m 
 
 
 

s 
 
A LITTLE GYMNASTIC EXERCISE. Page 164. 
 
PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 BLIFKINS THE MARTYR: 
 
 THE DOMESTIC TRIALS OF A MODEL HUSBAND. 
 
 THE MODERN SYNTAX: 
 DR. SPOONER S EXPERIENCES IN SEARCH OF THE DELECTABLE. 
 
 PARTINGTON PAPERS: 
 
 STRIPPINGS OF THE WARM MILK OF HUMAN KINDNESS. 
 
 NEW AND OLD DIPS 
 
 FROM AN UNAMBITIOUS INKSTAND. 
 HUMOROUS, ECCENTRIC, H XCYTHM 1C A i. 
 
 BY B. P. SHILLABER. 
 
 \\ 
 
 Ti not so deep as a well, nor BO wide as a church-door; 
 but tis enough." > i 
 
 BOSTON 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 LEE, SHEPARD, AND DILLINGHAM. 
 
 1873. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, 
 
 BY B. P. SHILLABER, 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
 Boston : 
 Stereotyped by C. J. Peters &> Son, 5 Washington Street. 
 
TO 
 
 JOHN H, EASTBUKN, ESQ., 
 
 THE PRINTER AND THE PRINTER S FRIEND, 
 
 (EfjtS 3300ft, 
 
 BY ONE OF THE CRAFT, 
 
 IS CORDIALLY DEDICATED. 
 
 rrr f~v>f 
 
 MO ro 
 
PUBLISHERS PREFACE. 
 
 THE great fire which destroyed the business-por 
 tion of Boston spared, for the benefit of the world, 
 a few sheets of Mrs. Partington s new book, and the 
 plates ; upon which the publishers congratulated them 
 selves, and the expectant public took heart. Ar 
 rangements were made to reproduce the work in 
 season for the holidays : but the second fire, at Rand, 
 Avery, & Co. s, swept away both sheets and plates ; 
 and expectations, like those of the wicked, were " cut 
 off." The book at this time makes a fresh appeal, 
 trusting that the interest has not abated, and that the 
 present issue may be spared any more fiery trial than 
 the kind stricture of friends, or the honest opinions 
 of critics. 
 
 While contemplating the republication, during the 
 icy season in December, we received a visit from Mrs. 
 Partington, and enjoyed a refreshing season of wise 
 importation, that like dew in summer, which cheers 
 
6 PREFACE. % 
 
 and invigorates, gave hope and promise to our enter 
 prise. " You rise," we said, laboring with a new 
 idea that just then enlightened us, " like the phoenix 
 from its ashes." She turned as we spoke, and at 
 tempted to brush something from the skirts of her 
 outer garment. " I don t know about the phoenix," 
 she replied ; " but I do wish people that put ashes on 
 their sidewalks would dispense with em more judi 
 cially. I declare, I felt like an ambulance, for the 
 ashes were as thin as human virtue, and I expect I 
 am covered with confusion." We called her atten 
 tion to our proposition to reprint. " Well," she 
 replied, with the unselfishness that distinguishes 
 her, while a gleam from her spectacles shot like 
 sunlight around the room, "I hope it may be suc 
 cessive, and that the people may cry for it as the 
 children used to for Gen. Sherman s Lozenges, and 
 that everybody may buy it for your sake." Could 
 any thing be more disinterested ? In return for this, 
 our wish is, that the dame may be the gainer, and 
 never urge her friends to give it the patronage she 
 wishes for us ; trusting that, between us both, a 
 large safe may be the result. 
 
 JANUARY, 1873. 
 
LUBRICATORY. 
 
 IT is a necessity, with ship-builders, that, before 
 they attempt to put the vessel they have built into 
 the water, they liberally grease the ways, on which 
 it rests in its cradle, in order that it may slide off 
 easily into its " native element," as I have known 
 enthusiastic reporters term the Avater in describing a 
 launch. Well, an author s book is something like 
 the ship. It is a structure that he has builded, as 
 well as he knew how, to sail out on the waves of 
 literature, to meet with a fate similar to that of the 
 bark ; for it may be favored with excellent weather, 
 and sail over gentle seas, or be dashed about, and be 
 wrecked, even, by adverse winds and angr}^ elements. 
 Therefore a preparatory lubrication may not be amiss, 
 through which the fabric may glide down on its mis 
 sion to find its way to favor, or be as speedily for 
 gotten as may be. In presenting his book, the author 
 has three objects in view : To offer a claim for con 
 tinued remembrance by his friends ; to amuse the 
 reader who may be attracted ; to secure a little of 
 that benefit for which the best of people make books. 
 The author makes no very strong pretence to ini^ 
 
 7 
 
8 LUBRICATOKY. 
 
 maculateness in his book, either in style or quality ; he 
 has not, as he conceives, any grand leading moral 
 idea in it ; but he deems that if it succeed in making 
 the reader for a moment forget his worldly cares and 
 pains, and awakens a smile at eccentricities of 
 thought or speech, it will have done as much good 
 as though it made more pretension. No one, per 
 haps, who reads the author s name will purchase the 
 volume with any expectation of finding aught be 
 yond this ; for though doubtless capable of writing 
 books on abstruse subjects, he is content to let the 
 Bacons of the age write them, and reserve to him 
 self the humbler and more popular field of humor. 
 In his pages, Dr. Spooner, the martyr Blifkins, and 
 Mrs. Partington hold place, while there are many 
 things, new and old, that are submitted in the form 
 of stories, in some considerable variety, and sketches 
 and rhythmical efforts that the author commends. 
 He has taken for his motto, as being very fit, the 
 remark of Mr. Mercutio regarding his wound, and 
 satisfied that it is " enough," and will " serve," he 
 leaves his book in the hands of his friends and of 
 his enemies, likewise, if he have any, to bide the 
 result. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 LUBRICATORY 5 
 
 THE BLIFKINS PAPERS: 
 
 I. BLIFKINS S SUMMER RETREAT 12 
 
 II. BLIFKINS THE HOUSEHOLDER 22 
 
 III. BLIFKINS THE MECHANIC ......... 26 
 
 IV. BLIFKINS AND THE CAT 29 
 
 V, BLIFKINS THE SUFFERER 35 
 
 VI. BLIFKINS THE AUTHOR ...40 
 
 VII. BLIFKINS THE COASTER ......... 46 
 
 VIII. BLIFKINS THE MOURNER 49 
 
 IX. BLIFKINS SEES KEAN .......... 56 
 
 X. BLIFKINS S MOONLIGHT TRIP 62 
 
 XI. BLIFKINS S SILVER WEDDING 68 
 
 XII. BUFKINS THE BACCHANAL . . * 74 
 
 XIII. BLIFKINS THE HORTICULTURIST 77 
 
 XIV. BLIFKINS THE LINGUIST 81 
 
 XV. BLIFKINS S DOG SAILOR-BOY 85 
 
 XVI. BLIFKINS TAKES A STAND 92 
 
 XVII. BLIFKINS THE PATRIOT 94 
 
 XVIII. BLIFKINS THE CONSUMER 99 
 
 XIX. BLIFKINS THE RURALIST 101 
 
 XX. BLIFKINS S MIDNIGHT CALL 108 
 
 XXI. BLIFKINS THE EXPERIMENTALIST . . . . . . . 113 
 
 THE MODERN SYNTAX: 
 
 DR. SPOONER IN SEARCH OF THE DELECTABLE 119 
 
 INTRODUCING DR. SPOONER 121 
 
 ORACULAR PEARLS: 
 
 STRIPPINGS. (WHAT MRS. P. SAID) is 1 
 
 9 9 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAOB 
 
 NEW AND OLD DIPS FROM MY INKSTAND: 
 
 LES MlSERABLES 177 
 
 MISSION OF A RARE-DONE STEAK 189 
 
 A NEW RAPE OF THE LOCK .......... 194 
 
 THE VERIFICATION ............ 199 
 
 BUILDING THE BRIDGE ........... 208 
 
 A MODEL MAN S EXPERIENCES. ......... 212 
 
 WORK OF THE OLD MASTERS .......... 219 
 
 GRAPE-SKINS 223 
 
 THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL 225 
 
 MY FRIEND S SECRET 235 
 
 THE WiFE-CuRER ............ 237 
 
 GOUT 247 
 
 THE VENERABLE SLEDGE 250 
 
 A HORSE-CAR INCIDENT ........... 256 
 
 THE OLD RED EAR 260 
 
 EXPERIENCES OF A LAMB MAN ......... 262 
 
 BLESS You ! 266 
 
 SALT-WATER TROUT 268 
 
 THE POOR BLIND MAN 271 
 
 MR. SPOTGAM S TREAT ........... 272 
 
 HOME IN VACATION ............ 278 
 
 DISPOSING OF A CASE ........... 280 
 
 VAIN REGRETS ............. 282 
 
 EXTRACT FROM AN UNWRITTEN ROMANCE ....... 284 
 
 TRUE FAITH 286 
 
 A BIT OF OBITUARY ............ 288 
 
 A COUNTRY RAINY DAY ............ 290 
 
 SIDEWALK OPERA 293 
 
 MY FIRST FUDDLE ............ 296 
 
 SAN GAREE S RIDE 302 
 
 THE VICTIM OF INVITATIONS . 304 
 
 THE GREEN GOOSE 308 
 
 MISSING 311 
 
 MIGRATORY BONES ............ 327 
 
 A NEW YEAR S REVERY 330 
 
 MY FAMILY .............. 346 
 
 DRUMMING 355 
 
 PREACHING TO THE POOR 358 
 
 THE COURTS ............. 359 
 
PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK, 
 
 THE BLIEKINS PAPEES. 
 
 THOMAS MOORE, in a note to one of his satirical songs, 
 wherein he alludes disparagingly to the marriage state, 
 repudiates the sentiment of his Muse, and declares himself 
 the happiest of men in the relation which he affects to de 
 ride. In these papers there may appear a degree of levity 
 where they touch upon the domestic relations of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Blifkins, and some may see an invidious rule, for 
 general application, in the little acerbities depicted, that 
 are, however, merely the momentary obscurations of the 
 sun, rather than the blotting of it out entirely like those 
 shadows that flit above a pleasant landscape in summer, 
 rendering the scene more bright because of the interrup 
 tion. It wouldn t be a blessing to have it fair weather all 
 the time, in a meteorological point of view, and in matri 
 mony, the acid, though antagonistic to the saccharine, if 
 admitted in slight proportion, makes the latter more posi 
 tive, and secures keener enjoyment. Therefore this ele 
 ment in the Blifkins economy renders the life of that esti 
 mable pair happy, plus. The eccentricities and fickleness 
 of Blifkins that will appear in these pages, tend measura 
 bly to keep the acid in active readiness, but they are really 
 
 11 
 
12 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 mere spots upon the sun, which, while we speculate upon 
 them, disappear and leave his affection to shine in un 
 clouded splendor upon his own fireside. The editor of 
 these papers, therefore, as he publishes the idiosyncrasies 
 of his friend, and lays his faults open to criticism, points 
 to his virtues, as the Yankee enthusiast pointed out Bun 
 ker Hill Monument to an English visitor, without saying 
 a foW) leaving ;thelri to speak for themselves. It was the 
 remark of a distinguished jurist that every tuh should stand 
 .011 it* ii\Vii "bottom, and Blifkins must stand or fall by the 
 verdict upon his own merits. Our acquaintance with him 
 began during the war, when we received a letter from him 
 detailing his experience in country quarters, through the 
 reprinting of which we introduce him to our readers. This 
 we entitle 
 
 BLIFKINS S SUMMER RETREAT. 
 
 HARDSCRABBLE VILLAGE, September 1, 1861. 
 I CAME here to enjoy my opium cum digitalis amid 
 Hardscrabble scenery. In front of us a cranberry meadow 
 stretches away into the interminable distance. A fine view 
 is presented, because there is no tree or bush to break off 
 the prospect ; in the rear the awful hills arise in their sub 
 lime grandeur, which, the people here say, can be seen 
 with the naked eye on a clear day, being but seventy-five 
 miles away. Between me and the hills a fine growth of 
 huckleberry meets the desire for swamp scenery, and on 
 nights the song of the buttermonk and bull-frog gratifies 
 the primitive musical taste that delights not in Strauss and 
 Chopin. The stage road runs by the west end of the house, 
 beyond which a precipitous hill shuts out the last rays of 
 the descending sun, that are called " unhealthy " by local 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEES. 13 
 
 science. The stage affords an unending interest, as it 
 passes three times a day to and from the depot, raising a 
 cloud of dust, and awakens lively anxiety for the fate of 
 the children who may be lying round loose, and for the fur- 
 niturefwliich is sure to receive a plentiful supply of the in 
 sidious particles. A preventive is supplied, however, in 
 closing the doors, which keeps the children inside and the 
 dust out. On the east, beyond a potato patch, is more 
 cranberry meadow, and a small pond full of impracticable 
 pond lilies and mud turtles. 
 
 Mrs. Blifkins heard of this place as one delightfully re 
 tired, where board could be had cheap ; and she said to me 
 one day, when I came home from a hard day s work, I had 
 devoted the whole day to collecting a bill of three dollars, 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, the Joneses have gone into the country." 
 
 " Well, my dear," said I, " I cannot conceive how that 
 concerns us in any way." 
 
 " No, I suppose not," said that charming woman, rather 
 sharply ; " it doesn t concern us at all Oh, no ! and it 
 doesn t concern us, nor the children either, I suppose, that 
 this hot weather is making us miserable here, or that the 
 vacation is passing with no recreation for the little dears. 
 It doesn t concern us at all Oh, no ! " 
 
 " But the Joneses are able," I said ; " Mr. Jones has just 
 got a large contract for furnishing clothes-pins for the 
 army, and is in first-rate business besides. A trip to Sara 
 toga or the White Mountains would ruin me." 
 
 She saw, blessed woman, where the shoe pinched, and 
 came at once to my relief and her own triumph. 
 
 " Blifkins," said she, "don t be ridiculous; how many 
 more times do you want me to tell you so ? Who wanted 
 to go to Saratoga ? But you are always jumping at con 
 clusions from the most absurd premises. I have a trip to 
 the country in my mind, where we can rusticate for a fort- 
 
14 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 night, and come back healthy and strong, from pure air 
 and wholesome food. I have just the place in my eye." 
 
 " Is it painful ? " I asked. 
 
 " That s just the way with you," she said. " I never say 
 a thing that you don t make light of it. Oh, go on, and 
 laugh ! my feelings are of no consequence." 
 
 " My dear," said I, penitently, " pardon me. I am now 
 all attention, from the crown of my head to the sole of my 
 feet. Drive on." 
 
 This " drive on " expression is a favorite with me, be* 
 cause I am naturally of a jockeylar turn. 
 
 She then told me that an old friend of the family, Polly 
 Simonds by name, had married a well-to-do farmer in 
 Hardscrabble, and that Polly s sister had that afternoon 
 called to inform her that Mrs. Doolittle the Polly afore 
 said would take a few boarders at one dollar per week, 
 provided that the family were not to be " put out any/ 
 but take such food as they indulged in, and be, in fact, as 
 members of the family. 
 
 "Now I know," said Mrs. Blifkins, tapering off her 
 story with an emphatic period, " that Polly is a good soul, 
 and she knows what good living is, too, and her sister says 
 she is so nicely situated ; and, Blifkins, we can t do better 
 than shut up the house and go and enjoy a week in the 
 country. Poor little Bub looks very spindling, and Me- 
 linda Ann is a mere shadder. It makes my heart ache to 
 look at them." 
 
 " Not another word," said I ; "your logic is forcible, your 
 reasoning unanswerable. But hold*on a bit. Smith s note 
 must be attended to the first of next week, and I have an 
 engagement for Thursday. Now, if you can trust your de 
 voted Blifkins till Friday, a week from to-day, and 
 go on yourself with the children, I will rejoin you at that 
 time." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEES. 15 
 
 She thought it over, apparently meditating all the chances, 
 when she brightened up and said, as Rebekah said to the 
 servant of Abraham, " I ll go." I had a letter from her, tell 
 ing me of her arrival ; but it was very brief. I got ready, 
 and the next Thursday saw me on my way to Hard- 
 scrabble. 
 
 " Do you want to go to Hardscrabble Taown Haouse or 
 to Deulittle s Misery ? " asked the driver of the conveyance 
 labelled "Hardscrabble Stage/ 7 at the depot. It was a 
 cast-off omnibus, of the " Governor Brooks " pattern, that 
 had done duty in the city in former years, and was in the 
 last stage of dilapidation. 
 
 " I don t know," I said, affecting pleasantness. " I want 
 to find a man called Derastus Doolittle, who resides in 
 these parts, and you ll do much for Doolittle, if you will 
 take me to his pleasant mansion." 
 
 I wondered to myself if "Doolittle s .Misery " could be 
 the place of rest that was to recuperate our enervated 
 powers, and felt assured that it was, a moment thereafter, 
 by hearing a fat-looking man, with a surly face, say, 
 
 " Yas, that s it ; the re specting somebody from daowii 
 below. Drop him at Misery. " 
 
 "Well," I thought, "this is a cheerful prospect. Here I 
 have run away from tribulation to find an abiding-place in 
 Misery. How much I have made by the operation remains 
 to be seen." 
 
 After a jolting ride of about five miles, the only passen 
 ger in the old omnibus, the wheels screeching and scream 
 ing as though they were fiends laughing at and deriding 
 me, the vehicle came to a stand still, and I was told that 
 this was the Misery. There was no sign of a house in 
 sight, and, upon asking the driver where Mr. Doolittle 
 lived, he said, 
 
 " Half a dollar, squire," holding out his hand j " take that 
 
16 f PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 ere path thankee that runs down by the harn yen- 
 der, and that ll lead you into the old stage road that goes 
 right by his house. Taint mor n a mile there." 
 
 lie left me at this, standing in the road, with my car 
 pet-bag in my hand. The sun was well nigh down, and 
 the long shadows were stretching away out over the land 
 scape. And this was Misery. I had but one thing to do 
 follow the man s directions, which I did. Arriving at 
 the old stage road, I felt that it was all right, and trudged 
 on like a volunteer. By and by two hogs, quietly reposing 
 beneath a broken hay-cart by the wayside, and a crowd of 
 turkeys roosting on a fence near by and on the trees over 
 head, assured me of my approach to a farmhouse, and step 
 ping towards a very rickety looking gate, I was about 
 entering to inquire for Doolittle, when a dog came at me 
 furiously, which made me beat a hasty retreat. I heard a 
 mustering of somebody inside, and immediately afterwards 
 I heard the dog yelp as if kicked, and a man s voice say., 
 "Git aout!" 
 
 " Can you tell me," said I, timidly drawing nigh a pair 
 of white shirt-sleeves that I saw, amid the gloom, resting 
 upon the gate, " where Derastus Doolittle lives ? " 
 "Come from Boston?" was the question in response. 
 
 "Yes, sir; but it is important that I find Mr. Doolittle ; 
 and if you will direct me " 
 
 " What s the latest news of the war ? Have they caught 
 Jeff Davis yet ? I tell em I don t believe they ever will 
 ketch him. He s a mighty smart critter, and I tell em 
 so." 
 
 a But, my dear sir, will you be so kind as to direct me to 
 Doolittle s, for my coat is thin, and I am getting chilled ? " 
 
 " This tax ll be hard to bear just naow, but I s pose we 
 must pay it, cuss ? em." 
 
 I construed the anathema as applying to the rebels, and 
 
DOOIJTTLE S MISERY. Page 16. 
 
THE BLTFKINS PAPEKS. 17 
 
 tliough I doubted not the man was a patriot tried and true, 
 I wished he would abate enough of it, for the sake of hos 
 pitality, to tell me where Derastus Doolittle lived. 
 
 "Is that you, Mr. Blifkins?" said a voice coming from 
 beyond "the gate on which the arms were leaning; and 
 in a moment the arms dropped from their position, my 
 wife rushed at me with a ferocity almost equal to that of 
 the dog, and I received a volley of kisses that really were 
 refreshing, indicating a return of feeling that I had sup 
 posed long ago dulled by domestic care, convincing me, 
 besides, of the truth of the idea of T. H. Bailey s, that 
 " absence makes the heart grow fonder." 
 
 "Where is Doolittle s ? said I, "and who is the fellow 
 that I ve been talking to ? " 
 
 " That is he," she replied, in a whisper : " hush ! don t 
 say a word ; he is a queer man, but he means well." 
 
 Saying this, she opened the gate and we went in. Polly 
 was at the door, and received me with the air of a sentry- 
 box on parade, and was as rigid as the big churn in the 
 corner, which she much resembled in shape. She wore no 
 hoops, however, and the churn did. She was about forty, 
 and her face was as sharp and blue as faces look that have 
 been running against a severe wind in winter. Her eyes 
 were small and cunning gray, her lips firm and determined, 
 and her hair twisted up on an old-fashioned high-backed 
 comb, which made her look like an antique picture of 
 Queen Elizabeth, lacking the ruff, though the rough was 
 evidently there in other guise. 
 
 Mrs. Blifkins introduced me, and she deigned me a 
 hand; but it was as cold as a toad, and as expressionless 
 in its feeling as a hand of tobacco. There was no light in 
 the room we entered, except a badly-burning tallow can 
 dle, in a tin candlestick, which was eclipsed by Mr. Doo 
 little in an effort to light a clay pipe by it. My wife intro- 
 
18 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 duced me to Mr. Doolittle, who made no reply, but 
 out a cloud of extra smoke, and, a^he deposited the candle 
 on the table, reached out a hand slippery with tallow, for 
 me to shake. After several whiffs, he asked, 
 
 " Bring up any papers ? " 
 
 Handing him an " Extra," that I bought in the cars, he 
 retired to a corner, where he monopolized the light, and 
 became with it obscured by the paper held before him. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Doolittle," said I, " the long ride and the 
 long walk have provoked my appetite ; and if you will have 
 the kindness to give me a bite of something, I will bestow 
 on you my warmest blessing." 
 
 "There wan t nothing left over," said she, with a slight 
 touch, I thought, of mustard in her tone j "But if you d 
 like some milk, you can hev it." 
 
 tl Certainly," said I ; " any thing. Your good, sweet coun 
 try bread and new milk are fit for a prince. Let s have 
 the milk, by all means." 
 
 She went to fetch the milk, and I asked my wife about 
 the children. All well. Then I asked how she was, and 
 she said she was very well, excepting a little headache. 
 "The result, my dear," said I, "of excessive indulgence in 
 country luxuries, I fear. Prudence should attend you here 
 as well as at home. I shall have to look after you." 
 
 The re-appearance of Polly silenced the conversation. 
 She placed on the pine table that stood in the middle of 
 the floor a small pewter plate, not very bright, with a 
 small bannock of bread, and a bowl containing about a 
 pint of milk. 
 
 "It s sweet milk, though it s skimmed," said she; "we 
 let the new milk stand for cream." 
 
 " Excellent economist !" said I, drawing up to the table 
 with a feeling far from happy, for I thought I detected a 
 leak in the commissariat j and a lean larder in a country 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 19 
 
 of plenty is an evil not to be endured. Some one has 
 said that we should always rise from the table yet hungry, 
 and be sure in this way to save ourselves from the sin of 
 gluttony. I certainly was more hungry when I arose than 
 when Fsat down. 
 
 It was now about nine o clock ; and, as I sat at the 
 window admiring the moon as it came up behind a skele 
 ton pine in the distance, Mr. Doolittle arose, folded his 
 paper, and passed out of the room, leaving the candle on 
 the table. 
 
 "We all go to bed at nine o clock," said Mrs. Doolittle, 
 gathering herself up ; " it s the rules of aour haouse." 
 
 She stood a moment to see if her shot had taken effect 
 on me. I felt strongly opposed to moving; but Mrs. Blif- 
 kins arose with wonderful humility, I thought, and bore 
 me from the room. A door slammed, and then another? 
 a few smothered words came from a chamber adjoining 
 that we were to occupy, and the house was still. Not so 
 around the house. A flock of geese held a noisy council 
 beneath our window, and a horse in an invisible barn had 
 the St. Yitus dance ; a pig was indulging in a swinish 
 soliloquy ; a calf, ambitious of being veal, was mournfully 
 eloquent ; and the dog, which had rushed at me, amused 
 himself with a prescription of bark every half hour. There 
 was no sleep for my eyes or slumber for my eyelids all that 
 night. 
 
 By daylight, startled from a cat-nap that had seized me 
 in despite of untoward circumstances, 1 looked from the 
 window, and saw Doolittle hauling a load of muck from 
 the meadow. A more uncouth figure I never saw. Of 
 course I didn t expect to see a man dressed in his best 
 while hauling muck, and as certainly I had never expected 
 to see a man look so badly. His properties would be in 
 valuable to an actor whose role, was the desperate loafer. 
 
20 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 No one part seemed to belong to the other part. At first 
 I thought it some ponderous scarecrow that had walked 
 away from the field in a fit of eccentricity, and was dis 
 posed to try its terrifying properties in other quarters. 
 But Doolittle s voice, in pleasant rebuke of the cattle, that 
 seemed a little contrary at being called so early, satisfied 
 me of his identity. 
 
 " Stan still, cuss ye ! " said the voice ; and there was no 
 doubting Doolittle. 
 
 I went down stairs, and joined him. He greeted me 
 with a surly "good morning," and immediately began 
 about the war, taking up the contents of the " Extra " I 
 had given him, which he had apparently learned by heart. 
 I took advantage of the first pause, and ran faster than 
 the congressmen from Bull Bun. I took all the bearings 
 of the landscape, and found it as I have described at the 
 outset of this letter. At about six o clock, the blast of a 
 tin horn signified to me that breakfast was ready j and I 
 was prepared by my early exercise to do justice to it. I 
 was picturing to raj-self aldermanic biscuits, ham and eggs, 
 sweet butter, creamy cheese, fried trout, new potatoes, a, 
 bit of fowl, served up on a snowy table. The misgiving 
 of the night previous, however, crossed my mind, I must 
 confess. What business had it there at such a time ? I 
 entered the house to prepare for breakfast, but found all at 
 table, wife, children, all, including Mr. Doolittle in 
 his muck rig! I looked at Mrs. B. She colored some, 
 but said nothing. 
 
 "Come, fall to," said Mr. Doolittle. "Folks in the 
 country don t stand on no ceremony. Good appetites don t 
 want no long graces. Eat and be filled is our motter." 
 
