 moment. Then her lovely eyes fell, an.d I saw her dash 
 away a tear from her damask cheek. 
 
 "You remind me," I said nonchalantly, "of a 
 superb Grecian statue I once saw in Rome, except that 
 you have beaux yeux, and those of the statue were cold 
 and expressionless." 
 
 I watched the effect of my words. She seemed 
 strangely affected by my glance. Her lips moved as if 
 she were about to speak, and I bent my head to catch 
 her words. With a pretty moue she uttered the simple 
 phrase, " Come off! " 
 
 JANUARY IITH. I have learned the name and 
 story of this adorable woman. She is Mrs. Johnson, of 
 Troy. Years ago, when she was a light-hearted, innocent 
 girl, she married Mr. Johnson, then in his seventieth 
 year, with the express understanding that he should not 
 live longer than three months. As he was wealthy, she 
 consented to make this heroic sacrifice. But the mis 
 creant blighted her young life by remaining on this 
 planet until he was eighty-two. While she was awaiting 
 his obsequies, she sought to divert her mind by plunging 
 into the mad whirl of fashionable life, and for more than 
 ten years she reigned a queen in the. most exclusive 
 and brilliant circles of her native city. 
 
AN UNDIPLOMATIC DIARY. 
 
 JANUARY I2TH. I am not naturally a vain man, 
 but I know my power with women. It is not my fault 
 if the Grand Duchesses insist upon writing me notes, 
 and asking me to meet them on the Avenuesky after the 
 matinee. Such triumphs as these I care but little for; 
 but when Mrs. Johnson told me, 
 as we were dining with the Czar 
 the other night, that I looked per 
 fectly elegant in my uniform, it 
 sent a thrill through my diplomatic 
 heart, and brought the blood to 
 my pale cheeks. 
 
 JANUARY I3TH. Several ladies called to-day, but 
 I sent word that I was out, and remained by my fireside, 
 dreaming of my adorable Mrs. Johnson. 
 
 JANUARY I4TH. There was a review of the entire 
 Russian army in my honor to-day. I did not care to go, 
 and was about to send word to the 
 Czar at the last moment that I 
 was indisposed, when I received a 
 note from Mrs. Johnson, saying 
 that she would be at a window 
 in the Zuboff House, to see me 
 ride past. 
 
 JANUARY 25 i H. She is going back to America ; 
 but she has promised to be mine. She will write me 
 from Troy, she says. How can I live until that letter 
 arrives ? 
 
OTHER TALES. 
 
 JANUARY JOTH. She has gone. I saw her off at 
 the station, and with my usual tact bought for her all 
 the latest magazines and a package of choice caramels, 
 and put them in her lap just before the train started. 
 
 APRIL 1ST. This morning a letter was placed 
 before me on a silver salver. It was from Mrs. Johnson. 
 I opened it with trembling hands, and read : 
 
 "Do not curse me, I implore; but when 
 you receive this I shall be the bride of another. 
 My gentleman friend from Troy (of whom you 
 have heard me speak and whose photograph 
 I enclose) was on the dock to meet me when 
 I returned. He had left his laundry, and come 
 all the way down the river to meet me. His 
 devotion touched me. He has not your ele 
 gant ways, and wears plainer clothes ; but he 
 has a steady business, which counts for something. I 
 have mailed this to reach you on the first of April. 
 Farewell for ever, 
 
 MRS. JOHNSON." 
 
 When I had finished reading this letter I wept. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWE 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 MAR 9- 
 
 JUL25 64-ipM 
 
 
 REC D LD 
 
 V^" 
 
 MAY 1 3 196? 
 
 .51881 
 
 UflE 
 
 I^ Jll 2 -6j