 I looked along the board for that which was to fill us. 
 A plate of hard-baked corn bread stood near the centre of 
 the table, flanked on one side by a dish of fried pork 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 21 
 
 swimming in fat, on the other by a dish of potatoes ; and 
 this was all. 
 
 " Lord, what a wretched land is this, that yields us no 
 supply ! " came into my mind, but I didn t say it. 
 
 " Will" you have some dip ? " said Mrs. Doolittle. 
 
 I was a little perplexed to know what she meant; but 
 as she tipped the dish with one hand, and held a spoon 
 with the other, as if to bale out some of the fat, I guessed 
 what it was, and declined, asking at the same* time for a 
 little butter. I found I had got my foot in a hornet s nest. 
 
 The Doolittles looked at each other, and then Mrs. Doo 
 little spoke for both, saying, that butter was a cash article 
 that they couldn t afford to indulge in themselves, and 
 their boarders were to be as " one of the family." For her 
 part, she thought pork was a great deal more " healthy " 
 than butter, and was sorry I didn t like their fare. I could 
 have done better, she dared say, at the hotel, where they 
 charged more. 
 
 I felt humbled, and confess that I came down to " dip," 
 as the Israelites came down to the pool of Siloam. I said 
 no more, but thought it would be made up at dinner. I 
 spent the morning with my children, and it seemed as long 
 as three days in one. Dinner time came, and I looked for 
 the summons very eagerly. Judge of my horror to find 
 boiled pork for dinner, with the addition of potatoes and 
 the cold bread ! At supper we had some preserved barber 
 ries, black tea, with brown sugar, and underdone saleratus 
 bread. 
 
 The next day was Sunday ; and now, thought I, there 
 must be a change in the bill of fare : then I can make up 
 for the losses of yesterday. The breakfast was delayed till 
 near eight o clock, and, when summoned to it, the inevita 
 ble " dip " was there, and the corn bread ! I felt that I 
 was a doomed man, and imagined myself an Edson, a 
 
22 PABTINGTO3STIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 living skeleton, going round the country, showing myself 
 at so much per sight. But I still hoped for dinner. There 
 were fowls in the yard, whose magnificent proportions I 
 had marked, and indulged in anticipatory images of pot- 
 pies; and, as I came from the church with Doolittle, I 
 fancied which of them had "become a sacrifice to my epi 
 curean taste, rather lamenting his fate. Needless thought. 
 T was told hy Mrs. Doolittle that she always cooked enough 
 on Saturday for Sunday s dinner ; therefore she had boiled 
 double rations of pork, which we were to eat cold. At 
 supper we had the half-baked bread and the sour barber 
 ries, and the black tea, sweetened with bown sugar, re 
 peated. 
 
 I told Mrs. Blifkins this morning, in a domestic council in 
 chambers, that she and the children may enjoy this felicity 
 to their hearts content, live on pork till, like Jeshurun, 
 they wax fat and kick, or squeal like pigs, but that I 
 am no individual to surrender myself in this way, and as 
 soon as the " dip " is disposed of this morning, I shall start 
 on an excursion to Hominy Ridge, about three miles from 
 this, where there is a hotel, and shall not come back to 
 dinner. 
 
 I leave this letter with her to send to you by the stage, 
 as I haven t got strength to carry it to the post-office. 
 
 II. 
 
 t 
 
 BLIFKINS THE HOUSEHOLDER. 
 
 THE situation of Blifkins s house is a very singular one, 
 as, by some combination of circumstances, the snow al 
 ways drifts in front of his door. His next-door neighbors, 
 on both sides of him, are not troubled in this way ; but 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 23 
 
 when the snow before his house is piled as high as his chin, 
 before theirs it is as bare as one s hand. Let the wind 
 blow east, west, north, or south, it is the same. The com 
 pass is not made that has a point to favor him, so he says. 
 It may be -imagined, in this state of things, that he has 
 considerable to do to keep shovelled off in a snow-storm, 
 so that those gentlemen in blue coats and bright buttons 
 shall have no hold upon him ; and the sums that he has 
 paid in dimes for the performance of this work has 
 amounted, in the course of a winter, to a snug little 
 fortune, let us tell you. 
 
 It was the morning after a great snow-storm that Blifkins 
 called upon us. He looked, we saw at a glance, agitated 
 and unhappy. Seating himself in our only spare chair, 
 and holding his feet before our blazing fire as unconcern 
 edly as though the words, "Busy Day Short Calls," 
 were not hung outside the door, he said, 
 
 " Tough storm wasn t it ?" 
 
 We expressed to him in brief that we thought it was, 
 and uttered the remark, with considerable confidence, that 
 we should have more snow before the winter was out. He 
 looked at us very seriously a moment, and then asked, 
 
 " Do you have to shovel off in front ? " 
 
 " Of course/ we told him, " whenever we have occasion 
 for it." 
 
 u Yes," said he, sardonically, " that s what you all say, 
 whenever there s occasion for it/* which implies that there 
 may be storms when there are no occasions for it. With 
 me, now, if so little snow falls that an old woman could 
 carry it off in her apron, there comes a drift before my 
 door as high as my head. Queer isn t it ? " 
 
 We made further inquiries, and learned the facts. 
 
 " I bought the house in August," said he, " and not a 
 word was said about snow-drifts j but the winter assured 
 
24 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 me of the reason why the one I bought of was so anxious 
 to sell. The drifts arose to my window-sills. I tried to 
 get my taxes abated last year on account of it, but couldn t. 
 I ve tried to sell out, but nobody ll buy. Every snow-storm 
 four policemen stand looking round the corners near my 
 house, to pounce upon me in case I should fail to shovel 
 off. It ll cost me a fortune to hire it done." 
 
 " Why don t you do it yourself ? " we asked. 
 
 " That s just what my wife said," replied he. " I got up 
 yesterday morning, and, just as I expected, there was the 
 drift as high as my head. Mr. Blif kins, said my wife, 
 why don t you go out, now, and shovel it off yourself? 
 Said I, in reply, Your counsel is excellent, and I think I 
 will. I at once proceeded to prepare myself for the task ; 
 but before I could get ready, there were five applications 
 for the job, and five refusals. I pulled on a pair of long 
 boots, tied a comforter round my ears, and went out. 
 i You re going to pitch into it, I see, said a voice, as I be 
 gan. Twas one of the policemen, and he looked, I thought, 
 rather disappointed. You don t catch me this time, said 
 I. I commenced vigorously, throwing the snow aside with 
 * heart of controversy. But I began too fast. The fifth 
 shovelful assured me that I had reckoned without my host ; 
 and I was almost tempted to abandon my undertaking by 
 the offer of a deluding Hibernian gentleman, who insinu 
 ated that he might shovel it off for a quartier of a dolliar. 
 But an incidental remark seemed to reflect on my ability to 
 perform the task, and I bade him depart. Are you almost 
 done ? said my wife from the upper window. How un 
 reasonable these women are ! I pitched in, not deigning a 
 reply. I grew very hot, realizing the philosophical fact of 
 there being heat in snow ; strange I never noticed it be 
 fore ! Don t shovel the snow against the house ! said 
 my wife from the upper window. At that instant an ava- 
 
BLIFKINS AND THE POLICEMAN. - Page 24. 
 
THE BLIEKINS PAPEES. 25 
 
 lanche came from the roof, burying me in the snowy 
 grave I had just been digging. e Did it hurt you much ? 
 asked my wife from her upper point of observation. I 
 replied to her, as soon as I could free myself, that it did 
 not, ant! playfully essayed to throw a shovelful of snow at 
 her. It fell short of its mark ; but the shovel found its 
 way through three squares* of my parlor window. Save 
 the pieces ! said my wife in an ironical tone. I looked 
 at my damaged property with bitterness of spirit. It oc 
 curred to me that my neighbor s snow-shovel was better 
 than mine, and I went to borrow it. When I returned, I 
 found that some one had stolen my own shovel in my ab 
 sence. In a rage I smote the pave with the borrowed 
 one, and broke it short off in the handle, with a remark 
 that sounded something like profanity. At this I with 
 drew from the field, determined to employ the first one 
 who came along who wished to shovel me out. I waited 
 all the forenoon, but no one came. It was wonderful how 
 the} - managed to keep away. In the afternoon I received 
 a summons to appear before the police court by the hands 
 of one of my watchful policemen, and have just returned 
 from that august tribunal, where I have paid three dollars, 
 without costs. So, reckoning my labor, the lost time, the 
 stolen shovel, the broken one. the smashed window, the 
 three dollars, and the aggravation, I think it don t pay." 
 
 He ceased, and looked to us for sympathy. He miscon 
 strued our smile of pity for one of derision, and went off 
 as mad as a percussion cap. 
 
26 PABTINGTONIAN PATCH WOKK. 
 
 m. 
 
 BLIFKINS THE MECHANIC. 
 
 "MR. BLIFKINS," said my wife, on the morning of 
 washing day,*" Bridget complains that something is the 
 matter with the soft-water pump." 
 
 " Well, my dear," I replied, I am very careful to put 
 in all the little tender terms on washing days, having found 
 them serve admirably as mollifiers at such, times, "I 
 will see about it." 
 
 I had not quite finished reading my morning paper, and 
 sat a moment to conclude the account of the last fearful 
 casualty, when Bridget s face was thrust into the door, as 
 red and bright as an old-fashioned brass warming-pan. 
 
 " Indade, mem," said she, " the pump s gone again." 
 
 " I wish you was," arose to my lips, but 1 didn t speak it. 
 
 " Well," replied my .wife, " I ve done all I could about 
 it, unless / am expected to draw the box and fix it. I ex 
 pect every day when I shall have to do such work. A 
 woman s life is hard enough at the best, but a little addi 
 tional service would not hurt her, I dare say. Perhaps, in 
 the intervals of household duties, she might take in jobs 
 of pump-mending." 
 
 I said nothing. 
 
 "Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, "will you see to the 
 pump ? " 
 
 This was said in a tone that completely overcame the 
 horror awakened by the casualty, and throwing the paper 
 aside, I proceeded to the kitchen. I tried the handle of 
 the pump, and, sure enough, the water refused to flow. A 
 few drops only oozed from the nose, and, as I plied the 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 27 
 
 handle, the pump gave forth a rumbling sound, as though 
 it were surly in its refusal to yield the accustomed supply. 
 
 " This is a pretty state of things for washing day ! " said 
 my wife. 
 
 " Weljj.my dear," said I, "I don t see how you can blame 
 me for it. Thou canst not say I did it. " 
 
 I immediately essayed to take out the box. The screws 
 that secured the top were rusty, and refused to turn. 
 
 " Mrs. Blifkins," said I, " where is the hammer ? " 
 
 " How should I know where the hammer is ? " she re 
 plied. " It is probably where you used it last. You leave 
 every thing for me to take care of. My father used to say, 
 A place for every thing and every thing in its place/ I 
 wish all men were as particular. 7 
 
 I remembered that I had used the hammer to repair a 
 chicken-coop some weeks before, and, proceeding to the 
 spot, I found it, rusty and dirty, lying just where I had 
 left it. A system like this, closely followed, would prove 
 of immense advantage ; for a memory of where an article 
 was used would immediately suggest the spot where it 
 was to be found. Returning to the kitchen, I commenced 
 work. The rusty threads of the screws refused persistent 
 ly to yield ; but patience wins ; and after a half hour s 
 sweating and fretting, I had the top removed, and the 
 pump-box in my hand. There were evident signs of decay 
 in the leather ; and bringing my natural ingenuity to bear 
 upon it, I hammered, and tacked, and cut, and pulled, until 
 I fancied that I had attained perfection in my effort. 
 
 " Mrs. Blifkins," says I, in my momentary satisfaction, 
 " can you tell me the difference betwixt a man who mends 
 pumps and a prune ? " 
 
 Of course she couldn t ; and I told her that one was a 
 plum and fehe other was a plumber ; whereat she was pleased 
 to smiie, though, I thought, rather derisively. 
 
28 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Now we shall see," says I, putting in the box, " the 
 triumph of genius. Pour in some water, Bridget, and as 
 I pump, you shall see the water flow." 
 
 I manned the brakes ; but in vain my effort. No effect 
 was produced but the most painful sound a sort of 
 asthmatic wheezing, like that of a porcine quadruped just 
 expiring under the effect of a surgical operation upon his 
 neck. My triumph changed, and my chipper notes par 
 took of a more tempestuous character, as I muttered an 
 expression that nothing but the immediate circumstances 
 could justify. 
 
 " That s right," said my wife ; " I would talk in that way. 
 It will help the matter, I dare say, very much. Men have 
 got no patience. If they had to bear as much as women 
 do, I don t know what would become of them." 
 
 "I will bring mechanics," said I, a little subdued, " and 
 they shall bring the pump." 
 
 I immediately sought Lurnb. 
 
 " Send workmen," said I, "0 man of lead pipe and solder, 
 and mend that without which washing day becomes a Sab 
 bath without a sermon for what were washing day with 
 out water ? " 
 
 Two men accompanied me to my home philanthro 
 pists, with disposition and ability to relieve the difficulty 
 under which I labored. 
 
 " Now, my boys," said I, as I introduced them to the 
 field of their operations, " put her through." 
 
 The term " her " struck Mrs. Blif kins as irrelevant, and 
 somewhat personal, as I judged from her looks. No ba 
 rometer could be more exact than was her countenance to 
 my experienced vision. 
 
 " Look here, sir," said one of the men, trying the han 
 dle ; " there, ain t nothing the matter with the pump." 
 
 " Then what is the bother with the infernal thing ? " I 
 asked, excitedly. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 29 
 
 " The principal reason is, I think, sir, that the cistern has 
 gin out." 
 
 I looked at the man wonderingly ; but his honest eye 
 convinced me that he was sincere, and after examination 
 proved-the truth of what he said. * 
 
 " My friend," said I, " here is a trifle for you, and I will 
 settle with Lumb. Don t say any thing about it. 7 
 
 I never knew how the matter came out, but always 
 thought Mrs. Blifkins must have told of it. 
 
 IV. 
 
 BLIFKINS AND THE CAT. 
 
 * 
 
 " CAKE killed a cat," the old adage runs ; and Blifkins 
 held care responsible for a feline corpus found in his front 
 yard one morning. His experience in the premises being 
 very trying, we essay its impartation as he told it to us, as 
 nearly in his own words as possible. Reader, imagine Blif 
 kins seated before you, telling the following : 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! " cried -my wife from the kitchen on 
 Sunda} - morning, the morning of all the week on which I 
 like least to be disturbed. I rose on my elbow, before 
 answering, and looked at my watch. It was only seven 
 o clock. , 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! " the voice said again. It was wonder 
 ful how sleepy I was, and so I made no reply. What can 
 call her up so early ? I asked myself. It can t be break 
 fast yet, for that s an eight o clock matter. I nestled down 
 in the pillows once more, and stretched myself diagonally 
 across the bed, drawing my thousand nerves and sinews 
 more or less out to their proper tension. What a 
 luxury this is, to be sure I 
 
 3* 
 
30 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! " said the voice, louder than before ; and 
 immediately after a severe pinch on my bare arm assured 
 me that my wife had come up stairs. I started up in af 
 fected surprise, and rubbing my eyes open, asked her if 
 that was a proper expression of the regard she felt for the 
 one she had vowed to love, cherish, and nourish, and all 
 that. She replied by calling me a fool, in her most win 
 ning way, and told me that there was a dead cat in our 
 front yard. 
 
 " A dead cat ! " cried I, tragically, jumping out of bed 
 in a style quite melodramatic, though not very well cos 
 tumed. 
 
 " Yes," said my wife ; "it is right under the window, and 
 isas big as a cow." 
 
 I looked at her face, where womanly truth was wont to 
 shine, and repeated her remark, 
 
 " As big as a cow ! " 
 
 " I mean/ 7 said she, " that it is a very large one" com 
 paratively. 7 
 
 " Oh !" said I, completing my toilet by thrusting my right 
 foot into my only slipper, and proceeded down stairs. 
 There, sure enough, was one of the most monstrous cats I 
 had ever seen. It was old and very gray, and there was 
 a rigidness in its form that seemed to say, " I ve come 
 to stay with you ; " speaking in dumb show as plainly as 
 the big trunk and many bandboxes that the stage drops 
 at our door on anniversary week. I looked at it horror- 
 struck. 
 
 " Throw it into the street," said my wife, with that 
 promptness which eminently fits her to be the captain of 
 a company. 
 
 " Can t do it, my love," said I; " for I should render my 
 self liable by so doing ; if not to the law, at least to my 
 own conscience ; for why should I offend the sight of my 
 neighbors by the unseemly thing ? " 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 31 
 
 " Bury it in the yard," said my wife. 
 
 Now, considering that she has got every inch of our ter 
 ritory so closely planted with flowers that one can, in the 
 season of them, measure odor and bloom by the cubic inch, 
 that was" impossible. I told her so. 
 
 "I do wish, Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, "that you had 
 a little more energy ; you are not nearly so smart as you 
 were twenty years ago." 
 
 "True, my love, 7 replied I; "and in this respect there 
 is a great difference between you and I, for I think your 
 smartness has increased." I meant it for irony, but she 
 took it as a compliment, and smiled upon me with that 
 heavenly expression which resembles somewhat a slumber 
 ing hurricane. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, " throw it on the vacant 
 lot round the corner." 
 
 " What ! " replied I, " and poison the air of my neigh 
 bors ? Never." 
 
 " What s the row ? " said my friend Wagg, going by. 
 
 I told him in a few words my difficulty, to which my 
 wife added a few soothing remarks of her own about 
 " stupid husbands " and " never knowing how to do any 
 thing." 
 
 " I ll tell you how to get rid of it," he said ; " draw it 
 away." 
 
 " Draw it ? " I queried. 
 
 " Yes," said he, poking me under the ribs ; " draw it 
 away with a cataplasm." 
 
 He passed along laughing. My wife likewise indulged 
 in a little cachinnation at my expense, which quite over 
 turned my little remaining resolution. 
 
 " This morning air is too much for you, my dear," said 
 I ; " you had better retire to the house, and if you wish 
 to take further part in the inquest, I ll bring the carrion in." 
 
32 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 She saw that I was moved, and went. 
 
 There are, I know by actual count, a thousand boys in 
 our neighborhood. My peace by day and night is dis 
 turbed by them. Their whistling and howling awake me 
 the first thing in the morning, and I am kept awake by 
 them till late in the night. 
 
 " Eureka! " said I, slapping my knee ; " I ll have a boy." 
 
 I don t know what my wife, who was surveying the 
 scene from ail upper window, thought of the remark ; but 
 she drew in her head suddenly, like a clam. 
 
 I looked up and down the street for a boy, and round 
 the corners, and over into yards, and into all sorts of 
 places ; but they had strangely disappeared, all but a little 
 boy who was studying his lesson for Sunday school, whose 
 meditations I would not disturb. How welcome would 
 have sounded the familiar yell, usually so annoying ! Thus 
 I stood walking sentry over the remains for one hour, look 
 ing out as anxiously for a boy as a shipwrecked sailor for 
 rescue. At last relief came. A boy appeared upon the 
 scene, dragging along the limb of a tree, and making a 
 wonderful dust. I beckoned to him. He stood still, with 
 evident distrust, as I had threatened him many times with 
 vengeful visitings for juvenile" misdemeanors. 
 
 " My little man," said I, " do you wish to earn some 
 pennies for the Fourth ? " at the same time shaking some 
 coppers at him, as they shake corn in a sieve in order to 
 catch a horse. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said he, with great alacrity. 
 
 " Don t give him more than two cents," said my wife 
 from the window. 
 
 I put twelve into his hand, six more than I had in 
 tended, and told him to take that offensive object down to 
 the river and throw it in. ^ He started to do so with a grin 
 that looked as if he had thrown it in the yard himself ; and I 
 
THE BLIFKTNS PAPERS. 33 
 
 half suspected he did, for before he had gone a dozen yards 
 from my house he was joined by ten others, who laughed 
 so loudly that I heard them where I stood. But I was 
 happy in being rid of my torment. 
 
 Going^itto the house, the thought of the adventure as 
 sailed me, and thinking how similar the scene was to that 
 wherein Burns turned up the mouse-nest with his plough, 
 I sat do^ru and wrote this. 
 
 Blifkins took a paper from his pocket, and adjusting his 
 spectacles, read as follows : 
 
 TO A CAT, 
 
 On finding one turned up in a corner of my front yard very dead, 
 Thou Howling, yowling, growling pussy, 
 Thou night and day disturbing hussy, 
 JNo more thou lt wake the feeling fussy 
 
 With thy fierce clamor, 
 Driving the quietest to curse thee, 
 
 Like tongs and hammer. 
 
 Full many a night thou st kept me waking, 
 My nerves like aspen leaflets shaking, 
 Till, some convenient missile taking, 
 
 A jug or boot, 
 IVe dashed it in among ye, raking, 
 
 And made ye scoot. 
 
 Thy voice I knew, when fiercely bawling, 
 ? Bove all thy brothers notes appalling, 
 There, 7 mid my flowers, pulling and hauling, 
 
 And mischief making ; 
 But thou hast stopped thy caterwauling, 
 
 And no mistaking. 
 
34 PARTINGTONTAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 And yet I m sad to see thee lying, 
 
 Though long iny patience thou st been trying ; 
 
 I look upon thee, no denying, 
 
 With feeling sickening, 
 And wonder how thou felt st when dying 
 
 Of sudden strychnine. 
 
 Didst thou look back with thought regretful 
 At making people vexed and fretful, 
 Or that thy horn of joy, not yet full, 
 
 Should be capsizen ? * 
 Or grieve that thou wert such a great fool 
 
 As eat the pizen ? 
 
 Alas ! like many a fool that s human, 
 
 Seen every day, or man or woman, 
 
 Who grasp at pleasures fair and bloomin , 
 
 Thou st reckless bitten, 
 And found too soon that sin s consumin 
 
 To man and kitten. 
 
 He ceased reading, and after a moment s pause, asked us 
 what we thought of it. We candidly told him that it was 
 barely respectable, and by no means to be compared to 
 Burns s Mouse " on turning one up." He smiled faintly, 
 saying, " That s just what my wife said," and went out. 
 
 * " Oapsizen hisn porritch dishe." Canterbury Tales. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 35 
 
 V. 
 
 BLIFKINS THE SUFFERER. 
 
 ONE warm morning we met Blifkins with a patch over 
 one of his eyes, and supposed it might be another attack 
 of the amaurosis with which he had been troubled. He 
 looked anxious and care-worn, and in response to our morn 
 ing salutation merely nodded as he attempted to go by. 
 
 "What!" said we, "going by without one word or one 
 shake of the hand?" 
 
 He stopped, and extended his dexter digits with a feint 
 at cheerfulness, but failing very signally. "What s the 
 matter with your eye? " we inquired, in a tone very sym 
 pathetic ; " fell down, eh, and trod on it ? " 
 
 He lifted up the patch without saying a word, and 
 pointed to his eye that looked not exactly looked, 
 either, because it was nearly closed, and had a wide, dark 
 circle around it, as though from a severe blow very 
 badly. 
 
 " What did it ? " we said, much shocked. 
 
 He opened his mouth, and slowly said, " Mosquitoes ! " 
 
 " For Heaven s sake ! what ! " we said, greatly shocked; 
 " mosquitoes did that ? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " We adjure you, then, Blifkins ! in the name of friend 
 ship, to tell us how," we cried in great agitation ; and drag 
 ging the unfortunate fellow into a place where sedatives 
 could be procured if needed, we bade him tell his story. 
 
 " My wife," said he, lifting the patch and wiping his eye 
 with the corner of his silk handkerchief, " is very much 
 afraid of mosquitoes. They are the pest of her life 5 lier 
 
36 PAETINGTONIAN PATCITA r ORK. 
 
 worriment by night and by day. There cannot be a mos 
 quito anywhere in the neighborhood that does not find 
 her, and they manifest their partiality by biting her, deem 
 ing her good to eat. They bite her face and hands, and 
 neck and ankles, arid noc to be iarulior explicit are 
 generally fond of her as the New Zealanders are of mis 
 sionaries. During the warm evenings they pursue her 
 unrelentingly. She shuts herself in darkness, that they 
 may not see her, like the foolish partridge, that puts its 
 head beneath a leaf, fancying that it is hidden. Compara 
 tively like, you understand, for Mrs. Blifkins would do 110 
 such ridiculous thing as that. Mosquito bars are no hin- 
 derance, for if the bars are put up at the windows, the per 
 sistent things will come in through the open doors ; and 
 she declares, on her honor as a veracious woman, that 
 she has known them to push up a window in order to get 
 where she was. At any rate, she could not account for 
 the window s being up on any other hypothesis. They 
 do not allow her to sleep, and though I dose her freely 
 with anodynes, and she thus slumbers, she has dreams of 
 mosquitoes that render sleep unrefreshing. 
 
 " Last night we had retired, as usual, and I was fast going 
 towards dreamland had, indeed, become unconscious of 
 surroundings in a dim twilight of sense, when her voice 
 aroused me. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins/ said my wife, i there he is ! 
 
 "I started up, and reached to the corner where for 
 twenty years the big cane has stood with which I am 
 sometime going to make myself wretched by braining a 
 burglar, should one be so unfortunate as to enter my sanc 
 tuary. 
 
 " Where is he? said I, seizing the cane, and jumping 
 out of bed ; where is the marauding villain ? 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, said my wife, as she has a good many 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 37 
 
 times, * don t make a fool of yourself. I don t mean a 
 burglar tis a mosquito. He has bit me on my hand. 
 Cairt you hear him ? 
 
 " I listened. The big ear of Dionysius could not have 
 done mere in the listening line than I did for fully five 
 minutes, and then answered, No. 
 
 " i Do you hear him ? said I, carrying the war into Afri 
 ca. There was no answer to my question, and her deep 
 breathing assured me that she was asleep. I didn t be 
 lieve there was a mosquito within a quarter of a mile of 
 the house, and went to bed again breathing orisons more 
 profound than pious. 
 
 " I had got once more in a comfortable state ; was, indeed, 
 dreaming that a Houri, in a short striped dress, was pre 
 senting me with a bushel basket full of peaches, each of 
 which would weigh a pound, when I felt a sharp nudge 
 in the side, that I deemed, in my obliviousness, to be a stab 
 given by some dark assassin who was my rival. I was 
 just going to perform some act of valor that might have 
 eclipsed the braining of the burglar, when 
 
 " ( Mr. Blifkins ! said my wife. 
 
 " ( Foul caitiff ! I cried, l down, down to 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! repeated my wife, with another nudge 
 sharper than the first, and I was awake. 
 
 " What is the matter ? said I ; are you sick ? There 
 had been a bad case of the cholera in the neighborhood that 
 day, and I feared its epidemic character, as I had seen 
 some watermelon rinds in the sink the evening before. 
 
 " No, she replied j but hear them mosquitoes. 
 
 " I raised myself on my elbow and listened, but could not 
 catch a sound. It was near midnight, and every thing was 
 still as death. 
 
 " ( I -don t hear them, I said, vexed at being disturbed, 
 and was about lying down again. 
 4 
 
38 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " i There ! _ cried she ; there they are, plain enough/ 
 " I listened again, and heard a faint, murmuring sound, 
 that at first I could not define. At last it came more dis 
 tinctly. 
 
 " That, said I, is the Brigade Band, serenading the 
 newly-married couple over in Confederation Square. 
 
 " I was malicious in my triumph, I know. She said noth 
 ing in reply ; and after looking out of the window and hear 
 ing the distant music, as I could do distinctly through the 
 open window, and, seeing a light still burning in a house 
 far off, won dering whether somebody wasn t sick there, 
 or was only being troubled with mosquitoes, I went to bed 
 again. 
 
 " How sweetly sleep comes to one after being thus dis 
 turbed ! I realized it, to its full extent, and almost ere my 
 head touched the pillow the most delicious stupor seized 
 me, in which I seemed to be borne away somewhere on 
 invisible wings, breathing airs blown over multitudes of 
 opening roses and everlasting beds of clover. I had just 
 bidden farewell to earth, resolved on making a settlement 
 in the beautiful region where I found myself and becoming 
 a squatter sovereign on celestial- territory, and had begun 
 a speech appropriate to the occasion to a crowd of angelic 
 beings who stood around, when a voice, that I knew to be 
 my wife s, said, 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! Mr. Blifkins ! there they are again. 
 " i Let them stay there, then, said I, and we ll stay 
 here. 
 
 " The perfume of the roses, and the clover, and the heav 
 enly scenery vanished under the influence of my wife sr 
 elbow, and I immediately knew I was anywhere but in 
 heaven. 
 
 " What is it ? said I, as pettishly as a child cutting its 
 teeth ; and mine always have been cutting their teeth, if 
 pettishness is any sign. 
 
BLIFKINS PAPERS. 39 
 
 " Hear the plaguy mosquitoes/ replied my wife, thresh 
 ing the air as if she were frantic. 
 
 " I listened again, this time to detect that the sound was 
 the complaint of a dog in a neighbor s shed, whose bark 
 was deadened by the intervention of partition walls. Says 
 I, rising up, getting out of bed, and lighting a lamp, 
 
 " Mrs. Blif kins, I can stand this no longer, and will not. 
 I must sleep ; and here I declare to you in the solemnity 
 of this deep midnight, that though mosquitoes come as 
 single spies or in battalions, come in the sonorous tones of 
 a brass band or as the howling of a cur, come in their own 
 natural voice or with no voice at all, " I ll to my couch 
 again, and try to sleep it into morn." 
 
 " I threw myself on the bed, murmuring, Come, 
 
 Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care, 
 The death of each day s life, sore labor s bath, 
 Balm of hurt minds, great nature s second course, 
 Chief nourisher in life s feast. 
 
 Perhaps I mixed the quotation up a little, for before I got 
 well to the end of it I was fast asleep. 
 
 " How long I remained thus I don t know ; but I was 
 awakened by a violent blow in the eye, that made me see 
 lights enough to supply a whole Fourth of July night with 
 coruscations. The first thought I had was the burglar ; 
 the second, that Mrs. Blifkins* had been taken suddenly 
 insane, and was making me a sacrifice to her fury. This 
 seemed borne out by the fact : for, upon opening my eyes, 
 she stood over me with a lamp in one hand, and some arti 
 cle of clothing in the other, rolled up like a boxing-glove, 
 with which she had given me one punch in the eye, and 
 from the expression of her face I thought she was just 
 about giving another. 
 
 " For Heaven s sake, said I, what is the matter ? and 
 
40 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 jumped out of bed with an alacrity that I did not deem 
 myself capable of. 
 
 " I thought it was a mosquito/ replied she, with great 
 indifference in her tone, as I thought; but I see now it 
 was only the mole on your cheek ! y . 
 
 " Blast the mosquitoes/ cried I, infuriate ; ( and in 
 future, Mrs. Blifkins, before you attempt to kill mosquitoes 
 on my face, be sure they are what you suppose, and be 
 careful of buttons. 7 
 
 " I pointed out to her the abrasion of the skin that a but 
 ton on her mosquito exterminator had caused, and she was 
 dutifully sorry ; but that wouldn t prevent the black eye 
 I ve got this morning, you know, nor restore the sleep lost 
 for the rest of the night. 
 
 "Bad isn t it ?" said he, lifting up the patch again. 
 " Hereafter," continued he, " during the mosquito season, 
 I m going to sleep down cellar." 
 
 We tell the story nearly as he told it us, and leave the 
 world to draw its own moral from it, provided it has one. 
 
 VI. 
 
 BLIFKINS THE AUTHOR. 
 
 " I AM going to write for the press," said Blifkins, as his 
 wife asked him what he had under his arm when he came 
 home one day. He laid upon the table, as he spoke, a half 
 ream of paper, a box of steel pens, a pint bottle of ink, four 
 sheets of blotting-paper, a pot of mucilage, a new inkstand, 
 and a bunch of pen-holders. " I am going to write for the 
 press," he said, u and my name shall hereafter be known as 
 one of its most honored contributors." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 41 
 
 He said it gayly, with an assumed light-heartedness that 
 he often put on when met with similar questions as, 
 " Where have you been ? " " Who have you seen ? " and 
 the like. In this instance, however, there was more of 
 truth thafa marked his answers at times, because at those 
 other times there was an acerbity in the tone of the ques 
 tions that caused irritation, and the answers swerved occa 
 sionally from the line of honest confession, as the mag 
 netic needle will vary under peculiar influences. 
 
 "Yes/ continued he, "here, in the quiet of my own 
 home, surrounded by sweet domestic influences, will I 
 build me up a fabric of fame, and place the name of Blif- 
 kins among the stars." 
 
 Mrs. Blif kins, with the spirit of a true helpmeet, simply 
 said, "Nonsense! 7 and Blifkins, taking his stationery, 
 moved up stairs to the place which he called his " study." 
 He adopted this room and christened it his study in con 
 formity with a belief he had long held that every one 
 should have a place for retirement, where, the world shut 
 out, the soul could confer- with itself and become beatified 
 in the atmosphere of peace. The room was unfortunately 
 located for quiet, as below it was the piano-room, where 
 the elder children took their lessons, above it the nursery, 
 where the younger ones pursued their games, on the right 
 of it the reception-room, on the left of it the sewing-room, 
 provided with a sewing-machine, back of it a broad stair 
 way, and it fronted on the busiest street in town. But 
 Blifkins put a desk in one corner of it, hung up a shelf for 
 the accommodation of Worcester s Dictionary, and a The 
 saurus of English Words, stretched a map of Boston on 
 the wall, and called it his " snuggery," his " study," his 
 "sanctum," very pettingly. 
 
 Here was to be the field of his trials and his triumphs, 
 and here he brought his stationery preparatory to the in- 
 
42 PARTINGTONfAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 tellectual flights lie meditated. He sat down at his desk, 
 and arranged every tiling in the most judicious order, and 
 all wore a very literary aspect. Blif kins looked admiringly 
 upon the work of his hands, which was to be succeeded by 
 the work of his head, and dipped his pen in the inkstand, 
 ready to begin when the inspiration should come. 
 
 Arternus Ward says that " every man has his fort." 
 Blif kins knew this, and wondered what his " fort " was. 
 He thought it could not be poetry, for he despised the 
 effeminacy of rhyme ; neither could it be history, for he had 
 no sympathy with the ponderous sentences of the histori 
 ans. He felt that it was on the field of romance that he 
 was to excel, and he realized a glow of enthusiasm as he 
 reached this conclusion. Here he would compete with 
 Cobb, and Ingraham, and Murray, and win a fame coeval 
 with that of those stars in the literary firmament. 
 
 Every thing depends, of course, upon a title, all roman 
 cers know this, and the best story the world ever saw, 
 without the sensational prefix, might as well never have 
 been written, so far as popular favor is concerned. Its 
 perusal must be confined to the interest of a few friends, 
 and then forgotten. " The Bloody Handspike, or the 
 Pirate of the Coral B-eefs," contains a story in the very title ; 
 so does " The Eleven Giants of Castile, or the Ghost of the 
 Alhambra ; " and so does " The Wolf s Nest of the Pyrenees, 
 or the Doom of Domville." Blifkins sat there, with his 
 pen between his fingers, thinking of a title. For full fif 
 teen minutes he sat thus, looking down upon his sheet of 
 paper, which lay in unprofaned purity before him, occasion 
 ally running his fingers through his hair, as though en 
 deavoring to harrow a title up from the roots of it. But the 
 title wouldn t come. At last, his feelings wrought to their 
 utmost tension, the idea came to him as the shower of gold 
 did to the young spendthrift, who, when reduced to his 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 43 
 
 last penny, essayed to hang himself, agreeably to a pleas 
 ant codicil in his father s will recommending such course, 
 and pulled the treasure about his ears that the wily old 
 gentleman had placed behind the fatal beam. The idea 
 came, ancf Blifkins wrote 
 
 " The Cruise of the Seven Pollies : 
 A Tale of the Sea. 
 
 "At the close of a lovely day in the autumn of 1816, the 
 sun sinking beneath the western wave, leaving behind a 
 trail of effulgent glory, bathing every object in its crimson 
 light, the Seven Pollies came to her moorings in Ossipee 
 Bay. Her captain was a mere youth, but upon his brow 
 were discernible the marks of deep care, and as he gazed 
 earnestly towards the shore, he said to the first officer, who 
 leaned listlessly over the rail " 
 
 Mr. Blif kins ! " 
 
 The sudden call from below startled Blifkins from his 
 meditation, and he forgot what the captain was going to 
 say. It was his wife s voice that had threatened the story 
 of the Seven Pollies." 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! " 
 
 The cry came louder this time, and Blifkins, opening 
 the door, inquired, in a voice as vehement as a melodramic 
 boatswain s 
 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, will you come down and get some coal ? 
 The fire is out in the grate, and mercy knows I have to 
 work hard enough without going down cellar after coal, 
 though some men think it is a woman s place to do so, and 
 to do all sorts of drudgery, while they sit down and fold 
 their hands, and have nothing to do." 
 
 More was said, but Blifkins closed the door, and the 
 rest subsided to a murmur. He left his story upon the 
 
44 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 table, and went down to perform the required service. He 
 was an adept in bringing up coal, he had got so used to 
 it. At whatever time of night or day he might be in 
 the house, he was called upon to bring coal. He was 
 chained to an unbending destiny that had coal for its for 
 mula. An English friend of the family called him a " hod 
 fellow ; " and it was a pleasant thing for him to say, " Poor 
 Tom s a coaled," which melancholy and sombre joke 
 alwaj^s elicited a smile. Blifkins was wont to express the 
 belief that if he was at the last mortal strait, his thoughts 
 reaching into the unseen world, he would be recalled by 
 the demand for coal a forcible but very preposterous 
 idea. 
 
 Having discharged this duty, he again retired to com 
 mune with the " Seven Follies," He sat down at his desk, 
 and read what he had written, but he couldn t recall what 
 the youthful captain was going to say. He took out his 
 penknife, and unconsciously whittled away at his pen 
 holder, until the floor was covered with chips. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins," said his wife, suddenly breaking upon 
 him from a side door like an avalanche, "aren t you mak 
 ing a pretty mess here ? Look at these chips now. You 
 won t be so ready to gather them up, I dare say. But no 
 matter it is only another grain added to the burden. 
 1 The Cruise of the Seven Follies ! ? So this is what you 
 have been doing? Well, what did he sa^ ?" 
 
 "Upon my word," said Blifkins, "I haven t the least 
 idea, at present ; it was in my head, but was entirely driven 
 out by a hod of coal." 
 
 "That s it, Mr. Blifkins, that s it," said she ; "make me 
 responsible for every thing ; I dare say you will accuse me 
 of destroying your appetite next. Think of a poor 
 woman s duties, and then you will never make so much fuss 
 because you have to get a hodful of coal in a day." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEES. 45 
 
 Blifkins groaned, and Mrs. Blifkins went out, slamming 
 the door after her. 
 
 : " He said to the first officer, who leaned listlessly 
 over the rail " 
 
 A bran" new pen hovered over the sentence to finish it, 
 and the eyes of Blifkins, in a fine frenzy rolling, stared 
 fixedly upon the page before him. At last he threw the 
 manuscript into his desk, and went out, impressed with the 
 idea that the influences were unfavorable for inspiration, 
 and that a man could not tap himself, like a cider barrel, 
 for thought when he chose ; particularly inveighing, in his 
 own mind, against the coal hod that had smothered his 
 idea. 
 
 " What did the captain say ? " Mrs. Blifkins inquired 
 the next day at dinner, with a mischievous twinkle of her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Blifkins pushed back his chair, and went up to his 
 " study," remarking before he went that he would show 
 people that some things could be done as well as others 
 an exceedingly original remark, which went to show the 
 lively nature of Blifkins s fancy. 
 
 " He said to the first officer, who leaned listlessly 
 
 over the rail " 
 
 " What the deuse did he say ? " said Blifkins, dipping 
 his pen again and again into the inkstand, as though the 
 word were in there, and he were trying to dig it out. He 
 was in the condition of the man who -had ideas enough, 
 but couldn t think of them. 
 
 Click ! click ! click ! click ! 
 
 The sewing-machine in the sewing-room sent up a pleas 
 ant note ; Mrs. Blifkins and a neighbor were discussing do 
 mestic economy in the sitting-room ; Mary Jane thrummed 
 the piano in the room below; above, the children "volleyed 
 and thundered j" the little boy was dragging his truckle- 
 
46 PAKTINGTOXIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 cart down stairs ; and in the street an alarm of fire made 
 noise enough to drown the crash of the Union when it 
 breaks. 
 
 Poor Blifkins seized his hat and rushed out in a condi 
 tion bordering on despair. 
 
 We were in his study a few days since, and as we sat 
 conversing with him he told us his experience, ^he ambi 
 tion that had inspired him, and its failure. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins," said a voice on the stairs, " will you 
 come down and bring up some coal ? " 
 
 He looked at us sadly, and went out like a lamp poorly 
 trimmed. We lifted a sheet of paper from the floor, and 
 upon looking at the writing found it to be 
 
 " The Cruise of the Seven Follies : 
 A Tale of the Sea. 
 
 " At the close of a lovely day, &c., &c., &c., he said to 
 the first officer, who leaned listlessly over the rail" 
 And that is all that the world will ever know of it. 
 
 VII. 
 
 BLTFKINS THE COASTER. 
 
 BLIFKINS paid us a winter morning call, and asked us 
 if we had ever thought of the danger to pedestrians, of 
 "coasting." We told him that we thought, as that practice 
 of the boys was now confined to the Common, and was all 
 the time under the eye of the police, it was not well to 
 say any thing about it, because the boys must play some 
 where, and if we could keep them from the streets, that 
 was as much as we might reasonably expect. He gave 
 what seemed a very unwilling assent to this, and said, 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 47 
 
 " What do you mean ? " we inquired. 
 
 " Nothing," he replied, " of any value to anybody but 
 myself, as the advertisements of lost wallets say. I ve 
 beon thrown." 
 
 Ah," we said, " that alters the position of things." 
 
 " Certainly," he replied, with a sepulchral laugh* " It 
 altered mine." 
 
 " How was it ? " we asked. 
 
 " Why," said he, " as I was passing down the Park 
 Street Mall, indulging in an attempt to call to mind a 
 commission with which Mrs. Blifkins had intrusted me, 
 and was necessarily considerably confused, my ear was as 
 sailed by the cry of, { Ulla, ulla ! which arrested my at 
 tention, inasmuch as it brought to memory my early expe 
 riences in Constantinople, where the cry, Allah il Allah 
 was frequently heard. I was then struck by the sound, 
 and in a moment more was struck by something more tan 
 gible, as a boy s head was thrust between my legs, and I 
 was thrown violently on my back, with my legs elevated 
 in the air like the two masts of a schooner. I could not 
 rally my faculties for some time to determine the charac 
 ter of the disaster ; but I found myself going onward with 
 great velocity, while a voice beneath me cried out, vehe 
 mently, Get off o my back ! The wind was high at 
 the time, and my hat, taking advantage of my position, 
 basely seceded, rolling away on its rim with a frantic ex 
 ultation, seemingly, at its freedom. I came to the conclu 
 sion, before I came to the foot of the hill, that I was a vic 
 tim of coasting ; and, indeed, with my feet elevated, I 
 bore no inapt likeness to a fore-and-after scudding under 
 bare poles. Upon getting on my legs, I found that I had 
 been an object of great interest among the boys, who had 
 regarded my involuntary race as a thing for competition, 
 and gave me three cheers and a tiger, as they gathered 
 
48 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 round me, at my success ; for our sled, from the increased 
 momentum caused by my fall, had come in several lengths 
 ahead. But glancing upon the spectators who had marked 
 my feat, my horror was great to observe one of my female 
 neighbors, who would, I knew, at once convey the news of 
 my discomfiture to Mrs. Blifkins. 
 
 " Gracious goodness ! said she. Mr. Blifkins, who 
 would have thought it ? I declare I never saw such a 
 sight before ! 
 
 " Probably not, ma am, I replied, somewhat chagrined, 
 because, as I approached you in the manner I did, tjie 
 sight must have been behind. 
 
 " I was abundantly avenged. She looked at me with a 
 grim smile, and went to tell my wife, which she did with 
 a regard for embellishment that stamped her as an artist 
 of much brilliancy of fancy. My hat was stopped by a 
 friend s putting his foot in it." 
 
 He ceased his narration, and asked what we thought of 
 it. We told him that it was another capital illustration 
 of the mutability of earthly things, of our danger of fall 
 ing even when feeling most secure, and of the ups and 
 downs in life. We still clung to the idea that the boys 
 must have their fun ; and made him at last admit that, if 
 he had used proper care, and kept his eyes open, the ac 
 cident and its attendant mortification could not have 
 occurred. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEK$. 49 
 
 VIII. 
 BLIFKINS THE MOURNER. 
 
 " BLESS my soul ! " said Blifkins, as he took up , morn 
 ing paper ; " so poor Whifnetree is dead thrown out of 
 his carriage, eh? How suddenly these things do come 
 upon us, to be sure ! Here to-day, and there to-morrow. 
 Heigh-ho ! " 
 
 It was a deep sigh that Blifkins brought up from the 
 depths of his feelings, and he lighted a fresh cigar, to do 
 full justice to the subject that filled him. 
 
 " He was not so old as I am by three years," he rumi 
 nated ; " seemed likely to live for a great while, and be a 
 blessing to to livery stable-keepers; and here he is, 
 now, swept away like the blaze of a candle, or the ashes 
 of a cigar ! Hather rough ; but death takes us at any dis 
 advantage, and we are gone before we think of it. I won 
 der how much he has left ? Not much, I guess, for he has 
 lived close up to his means, if he basn t exceeded them, 
 and his wife doesn t know tbe first step of prudence." 
 
 Who may know, beyond conjecture, what tribute be 
 paid to the economical virtues of Mrs. Blifkins in this re 
 flection ! Not a word was uttered ; but how natural it 
 was to let his mind revert to the many modes of saving 
 inaugurated by that excellent woman, which, though re 
 garded a bore by himself, nevertheless kept money in his 
 pocket. Anybody else would have thought of this ; but 
 Blifkins, it must be remembered, is a " brute," as Mrs. 
 Blifkins has many times affectionately remarked, and has 
 not those nice pqrceptions of womanly excellence, it is 
 feared, that he has of cigars. 
 5 
 
50 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 "Poor Whiffletree!" he continued. "It isn t a week 
 since I played billiards with him. Capital player ! Gave 
 me twenty-five, and beat me. Promised to teach me his 
 game ; but guess he will have something else to think of. 
 Wonder when he is to be buried ? t To-morrow at three 
 o clock, from his late residence in Puddle Lane. Well, 
 tis the last I can do for him, and I ll attend his funeral. 
 Poor Whif!" 
 
 He concluded his cigar; but he could not banish the 
 accident from his mind. Whiffletree infused himself into 
 all his business. He drew a check payable to Whiffletree. 
 He addressed a telegraph despatch to Whiffletree. He 
 asked his clerk if any letters had been received from 
 Whiffletree. At night he went home dispirited, and told 
 Mrs. Blifkins what had happened. She is a woman of 
 wonderful calmness, and heard it with great placidity, re 
 marking that she was sorry he hadn t .been a better man. 
 For her part, she said, she wondered why men of respecta 
 ble families could associate with such people as he had 
 been, and thought it very strange she would not say 
 desirable that the accident hadn t happened years be 
 fore. This, of course, awakened Blifkins to a defence of 
 his friend, and a few moments were spent in a delightful 
 interchange of sentiment, that ended in deeper contem- 
 plativeness on his part, and a more general withdrawal of 
 Mrs. Blifkins into her domestic pursuits, firing an occa 
 sional shell, as the turret of her thoughts revolved to a 
 proper bearing, to which Blifkins was oblivious. He was 
 asleep on the sofa. 
 
 The next day he adhered to his determination to go to 
 the funeral, though no further remark was made on the 
 subject. Blifkins had found that, as matters became liable 
 to provoke discussion, it was better that they should be 
 dropped ; and Whiffletree was banished forever from that 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 51 
 
 precinct. He went down town in a humor not the hap 
 piest, and his displeasure was heightened J>y the fact that 
 the shares bought by his partner in the Universal Wash 
 ing-machine and Clothes-pin Manufacturing Company had 
 fallen in value five per cent by the last report from the 
 Brokers Board. 
 
 Every one has noticed that when one has an object in 
 view, particularly if he wishes to go away, a thousand 
 things rush in to prevent its accomplishment. Thus it was 
 with Blifkins. As the hour of three arrived, it seemed as 
 if Dame Fortune had taken that moment wherein to ply 
 him with business, and he thought that she had, in her 
 blindness, made a mistake regarding the time of day. He 
 had, as it was, to leave several things to be finished up by 
 the clerks and his partners, and started at the time to at 
 tend the funeral. 
 
 " Puddle Lane ! " said he to himself. " Where the deuse 
 is Puddle Lane ? " 
 
 " Did you speak to me, sir ? " inquired a voice by his 
 side. 
 
 " No, sir ; I was talking to myself," replied Blifkins, a 
 little sharply. 
 
 " Ask pardon, sir," said the owner of the voice. " Con 
 gratulate you on having so pleasant a companion." 
 
 " Where s Puddle Lane ? " Blifkins inquired of a cab 
 man standing at a corner. 
 
 " I ll carry yer there," was the reply. " Can t tell yer, 
 because it would be agin my biz." 
 
 " Mercenary wretch ! " thought Blifkins ; " and I going 
 to poor Whiffletree s funeral ! " 
 
 " Puddle Lane, sir," said a seedy-looking individual, with 
 a red nose, standing by, " is up to the West End, sir, near 
 the hospital. Take the right hand corner arter you come 
 to the scliool-houss, and then let me see: one, two, three 
 
52 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 the fourth turn is Puddle Lane. You can t help miss 
 ing it." 
 
 " Thank you," said Blifkins, handing him a specimen of 
 postal currency, which, the man, with a slight cough, de 
 posited in his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 Blifkins went as directed, but found, when he had ar 
 rived at the West End, that he had not got from the man 
 who directed him the name of the street where the" school- 
 house was located, nor the name of the school-house itself. 
 He asked a little colored boy if he could tell him where 
 Puddle Lane was, who set up a fearful cry, as though he 
 (Blifkins) had been a slave-catcher ; and he scarcely dared 
 inquire again. Going on a block farther, he came to a 
 school-house, and, trusting to luck, he turned the corner, as 
 directed by the man. He went along counting the streets, 
 and, looking down the one corresponding with the direction, 
 he saw a number of carriages standing before a door, and 
 felt that he was right. He went to the door, rung the bell, 
 and was admitted. 
 
 The services were nearly concluded, the closing portion 
 of which dwelt with particular earnestness upon the vir 
 tues of the deceased, to which he listened with delighted 
 surprise, and thought to himself what a triumphant an 
 swer it would be to Mrs. Blifkins s charges, could she hear 
 what was said of his deceased friend, and wondered how 
 he had done so much good without his knowing it. It 
 occurred to him, indeed, that the good man was laying it 
 on a little thick regarding his virtues, and estimated the 
 chances of Whiffletree himself, in shadowy presence, being 
 there, blushing at praise which, at least, appeared rather 
 exaggerated. If such a thing is permitted as "coining 
 back," and, indeed, do we go ? many a ghostly cheek 
 must redden at hyperbole which partial lips express 
 hardly deserved. But the time prompts to kindness, and 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 53 
 
 this excused, if it did not justify, the eulogy to the mind 
 of Blifkins. 
 
 " Do you ride with the mourners ? " an attendant asked, 
 with a subdued voice. 
 
 " I hardly know," replied Blifkins, in a deep whisper ; 
 " hut I was one of his most intimate friends." 
 
 " What name, sir ? " was asked. 
 
 "Blifkins," he whispered, "Benjamin Blifkins." 
 
 The man left him, and the calling commenced. Very 
 soon he heard his name uttered ; and, entering the coach, 
 he found himself vis-a-vis with a remarkably fine-looking 
 young woman, a friend of the family likewise, whose 
 dark eyes scanned Mr. Blifkins very inquiringly as he en 
 tered. Her face was one of the conversational sort that 
 provoke address bright and sparkling, with an epigram 
 in every line of it. The others in the coach were grave 
 people, excellent for mourners at anybody s funeral, 
 with no talk in them. After riding some distance, Blif 
 kins began : 
 
 " Twas a very sad affair, madam." 
 
 " Yes, .sir," was the reply j " but it must .happen to all 
 of us sooner or later." 
 
 " Very true ; but it was so sudden ! " said Blifkins. 
 
 " Yes ; but he has been going rather fast lately." 
 
 " Ah, he has, I know. And therefore I wonder at the 
 nature of the remarks that were made." 
 
 " He was always ready." 
 
 Blifkins nodded ; yet he couldn t reconcile the word 
 " ready " with any thing but a team and a pair of runners. 
 He settled at last upon the argument with which he met 
 the address, kindness for the departed, but remained 
 silent for some time. 
 
 " Have you known him long ? " the lady asked. 
 
 " He was the friend of my early days ono of the best 
 
54 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 of fellows possessed very few foibles, though some 
 were severe upon him called him a little fast, you 
 know*." 
 
 " Fast ? " and her eyes blazed as though she was very 
 much astonished. There was a little fun in the tone, too, 
 he thought. 
 
 " Well, yes," he replied ; " some would call it so ; but 
 those who knew him well enough to allow for the exuber 
 ance of his generous spirit would give it a softer name." 
 
 " Did you say ( exuberance of spirit ? " she almost 
 screamed, causing the other persons in the coach to look 
 round. 
 
 " I did," said he. " I have been with him myself when 
 he might be open to the suspicion that has been breathed. 
 Have seen him, indeed, at times, when he was not in con 
 dition to lead in class-meeting ; yet a more honest and 
 better-hearted fellow it was never my lot to meet." 
 
 The lady covered her face with her handkerchief, and 
 Blifkins saw, as he supposed, the ill he had done in har 
 rowing up her feelings by a recital of his good qualities. 
 Her agitation was very marked, and she remained silent 
 for some time. At last she looked up, without the trace 
 of a tear in her eye, and said, 
 
 " How well you must have known him ! The character 
 you have given him is very correct, though I must say that 
 I never saw " 
 
 Here the carriage stopped, and the driver, letting the 
 steps down, interrupted the sentence she had begun. 
 Blifkins handed the lady out with proper ceremony, and, 
 offering his arm, they joined the procession, moving sol 
 emnly and peacefully through the shades of Mount Hope, 
 that charming resting-place for the dead. An opportunity 
 was to be afforded here to see the deceased ; and Blifkins, 
 as he went along, plucked a leaf from an overbending tree, 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 55 
 
 which he was going to place in the casket, and recalled 
 those sweet lines of Halleck s repeated so often, 
 
 " Green be the turf above thee," &c. 
 
 Gathering in a solemn circle, amid the most impressive 
 stillness, each stepped forward to take the last look. It 
 was Blifkins s turn, and, with demure countenance, he 
 prepared to take his final leave of his friend, when, as he 
 looked into the stony face before him, he saw, not Whiffie- 
 tree, hut Deacon Hardhead, a man whose reputation for 
 closeness had won him a name by no means desirable, and 
 who once had become possessed of a note of Blifkins s, 
 which he pressed with most persistent energy till he paid 
 it, putting him to some considerable inconvenience to raise 
 the funds at a time when money was scarce. Blifkins had 
 hated him cordially ever since ; and to find himself now 
 one of a retinue to do him honor, and his friend Whiffle- 
 tree denied his tribute, caused a feeling that he could not 
 overcome. Even his fair companion could not reconcile 
 him to the false position he was in, at the wrong funeral, 
 and, stopping the carriage at the first railway track, he 
 rode to town in the horse-car, feeling that he had been 
 outrageously swindled. 
 
 It all came from that mischievous man s direction, for 
 everybody knows that Puddle Lane isn t in that part of 
 the city. 
 
56 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 
 
 IX. 
 
 MR. BLIFKINS SEES KEAN. 
 
 
 "I SHOULD like to see Kean," said Mrs. Blifkins, at the 
 
 breakfast table, reading a very eulogistic criticism of the 
 Keans. " I suppose, however, that I must do without it, 
 though Mrs. Brown has been, and says he is divine." 
 
 "Like to see Kean?" replied Benjamin, poising his cup 
 on the way to his mouth. "I never saw one that could 
 see keener. Those eyes, whose rays outshine the morn, 
 have the penetration of gimlets." 
 
 "Now, do make yourself ridiculous!" said she, though 
 a little moved by the flattery ; and Blifkins, before he left 
 the house, assured Mrs. B. that she should see Kean that 
 evening. 
 
 This was on Thursday. Mr. Blifkins went to the store. 
 There was an unusual rush of business during the day, 
 and at five o clock he set out, perspiringly, for home. He 
 reached a horse-car that was passing, full to its utmost 
 capacity, and catching the rail, he swung himself on to 
 the platform, where he hung by one foot, like a fly, one 
 gentleman puffing a broadside of tobacco smoke into his 
 face, and another diffusing the same through his back hair, 
 which came out around the rim of his hat, like steam" from 
 around a wash-boiler cover. There was some obstruction 
 on the track, and Mr. Blifkins, in thinking of the home 
 comfort that awaited him, was disturbed. 
 
 " These cars are nuisances," said he, spitefully. 
 
 " So are you," said an obese man, who was hanging to 
 the same rail with himself. 
 
 " Why ? " Blifkins asked, with some surprise. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 57 
 
 " Because you have been kicking my corns ever since 
 you got on here," said the obese man ; " and if I hadn t 
 seen jest how you was sitoowated, I d ha pitched ye off." 
 
 Blifkins s first thought was resentment ; but his second 
 thought, as he looked at . the obese man, was pacific. It 
 was nearly six o clock when he arrived home, where he 
 found Mrs. B. arrayed in all the magnificence of toilet of 
 which her wardrobe was susceptible ; and to his inquiry 
 if she was going out, she opened her eyes wide with as 
 tonishment, and said, 
 
 " Certainly ! I m going to see Kean. Where are the 
 tickets?" 
 
 Blifkins was a truthful man generally ; but he dared 
 not encounter that eye whose rays outshone the morn, as 
 he had said in the morning, and he replied, while pretend 
 ing to look out of the window, 
 
 " Couldn t get em. All sold before I got down town." 
 
 Mrs. Blifkins was exceedingly provoked ; but as it was 
 so evidently a case of ill luck, rather than stupidity, on Mr. 
 Blifkins s part, she merely said that it was always the way, 
 she never lotted on going anywhere in her life that 
 there was not some disappointment attending it, and 
 subsided into silence over her tea. 
 
 " You know I can t go to-morrow night, Benjamin," said 
 Mrs. B., " because the sewing circle meets here." 
 
 " True," said Blifkins ; " but as I go. down, I will step 
 in, and buy some tickets for Saturday night, ahead of any 
 of them, and then we can have a choice of seats." 
 
 This being the understanding, a pleasant atmosphere 
 pervaded the mansion of Blifkins, with the single excep 
 tion of a disturbance in the kitchen, where Sailor Boy, the 
 dog, indulged in the attempt to draw the cat by the tail 
 through the back of a chair, and, pulling the chair over on 
 to him, provoked certain yelps that brought the entire 
 
58 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 household to the spot. Blifkins reclined upon the sofa 
 with Quentin Durward in his hand, trying to find out 
 something about Louis XI., and dropped off into a sound 
 sleep, maugre Mrs. Blifkins s conversation, which mean 
 dered among his dreams like the babbling of a brook. 
 
 The sewing circle was a success, and Mrs. Blifkins feli 
 citated herself that the one held at Mrs. Jones s wasn t a 
 circumstance to it. Blifkins dined at the club. Ho had 
 purchased his tickets to see Kean, and his mind was as 
 unperturbed as a morning in May. 
 
 He thought he would go home early on Saturday, and 
 get ready for the play ; but just as he was ready to start, 
 as in the case of John Gilpin when about embarking on 
 his wedding anniversary excursion, "he saw a customer 
 come in," and, like the Gilpin aforesaid, he was disposed to 
 " cultivate " him. The customer proved shy ; stopped a 
 good while to talk about trifles ; introduced a good many 
 outside subjects, including the settlement of the Alabama 
 claims; and Blifkins, looking at his watch, found him 
 self a full hour beyond his usual time of leaving. 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " said he ; " I d no idea it was so late. 
 I am going to the theatre to-night, and should have been 
 home two hours ago ; " and calling to his partner, he 
 turned the customer over to him, thinking all the while of 
 the reception at home when he should make his late ap 
 pearance there. He well knew that an excuse would be of 
 no avail, because the normal condition of Mrs. B. s mind 
 was doubt; she was prone ever to see wrong motives, and 
 to measure Blifkins by his weak side. She ^reserved her 
 doubt as an exclusive right, and had one presumed to 
 touch upon it by insinuating in the least degree that Blif 
 kins was not immaculate for veracity, there would be a 
 row. 
 
 " Well, you ve come," said she as he entered the door. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 59 
 
 Adopting the Duke s Motto, in a gay tone he replied, 
 
 " I am here." 
 
 " Tis a pretty time to come home!" continued she, 
 " when you know it takes one so long to get ready. I am 
 almost minded not to go." 
 
 " My dear," said Blifkins, holding up his tickets, " I was 
 delayed at the store by a customer " 
 
 " Oh, bother ! " she replied, interrupting him. " I ve 
 heard that too many times. Had any one else wanted 
 your presence or service, I dare say the customer would 
 not have prevented you." 
 
 Blifkins whistled Di Provenza, and sat down to a hasty 
 supper. Mrs. Blifkins, with every thing laid out prepara 
 tory, had no very extensive exertions to make to be ready, 
 and they were soon on their way to the horse-cars, which 
 would take them within a few steps of the theatre. Be 
 fore leaving the house, Mrs. Blifkins advised him to take 
 out his fare, as she thought it wrong for a man to expose 
 his wallet in the cars ; and he came very near falling 
 under the wheels of a passing wagon, before they got in, 
 from the extra exertion she made to keep him from dan 
 ger. There never yet was a woman of one hundred and 
 twenty-five avoirdupois that did not think her protection 
 necessary to save her husband from harm, though he were 
 as big as Goliath of Gath. 
 
 They arrived late at the theatre, as some genteel people 
 like to do, and, as the seats reserved for him were in the 
 middle of the longest row in the house, there was much 
 crowding of crinoline, and much ruffling of temper, as they 
 forced their way to the* position assigned them by the po 
 lite usher. Once seated, they turned their attention to the 
 play, when Blifkins found that he had no bill. He blamed 
 the usher very much for neglecting him as he came in, 
 hi not giving him a bill, and thought about getting a friend 
 
60 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 of his, who is a reporter, to put something in the paper 
 about it. 
 
 The play was strange to him. It was a story of rob 
 bery, and violence, and throat-cutting, and other unpleas 
 ant things, with lots of gunpowder; but Blifkins did 
 not stop to criticise the piece, his mind being absorbed 
 by the principal figure, a robber of a very superior class 
 and fine manners, dressed in elegant clothes, that he knew 
 must be Kean ; every motion and word of whom he de 
 voured. He had seen Kean when he was in Boston sev 
 enteen years before, and remarked to Mrs. Blifkins that he 
 didn t seem a day older than when he saw him last ; to 
 which she, not understanding him, replied, " Yes." 
 
 Blifkins was rapturous in his applause. At every sen 
 tence his kids came together with the vehemence of two 
 goats in a melee, and he made such demonstrations as he 
 thought would show to outsiders that he knew a thing or 
 two about plays, and that Kean couldn t get around his 
 appreciation of any point he might make. He applauded 
 some points so loudly, that people around him cried, 
 "Hush ! sh-sh !" to his utter disgust, and some laughed. 
 
 Mrs. Blifkins was not at all enthusiastic. She was a 
 woman who always reserved her warmest praise, and nev 
 er wasted any of the article at all. Blifkins was some 
 times accustomed to say that if she had been present at 
 the seventh day of the creation, she would -have withheld 
 her praise till next day.- She made no sign of like or dis 
 like, but sat with the close attention that the great actor 
 merited, and when the play was over she expressed the 
 wish to go home. 
 
 Blifkins thought that the highest compliment to be paid 
 a play or an actor was to be content with it or him, nor 
 allow any other to compete with them, and he assented 
 without a murmur, not waiting for the farce. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 61 
 
 " Ah, Blifkins, you here ? " said his friend Jolliboy, com- . 
 ing forward arid shaking him by the hand ; " and Mrs. 
 Blifkins ! I declare this is an unexpected pleasure." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Blifkins ; " Benjamin wished to see 
 Kean, and I thought it would be a relief from household 
 cares to come with Aim." 
 
 Blifkins didn t think this was putting it quite right, but 
 said nothing in reply, merely remarking to Jolliboy, 
 
 " He plays very well for an old man." 
 
 " Not so old, either," said Jolliboy, who at fifty was still 
 laying claim to juvenility. 
 
 "Why, he must be near sixty over fifty, at least, 
 said Blifkins, mentally calculating the difference of time 
 betwixt then and now. 
 
 "Why, no," replied Jolliboy; "it can t be more than 
 twenty years since he went to school in South Boston. 
 
 " Who ? " said Blifkins ; " Charles Kean ? " 
 
 "No, Frank Mayo," replied Jolliboy; " what has Charles 
 Kean to do with it ? " 
 
 "Oh, nothing!" said Blifkins, squeezing Mrs. Blifkins s 
 arm in order to keep her from saying any thing, seeing that 
 he had made a mistake ; "nothing, only I was thinking of 
 Kean at the moment that s all." 
 
 " I never saw the character of Charles de Moor played 
 better," said Jolliboy, enthusiastically. 
 
 "Nor I," responded Blifkins. 
 
 Mrs. Blifkins said nothing. 
 
62 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 X. 
 
 BLIFKINS S MOONLIGHT TRIP. 
 
 % 
 
 "I NEVER told you about my moonlight excursion, last 
 summer," said Blifkins, smiling, as he sat and gazed " upon 
 the bust of Pallas just above our study door." 
 
 There was something provokingly funny in his look, and 
 he drummed the "Hallelujah" upon the chair, looking up 
 at the bust aforesaid, as though he were exchanging pri 
 vate signals with the insensate plaster. 
 
 " What excursion was that ? " we asked, looking up from 
 the work whereon we were engaged. 
 
 He burst into a laugh long and loud, and his sides shook 
 again with the accretive humor that had evidently been 
 gathering strength for the present explosion, when it could 
 break out in an unembarrassed atmosphere. Such bois- 
 terousness was unusual to him, and indeed it was offensive, 
 because the sacredness of the editorial precinct, given to 
 grave meditation, should not be profaned by exuberance 
 that finds voice above the breath, and we checked him by 
 telling him not to make a donkey of himself by braying 
 so unseemly. He kept on laughing, though moderating 
 his tone, and then said, 
 
 " In the Nelly Baker." 
 
 " Why, the Nelly Baker has stopped running for a 
 month," we said ; " what do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean," he replied, " the most curious thing that ever 
 happened to me, and one which I have wanted to tell you 
 for a long time. I thought of it just as I came in here, 
 and looked at that bust. Whose is it ? " 
 
 " Pallas." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 63 
 
 " Pallas, is it ? " he continued ; " but it looks amazingly 
 like the widow Thompson." 
 
 " And pray who may be the widow Thompson ? " we 
 asked, looking Blifkins in the eye, and through that avenue 
 away down into his soul ; u who is she ? " 
 
 He smiled mysteriously in reply, still beating the " Hal 
 lelujah " on the arm of the chair, and turned his eyes again 
 towards the bust of Pallas. 
 
 " Well, the matter was here," he said : " Spear, of the 
 Nelly Baker, invited me to go down in the harbor on one 
 of the moonlight excursions that they had last summer, 
 and I went home with the invitation fresh in my mind to 
 induce my wife to go with me. The normal condition of 
 Mrs. Blifkins s mind being opposition, of course as soon as 
 I mentioned it, with all the eloquent force of my enthusi 
 astic temper, she met it with a rebuff that almost drove me 
 out of the house. I was, I confess, a little discomposed 
 at this, having expected a different reception for a proposi 
 tion that sought her happiness, and seated myself moodily 
 by the table, with my head upon my hand, thinking, I 
 am constrained to say, upon other scenes than those that 
 surrounded me, and another form than that which made 
 the central figure of my domestic picture, murmuring to 
 myself, inside, It might have been. Excuse the digres 
 sion ; but Whittier has by those few words let many peo 
 ple into the secret of their unhappiness who never other 
 wise would have dreamt of it. Had he been a married 
 man he never would have written them for politic reasons. 
 I was giving way to these fancies, when 
 
 " f Mr. Blifkins, said my wife, you know I m tired to 
 death, delving and slaving all day, and that s the reason 
 why you ask me to go, I suppose, thinking I will refuse. 
 I ll go. 
 
 " l Why will you impute such mean motives to me ? I 
 
64 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 asked; must I be your devoted slave for another twenty- 
 five years before you are convinced of my devotedness? 
 
 " She made no reply. 
 
 " The night was a charming one. The full moon made 
 every thing bright and beautiful, and a refreshing breeze 
 swept over the water, cooling the fever that the day had 
 caused. There was a large party on board *a curious 
 mixture of materials, thrown together at random, and as 
 incongruous as well could be. All were ripe for a good 
 time, which was the harmonizing element the oil that 
 neutralized antagonisms, and fused the mass into sapona 
 ceous completeness." 
 
 " Soap ! " we said. 
 
 " Don t interrupt me, please ; the simile is a good one. 
 We steamed down the river in fine style, the waves bright 
 with moonbeams and sparkling like silver. The sound of 
 dashing water is pleasant to the ear, and to me is sugges 
 tive of many dreams. I love to look over the rail and see 
 the foamy wake that follows the stroke of the paddle- 
 wheels, and list to the hissing murmur that rises from 
 the water, indulging in fantasies that realize the magic 
 tales of Undine and the Naiads. And it is not bad 
 either, to take a cigar and sit by the prow, and watch the 
 bone that ripples up from the sharp cutwater in a gen 
 tle and trickling song, as soothing as a lullaby. On com 
 ing aboard, I had introduced Mrs. Blifkins to my friend 
 Hodges, and leaving her very busy in conversation with 
 him, I was strolling to the forward part of the boat to 
 enjoy a cigar, when a light hand was placed upon my arm 
 as I emerged from the shadow of the. awning, and a soft 
 voice said, 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Blifkins. " 
 
 " Mrs. Thompson ? " we queried ; but without moving his 
 eyes from the bust of Pallas, Blifkins went on : 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 65 
 
 "I started at the well-recognized tones, and there, un 
 attended, was the widow Thompson. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Thompson/ I said, this is an unex 
 pected pleasure ; to what fortunate star am I indebted for 
 this sweet surprise ? 
 
 " That/ she replied, pointing to the moon. 
 
 " Thanks, mos f , propitious planet/ said I, with enthu 
 siasm : Luna shall hereafter he my lodestar, and that " the 
 devil s in the moon for mischief 7 shall be placed among the 
 forgotten slanders hatched in the poet s teeming brain. 7 I 
 took her hand as I spoke, and then we stood by the wheel- 
 house together, and talked moonshine, and the nonsense 
 born of romance, for many a mile. She informed me that 
 she was on board in company with a young couple who had 
 as much as they could do to think of themselves, without 
 looking after her, but thought it prudent to join them, 
 which she did, and I returned to Mrs. Blifkins. 
 
 " You are very gallant, I declare/ said that excellent 
 woman, leaving me in charge of others. It was a fortu 
 nate thing that Mr. Hodges was on board, or I don t know 
 what I should have done. 7 
 
 " My love, it shows what confidence I put in you/ I 
 said, trembling, as conscience gave me a castigating 
 thump ; I am not jealous, you know. 7 
 
 "Hodges pretended that he saw somebody he wished to 
 speak to, and hurried away, leaving me to Mrs. Blifkins. 
 
 " Been enjoying yourself, I dare say/ said she. 
 
 " Entirely/ replied I ; I thought I would go forward 
 and smoke a cigar ; had an excellent time. 7 
 
 " There must be a great deal of fascination in a cigar/ 
 she said, tartly, to attract a man away from his wife at 
 such a time. 7 
 
 " I thought you were very comfortable with Hodges/ I 
 replied : a good fellow is Hodges. 7 
 
 6* 
 
66 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " He will do, she replied, if one cannot have one s hus 
 band to speak to. 
 
 " I endeavored to make myself agreeable. I pointed out 
 the beauties of shore and sea; talked poetry, improvised 
 speeches, essayed apostrophes ; but it all fell on unheed 
 ing ears, and I was not glad when the boat stopped at 
 Nahant. 
 
 " Hodges/ said I, look after my wife again, will you ? 
 Your eloquence has so eclipsed mine that all I can say 
 fails to move her. You are a fascinating fellow chuck 
 ing him under the ribs as I spoke. 
 
 "I was glad to see him as carefully handing her up the 
 steep steps at the landing as though she were made of 
 glass. Sh& looked round at me with eyes of wonderful in 
 difference, I thought, and as she disappeared above the bank 
 I gazed upon the other climbers, and close by my side was 
 Mrs. Thompson. 
 
 " Bless me/ said I, holding out my hand ; ( how fortu 
 nate ! allow me/ and I assisted her up. 
 
 " Taking my arm, we walked along together, communing 
 most delightedly. Her delicate hand burned and palpi 
 tated on my coat sleeve, and its electric influence coursed 
 through the veins of my arm, and thence to my heart. 
 
 " Blessings on the hour that brought you here/ I said ; 
 and blessed be the moon, whose power moved you to 
 come ! 
 
 " I hurried away with Mrs. Thompson upon my arm, and 
 we seated ourselves by the sea, in the. crevice of a rock 
 that the cliffs overhung ; and there, with the waves dash 
 ing at our feet, we enjoyed the full beauty of the scene. 
 Said I, 
 
 * In such a night as this, 
 When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, 
 And they did make no noise ; in such a night, 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEKS. 67 
 
 Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, 
 And sighed his soul towards the Grecian tents, 
 Where Cressid lay that night. " 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, said my wife, looking round a projecting 
 angle of the rock ; e are you smoking again ? 
 
 11 She disappeared as she spoke, and we sauntered along 
 the sands, throwing pebbles into the water that almost 
 laved our feet, as happy as children, and innocent as the 
 babes in the wood. We stood in the shadows and looked 
 out upon the sea, heaving, like our own hearts, with emo 
 tion, and looked into each other s eyes, tender with mel 
 low light, and we sighed, It might have been/ Her 
 thoughts, perhaps, were with the deceased Thompson 
 where were mine ? 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! said my wife. Mrs. Thompson s hand 
 slipped from my arm, the sea rolled away, bearing her off 
 on its breast, the rocks settled to a grave, the moonlight 
 grew opaque, and a passing sea-fowl gave me a smart rap 
 on the ear. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! said my wife, wake up/ 
 
 " Has the boat gone ? said I, starting from my seat at 
 the table where I had dozed: where s Hodges and the 
 widow Thompson ? 
 
 " Who ? said my wife, in a tone that made the rims of 
 my hat curl up as I put it on my head. ( WHO ? 
 
 " Nothing, my dear, nothing, 7 replied I ; it was a 
 dream, that s all ; and half of life is but little better. 7 
 
 " We didn t go on the excursion. Tis wonderful how 
 much that bust of Pallas looks like Mrs. Thompson." 
 
 Said we, "Blifkins, you are in a bad way. Drink 
 cooling fluids, eat no meat, abstain from stimulants. The 
 dream of Mrs. Thompson is but the residuum of bad fan 
 cies, and the sooner you are rid of them the better." 
 
68 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XI. 
 
 BLIFKINS S SILVER WEDDING. 
 
 "BLIFKIXS," said my wife, u we have been married twen 
 ty-one years to-day, and you have never manifested by any 
 demonstration, on the returning anniversary, that you were 
 sensible of the blessing you enjoy. Now I propose that 
 we celebrate our silver wedding." 
 
 "Very well, my dear," replied I, "have it your own 
 way ; only it strikes me that the twenty-fifth anniversary is 
 the one that is usually remembered as the silver wedding/ 7 
 
 " That is just the way with you," said my wife, bursting 
 into tears, and showing evident signs of temper, which, I 
 am sorry to say, have increased somewhat of late ; " that s 
 just the way with you." 
 
 I told my wife that I was not sensible of any particular 
 " way " in the premises, and begged that estimable woman 
 to explain what she meant ; indeed, I am not certain that 
 I did not use the- words, " what in thunder " she meant, as 
 I frequently hear them used to strengthen our idiom, some 
 what deficient in emphatic terms. She condescended to 
 inform me that I had, by leaving it to her in the first place, 
 manifested my indifference, and in the second had de 
 stroyed her anticipations by mentioning the fact of the 
 twenty -five years custom ; as though only four years made 
 any difference ; as though twenty-one years of our wedded 
 life had not been fully equal to twenty-five of that of any 
 body else. 
 
 " Equal to forty, my love," I interposed, " of some." 
 My wife looked at me inquiringly. " Reckoning the time 
 by happiness," I quickly added, to save the domestic bark 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 69 
 
 from going over on its beam-ends. I explained to my 
 wife that leaving the matter to her was another proof of 
 my confidence in her wisdom that twenty-one years had 
 not shaken. 
 
 " Then/ said she, " Blifkins, we will celebrate our silver 
 wedding to-day ; because life is very uncertain, and we 
 don t know what may happen." 
 
 " Very well," said I ; " go ahead." 
 
 I went home at night a little later than usual, and was 
 agreeably surprised to find my wife s mother, and my wife s 
 three sisters, and my wife s two maiden aunts, assembled, 
 all dressed in their best " bib and tucker." I essayed to 
 look cheerful ; but as I entered I felt that I was regarded 
 as an offender. My wife was dressed- in her black silk, a 
 sure augury of trouble, for that -black silk ever has been as 
 significant to me of disaster as the black cap of a chief 
 justice, assumed while pronouncing sentence of death. 
 
 " How d do ? Glad to see you ! " I shouted, and at 
 tempted to kiss the sisters, who appeared to be as rigid as 
 those damsels mentioned in Tennyson s " Princess," offer 
 ing no resistance, but caring nothing about it. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, " if you had been as ener 
 getic in your motions while walking as you are in your 
 rudeness now, you would have been at home sooner. We 
 can judge of a man s interest by the manner in which he 
 moves. Anybody else would have been home an hour 
 sooner than usual on such a happy occasion." 
 
 "My dear old wife," said I, attempting a -mollifying ex 
 pedient that had at other times proved successful, " be 
 reasonable " 
 
 " Yes," she broke in, " that is just your waj^. I am the 
 unreasonable one of course ; / cause all the trouble ; / am 
 to blame for every thing ; and as for being your old wife, 
 were I younger perhaps you would treat me differently." 
 
70 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 I attempted a coup de grace by kissing her, as she was 
 taking a loaf of cake from the oven. She held it towards 
 me to prevent my approach, and I gave it a warm embrace, 
 which it as warmly returned. I uttered my feelings with 
 a degree of vehemence that might have answered to ex 
 press the concentrated spite restrained for twenty-one 
 years. My wife screamed, and the whole party rose to 
 their feet, and held up their hands in horror at the atroci 
 ty. In vain I strove to laugh it off the mother-in-law 
 and the maiden aunts came over my spirits like a cold pack 
 in January. The sisters simmered a little, but their laugh 
 sounded to my perturbed spirit like the rustle of a chick 
 en s feathers trembling at the appearance of a hen-hawk. 
 I subsided into silence, and read the evening paper. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins," said rny mother-in-law, abruptly, in a 
 tone that made me start to my feet as though I had been 
 shot, " you ought to feel happy at the return of this joy 
 ful day." 
 
 " Happy ?" I repeated, my mind dwelling on the doings 
 of the broker s board; "discount ninety-five per cent, sales 
 moderate." 
 
 " How ? " she repeated, sharply. 
 
 " Very happy," I said, correcting myself, and putting a 
 jolly emphasis on the very, relapsing into the brokers 
 board again. 
 
 " And I dare say you properly value the treasure you 
 have in your wife ! " said one of the maiden aunts, sol 
 emnly. 
 
 "Value declining ; four and a half, dividend off," I said, 
 thinking of Erie, and my two shares that I had bought on 
 speculation. 
 
 " How ? " she queried in her turn. 
 
 " Most assuredly," replied I, in a tone that testified my 
 proper valuation of the treasure. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 71 
 
 " And you would probably take the same step if you 
 could live your life over ? " queried one of the sisters. 
 
 "Buyers positively decline purchasing," said I, reading 
 a line relating to a class of fancy stocks. 
 
 " How?" aske d the sister, not hearing distinctly. 
 
 " Certainly I would ; of course," I said, redeeming my 
 imperilled reputation by my earnestness. 
 
 .The children came rushing in, and in a few moments I 
 forgot my momentary annoyance. The whole thirteen 
 have a natural taste for music ; and while Juliana, my 
 eldest, who is nineteen, and is courted by a long-limbed 
 young gentleman in the city, played the piano, the others 
 engaged in a pleasant little dance, till the tea bell sounded, 
 when we repaired to the dining-room, where Mrs. Blifkins 
 had prepared our little repast. Every thing was com 
 memorative of the event. There were twenty-one plates 
 upon the table, twenty-one cups and saucers, twenty-one 
 spoons, twenty-one knives and forks, twenty-one slices of 
 bread, and twenty-one pieces of pie. 
 
 " Sit down and eat," said I, " in welcome at our table." 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, " check your exuberance, 
 please, and act more like the head of a family of twenty- 
 one years standing. Pay a little attention to your guests, 
 do. You don t seem to have any more idea of waiting 
 upon a table than nothing at all." 
 
 It was an old comparison of hers, though perhaps it 
 mi glit be objected to on the ground of grammatical im 
 propriety. I immediately did the honors in my most ap 
 proved manner. 
 
 u What were your emotions twenty-one years ago this 
 minute ? " said my mother-in-law, stirring her tea. 
 
 " To the nearest of my recollection," said I, " I had just 
 smoked a bad cigar, and my emotions were any thing but 
 agreeable." 
 
72 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOBK. 
 
 "How unfeeling!" was echoed around the circle. 
 
 My wife didn t look altogether so amiable, I thought, as 
 she had twenty-one years before. The supper came to an 
 end, and all adjourned to the parlor. I went slyly down 
 stairs, and brought up a couple of silver-necked bottles, and 
 held them behind me. "I can," said I, "call spirits from 
 "the vasty deep." 
 
 " Can you? " said one of the aunts; "then you must be 
 a mejuin." 
 
 " Certainly I am," replied I ; " come up here, my spirits, 
 and let us keep our spirits up by putting spirits down." 
 
 I produced the bottles, and one of the circle said, " He is 
 sich a man ! " 
 
 "Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, "think of the example you 
 are setting your children." 
 
 " I ll think of it, my dear," said I, cutting the wire. Pop ! 
 went the cork, followed by a discharge that flew all over 
 mother-in-law s silk dress. 
 
 " Pray be careful, Mr. Blifkins," said my Tvife. 
 
 " Ladies," said I, " allow me to fill your glasses for a 
 toast: The State of Matrimony of which we to-day 
 have become citizens through a twenty-one years 7 residence 
 may it always be the brightest star in the union." 
 
 The toast was drank, and Juliana played, at my mother- 
 in-law s request, " Meddelsome s Wedding March." 
 
 Said I, " Ladies, I am not a poet, but I have been en 
 deavoring to write something to-day expressive of my feel 
 ings for this great occasion I may say the anniversary 
 of the greatest occasion of my life. It is the excuse that 
 I have to offer for my tardiness." My wife looked amia 
 ble then. "If you will listen I will read what I have writ 
 ten." I then proceeded, with my usual excellence of tone 
 and gesture, that always win applause at the club, to read 
 the following : 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 73 
 
 MY TWENTY-FIRST WEDDING DAY. 
 
 Twenty-one years ! and it weren t at all strange 
 
 If in that time had happened many a change j 
 
 The jolly young boy, in waist but a span, 
 
 Is now a married and corpulent man ; 
 
 And my wife, then a damsel so tender and shy, 
 
 Is as fat as a seal, and equally spry. 
 
 I ve sown my wild oats ; I ve cut all the crew 
 With whom in my youth I put matters through ; 
 I gave up cigars as a tribute to love, 
 And punch, that I prized all comforts above ; 
 I have put all pleasures of old under ban, 
 Determined to live like a true married man. 
 
 "With my children around me, my wife by my side, 
 Who s as dear to me now as when first my bride , 
 I envy not those who are soaking their clay, 
 Or are burning their lives in tobacco away, 
 Content to remain here just as I am, 
 As happy as is at high water a clam. 
 
 Let fate do its best, or its worst, as it may ; 
 All luck is but accident, just, of a day ; 
 The good and the bad, the sorrows and joys, 
 Are nothing at all but trifles and toys ; 
 I ll sit at my ingle, and say, as they fly, 
 I m watching the harvest to come by and by. 
 
 "Mr. Blifkins," said my wife, in a severe spirit of criti 
 cism, clouding up again, "hadn t you better specify that it 
 is the anniversary of the Twenty-First Wedding Day, be- 
 
74 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 cause unborn generations, who may read it, may suppose 
 you was married twenty-one times, which is not to i>e sup 
 posed of any man." 
 
 I accepted the amendment, when she submitted that 
 likening her to a seal was not very complimentary, and 
 as for her being fat, she weighed but one hundred and 
 eighty! 
 
 Tbe evening passed very pleasantly. The champagne 
 did the business. Before we parted, my mother-in-law 
 embraced me, and avowed for the thousandth time that 
 no one could have a better son-in-law ; the maiden aunts 
 were tractable, and the sisters stood still, like sensible girls, 
 to be kissed ; and thus ended my Silver Wedding. 
 
 XII. 
 BLIFKINS THE BACCHANAL . 
 
 " Do I look like a debauchee ? " said Blifkins, as he came 
 in the morning after the He-union of the Jollibo}^ at Par 
 ker s. We told him that we didn t think he did. We 
 turned him round to the light, so that we could look into 
 his eyes. They were as clear as a bell, and as full of laugh 
 as an egg is full of meat. 
 
 " Why do you ask ? " we said, as he sat down on the dam 
 ask lounge in our back room, in front of the great mirror 
 that had in the early days of the republic reflected the fea 
 tures of the Father of his Country. He looked up, with 
 a very roguish expression, as he said, " Mrs. Blifkins," 
 and broke out with a laugh thsjt shook things. We took 
 another look at him, to ascertain if our first impression 
 wore not wrong, for it seemed to us that a sober man 
 would not have acted thus. He cooled down, and then 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEES. 75 
 
 again attempted to explain the reason for his mirth. Af 
 ter several commencements he managed to tell his story. 
 
 " Mrs. Blifkins will have it that I was tight " said he, 
 " though tl>ere isn t a Jolliboy that will not say I was 
 right as a trivet. It was about three when I got home, 
 and when I unlocked the door there stood Mrs. Blifkins 
 in a spirit of patience, and a long flannel bed-gown, waiting 
 for me. 
 
 " So you ve come/ said she, as I entered. 
 
 "I assured her that such was the fact, and asked her if 
 she wasn t afraid that getting up so early would be injuri 
 ous to her health. Whereupon she informed me that her 
 health was the last thing I cared for that no man who 
 cared for his wife s health would expose her to the danger 
 of sitting up till three o clock in the morning, and he away 
 indulging in dissipation. 
 
 " But/ said I, f my dear, there was no need of your sit 
 ting up. I was fully competent to take care of myself. I 
 have that prudent regard for myself that never leads me 
 over the bounds of sobriety, and to-night, in particular, I 
 am wonderfully correct. 7 
 
 " I attempted to salute her, but she drew back with a con 
 temptuous and deprecating Faugh! as though she de 
 tected odors of bacchanalian haunts in my breath. But I 
 saw that a change was coming over her face, and she im 
 mediately assumed the patronizing and sympathetic. 
 
 " Come, Mr. Blifkins/ said she; you had better go to 
 bed, and sleep it off. Your head will ache fearfully in the 
 morning, and serve you right, because a man with a fami 
 ly ought to know better than to make such a brute of him 
 self. 
 
 " But, my dear/ said I, interrupting her, e I assure you 
 your fears are groundless. See me walk that seam in the 
 carpet. 7 
 
76 PAUTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " I attempted it ; but I stepped on a confounded marble 
 that one of the children had dropped on the floor, and 
 came nigh falling down. 
 
 " I knew so/ she sighed ; what a pity ! But I am used 
 to it. I am glad the children are not up to witness their 
 father s disgrace little dears/ 
 
 " But I m not/ cried I, trying to save my credit. 
 
 " Don t say another word/ said she : * go to bed, an^l 
 sleep it off. 
 
 " I made no further parley, but walked up stairs, and in 
 five minutes was enjoying the sleep that only the innocent 
 know. When I awoke in the morning, Mrs. Blifkins was 
 standing over me with the most severely virtuous face I 
 ever knew her to wear. 
 
 " Well/ said she, e I dare say your head aches finely this 
 morning good enough for you, and all such as indulge 
 in such practices. 
 
 " Nary a headache/ said I, sitting up in bed ; never 
 felt better in my life. Give us a cup of chocolate, and I 
 will soon join you. 
 
 " Chocolate ! said she ; ( chocolate after a debauch ! 
 You mean a cup of strong tea/ 
 
 " I thought of Mrs. Joe Gargery s tar water, and said no 
 more. She was determined, I saw, that I was an exam 
 ple/ although I assure you, on my word as a member of 
 the Association for the Promotion of Universal Good, that 
 I was as straight as a die. Isn t it strange ? " 
 
 We assured Blifkins that the saying, " Once a rogue, al 
 ways suspected/ applied to him, and that he ought to be 
 grateful for the never-tiring interest thus disposed to watch 
 over his unguardedness j but he didn t see it. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 77 
 
 XIII. 
 BLIFKINS THE HORTICULTURIST. 
 
 IT may not. be very generally known that Mr. Blifkins 
 has bought him a new house lately, on a new street ; and 
 since he came in possession of it he has devoted himself 
 to deep thought, and taken counsel of others, regarding 
 the improvement of his "grounds," as he terms the en 
 closure that forms his lot. He had a high respect for hor 
 ticulture from early associations, had, indeed, while a 
 mere boy in the country, raised considerable fruit, much 
 to the surprise of his friends as to how he came by it, 
 and he determined to devote this spot to horticultural pur 
 poses, looking forward to the time when he should be able 
 to sit under his own vine and eat his own fig tree. 
 
 Friends advised this, that, and the other, each one elo 
 quently advocating his particular plan as the best to beau 
 tify and benefit. One advocated flowers, another favored 
 arboriculture, another dwelt on the beauty of a lawn, 
 another gave conclusive arguments in favor of a green 
 house. 
 
 " Why, any one can see, with half an eye," said Mrs. 
 Blifkins, " that it is beautiful for pears ; but I don t sup 
 pose my advice is worth any thing, as it is never asked." 
 
 " Your advice is excellent, my dear," said Blifkins, rap- 
 tuously; " never was man blessed with so wise and sweet 
 a counsellor : a perfect Solomon in petticoats." 
 
 This last was uttered as an " aside," it being regarded a 
 precarious venture. 
 
 Full of his idea of stocking his place with pears, he im- 
 
78 PA-KTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 mediately visited all the nurseries in the vicinity, to con 
 sult catalogues in order to get the best varieties. It was 
 a severe tax upon his time, but he resolved to get the best. 
 He saw many scores of names that he didn t understand, 
 for which he felt a profound respect ; and of those he se 
 lected a half dozen with the most formidable and unintelli 
 gible titles, assured that he had got just the thing. The 
 trees looked thrifty, the green just coming out his own 
 case he thought and engaging an Irish gardener " born 
 wid a shpade in his fist," as he averred he soon saw the 
 trees transferred to his grounds, sods beautifully plastered 
 over the bare patches, and the place really assumed the 
 look of cultivation. But, alas ! the chill winds did not 
 agree with the tender trees ; the cool air and the heat of 
 the sun, acting in opposition, killed the shoots between 
 them, as Mr. Pickwick came nigh being overwhelmed be 
 tween the two belligerent editors. 
 
 " You ve got a glorious place there for a grape vine," 
 said Mr. Planit, his neighbor, looking over the dividing line 
 between the two lots j " twill fit over that balustrade 
 splendidly." 
 
 " Twill shut out the sun," said Mrs. Blifkins, overhear 
 ing the remark. 
 
 "Not a bit of it, my dear madam," replied he, "more 
 than is agreeable ; a grape vine is just like a child train 
 it up, and away it goes." 
 
 Mrs. Blif kins did not take very strong ground in opposi 
 tion, though she afterwards mentioned to Blifkins private 
 ly that she thought Mr. Planit had a great deal of pre 
 sumption in recommending it; that some folks impu 
 dence led them a great ways in meddling with other folks 
 business. 
 
 " Why," said the neighbor, taking up the thread of his 
 remark regarding the vine, " the first year you ll have at 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 79 
 
 least a bushel ; next year, two ; and in five years you ll 
 have grapes enough to supply the town." 
 
 Even Mrs. Blifkins melted before this delicious argu 
 ment, and the vine was decided upon. 
 
 Blifkins immediately visited Sweetwater, the gardener, 
 who had vines to sell. 
 
 "There," said Sweetwater, holding up a piece of stick 
 about as big as a lead pencil ; " there s a grape, now, that 
 I can recommend ; a choice kind ; a hybrid betwixt a Je 
 rusalem Pucker and a Huckleberry Twist ; berries as 
 big as grape shot, sweet as sirup, and three weeks earlier 
 than any other variety." 
 
 "But that s dead isn t it?" said Blifkins, touching the 
 twig suspiciously. 
 
 " Dead ! bless your soul, no ! " he replied ; " do you see 
 that?" pointing to a rough spot on the bark; "that s a 
 fruit bud, and that, and that," pointing to other rough 
 places : " tis one of the most healthy vines I ve got. 
 Plant it, and it will grow like Jonah s gourd." 
 
 Blifkins bought it, took it home, and prepared to plant it. 
 
 "You re not going to plant it yourself?" said PJanit, 
 putting his head up on the top of the fence. 
 
 Blifkins thought he should. 
 
 "You d better get a gardener to do it, begin right, 
 and always right ; a good grape will pay for all care." 
 
 So Blifkins went to the original " Shpade," and, enga 
 ging him to plant the vine, proceeded quietly to his busi 
 ness. About an hour after, while employed in some par 
 ticular matter, an Irish head, hatless, protruded through 
 his door, and the body of his friend " Shpade " appeared 
 soon after. 
 
 " Plase, sir," said he, "if yez haven t got any bones, 
 and bones is allers best, it ud want about two loads of 
 manure, yer honor." 
 
80 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " What docs ! " cried Blifkins, in amazement. 
 
 " The grape vine, sir," said Spade. 
 
 "The deuse!" replied Blifkins; "well, go to Drury and 
 get what you want, and send the bill to me." 
 
 Off went Spade, and Blifkins resumed his business till 
 dinner time, going home then to witness the progress of 
 his horticultural experiment. He could see nothing of 
 Spade. An immense heap of dirt lay before him, while 
 on one side was a black and offensive pile as high as his 
 head. 
 
 " A pretty piece of work you ve made of it ! " said Mrs. 
 Blifkins, thrusting her head out of a window over the bal 
 cony, and drawing it in again, as if offended with the odor. 
 
 "I think so," said Blifkins. " Where s Spade? 
 Spade ! " 
 
 " Here, yer honor," responded a voice the other side of the 
 heap, as though it came out of a grave ; and at that instant 
 a shovelful of earth fell at his feet. He climbed up on the 
 pile, and beheld the original digger delving like a gopher 
 at the bottom of a huge hole, as earnestly as though he 
 were working a new mine, and was anxious to get enough 
 specimens together to secure it a place on the list at the 
 brokers board. 
 
 "What in the name of Moses are you doing?" said Blif 
 kins, in some heat. 
 
 "Making the bed for the vine, sir," said Spade, wiping 
 his forehead. 
 
 Blifkins took the vine in his fingers it hadn t grown 
 an inch looked at the hole, and the heap of manure, and 
 the Irishman, and then went into the house to look at Mr. 
 Blifkins. 
 
 To say that that estimable woman was disturbed would 
 not be exaggerating the fact. She was. She had in her 
 mind s eye imagined an umbrageous growth of green, that 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 81 
 
 at the very outset would flourish she was too impatient 
 to wait for ordinary results. But she had the good sense 
 to see that Blifkins was troubled, and simply remarking 
 tli at he. might have known it would be so, and if he had 
 taken her advice, which she never expected him to do, 
 it would have been different, he ate his dinner in silence, 
 going down town thereafter as quietly as possible. On 
 going home at night he found the planting completed. The 
 sward was blackened by the fouling dirt ; but there was the 
 lead pencil planted, come what might of it, and done, too, 
 as Mr. Planit had advised, thoroughly. 
 
 The next day the Irish head appeared again, the body 
 immediately after, and Mr. Spade presented the following 
 little bill : 
 
 " Misther Bliff kens to Mich. Spade dether, 
 
 To too lodes manoor, witch it is pade fur meeslf out ov 
 
 my one pokit, not wishen to trubble a gintleman . . $6.00 
 To doin bed for graipe vyne . 5.50 
 
 Tottle, $11.50 
 
 Receept pay, MICH. SPADE." 
 
 Blifkins paid the bill, thinking all the while he had been 
 more thoroughly " done " than the vine. 
 
 XIV. 
 BLIFKINS THE LINGUIST. 
 
 WE had not met Blifkins for some time, and were much 
 pleased to see his round, good-humored face thrust through 
 an opening in the door, and to hear his voice salute us with 
 its old-time sincerity of tone, for there is the genuine ring 
 of honesty in his " How are ye ? " which, though not mean- 
 
82 PAET1NGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 ing any thing in particular, always gives us a pleasure to 
 hear it. He came in. and seated himself, hung his hat on 
 the antlered tree that graces our sanctorum, and knocking 
 the ashes from his cigar, he began to speak of the news. 
 We asked him where he had kept himself, and he said he 
 had been engaged in a little speculation that had taken 
 him from the city. He had been travelling, he said ; had 
 explored oil-wells and coal-mines, Tiad made a thousand 
 acquaintances, and had had a big time generally. 
 
 "A queer thing happened to me last night," said he. 
 He looked funnily, as though he were internally chuckling 
 with a thought that must have expression. 
 
 " Out with it," we said, " and don t keep it, like a hen 
 looking abouf to steal a nest." 
 
 " Well," replied he, " I will not. You see my new friend 
 Spratt, of Titusville, was on here, and was engaged in a 
 little business transaction that also concerned me ; so I 
 thought I would take him round some, maugre the admo 
 nition of my wife that I had better know whom I associated 
 with, and that married men had better stay at home. I 
 accordingly took him to see Booth, and after enjoying a 
 portion of the cheerful play of Macbeth, we went out to re 
 fresh ourselves with a mouthful of fresh air, or its equiv 
 alent. We sauntered into a restaurant that looked -neat and 
 cheerful, and getting seated comfortably, I proposed that we 
 should have a steak and a cup of coffee, which were ordered, 
 and we enjoyed- a half hour of pleasant converse plunged 
 into caves of coal, swam in rivers of oil, and talked our 
 selves into immense fortunes. We saw ourselves million- 
 naires, with coaches and horses ; with costly houses in town, 
 and summer villas in the country" 
 
 " The effect of the coffee ? " we queried j but he took no 
 note of it. 
 
 "And so on, till the time of leaving arrived, when I 
 
THE BLIEKINS PAPERS. 83 
 
 arose and stepped to the counter to settle the bill, throw 
 ing down a two dollar greenback. The gentleman .behind 
 the counter took the bill in his fingers, turned it over and 
 looked at its back, then turned it over again, as if to satisfy 
 himself of its genuineness, while I waited to receive my 
 change. He was, I saw, a French gentleman that was 
 waiting upon me, or, rather, upon whom I was waiting, and 
 I said to him in as good French as I could muster, 
 
 " Pardonnez moi ; I wantez mon chango. 
 
 "I saw that he looked at me somewhat surprised, as if 
 he hadn t expected me to speak in his native vermicular/ 
 but made no sign of paying me. 
 
 " Monsieur, 7 said I, etes-vous Francais and avez-vous 
 de postage currency ? ? 
 
 " N importe/ replied he, shrugging his shoulders, beau- 
 coup de postage-stamps ! 
 
 " I felt my indignation rising. 
 
 " I demandez de 7 echange/ said I. 
 
 " t Four dolliar and a quartier/ said he, tapping the bill 
 of fare. 
 
 " What ! 7 said I, in a surprised roar. 
 
 " Morbleu! 7 said he, in a manner considerably excited, 
 running his finger down the bill of fare ; four dolliar and 
 a quartier ; biftek, pommes de terre, pain, moutard, pot 
 pourri, beurre, etc. Four dolliar and a quartier, messieu. 7 
 
 "I remembered that there had been certain patches 
 upon the table of minute proportions, and not wishing to 
 appear small before my guest, I handed him three dollars 
 more. 
 
 " Ah/ said he, where was I thought? bigar, I forgot 
 ze cafe noir. It is four feefty, messieu. 7 
 
 " { Well, well/ I replied, now speaking in my mother 
 tongue, for indignation rather overcame my French man 
 ners, give me back my change, and be hanged to you; 
 
84 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 for if you read that bill of fare again, you will take every 
 cent I ve got in the world. 
 
 "He grinned as he gave it me, and said, in very excel 
 lent English, That s so. 7 
 
 " I ve found out since that he was born in Vermont, and 
 wasn t any Frenchman at all. 
 
 " When I got home I had to take a severe lecture from 
 Mrs. Blifkins on the loose habits of the times, who re 
 peated, what I had become rather accustomed to, that all 
 men who were heads of families should be at home even 
 ings, and not be gallivanting round with this or that per 
 son, or going to places, where, perhaps, their wives might 
 not follow them. I dropped to sleep right in the middle 
 of her lecture ; but it kept oil buzzing in my ear till, in my 
 sleeping fancy, I conceived myself tormented by a swarm 
 of blue-bottled flies, that flew round and round me with a 
 fearful din, from which I could not escape ; that after 
 being subjected to it for a year, I w r as relieved by a 
 tornado that swept them all into the sea. I waked up as 
 the clock struck twelve, having been to sleep but fifteen 
 minutes, while Mrs. B. was snoring vehemently by my 
 side." 
 
 This was Blifkins s story. Not much of a story, either, 
 to those who see more of the world ; but Benjamin Blifkins, 
 the domestic and patient, makes a mountain of such little 
 episodes, and it delights us to listen to them. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 85 
 
 
 
 XV. 
 BLIFKINS S DOG SAILOR BOY. 
 
 ABOUT a month after lie had bought the dog Sailor Boy, 
 and the remembrance of the fifteen dollars he had paid for 
 him had mellowed into an indistinct idea of a rather profit 
 able investment, Blifkins went home one day in a very 
 happy frame of mind. Pie had that morning made a suc 
 cessful speculation, and had, by a most delightful accident, 
 found company in the car up town that had smoothed the 
 wrinkles completely out of his temper, rendering his feel 
 ings as beatific as they were susceptible of being. He 
 applied his latch-key, humming, "Ever be Happy," and 
 entered his door with a bound. He was met by the chill 
 that one at times feels when the wind comes round sudden 
 ly east on a warm day a sort of home atmosphere that 
 the over-ardent will at times encounter, providentially to 
 save them from a too exuberant state of feeling. 
 
 "What s the matter, my love ?" said he, as he saw Mrs. 
 Blifkins coming towards him from the darkened side of 
 the hall. " Any good news to tell me ? You are looking 
 remarkably pleasant." 
 
 He spoke at random, for he could not see distinctly how 
 she looked ; but he felt that trouble was brewing for him 
 conscience jogging his memory regarding his recent 
 contraband mile of enjoyment in the omnibus with one 
 whose name, in that precinct, would be a signal for an 
 immediate storm. He felt timid lest some winged spirit 
 of the air had anticipated his arrival, and had revealed his 
 innocent delinquency, as Mrs. Blifkins came out into the 
 brighter light, and he saw her face red and hot, looking as 
 
86 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 though she had been assisting the cook in frying dough 
 nuts. It is bad when the happiness of one is the bane of 
 another, and harmless indulgences are concealed from 
 either through dread of a. scene a prudential measure 
 rendered necessary, but which is to be deprecated, never 
 theless ; and Blifkins, from being one of the most in 
 genuous men in the world, had become so close, that he hesi 
 tated about telling Mrs. B. what o clock it was, when asked, 
 for fear it might involve the necessity of an explanation. 
 
 " If I look very pleasant, I don t feel so," said she, with 
 a slight degree of tartar in her tone. 
 
 " Just as I feared," Blifkins thought to himself, but 
 mustered courage enough to repeat his question, "What is 
 the matter ? " 
 
 " I have been afraid all along that that dog would cause 
 us trouble ; and now it has come just through your per 
 sistence in keeping the brute." 
 
 His persistence ! This, when he remembered one weary 
 day s search for him, through her own wish to have the 
 dog found after he -had turned him out of doors. It was 
 provoking, but Benjamin Blifkins had long ago taken a posi 
 tion on principle that he would not be disturbed in temper 
 by man or woman ; and should he now abandon a principle 
 so well maintained on account of a woman and a fifteen- 
 dollar dog V No ; forbid it, consistency ! 
 
 "Get out, you good-for-nothing dog!" cried Mrs. Blif 
 kins, vehemently, much to his surprise, imagining the re 
 mark made to himself; but following the direction of her 
 eye, he saw " Sailor Boy " at the head of the stairs, wag 
 ging his tail violently, with a very curious expression of 
 countenance, as if of half fun and half fear, but not 
 daring to come down. As Blifkins caught his eye, he 
 rubbed his nose with his paw, very intelligently, looked 
 significantly at Mrs. Blifkins, and disappeared. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 87 
 
 "What s the matter ? " said Blifkins, for the third time. 
 
 " Frederick Augustus ! " she cried, naming the youngest 
 boy, "come down here and show your papa what the 
 naughty dog has done ! " 
 
 The boy came when called, with his forehead bound 
 round with a handkerchief. 
 
 " Show papa where the dog hurt you ; but I suppose he 
 wouldn t care if we were all killed by the worthless brute. 
 Dear, dear,, what cares a mother has ! I don t know what 
 would become of the children if it wasn t for mothers ! " 
 
 This was uttered with a half sob, as Frederick Augustus 
 unbound his head, and revealed, beneatli the customary 
 brown paper and rum, a dark bruise upon the forehead as 
 big as a dime. 
 
 " There, that s what your beautiful dog did," said Mrs. 
 Blifkins, in atone of triumph, as though she were delighted 
 with the prospect ; " and it is a mercy, I am sure, that his 
 skull was not crushed and his brains spread all about the 
 floor." . 
 
 Blifkins looked at the contusion, and heard the agony 
 culminate with wonderful equanimity, almost justifying Mrs. 
 Blifkins s charge of indifference. He saw that no great 
 harm had been done, because the boy s appetite had not 
 failed him, as he was then engaged upon an extensive un 
 dertaking of bread and butter, a sharpener of his appetite 
 for dinner. 
 
 " How did he hurt you, Bub ? " said Blifkins, stooping 
 down and parting his hair. 
 
 " Frowed me down stairs," replied Frederick Augustus, 
 blowing a cloud of crumbs upon his patera al s shirt bosom. 
 
 This charge looked serious, and casting his eyes up he 
 saw that Sailor Boy had returned, and was lying at the 
 head of the stairs, with his head stretched out upon his 
 paws, the picture of innocence, as if listening to the testi- 
 
88 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 mony against his character that was being heard in the 
 " court below." 
 
 " Tell papa how it was," said Blifkins, coaxingly. 
 
 " Ride on Sailor Boy s back fall down," was the reply, 
 making an angry gesture towards the dog with his fist, as 
 big as a cent apple. 
 
 " Tis wonderful how that child resembles its mother," 
 thought Blifkins, as he saw the expression on the boy s 
 face. He learned from this that in an insane attempt to 
 ride Sailor Boy down stairs, he had been thrown, and say 
 ing he was glad it was no worse, proposed they should go 
 to dinner. 
 
 "I don t see how you can think of dinner at such a 
 time ; but that is just so inconsiderate as men are. Din 
 ner, indeed, and that dear blessed boy escaping eternity by 
 a quarter of an inch. Such unfeelingness ! " 
 
 But an odor of good things filled the air, as if, while 
 denying him the privilege of thinking about dinner, her 
 thought had been busy in that direction, and the promise 
 made to the olfactories was not broken to the taste. Mrs. 
 Blifkins as a cook is not surpassed. Sailor Boy feeling 
 some doubts as to his status, from the remembrance of an 
 application of Blifkins s Malacca cane in punishment for 
 his offence, prudently kept out of the way. 
 
 Mrs. Blifkins has told us twenty times what a wonder 
 fully sagacious dog Sailor Boy was ; and well she might 
 admit it. Among the evidences of his sagacity was a 
 thorough understanding of her various moods. He 
 knew when the domestic breeze was east, and no ba 
 rometer could more plainly demonstrate the atmospheric 
 changes of home than his demeanor. It is true he had 
 literally had this " beat into him ; " but it required only a 
 few applications of the foot, or of such weapon as chanced 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEBS. 89 
 
 to be handy, to convince him of the necessity of watchful 
 ness. 
 
 Having a very social disposition, Sailor Boy attracted 
 quite a coterie of dogs to the Blifkins neighborhood; and, 
 being desirous of showing them hospitalities, they were 
 always welcomed by him in the back yard, to the great 
 delight of the children, who rummaged all the closets for 
 cold victuals, and nearly ruined Blifkins by their attacks 
 on his larder, rendering quite impossible that hope of an 
 economical household, a " picked-up dinner." The unfor 
 tunate beggar woman, who for a long time had come twice 
 a week to get the odds and ends, withdrew her patronage 
 in disgust because of the insufficient supply, much to the 
 delight of Sailor Boy and his friends, who escorted her 
 to the gate and barked their adieus, one of them retaining 
 a shred of her ragged shawl as a memento. The coterie 
 at last was broken up by the cook, who poured a skillet of 
 hot water upon one of the dogs, who had ventured into 
 the kitchen, and was helping himself to a veal cutlet. 
 They found they were getting into hot water, and left. 
 
 Professor Agassiz couldn t have a better illustration of 
 reason in dogs than that displayed by Sailor Boy. He 
 reasons from principles ; cause and effect are duly consid 
 ered by him. This latter was proved in the case of his 
 treatment of Blifkins s butcher s boy. Seeing the boy in 
 the butcher s shop was prima facie evidence to Sailor Boy 
 that he was good to eat ; therefore, whenever he comes to 
 the house, S. B. is sure to have a nip at him. The boy, by 
 a judicious application of his brogans, endeavors to dispel 
 this illusion, but as yet unsuccessfully. He is, besides, an 
 amateur in music, as is manifest whenever a hand organ 
 performs near the Blifkins mansion. Sailor Boy, at such 
 times, will sing so furious an accompaniment to the strain, 
 that the teeth of the whole neighborhood will be set on 
 8* 
 
90 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 edge thereby superstitious people, and those with no ear 
 for music, regarding it as howling. Mrs. Blifkins averred 
 that the harmony with the organ was perfect, and that the 
 one who turned the crank was so jealous of the dog that he 
 swore a fearful oath at him in Italian, and tried to kick 
 him. 
 
 His hospitality was exemplified one day in a remarkable 
 manner. He had made the acquaintance of a respectable 
 dog in the neighborhood who was accustomed to run in on 
 an occasional visit. One day he came in as Sailor Boy 
 was discussing a savory bone, who with a growl seized the 
 bone and ran with it to the dog-house Blifkins had built in 
 his shed. A moment after he seemed to say to himself, 
 "Well, this is rather small business for a fifteen-dollar 
 dog ; " and, coming out, he laid the bone at the feet of his 
 visitor, wagged his tail as if inviting him to fall to, which 
 he did, to Sailor Boy s great delight. 
 
 He is a constant companion of all the boys in the neigh 
 borhood, taking part in their games, and is as big a boy as 
 any of them. Indeed, all idea of race seems to be over 
 looked by all parties, and whether they are all dogs or all 
 boys, when pursuing their play, it would be hard for either 
 of them to say. It was a marvel to see him one day 
 gravely sitting contemplating a game of marbles, and ap 
 pearing very angry when he saw one of the boys trying to 
 cheat. 
 
 " Well," said Blifkins, pushing his chair back from the 
 table, " then Sailor Boy must go ; such a trick as this to-day 
 never can be excused endangering the peace of my dear 
 wife, and the lives of my precious children." 
 
 There was a blank expression on the faces of the chil 
 dren as he said this, and Mrs. Blifkius looked troubled. 
 At this moment Sailor Boy came into the dining-room, as 
 
THE BLIFKIKS PAPERS. 91 
 
 though he had been listening outside. There was a mel 
 ancholy droop in his tail, and a general air of penitence in 
 his whole demeanor. 
 
 " Yes, you bad man s dog," continued Blifkins, address 
 ing him ; " a stop must be put to this, sure, and to-day ends 
 your continuance with us as a boarder. My dear," said he, 
 turning to Mrs. B., "I will send some one up for him this 
 afternoon. Poor Sailor Boy ! " 
 
 " You are in a great hurry about it, I think," said Mrs. 
 Blifkins, " but that is as reasonable as you men are. Of 
 course I didn t expect you to ask my advice about it that 
 would be out of the question." 
 
 "But my dear," replied Blifkins, tossing Sailor Boy, 
 who was having a jolly time with Frederick Augustus, 
 whom he had thrown down stairs, a cube of meat, " I cer 
 tainly understood you to express the wish to be rid of him, 
 and was willing to gratify you. He has been a cause of 
 trouble" rubbing his roguish eye "and perhaps it 
 would be as well to get rid of him. I can give him 
 away." 
 
 " Give him away ! Yes, you can give him away, I dare 
 say. But what will the children do when they go in swim 
 ming next summer, and get into deep water, if the dog isn t 
 there to pull ? em out ? They ll certainly drown ; and then 
 who will answer for it ? Not I, to be sure." 
 
 " Well, I won t give him away, then," said Blifkins, 
 " though I know somebody that will be very glad to have 
 him." 
 
 " Who ? " asked Mrs. Blifkins, with some animation. 
 
 " Mrs. Simkins," replied he, carelessly. 
 
 " Then she shall not have him," said she with warmth ; 
 " and you should be ashamed of yourself for naming her to 
 me. But I have done expecting any thing else but ill- 
 treatment and insult. 
 
92 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Blifkins put on his hat and went out, satisfied that he 
 had secured a permanent home for Sailor Boy as long as 
 he chose to live. He felt, as he went down town, that his 
 forte did not lie in merchandise, but that Nature had devel 
 oped him largely for a diplomat. 
 
 XVI. 
 BLIFKINS TAKES A STAND. 
 
 " How far does woman s sphere extend ? " said Blifkins, 
 as he paid us his customary Monday morning visit. We 
 informed him that, though it was not very definitely 
 assigned, it was generally understood to be all round. " I 
 should think so," said he, reaching over and taking a 
 match, with which he proceeded to light a cigar, and 
 puffed some time in silence, gazing upon the serene and 
 pleasant countenance of Horace Greeley that hangs upon 
 our wall. 
 
 " I can t smoke at home," he said, after a while, gently 
 knocking off the ashes. 
 
 " Why not ? " we asked, half diverted from an amusing 
 paragraph in the Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " Mrs. Blifkins doesn t smoke herself, and rather insists 
 upon it that I shall not," was the reply. 
 
 There was a tenderness in his tone that betokened an 
 aggrieved spirit. 
 
 " Won t she let you smoke ? " we asked. 
 
 " Why, icon t isn t exactly the word," he replied ; 
 " there is a qualification put in that redeems it from positive 
 prohibition ; but, after all, it amounts to the same thing. 
 The smoke, she says injures the curtains, discolors the ceil 
 ing, impregnates the clothing ; she wonders how I can 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPEES. 93 
 
 smoke, and when I would show her, she runs away, declar 
 ing I want to choke her." 
 
 We saw there was something more on the poor fellow s 
 mind, and so let it go off with the smoke without saying a 
 word to him. 
 
 " It is pretty much the same with every thing else," he 
 broke out at last. "I can t do right. My wife will be* 
 boss over every thing. I was fixing the coal-pen a day or 
 two ago, and had done, as I supposed, wonders in a me 
 chanical way, when my wife said, 
 
 " Mr. Blif kins, you should have put the boards on the 
 other way/ 
 
 "I raised my foot to kick don t start to kick the 
 pen to pieces again, but my guardian angel whispered a 
 suggestion of the folly and expense of the thing, and I re 
 frained. Why, I can t have a pair of pants or a vest made 
 without her interfering. She presumes to answer for my 
 religious faith, my social relations, and my political creed 
 to do every thing but pay my bills. Worse than all this, 
 I was shaving this morning, in a state of mind as tranquil 
 as a man can be under the sorrow of a dull razor, when my 
 wife came in. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, said she, your lather isn t good. 7 
 
 "I scraped away without speaking, though I felt the 
 irritation crawling through my veins to my very finger 
 tips. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, said she, you don t hold your razor 
 right. You ll cut off your nose some time by your care 
 lessness. 
 
 " I could contain myself no longer. 
 
 " Mrs. Blifkins/ I cried, with some heat, as the razor 
 scored a half-inch incision into my cuticle, l any thing but 
 this. You may be boss in every department of the house 
 hold, from the mending of coal-pens and sawing of wood to 
 
94 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 the blacking of boots and the hanging of clothes-lines ; but 
 here is a job that I choose to boss myself. I feel positive 
 that it is an operation quite outside of your sphere. Na 
 ture, Mrs. Blifkins, has fixed bounds here settled them 
 to a hair by depriving you of the beard that is such a 
 delightful ornament to the masculine sex ; and it is full 
 bad enough to have to take care of it without female in 
 terference. 
 
 " I was clear, decisive, firm. There was a shower of tears, 
 a volcano of reproaches, a vocabulary of expletives, of which 
 brute, often repeated, was the principal, and the scene 
 closed with Exit Blifkins." 
 
 We soothed the poor fellow by telling him that there must 
 be some drawback to felicity; that all mundane bliss had 
 its temporary offset ; and that he really was the happiest 
 fellow in existence ; for what could he do if the interest 
 thus expended on his behalf were withdrawn, and indif 
 ference substituted ? He thought of this a moment, said 
 he supposed it was all right, and, as his cigar was out, he 
 went out also. 
 
 Excellent Blifkins ! 
 
 XVII. 
 BLIFKINS THE PATRIOT. 
 
 " WE must show our colors," said Mrs. Blifkins, one 
 morning at breakfast. " We are surrounded by copper 
 heads/ and shall not be distinguished from them if we do 
 not hang out our banner." She was fiercely loyal. 
 
 Blifkins was as delighted with the prudence of Mrs. B. 
 as was Cowper s John Gilpin at the wholesome sugges 
 tions of his wife on their wedding day ; and with a prom 
 ise, on leaving, that a flag should be hoisted, and that right 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. Ui> 
 
 speedily, lie went out to secure the services of Mr. Plane, 
 the joiner, in putting up a sufficient pole for the desired 
 bunting. Mr. Blifkins thought it would not be necessary 
 to put up a pole as tall as some, though his patriotism 
 stood at the loftiest altitude ; and telling Plane to procure 
 him one of twenty-five feet, he went down town to buy a 
 flag. This was procured, a beauty, blazing with the 
 glory of thirty-six stars, and forwarded to Blifkiris s 
 residence, to await the elevation of the flag-staff, soon ex 
 pected. 
 
 Day by day passed, and Plane did not make his appear 
 ance with the desired staff; day by day did Mrs. Blifkins 
 urge upon her husband the necessity for his " seeing about 
 it ; " for she had mentioned their intention to neighbors, 
 who were expecting it, and she had overheard some boys 
 looking over their gate, speculating as to where it was to 
 be put, one mischievous little wretch saying to another, 
 " Don t you wish you may see it ! " 
 
 Upon several consultations with Plane, Blifkins was 
 told that it was "got," " finished," "gone to be painted, 7 
 " at the blacksmith s ; " and in the mean time Mrs. Blif 
 kins, with patriotic ingenuity, hung the banner in her win 
 dow, glorifying the end of the domicile that looked to 
 wards the street, leaving no doubt in the minds of passers- 
 by that all was right in that house. 
 
 " The flag-staff is up," said Mrs. Blifkins, with a voice 
 of triumph, as Blifkins came home one evening, {l and you 
 must get up early in the morning to see about putting out 
 the flag." 
 
 It was too dark for Blifkins to observe how the work 
 was done, but he could see the slender pole traced against 
 the sky, that seemed pointing among the galaxies which 
 his own bright banner was to symbolize. He hummed to 
 himself a line or two of Drake s ode, 
 
 " When Freedom ^rom her mountain height," 
 
96 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 and then went in to make preparations for a good time at 
 the consecration of the flag. He would Jiave a band of 
 music, a free lunch, and fireworks in the evening. Proba 
 bly it would get into the papers, and he would be famous. 
 Blifkins went to bed to dream of skies of red, white, and 
 blue, and Goddesses of Liberty in short skirts dancing all 
 around him, to the air of the Star-spangled Banner, played 
 by invisible bands. 
 
 Just as Blifkins fancied he had got soundly to sleep, he 
 awoke, and found it was morning. He arose, and his first 
 thought was to look out of the window at the pole which 
 proudly occupied the position in his premises, the flag on 
 which was to delight the residents of three streets. He 
 sent down to Crotchet for a dozen pieces of music, got his 
 sandwiches all ready, and at the time appointed quite a 
 crowd was present. Mrs. Blifkins, who had told her fe 
 male friends that it was the proudest day of her life, sat 
 in full view of the scene, with a coterie of admiring and 
 envious neighbors around her, as Blifkins came out bear 
 ing the bunting, which he was prepared to hoist with his 
 own hands. 
 
 Blifkins looked at the pole, looked at the flag, looked at 
 the people. He was reduced to a dilemma. He was no 
 philosopher, and he was perplexed to know how he wag to 
 get the flag up to its position. He had seen flags floating 
 from mast-heads and flag-staffs, and wondered if they were 
 nailed there. 
 
 " You must hoist it ! " screamed Mrs. Blifkins from the 
 window. 
 
 " Run it up, Blif ! " shouted a friendly voice from below. 
 
 " Up with it ! " yelled a fiendish boy on top of the wood 
 shed. 
 
 The musicians were all already with the Star-span gled 
 Banner, and the people all ready to cheer j but Blifkins 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 97 
 
 looked very red, and beckoned to a friend among the 
 crowd to come up and help him. They were seen to 
 confer a minute, then the friend burst out into a roar of 
 laughter, and Blifkins looked the picture of disappoint 
 ment. They had discovered, what nobody had observed 
 before, that Plane had neglected to reeve any halliards. 
 There was no remedy but patience, and Blifkins had had 
 his tried too severely in a twenty years married life to al 
 low it to be overcome now. His was a temper to lift man 
 over his accidents; and dismissing the band, much to the 
 disgust of the boys, he invited in his friends, and, with 
 the flag hung upon the gas chandelier over the table, 
 as good a time was enjoyed as though the thing had 
 " come off." 
 
 Plane was summoned, who received a lesson from Mrs. 
 Blifkins that made him see more stars than there are in 
 the v American constellation, and " sent down " the pole to 
 receive the proper halliards. This being done, Blifkins 
 was instructed how to hoist the nag ; and soon the proud 
 banner was seen moving heavenward with ostentatious 
 show. Nobody but a small boy was near, who shouted, 
 " Hi, hi ! " as it ran up. There was now another dilemma. 
 Plane had made the staff shorter by some five, feet than 
 that agreed upon ; and there were eddies of air playing 
 about between the buildings, antagonistic to patriotic dem 
 onstrations not more than twenty feet high. They were 
 true national airs, and flouted all trivial demonstrations. 
 The flag had a prevailing tendency to wind itself around 
 the top of the staff, like a night-cap ; and at last Blifkins, 
 finding it impracticable, went down to Plane again, with 
 an order to add twenty feet more to the pole at once. 
 
 The neighbors, with that kind sympathy which commis 
 erates failure and misfortune by laughing at it, shouted to 
 Blifkins, as they went by, " When are .you going to hoist 
 9 
 
98 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 your flag ? " which he answered mildly, and was content 
 to wait until, with twenty feet added to his flag-staff, he 
 could confound them, especially his " copperhead " neighbors, 
 who had been outrageous in their abuse of him. He longed 
 for his hour of triumph, which he was sure would soon 
 come, as Plane had promised to have it done in a fort 
 night. The fortnight, however, passed, and the staff was 
 not done; another fortnight was consumed. in lying and 
 promises, and it did not come ; but one day, as he came 
 home, resolved that he would next day seek some other 
 carpenter, Mrs. Blifkins met him at the door, her face radi 
 ant with smiles. 
 
 " Did you see any thing as you came in ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," replied he ; " I saw your own bright face, which 
 is always my delight." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said she ; " you are so provoking ! Didn t 
 you see our flag ? " 
 
 "No," he replied. 
 
 " Well, it is up ," said she; " I put it up myself, and it has 
 attracted lots of attention. More than twenty people have 
 stopped to look at it. It blows out splendidly ! " 
 
 He stepped to the window, and looked out. There, 
 sure enough, hung the flag, blowing out, as she had said, 
 with great freedom ; but, alas for his peace and her taste, 
 it. was Union down, and at half staff! There were six 
 people watching it from the street all " copperheads." 
 With almost a howl, Blifkins rushed out, and in less 
 than one minute the flag was in his hands ; in a moment 
 more it was reversed, and floating from the top of the 
 staff. 
 
 It is with malicious satisfaction that Blifkins, on any oc 
 casion where Mrs. Blifkins asserts her superiority, asks her 
 which way she will have the Union hoisted ; but, though 
 she is subdued, she is not conquered. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 99 
 
 XVIII. 
 BLIFKINS THE CONSUMER. 
 
 " G-KOCERS are terrible fellows," said Blifkins to us one 
 morning, as he took us by the arm. We had just got past 
 the store of Firkin & Tubb, and observed that he looked 
 in there very timidly as we went by. 
 
 We asked him what he meant by the remark he had 
 just made. He hesitated ajittle, and then proceeded to 
 confess that he was a victim to fear of grocers and provis 
 ion dealers. 
 
 "When I first began housekeeping," said he, "I got 
 along very well. I could go into the grocer s, and order 
 an article with considerable confidence, and with a half- 
 belief that I was conferring a favor in buying of him. But 
 I soon found my mistake. That was a mere delusion. I 
 found that I was the obliged party, and that the sale of 
 goods to me was a matter of condescension. That grocer 
 was a terrible man. He sold me bad butter, bad sugar, 
 bad molasses, bad every thing; but there was such a stern 
 ness about him that I didn t dare to say a word. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins/ says my wife, this tea is wretched. 7 
 
 " l So it is, my love/ I would reply ; but what can 
 we do ? > 
 
 " This was a settler of a question, and, like a sensible 
 woman, she held her tongue. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins/ says my wife, the last barrel of flour 
 didn t hold out very well; it was not full when it was 
 bought. 
 
 " ( My dear, said I, e we will have another barrel/ 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins/ says my wife, that butter you sent 
 
100 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 home is awfully rancorous ; we never shall eat it ; hadn t 
 you better speak to Mr. Firkin about it? 7 
 
 " I did so, and the shock I received settled me. 
 
 " * Do you pretend to say/ said he, looking into my eye, 
 < that the butter was bad ? 
 
 " i Really, Mr. Firkin/ said I, mustering courage, I have 
 seen better. 
 
 " Better, sir ! said he, in a voice of thunder and light 
 ning, I never had better butter in my store in my life ; 
 and if you don t like it, I won t sell you any more. 
 
 " I apologized, and we went on again. 
 
 " Mr. Blif kins/ says my wife, this is wretched oil. 
 
 " Well, my dear/ said I, what can we do ? 
 
 " Buy somewhere else/ says she, promptly as the catch 
 of a steel trap. 
 
 " I looked at her to see if she wasn t a little out ; but 
 her cerulean eye never wore a clearer expression. 
 
 " * My dear/ said I, sha n t we give offence by doing so ? 
 
 " l That for the offence ! said my wife, snapping her 
 fingers contemptuously. 
 
 " Down town, a few days afterwards, I went into a gro 
 cery, and sent home groceries enough to last fora month. 
 I met Tubb in the street soon after, and says he, 
 
 " ( Blif kins, I half suspect you are buying goods some 
 where else. Now, I ll give you fair warning : if you do, 
 I ll sue you for defamation of character, implied by your 
 leaving us, and for damages in the profits we shall lose. 
 
 " I went down and saw a lawyer, and he told me, for ten 
 dollars, that they couldn t do any such thing. I buy where 
 I please now ; but I haven t got so that I can look him in 
 the face yet, and go round the other street to get to my 
 house, because I dare not meet him. 
 
 " The provision dealers are just as bad," continued he; 
 t( for when I bought a quarter of lamb, the other day, down 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAEtfS. * J I Ol 
 
 town, my provision dealer found it o u, arid raised a par 
 ticular storm about it; and as for buying vegetables out 
 of a cart, though I can get them a good deal cheaper, that 
 is out of the question." 
 
 We felt for Blifkins, and believe he is one of a great 
 many who are victims to grocers and provision dealers in 
 one way or another. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 BLIFKINS THE RURALIST. 
 
 BLIFKINS had leased a house at a convenient distance 
 from Boston, and every morning he might have been seen 
 with the " innumerable caravan " that streamed down town 
 from one of our railroads, and, as the evening shades pre 
 vailed, with his basket of purchases, entering the railroad 
 depot as regular as a cow accustomed to come into a byre^ 
 for milking. 
 
 When he first moved to his country residence, Mrs. Blif 
 kins and her mother Blifkins was blessed in his mother- 
 in-law, she was so good to advise thought the place was 
 charming. It was delightfully situated on the outskirts of 
 the village, with a hill rising from the back door to a re 
 spectable altitude, and a brook but a short distance from 
 the house, in which the children and the ducks could pad 
 dle with perfect freedom, and where the frogs came at 
 night to serenade the neighborhood, and soothe it into 
 peaceful rest by their dulcet notes. 
 
 His nearest neighbor, Mr. Sparin, dwelt in the house 
 opposite, who, as Blifkins found a short time after he had 
 located, was in the habit of indulging in occasional "times," 
 "benders" the initiated call them, when he would be 
 
102 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 away for several days in the enjo3 T men"t of sublime indiffer 
 ence to home and every thing else ; but he was harmless to 
 everybody except himself; and, after the fit was over, he 
 would re turn/ and settle down to work again as quietly as 
 though nothing had happened, looking his neighbors in the 
 face as composedly as though he had returned from a po 
 litical convention, or a missionary meeting in some other 
 place. If any one inquired as to where he had gone, he 
 had an answer always ready, that, to those unfamiliar with 
 his habits, was of the most satisfactory character. He in 
 formed Blifkins, wfto was at first curious regarding his 
 disappearance, that he had been up in the country to see 
 about some property that had been left to his wife ; and 
 Blifkins had nothing more to say. 
 
 Sparin had been away three days at the time the grand 
 incident of this veracious story transpired; and, as Blif 
 kins alighted from the cars on his return from the city on 
 that day, he was informed that Sparin had been seen by 
 .one of the neighbors going towards home across the pas 
 ture. On arriving home, he was surprised to find his wife, 
 and his mother-in-law, and all the children arranged along 
 the front of the house in a sort of evening dress-parade, gaz 
 ing intently up towards Sparin s house. The night was 
 calm and pleasant, and he thought at first, before he joined 
 them, that they were enjoying the beauties of the evening. 
 He was past the dressing-gown and slippers period, and 
 therefore knew the parade was not complimentary to him 
 self ; but he said, by way of a joke, 
 
 " This, now, is really kind of you. There is nothing that 
 cheers a man up so, on returning fatigued from business, 
 like a kind reception from wife and weans. This is really 
 pleasant." 
 
 " Blifkins, don t be a fool/ said his wife j " but look up 
 there." 
 
THE BLIFKIKS PAPEKS. 103 
 
 She pointed to a front upper window in Sparin s house, 
 and a queer sight met his startled gaze. A bright light 
 that sat on a table near the window shone full upon a hu 
 man face, that with staring eyes seemed to glare wildly 
 upon vacancy, with a meaningless expression, motionless, 
 while, at intervals of a few moments, alternate hands stole 
 up to the top of the head, and then, with a seeming effort 
 to grasp something, dropped again from sight. 
 
 " A pretty place you ve brought us to ! " said Mrs. Blif- 
 kins, with the acid slightly preponderating over the sweet. 
 
 " I m glad to hear you say so, my dear," said he ; "I 
 knew you would like it. The quiet of the place and the 
 convenience of access five minutes walk from the 
 d.cpot, as the advertisement said, though I must confess 
 that the five minutes seem rather long between the rail 
 road and my treasures. 7 
 
 Gallant Blifkins ! 
 
 " Don t be a fool always," said Mrs. Blifkins ; " what is 
 that ? " 
 
 She pointed up at the window opposite, where the face 
 yet remained the eyes staring out into vacancy, and 
 the hands alternately clutching the air, as it appeared. 
 Poor Blifkins was as puzzled at the sight as was Belshaz- 
 zar, when he saw the writing on the wall. He scarcely 
 dared to breathe his suspicions to himself; but it at once 
 ran through his mind that the face opposite belonged to 
 Sparin, who he deemed had come home, and was then in 
 a fit of delirium tremens, fancying the air full of snakes 
 and other venomous reptiles, and he was engaged in the 
 interesting game of catching them. The idea was a hor 
 rid one, and he imparted his suspicions to Mrs. Blifkins 
 with some timidity. Her mind immediately took alarm. 
 
 " What if he should kill his family," said she, " with a 
 carving-knife, and then go round murdering his neighbors, 
 
104 PABTINGTOXIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 and setting fire to their houses, and then finish with him 
 self ! Gracious goodness, it makes my blood run cold." 
 
 "I guess he won t do any hurt," said Blifkins, with af 
 fected cheerfulness. At that moment the figure gave 
 what seemed a desperate grah, as though a particularly 
 big snake were aimed at, and Mrs. Blifkins, in a tone of 
 great earnestness, said, 
 
 " Why don t you do something, stupid ? " 
 
 " What can I do ? " responded the unfortunate Blifkins. 
 
 " Why, go over and tie him," said the excellent woman, 
 with a quick mind that never lacked for expedients. Blif 
 kins, however, looked timidly at the stony face and the 
 staring eyes and the hands grasping at the snakes, and did 
 not jump at her proposition with the alacrity that a tender 
 husband ought to have done, she thought. 
 
 He had a half-formed plan of raising an alarm of fire, 
 and bringing out the engine company, but was stayed by 
 the imperative question from his wife, 
 
 " Why don t you go ? " 
 
 Mustering courage, he ran across the street, when it oc 
 curred to him that Uncle Bean, as he was called, a soldier 
 of the " last war," lived in the house with Sparin, and 
 would undoubtedly go in and see how it was with his un 
 fortunate neighbor. Uncle Bean, however, was in bed, 
 and in response to Blifkins s knocks a window opened over 
 the door, and a voice harshly demanded, what the dense 
 was the row. Blifkins explaind the matter as well as he 
 could, which was poorly enough, as the veteran was a little 
 hard of hearing. As soon as he could make the story out, 
 he told Blifkins that he must be excused from doing any 
 thing, as he had just retired on four fingers of whiskey and 
 a bad cold, and didn t want to be disturbed. He advised 
 Blifkins to go down the street to Constable Grabem s, and 
 get him to come up and attend to the affair, as it was his 
 especial business. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 105 
 
 The office of constable had been filled, from time imme 
 morial, by some unfortunate who was unable, from bodily 
 infirmity or otherwise, to get a living, but who was deemed 
 sufficient to preserve the peace and dignity of the town, 
 though a home guard of seventy men are now enrolled for 
 that purpose. 
 
 Blifkins assured himself, as he came out again into the 
 street, that the unfortunate was still there, though Mrs. 
 Blifkins and the domestic forces had retreated to the 
 citadel. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! " said his wife from an upper story win 
 dow, " have you tied him ? " 
 
 Without deigning a reply, because it might involve too 
 long an explanation, and provoke unpleasant remark, Blif 
 kins started at double quick for Grabem s, who lived some 
 twenty rods down the street. The old fellow was cooling 
 off in the porch of his house, tilted back in a chair made 
 of a flour barrel, which just admitted his spacious person, 
 and smoking a clay pipe. He heard the story patiently, 
 but vouchsafed no reply to Blifkins s prognostications re 
 garding the inebriate s performance of mischief, except 
 "Let him. 7 
 
 " He ll cut his own throat, and then murder his family," 
 said Blifkins. 
 
 i( Let him," replied Grabem, puffing away. 
 
 " He ll set fire to the house, and burn the neighbor- 
 hood ! " screamed Blifkins. 
 
 " Let him ! " shouted the constable. 
 
 " He ll kill everybody, and play the deuse generally ! " 
 yelled Blifkins: 
 
 " Let him ! " roared the official, breaking the clay pipe as 
 he tipped energetically forward. 
 
 Blifkins went back, and bethought himself that Sparin 
 had a sou, a sort of second edition of hin^self, *- who 
 
106 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 was disposed of an evening to make merry, with boys of 
 his age, by the grocery at the other side of his residence, 
 about as far as he had come to find the constable. He 
 would go and see him, and have>hiin go home and look 
 after his eccentric paternal. He accordingly rushed, as 
 fast as his weary limbs would carry him, to where he ex 
 pected to find the lad. He looked up at the house as lie 
 passed by, and there was the face still there, with the set 
 eyes and the busy hands. 
 
 Fortunately for Blifkins, the boy was found ; and on be 
 ing informed of the suspicions concerning his parent, and 
 expressing his own convictions thereon in a very preco 
 cious manner, involving sundry unfilial remarks, implying 
 a wish that he might be permitted to punch his head, they 
 started down the street together. The outposts of the 
 Blifkins stockade saw them coining down the street by the 
 uncertain light of the stars, and the whole garrison turned 
 out to meet them, with the remark of Mrs. Blifkins, that 
 he had been gone two hours, and that all of them might 
 be killed and scalped if they depended upon such as he for 
 protection. It was an exaggeration with regard to the 
 time, because not more than half an hour had elapsed since 
 he had arrived from the city ; but something must be al 
 lowed for excitement, when a maniac, threatening violence, 
 and perhaps death, was in she case. 
 
 Blifkins thought it would be best for the, boy to go in, 
 while he would wait outside of the door, armed with a 
 bludgeon, to rush in at the first alarm. He accordingly 
 provided himself with a cat-stick, and stood with a beat 
 ing heart to await the result. He heard no sound from 
 within. The stillness of death prevailed. Could it be 
 possible that the maniac had rushed upon the lad suddenly 
 and strangled him ! He glanced up at the window, and 
 saw that the stony face had disappeared. IJe couldn t 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 107 
 
 leave his youthful ally to perish. The respect of the neigh 
 borhood, his self-respect, and, more than all, the respect of 
 Mrs. Blifkins, whom he still saw watching him from the 
 opposite side of the way, forbade so cowardly a thing. 
 He seized his cudgel with a firmer grasp, and was lifting 
 his foot to take a step nearer the door, when he heard a 
 step upon the stairs inside, and the door opened. He was 
 relieved by seeing that it was the boy, who said, 
 
 " It s all right. 7 
 
 " What s all right ? " cried Blifkins, taking him by the 
 collar, and dragging him across the street to where the im 
 patient group were awaiting the denouement of the scene. 
 
 " It s only mother," said he, as soon as he could speak ; 
 " you see she wears a wig, and was sitting there where you 
 saw her, pulling out the short hairs that were growing on 
 her head she s as bald as a plate." 
 
 "Just as I thought," said Mrs. Blifkins, "and anybody 
 but a fool would have seen it at once. I declare I believe 
 Blifkins is growing stupider and stupider every day. I m 
 thankful none of the children take after him." 
 
 " True, dear," chimed in his mother-in-law ; " but it 
 couldn t be expected any different, because men are never 
 so considerable as women. Though he hadn t ought to try 
 your feelings so at such a time." 
 
 " Oh ! my feelings are not of any consequence," said Mrs. 
 Blifkins ; " I never expect any consideration for them." 
 
 Blifkins with a tried spirit went into the house, the light 
 had disappeared from the pane opposite, he heard his chil 
 dren say their prayers as he put them to bed, and sat 
 down in velvet slippers and tranquil meditation, thanking 
 his lucky stars that he had been saved from participating 
 in what might have been a tragedy, had the fates so 
 willed it. 
 
108 PAKTENGTONIAN PATCHWOBK. 
 
 XX. 
 
 BLIFKINS S MIDNIGHT CALL. 
 
 MR. BLIFKINS in his domestic economy for many years 
 has retained the allopathic system of medicine, and, hy his 
 liberal encouragement of apothecaries, has established quite 
 a reputation withHhat class. As, in the event of sickness, 
 each application required new bottles and new pill-boxes, it 
 may be supposed that during the twenty years of his ex 
 perience, there was about his house a formidable aggregate 
 of half-used prescriptions, reminders of several moderate 
 fortunes that had been thrown to the dogs in the form of 
 physic, about the use and effect of which the memory of 
 Blifkins ceased to be cognizant. Mrs. Blifkins, however, 
 insisted upon keeping them, from an economical desire that 
 nothing should be wasted; for she is a great economist, 
 and there is not one in the neighborhood that excels her. 
 Her house is a curiosity shop of relics of past economies, 
 that have survived all earthly uses, and lie mouldering in 
 a hundred nooks around the house, and bottles and boxes 
 in a closet handy are numerous enough to set up a drug 
 gist of not inordinate desires. She pretended, and actual 
 ly thought, probably, that she knew the difference between 
 a cough mixture and a wash for weak eyes, could discrimi 
 nate betwixt rheumatic and dyspepsia pills, and knew caii- 
 tharides from Dover s powders readily. Blifkins had long 
 been doubtful about this, though, which doubt recently 
 produced an entire revolution in his household pharmac} . 
 But Mr. Blifkins tells his own story best, and we leave its 
 recital to him. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 109 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, says my wife, suddenly starting up in 
 the bed, and looking wildly into the face of little Tommy, 
 I believe this child is going to have the croup, or the 
 scarlet fever, or something. Mr. Blifkins ! 
 
 ".I had got to the stage of sleep when one is conscious 
 of sleeping and waking at the same time the senses 
 steeping with somnolent poppies, but not quite narcotized 
 into forgetful ness. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins ! repeated my wife, giving me this time 
 an unmistakable pinch. 
 
 " What in the name of tribulation is the matter? I 
 cried in something like a pet ; is the house on fire ? 
 
 " No j but something is the matter with Tommy, she 
 replied ; perhaps he s going to have the croup maybe 
 he ll have a fit he s very restless/ 
 
 " I started up and looked in the face of that little inno 
 cent. They always said he looked just like me, and cer 
 tainly that midnight inspection gave very little encourage 
 ment to self-vanity, for a more disagreeable-looking little 
 cub I thought I had never seen. He was evidently in 
 trouble, for his features worked, his tiny fists were clinched 
 hard, his eyes were partly unclosed, and his skin seemed 
 quite dry and hot. I immediately took my wife s alarm. 
 
 " What s to be done ? I asked. 
 
 " Mr. Blifkins, said sbe, we must give him something. 
 
 " Exactly, I responded ; but what shall it be ? You, 
 who are such an excellent nurse, shall decide. 
 
 " I arose, and, accoutred as I was, stood ready to exe 
 cute her command. I signified this to her by saying, 
 
 " Now, my dear, say the word. 
 
 " Let me see, said she ; if it is the croup, the medicine 
 in the bottle on the left hand side of the closet is the one. 
 It was bought for Mary, two winters ago. 
 
 " I immediately proceeded to the closet adjacent to our 
 10 
 
110 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 room, the interior of which was revealed by the dim light 
 of the gas. There were long rows of phials on the shelves, 
 backed by bottles of hair dye, and boxes of ^indefinable 
 articles in the domestic dispensary. I saw what I sup 
 posed was the needed bottle ; but, in extricating it from 
 its position, I threw down some half a dozen of the inter 
 vening phials, that rattled and clattered upon the floor in a 
 manner that sounded fearfully, some of them breaking, and 
 the glass scattering around, to the dismay of my bare 
 feet. 
 
 " Do break every thing to pieces ! said my wife, in a 
 tone not very sweet, considering her amiability of temper ; 
 but I imputed it to her anxiety. I brought the bottle, and 
 placed it in her hands. 
 
 " Good Heavens, Mr. Blifkins/ said my wife, * would 
 you kill the child ? This is volatile liniment/ 
 
 " The d it is, cried I, with unwarrantable heat. My 
 wife sobbed out, 
 
 " O Mr. Blifkins ! suppose we had given him some of 
 this by mistake ! you never would have forgiven yourself. 
 
 " I thought the change of person in her remark a little 
 invidious, and somewhat unkind, in view of the fact that 
 she had command of the medicine chest. 
 
 " I took the bottle from the place you told me/ said I, 
 almost fiercely. 
 
 " You couldn t have done so, Mr. Blifkins/ replied my 
 wife ; I saw it on the right hand, just inside the door, no 
 longer ago than Tuesday week, when Mrs. McGonagle 
 cleaned the paint. 7 
 
 " Right hand? I repeated after her ; you said the left 
 just now. 7 
 
 "I heard her sigh out something, about < cruelty and 
 unfeelingness as I went to make another plunge among 
 the army of bottles. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. Ill 
 
 " < This must be it, then/ said I, seizing a four ouncer, 
 nearly full of a dark fluid, by the neck, and bringing it out 
 to my wife. 
 
 " i Gracious goodness ! exclaimed she ; are you deter 
 mined to kill the child ? That s arnica, for the rheumatism. 
 Mr. Blifkins, are you awake ? 7 
 
 " Without replying this time, I made a dive for the closet, 
 taking down phial after phial, and reading the smeared in 
 scriptions as well as I could. What an ocean of lotions, 
 and mixtures, and vermifuges, and preparations, and washes! 
 At length I got hold of one that I felt sure must be it, be 
 cause I could not by any ingenuity decipher the label. I 
 accordingly carried it to Mrs. Blifkins with the confident 
 air of one who has achieved an immense exploit, holding 
 it out to her with a There ! expressive of my satisfac 
 tion. 
 
 " < That ! -said my wife ; that s not it ; that is the chalk 
 mixture, bought for Bub two summers ago. 7 
 
 " I broke down at this, and with a voice tremulous with 
 cold, though my wife always wrongfully said it was with an 
 ger, I asked her why, in the name of some deity or other, she 
 didn t get up and find it herself. She immediately arose 
 to the occasion, like a speaker at a Fourth of July dinner, 
 and sublimely strode towards the closet, returning, a mo 
 ment thereafter, with two bottles that had escaped my 
 notice, which she held up before me with the simple but 
 comprehensive remark, 
 
 " Stupid ! 
 
 " I felt that I was stupid, and was ready to admit the 
 fact, when I was struck by the puzzled look that appeared 
 upon my wife s face. 
 
 " Let me see/ said she. 
 
 " I made a motion to turn up the gas, so that she 
 might isee, but found that she required a clearer vision re- 
 
112 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 garding some mental problem that she was solving ; so I 
 let her see as she best might. 
 
 " I declare/ said my wife, I don t know whether this 
 is the bedbug poison or the croup specific, they are so 
 much alike. 
 
 " ( Perhaps he hasn t got the croup, said I, as I stooped 
 over the bed ; and there lay the little fellow wide awake, 
 threshing the air with his two tiny fists, and making up all 
 sorts of faces at the shadows upon the wall. I saw in a 
 moment that we had deceived ourselves, as most parents 
 will ; and, turning away, I wickedly said, 
 
 " Give me the medicine ! I think he s going to have a 
 fit 
 
 " My wife shrieked. 
 
 " Of laughter, I immediately added, and received a box 
 on the ear for my reward. I addressed my wife solemnly, 
 for I felt serious : 
 
 " Here we have been collecting together this precious 
 amount of trash for years for an emergency, and now, 
 when the emergency comes, what is it good for ? I tell 
 you what, wife this is the end of such nonsense. Will 
 you be so kind as to open that window ? 
 
 " She did so, and in three minutes every phial and its con 
 tents were in the street. People opened their windows to 
 ascertain the meaning of the crash of glass, and were much 
 astonished the next morning to learn the cause of it, but 
 more so to hear me say that I would have nothing more 
 to do with doctor s stuff, unless it was in the form of small 
 pellets, so harmless that nightshade could be taken as well 
 as catnip, for the same diseases, with impunity." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 113 
 
 XXI. 
 
 BLIFKINS THE EXPERIMENTALIST. 
 
 " THERE," said Blifkins, as he laid a small paper pack 
 age upon the table, while a strong smell of camphor per 
 vaded the apartment, " I guess that will fix em." 
 
 " Fix who ? " asked Mrs. B., wildly, as she thought of 
 her children, or some other poisoned victims of Mr. B. s 
 sudden insanity. 
 
 " Have you seen Amos ? " he continued, without an 
 swering her question. 
 
 "Amos? What Amos?" she queried, half rising from 
 her chair, as if to cry for help in the event of his being 
 violent. 
 
 " Amos-quito ! " he almost shouted. 
 
 "Now, don t make a jack of yourself, Benjamin, if you 
 can help it," said she. " The little brains you have got 
 should be devoted to better uses than making fun of the 
 wife of your bosom ; but I have learned to bear it, and am 
 now ready to suffer and be strong. What have you got 
 in that parcel ? " 
 
 " That ? Dead Shot for mosquitoes Amos, you know. 
 I read it in the paper that gum camphor, burnt in a room, 
 is a certain antidote against em, and I m bound to try it. 
 But now, little wife, let us have supper, for I am as hungry 
 as a meeting-house." 
 
 " Do be a little more choice in your comparisons, Benja 
 min. The children all copy you in spite of all I can say. 
 Only yesterday little Jimmy said he didn t care three 
 shakes of a sheep s tail for his uncle Joshua, who is al 
 ways giving him moral lessons." 
 10* 
 
114 PAUTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Well, let s have supper, wife, and then, 
 
 When the evening shades prevail, 
 We ll take an old tin pan or pail, 
 And straightway with the burnt camphire 
 We ll give the skeeters Jeremiah. 
 
 See Watts for the authority quoted from memory." 
 
 " That s right ; go on making fun of the most serious 
 things. No wonder the children get all sorts of queer no 
 tions into their heads ; hut they shall never blame me for 
 it when they grow up." 
 
 Blifkins chatted with his children, said a cheerful word 
 to his wife, praised the cooking, and as the table girl, who 
 was quite good looking, passed his chair, he gave her a 
 smile that Mrs. Blifkins detected. 
 
 -"That s pretty," said she, "for a married man to do 
 right in the presence of his wife and children ! But I have 
 no right to expect any thing else. Hadn t you better in 
 stall that minx in my place, and done with it ? " 
 
 " No, my dear," said Blifkins ; " I am very well content 
 ed with the one I chose, among fifty, to preside over my 
 mahogany, and am riot disposed to change at present." 
 
 After supper Blifkins romped with the children, joked 
 with Mrs. B., and forced that estimable lady into a degree 
 of pleasant humor that was quite startling. Before they 
 well knew it, the hour of bed-time had arrived, when the 
 children were kissed good night previous to being put in 
 their little beds, and Mr. and Mrs. B. retired to their 
 chamber, which had been terribly invaded by hordes of 
 mosquitoes, making sleep impossible for several nights. 
 
 " I declare, my dear," said Blifkins, when just ready for 
 bed, " I ve forgotten, in the pleasures of the evening, my 
 camphor. It is on the dining-room table.. I ll run down 
 and get it." 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 115 
 
 " What ! " almost screamed Mrs. Blifkins, " and meet, 
 perhaps, the servant girls on the stairs ! I ll go myself. 7 
 
 And go she did. 
 
 "And now," said he, "little wife, for some implement in 
 which to burn the camphor. Let me see : your little dust- 
 shovel will do. Where is it ? " 
 
 " What a plague you are, Benjamin ! " replied Mrs. B. ; 
 " and I don t believe it will amount to any thing, after it is 
 all done. There s the shovel." 
 
 Blifkins crumbled up about a great spoonful of the cam 
 phor, and, placing it in the shovel, held it over the gas- 
 burner, waiting for it to burn. He was soon rewarded 
 by seeing it smoke, and then, a moment after, there was a 
 poof! and a blaze, and Blifkins, starting at the suddenness 
 of the conflagration, dropped the shovel, and Mrs. B. turned 
 off the gas. The camphor fell into the wash-basin, where 
 it soon burnt out, the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Blifkins look 
 ing ghastly in the light while it lasted, and their night 
 dresses rendered the scene very spectral. 
 
 " Better luck next time," said Blifkins, smiling in the 
 dark, and feeling round for the camphor. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " replied Mrs. B., sententiously. 
 
 " I ll succeed or perish in the attempt," said Benjamin, 
 brandishing the shovel, as he relighted the gas. 
 
 " You ll never do any thing with it," replied Mrs. B. ; 
 " and if I were a mosquito, I should laugh at you." 
 
 " By the way," said Blifkins, as he crumbled the cam 
 phor, "did you ever hear that it was the female mosquitoes 
 that do all the stinging ?" 
 
 " A story invented by a man," replied she, " to slander 
 us poor women, as though we hadn t enough laid upon us 
 already." 
 
 "Well, here we go again," said Blifkins, holding his 
 shovel over the blaze. . 
 
116 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 This time the gum ignited finely, and a bright blaze and 
 a dense smoke followed, the latter rising to the ceiling in a 
 black cloud, and rolling along the wall in opaque convolu 
 tions. This, experiment was followed by another ; and as 
 B., like the fabled Colossus of Rhodes, as depicted, stood 
 with his hand raised aloft, holding the blazing shovel, he 
 passed the open door where his children lay, the oldest of 
 whom, waking, shouted, " Fire ! " and rushed for the entry, 
 where the servant girls were huddling, having already 
 smelt the smoke. They opened the door, and all rushed 
 in pell-mell, as Blifkins was completing his last grand 
 round before the flame sunk to its grave, and then rushed 
 out again, as Mrs. B. threw herself into the breach, and 
 forced them back. The cry of the child had attracted at 
 tention in the street, besides ; and Blifkins, hearing a mur 
 mur of voices below, looked out upon a crowd of people 
 assembled, and a voice demanded, 
 
 " What the deuse is the matter ? " 
 
 He assured them that nothing was the matter; that his 
 child was frightened, that s all, with a nightmare; and told 
 them there was no need of the hose-carriage they had 
 brought from round the neighboring corner. After some 
 altercation, the crowd dispersed, an opinion being expressed 
 that Blifkins was " a humbuggin cuss." 
 
 The house at last was still, and the pair retired to sleep 
 in an atmosphere of camphor smoke- that wa s almost suf 
 focating. 
 
 " Now, my dear," said Blifkins, " I hope we shall enjoy 
 a quiet night s sleep, free from the trumpet-notes of the 
 mosquitoes." 
 
 B-z-z-z, b-z-z-z ! right in his very ear. 
 
 At that moment, Mrs. B. gave herself a severe slap in 
 the face, as if she were inflicting personal chastisement ; 
 and Blifkins, with both arms out of bed, thrashed the 
 air like a windmill. 
 
THE BLIFKINS PAPERS. 117 
 
 " I told you so," said Mrs. B., giving herself a dig in the 
 eye, and bringing her elbow plump on Blifkins s nose ; 
 " but you never will take my advice. I am done expect 
 ing that. Men nowadays had rather ask the advice of 
 other people s wives than their own, and I suppose it is all 
 right; but don t think it is just the thing (slap) to expect 
 every thing of a woman, and withhold confidence (slap), 
 and smile at servant maids, and visit other women (a vi 
 cious slap) ; and now this last farce that you have played 
 (slap), with a shirt so ridiculously short ; and Heaven knows 
 where it will end (slap), which was disgraceful enough ; 
 and the girls rushing in as they did " 
 
 She drew the sheet over her head, her voice died to a 
 confused murmur, and Mrs. Blifkins slept. 
 
 Blifkins fought in silence with his fate. The enemy 
 had been driven from the ceiling above, and had attacked, 
 front and rear, in the field below, coming not as single 
 spies, but in battalions, until he was fain to beat a retreat, 
 and hide his head beneath a defence of cotton cloth, vow 
 ing to himself, as he passed into the land of dreams, that 
 he would do on the morrow what he should have done long 
 before buy some mosquito netting. 
 
 Next morning it was found that the snow-white wall 
 was grimy with the smoke, the paper smutched, and a 
 villanous smell remained, an abiding evidence of the night 
 attack. The whole affair was the subject of a severe lec 
 ture at the breakfast table, and a re-affirmation by Mrs. B. 
 of the often-repeated statement that there was never a 
 woman so cruelly treated as she. 
 
 When Blifkins arrived at the store, he took up the Post, 
 and the first item that met his view was : 
 
 " There was a slight fire at the house of Mr. Benjamin Blifkins, 
 No. 16 Cliff Street, last evening ; but it was extinguished by Officers 
 Mudhead and Spinks without causing a general alarm." 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 
 
 DR. SPOONER IN SEARCH OP THE DELECTABLE. 
 
 119 
 
DR. 8POONER IN SEARCH OF THE DELECTABLE. 
 
INTRODUCING DR. SPOOLER. 
 
 THOSE who have been privileged listeners of Dr. Diony- 
 sius Spooner, as he has described to them his adventures 
 while in search of "the Delectable," will not be offended 
 at this imperfect "rendering of them ; while others who 
 have not been thus privileged will see in them the strug 
 gles of a great mind towards the attainment of an object, 
 and may receive from their example an impetus in the 
 right direction, as though it were from the toe of an 
 intellectual boot, energetically applied. The writer be 
 came acquainted with the doctor through a train of very 
 singular, yet natural, circumstances singular from the 
 manner of their occurrence, rather than from their charac 
 ter. Passing through the streets one day, he overheard two 
 gentlemen in earnest conversation, one of whom said, 
 " Well, Dr. Spooner said so." This sentence forced itself 
 upon his mind, and he pondered upon what Dr. Spooner 
 could have said, and who Dr. Spooner was, with no hope of 
 solving the mystery. He was afterwards at a picture sale, 
 where the fate of an original Rembrandt, the subject of 
 which none could make out, was hanging on the blow 
 of the auctioneer s mallet. " Why, gentlemen," said he, 
 will you let this go so low, when Dr. Spooner vouches 
 
 11 121 
 
122 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 for its authenticity ? " The bids then ran rapidly up to a 
 dollar and a half, when it was knocked off. Dr. Spooner 
 again ! He was evidently a connoisseur, but there was no 
 room for inquiry. When the steamboat Henry Morrison 
 went down, in Boston Harbor, it was stated that Dr. Spooner 
 was present, and lent able assistance in preparing the chow 
 der. He thus proved himself an epicure, an "epicac" 
 Mrs. Partington called it, and again provoked the inquiry, 
 " Who is Dr. Spooner ? w The answer to the question was 
 further withheld, and on a day some months later, while the 
 writer was in a store matching some calico for home con 
 sumption, there was quite a commotion near the door. He 
 asked the meaning thereof, and was told that Dr. Spooner 
 was passing by. " Tell me," said he, suddenly seizing his 
 informant by the collar, "who is Dr. Spooner?" The per 
 son extricated himself, and, simply saying "I don t know," 
 passed out. There was no one present who could answer 
 the question. But Fate was kinder. One day, while pur 
 chasing his dinner at a stall in the market, a remarkable 
 and very imposing person was cheapening a leg of mutton 
 at the same, having purchased which, and given a very lucid 
 direction as to how it should be trimmed, Jie threw down a 
 card, to the address of which he wished the delicacy sent. 
 Glancing at it, the writer read, 
 
 CHIROPODIST, 
 
 111 Q Street." 
 
INTRODUCING DR. SPOONER. 123 
 
 Here was a discovery! " Hesitating then no longer/ 
 the writer hastily said, " Pardon me, sir ! but I am very 
 desirous of making your acquaintance. Your name 
 has reached me so favorably, that you need not pro 
 duce vouchers of character; for myself, try me." "I 
 should, perhaps, leave the tribunals to do that," said 
 he, blandly, "but I like your impudence, and will 
 encourage your advances. Come and see me, and we 
 will make an equal exchange you try my mutton, 
 and I will try you ; sheep for sheep, you know." The 
 victim was annoyed, but gulped down his chagrin. 
 This was the commencement of an acquaintance most 
 beneficial to the writer. While, paregorically speak 
 ing, sitting at the feet of this modern Gamaliel, the 
 narration of his efforts to * attain the Delectable has 
 fallen in showers of soporific illusion about the ears of 
 the listener, until, inspired, the Muse plumed herself 
 for the flight that should portray the persistency which 
 strove for so much and gained so little. 
 
 The walks through which the modern Syntax wandered 
 in search of the Delectable are not so varied as those 
 pursued by his ancient prototype, in quest of the Pictur 
 esque, because the space devoted to the subject is not so 
 extended ; reminding the reader, doubtless, of that classi 
 cal incident where the three wise men of Gotham went to 
 sea in a bowl, and it was said, in excuse for the brevity of 
 the narrative, 
 
 " If the bowl had been, stronger, 
 The song had been longer." 
 
124 PAKTTNGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 The incidents, however, have herein been compressed agree 
 ably to a wise editorial admonition, but recently promul 
 gated, to "boil it down," meaning just this kind of 
 matter ; and therefore the latter production bears the same 
 relation to the former that Leibig s extract of flesh does to 
 the "stalled ox." 
 
 The author trusts that the recital of the several inci 
 dents described may afford pleasure and profit to the 
 reader, and win for the distinguished subject thereof new 
 renown. 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 
 DR. SPOONER IN SEARCH OF THE DELECTABLE. 
 
 ON Monday morning, with the sun uprist, 
 Good Dr. Spooner ate his steak in haste, 
 
 And hurried down his coffee and his twist, 
 As though no moment he would idly waste, 
 
 Then took his cane within his sturdy fist, 
 With animation on his features traced, 
 
 And started forth in attitude reflectahle,* 
 
 To seek, ? mid airs mundane, the goal Delectable. 
 
 * The author at the outset before he has led the good doctor 
 through any of the labyrinthine walks of life with the independ 
 ence of the poet, who will not be limited by the conventionalities 
 of dictionaries, grammars, or common sense, claims the right to coin 
 as many words as his opinion, or the needs of rhyme, may require. 
 Hence the word " reflectable ; " and the claim is introduced to disarm 
 the critics of the Atlantic, North American, or Foreign Quarterly, 
 who might snap at this seeming and only fault, as a pickerel might 
 at a frog s leg. 
 
 125 
 
126 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 n. 
 
 Before him lay the undeveloped scene 
 
 That Fate, impatient, waited him to show ; 
 
 He stood a moment with a thoughtful mien, 
 As if uncertain which path he should go, 
 
 Then held his cane his finger tips between, 
 That, by its falling, he his course might know. 
 
 North-east ! 7 Tis well. Now all my doubts at rest, 
 
 Since chance so wills it, I ll go sou -sou -west 
 
 in. 
 
 Not he, alone, to go adverse to Fate ; 
 
 Some do, with all prognostics pointing clear, 
 And full success attending at the gate ; 
 
 They do not stop propitious hints to hear, 
 But clutch at phantom shapes that tempting wait, 
 
 Till, to their disappointment and their fear, 
 They see their error and neglected track, 
 With little hope of ever getting back. 
 
 IV. 
 
 All have desire to win the happy goal, 
 
 And all strike out o er some illusive gravel, 
 
 Investing hope and earnestness of soul 
 The mystery of the future to unravel, 
 
 Finding, too oft, to their dismay and dole, 
 
 Their road, like Jordan, very hard to travel - 
 
 Their delectation, like the Paddy s flea, 
 
 Within their grasp, and yet not quite to be. 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 127 
 
 V. 
 
 Diversity of tastes prompts divers aims, 
 
 And, as the whim controls, men blindly go it, 
 
 Pursuing here and there their little games, 
 
 Through which, for bliss set out, they think they ll 
 show it ; 
 
 Each plays his part, with equal hopes and claims, 
 Trusting that Fate propitious will bestow it; 
 
 But very few attain the culmination 
 
 That gives the sought-for boon of delectation. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Though, for that matter, comes the question up, 
 
 What is the boon for which they thus are striving ? 
 
 Pill to the brim Joy s most enchanting cup, 
 
 Some would reject it, other draughts contriving, 
 
 Being more happy far to take a sup 
 
 Prom sombre springs, or in their depths be diving j 
 
 A strange anomaly we too often see, 
 
 Where happiness is sought in misery. 
 
 VII. 
 
 No sympathy have I with such as these ; 
 
 But what they do is what they deem the best ; 
 The genial soul, the heart in fullest ease, 
 
 Comes up the nearest my ideal of blest ; 
 We will not quarrel each his pathway sees, 
 
 And travels it for happiness in quest : 
 Each to his taste, as the old lady said 
 W T hat time she kissed the tenant of the shed. 
 
128 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 vni. 
 
 So Dr. Spooner, with his heart aglow, 
 
 Stood ready to attain the boon I speak of; 
 
 The Fates had fixed the path that he must go 
 By his cane s falling you recall the freak of 
 
 He rested as he felt the breezes blow 
 
 From a fair hill of which he saw the peak of, 
 
 And thus addressed them, like a necromancer 
 
 Demanding of unsentient things an answer : 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Tell me, ye winged winds, as on ye fly, 
 
 Hast come from scenes where delectation waits ? 
 
 Point me, winds ! that sport beneath the sky 
 Where perfect joy the craving spirit sates ; 
 
 Direct my steps, that I may quickly hie 
 
 Where bliss unfolds its amaranthine gates ! " 
 
 The winds deigned no reply, but swifter sped, 
 
 Tearing the doctor s hat from off his head. 
 
 x. 
 
 There is no more provoking thing I know 
 
 Than this : to have one s hat torn from his pate. 
 
 No sympathy doth any one bestow, 
 
 And grins the awkward accident await ; 
 
 The curious crowd look on to see us go, 
 As we pursue the fleeing thing of hate, 
 
 UntiJ, perhaps, some chap, a little faster, 
 
 Plants his thick No. Twelves on our new castor 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 129 
 
 XI. 
 
 He stood a moment when regained his tile, 
 
 And on the incident reflecting dwelt ; 
 He paid the fact the tribute of a smile, 
 
 A feeling tribute, for the hat was felt. 
 "I ve chased this hat the fraction of a mile," 
 
 He said, " and this sage thought comes through my pelt : 
 That, as I ve won it, racing with the wind, 
 ( In the long run I happiness shall find." 
 
 XII. 
 
 And, thus assured, he sped with eager feet, 
 Caroming here and there as on he flew, 
 
 Pushing some oif the sidewalk to the street, 
 And by collision bringing others to, 
 
 Exciting talk we will not now repeat, 
 And angry thoughts awaking not a few, 
 
 When to a full stop was he quickly brought, 
 
 Like a blue-bottle in a fly-trap caught. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 There moved along, exactly in his way, 
 
 One of those well-made-up, artistic women, 
 
 Who are, as one might very justly say, 
 
 One quarter flesh and blood, and three fourths tfimmin 
 
 He tried to pass her, giving ample play 
 To all the furbelows about Her streaming 
 
 When, spite of all his wary care and pain, 
 
 He found his boots entangled in her train* 
 
130 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 He turned about and gazed on what he d done, 
 Confounded at the seeming mischief dire ; 
 
 But when he saw the spitefulness that shon,e 
 Forth from her eyes, like that same baleful fire 
 
 We read about, excuse he proffered none, 
 But said, " If I am sorry I m a liar; 
 
 What right had she, at just that time, to spread 
 
 Above the spot whereon I chose to tread ? " 
 
 XV. 
 
 But in a moment more he felt contrite, 
 
 And held his head down with emotion humble ; 
 
 He o er the pave had no exclusive right, 
 
 And, mongst her things-come-afterwards to stumble, 
 
 He had endangered an annoying plight, 
 
 At which she well might frown on him or grumble ; 
 
 And then he turned, repentant, but, a goner, 
 
 He saw the lady turn a distant corner. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And this impressed itself upon his mind ; 
 
 No one is happy disregarding others, 
 As men are so untwistingly combined 
 
 That rending one the great remainder bothers ; 
 And but as one is just, polite, and kind, 
 
 And all his selfish aspirations smothers, 
 Can he expect that happiness below 
 Which the exalted soul alone can kribw. 
 
JONES 
 
 DR. SPOONER ON A JTflAIN. Pige 130. 
 
THE MODEEN SYNTAX. 131 
 
 XVII. 
 
 He moved along mid scenes of active life, 
 And stoutly strove his object to attain ; 
 
 There was excitement in the pressing strife, 
 But with it all there mixed a sense of pain ; 
 
 With selfishness society was rife, 
 
 And finding all his expectation vain, 
 
 Heart-sick and weary, with unlevel head, 
 
 He turned himself towards home, and went to bed. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 And then the dreams born of his urgent wish ! 
 
 Led through fair scenes that waking ne er reveals, 
 Feasting on spreads of flesh, and fowl, and fish, 
 
 Quaffing rare drinks of most attractive seals, 
 All right side up his favor-beckoning dish, 
 
 Holding such cards as kindest fortune deals, 
 Waking at morn with resolution stout, 
 His quest for happiness to carry out. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 One day is like another in the race 
 For some pet object, every else forgot ; 
 
 So the good doctor daily held his chase 
 
 To find mong mundane scenes the blissful lot, 
 
 The one strong hope to rest his weary pace 
 When he should reach the delectating spot. 
 
 Of all the spots that I know worth the trying 
 
 A fifty spot is the most satisfying. 
 
132 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Thus, as with zeal elate he wandered out, 
 His mind intent on seeking delectation, 
 
 And with an eager eye he looked about, 
 Giving all things a wise examination, 
 
 Unheeding an admonitory shout, 
 
 That of some danger made ejaculation, 
 
 There came a snow-slide from some upper height, 
 
 And Dr. Spooner disappeared from sight ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A mingled feel waits accidents like these : 
 A grateful thrill like an unuttered prayer, 
 
 As one from peril saved his status sees, 
 And then a pressing tendency to swear, 
 
 Which from oppressive wrath the temper frees, 
 So some folks think, in which I take no share, 
 
 But the good doctor, as he moved once more, 
 
 Took stock in neither mood, nor prayed nor swore. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 In fact, just then in search for happiness, 
 And doubtful if twere pious or profane, 
 
 He would not compromise his chance for bliss, 
 But non-committal would a while remain. 
 
 Many another does the same as this, 
 Desirous some pet object to attain; 
 
 For policy and selfishness prevail, 
 
 While interest steers, and caution trims the sail. 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 133 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The greatest pleasure that the world can give 
 Is that we draw from intellectual sources ; 
 
 Freed from the sensuous dross in which we live, 
 We mid the purer ethers vent our forces, 
 
 And misspent hours we happily retrieve 
 In following those crystal water-courses 
 
 That flow from founts in mental mountains springing, 
 
 And to our feet the choicest gifts are bringing. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 So Dr. Spooner thought he d take to books, 
 
 And bought them lavishly, a,ll subjects choosing 
 
 Having them placed in their adapted nooks, 
 With catalogues their resting-place disclosing ; 
 
 Bound handsomely in calf, that graceful looks 
 Might add attraction, and enhance the using, 
 
 All books that might a reader s thoughts awaken, 
 
 From Blood-and-Thunder Nibs to Friar Bacon. 
 
 xxv. 
 
 His heart ached at the woe of thrilling stories, 
 Fraught with depictions of unreal life ; 
 
 He read in histories the crowning glories 
 
 That flowed from fields of sanguinary strife ; 
 
 Philosophy and physics passed before his 
 Eyes, with the light of ripe reflection rife, 
 
 Yet betwixt Reade and Bacon he confessed 
 
 He d neither read, but thought E-eade was the best. 
 
 12 
 
134 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Then borrowers came, and fastened on his hoard, 
 Splitting his sets remorselessly to pieces ; 
 
 And in those cases where they were restored, 
 
 They came back dog-eared and denied with creases; 
 
 Until, at, last, beyond endurance bored, 
 
 Said he, "From now henceforward all this ceases 1" 
 
 Then locked his door upon his precious shelves, 
 
 And left his authors pondering on themselves. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The tempter whispered, "Go it while you re young I 
 
 Taste the delirious tumult of the hou/; 
 The siren sings as sweet as e er she sung, 
 
 The senses plead with unabated power; 
 Bring your dull soul joy s halcyon scenes among, 
 
 And pluck, while yet it blooms, life s brightest flower; 
 Don t mure yourself till felt years chilling blasts, 
 And quaff the cup of pleasure while it lasts." 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 In dissipation did the doctor dip, 
 
 And strove to find what fun there might be in it. 
 He pressed the sparkling goblet to his lip, 
 
 Till his old head hummed like an ancient spinet ; 
 He joined in pleasure s jolly partnership, 
 
 In wild adventure mixing every minute ; 
 But when he found his nose all raw and red, 
 " There s very little fun in sport like this," he said. 
 
THE MODEKN SYNTAX. 135 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 A wholesome lesson this, that all may learn 
 
 Who try such roads to find the bliss they crave. 
 
 They re lit by lamps that oil Plutonic burn, 
 
 And lead through scenes that weaken and enslave ; 
 
 Brigands of Passion lurk at every turn 
 
 To trip the feet of those their prowess brave, 
 
 And the " good times " that lured the soul away, 
 
 Are drafts on time, with no funds left to pay. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Many of those these sprightly lines who read 
 Know how it is themselves no slang intended. 
 
 Though fair the promise all too pronely heed, 
 With honeyed hope and expectation blended, 
 
 The hope soon prematurely goes to seed, 
 
 And winter comes before the summer s ended j 
 
 The roses turn to ashes iieath the bread, 
 
 And dirges wail the season that has fled. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Were I disposed a moral to indite, 
 
 Here most unquestionably is its place : 
 
 Don t wait repentance until appetite 
 
 No more has power its progress to retrace; 
 
 Complete worn-outness surely s not the plight 
 To give repentance much, if any, grace. 
 
 J Twas no great merit in old Uncle Ned 
 
 Corn-cakes to eschew with his teeth all shed. 
 
186 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XXXJI. 
 
 He walked and pondered, with his brow erect, 
 Devising in his mind which way to turn 
 
 To gain the point his fancy did affect, 
 
 Convinced, indeed, that he had much to learn 
 
 Before he saw the beacon-lights reflect, 
 That on the coast of pure enjoyment burn, 
 
 When, lost in reverie, his reason fled, 
 
 He found himself down cellar on his head. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 A cellar doorway, though a fearful trap, 
 
 Affords a cautionary moral, clear, 
 To every visionary, dreamy chap, 
 
 Impelled by contemplation high or beer, 
 To heed his steps, lest they should chance, mayhap, 
 
 To lead him, witless, into trouble drear. ^ 
 Although tis well uplifted gaze to show, 
 We should have half an eye for. things below. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And the good doctor lay a moment thus, 
 
 Not knowing how or why he should be there, 
 
 The world all muddled in a precious muss, 
 Concerning which % he didn t know nor care; 
 
 And then he rose, and said, " Ridiculous ! " 
 Running his fingers through his matted hair, 
 
 In which confused and much-mixed-up condition, 
 
 He felt just fit to be a politician. 
 
THE MODEEN SYNTAX, 137 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 In politics the doctor took a stand, 
 And blurted with an unremitting zeal, 
 
 Retailing dogmas up and down the land, 
 Professing earnestly the public weal ; 
 
 Condemning all who, on the other hand, 
 Chanced differently regarding them to feel, 
 
 And was a cog-wheel active as could be 
 
 In the great whirl of party enginery. 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 As legislator, in the town and state, 
 
 Across the stage with giant steps he strode ; 
 
 His was the dictum on which hung the fate 
 Of mighty hobbies that the lobby rode ; 
 
 He took 110 bribes his act to compensate, 
 
 And voted as the "greatest good" was showed ; 
 
 Bich only in the sense of duty done, 
 
 And certain gifts his self-denial won. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Strange fancy his who seeks in politics 
 For happiness ; as well might he essay 
 
 To honey find in husks, or oil in bricks, 
 Or new potatoes in New England May ; 
 
 His chiefest recompense the meed of kicks 
 Constituents ungrateful always pay, 
 
 And find he s purchased, when it is too late, 
 
 A tiny whistle at a monstrous rate. 
 
138 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWOHK. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Sure delectation must be found in Fame, 
 
 As Solomon had said twas more than riches ; 
 
 And so his sail he spread to catch a name, 
 
 Courting each breeze to draw and test its stitches ; 
 
 His name appeared, with eulogy aflame, 
 
 And all the slabber that the vain bewitches; 
 
 Besides, his face graced each pictorial journal, 
 
 With praise or blame allied alike infernal. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 He talked his mouth for fame in every place, 
 Was always found, wherever wished or not ; 
 
 From a street-corner speech to saying grace 
 He rose to the occasion piping hot ; 
 
 Sometimes a slap he d welcome in the face, 
 And a nose-pulling now and then he got; 
 
 But all such favors helped his little game 
 
 To win the " glittering height " on which was fame. 
 
 XL. 
 
 His head grew dizzy on his lofty perch, 
 His reputation mere factitious show, 
 
 And, like a weather-vane upon a church, 
 
 He turned just as the fickle wind might blow, 
 
 Till counter breezes gave a sudden lurch, 
 
 And down he came mong common folks below, 
 
 The ridicule of every humble eye 
 
 The golden cynosure but gilt, brought nigh. 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 139 
 
 XLI. 
 
 For fame he d sacrificed all thoughts of peace ; 
 
 .Had found antagonism everywhere ; 
 Had lied and swore his chances to increase ; 
 
 Had tried philanthropy, and wore long hair ; 
 For every wheel he had the needed grease ; 
 
 Tn every public movement had a share j 
 Denied himself all comfort for a name ; 
 " And this," said he, is all there is of fame ! " 
 
 XLII. 
 
 In wit s display he next great effort made, 
 
 And searched the dictionary through for puns, 
 
 While such extreme abandon he displayed, 
 
 His jokes popped off as though they had been guns ; 
 
 Grave people all around him were afraid, 
 
 And gainst his influence bewared their sons, 
 
 Bidding them think their sires. ne er acted thus, 
 
 And calling him " disreputable cus- 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Tomer" which softens some the verbal force 
 Like the old clergyman of whom they tell, 
 
 Who, vainly trying to secure his horse, 
 By his momentum in the brambles fell ; 
 
 And, angered thereat, made the mattter worse 
 By shouting out vehemently, " hell ! " 
 
 But seeing in an instant his offence, 
 
 " Lelujah " added, which quite changed the sense. 
 
140 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 XLIY. 
 
 The doctor made a laugh where er he went 
 He had no scruple thus to serve them so ; 
 
 Even a funeral scene could not prevent, 
 And where an undertaker had to go, 
 
 His mates such unction to the season lent, 
 
 He said, " What sprit de corpse these folks do show ! 
 
 ? Twas villanous, but those the rue that quaffed 
 
 Looked through their sables and at Spooner laughed. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 The Lecture Bureaus then must have him out, 
 And curious people came from far and near, 
 
 With buttons sewed on more than extra stout, 
 Fearing to burst them with the fun they r d hear j 
 
 He heard, one side, the injudicious shout, 
 But something like a groan filled t other ear; 
 
 Snowed in and criticised, self-reproved and weary, 
 
 He felt, as did admiring friends, twas dreary. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 And next in Fashion s walks the doctor pressed, 
 And clothed himself in most approved attire, 
 
 With brainless glorying at being dressed 
 Up to the standard that the modes require ; 
 
 From hat to boots resplendent as the best, 
 With but to shine the limit of desire ; 
 
 And every one inferred, who chose to scan, 
 
 That Dr. Spooner was a " killing man " ! 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX, 141 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 But then the thought upon his senses stole, 
 
 " What am I but an ape ? though not so mean 
 
 Is mine as Darwin says was man s first role 
 Before the footlights of this earthly scene, 
 
 The copy hut of others, with a soul 
 
 That grasps infinitude too grand, I ween, 
 
 To spend its faculties in such base use 
 
 As hatching goslings from a tailor s goose." 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 " This, then, is evident," he further mused, * 
 " That delectation does not come to those 
 
 Who spend their strength in attributes abused, 
 Or ripen into gorgeousness of clo es ; 
 
 Neither to those with qualities unused, 
 Who dawdle, to day s dying, in a doze ; 
 
 But unto those who try, by work or wit, 
 
 The world s great family to benefit." 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 In gentle recreation did he strive, 
 
 Attending all the small fetes that were going ; 
 Wae great at fairs, where ladies so contrive 
 
 To keep the cream of human kindness flowing ; 
 Tried summer picnics with their glee alive, 
 
 That such a wealth of promises were showing ; 
 Joined social clubs and literary coteries, 
 And took a stand high up niong Pleasure s votaries. 
 
142 PABTINGTONIAN PATCH WORK. 
 
 L. 
 
 Thin dissipations, such as these, at besty 
 Gave little recompense to his ambition j 
 
 He seaward turned, and on the ocean s breast 
 He thought he saw his ardent hope s fruition ; 
 
 He sang sea-songs, and " Heave ho d " with the rest, 
 But found the sea unsteady in position ; 
 
 He didn t relish his first evening s supper, 
 
 And closed his " Heave ho s" in the leeward scupper. 
 
 LI. 
 
 He murmured faintly, " Please set me on shore ; 
 
 I love the grand and ever-restless ocean, 
 But I believe that I can love it more 
 
 On tvrrafirma, where, unfelt its motion, 
 I can delight to hear its mighty roar, 
 
 And throw myself with rapturous devotion ; 
 But here, alas ! the power that rules the sea 
 Rules it too crookedly by far for me. 
 
 LIT. 
 
 Then Dr. Spooner ventured into trade, ^ 
 
 And learned to buy and sell with ready art ; 
 
 He many paying operations made, 
 
 And got the trick of traffic all by heart ; 
 
 So shrewd was he in action he displayed, 
 He won the fame of being " devilish smart," 
 
 Which means well, any thing respectable 
 
 But found that trade was far from the delectable. 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 143 
 
 LIII. 
 
 It would have done you good to hear him lie 
 Or froze your blood just as you felt inclined ; 
 
 He d swear that black was white a trade to tie, 
 And all so plausible, that caution, blind, 
 
 Took stock at once, without a how ? or why ? 
 Such marvellous integrity to find ; 
 
 And then he slapped his pockets, well content 
 
 That he had made a mighty big per cent. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 " Mercantile shrewdness," though it fleece and skin, 
 Is ne er dishonest by the rules of trade, 
 
 And those who deepest plunge and largest win 
 Sleep lightest on the bargains they have made; 
 
 Conscience to such makes no unpleasant* din, 
 And, at the future not one whit dismayed, 
 
 They " will " their wealth with most complacent air, 
 
 And lay them down the just s reward to share. 
 
 LV. 
 
 To Education then the doctor flew, 
 
 The very field for happiness, he thought ; 
 
 The total that he guessed, and what he knew, 
 Were into active requisition brought ; 
 
 He went to all Conventions with a gout 
 That was a substitute for what he sought, 
 
 And, being quite a favorite in the city, 
 
 They made him member of the School Committee. 
 
144 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Then pleasure turned to business early, late, 
 His door-bell rang with clamorous appeal, 
 
 Permits to grant, parental doubts to bate, 
 Teachers to hear, vexatious feuds to heal, 
 
 New books to choose, the salaries to rate, 
 The pangs of interrupted peace to feel, 
 
 The public growling in its discontent, 
 
 And watching, lynx-eyed, each invested cent. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 With not a chance to steal, and snubbed and bored, 
 
 His privacy invaded as a right ; 
 His motives doubted and his claim ignored, 
 
 His life a constant, ignominious fight ; 
 The slave of school-book agencies, that poured 
 
 Their arguments so thick, that, vanquished quite, 
 He vowed no more his soul with such to vex, 
 Then "handed in " his thin official "checks." 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 The doctor next dipped fiercely into morals, 
 
 Went regularly every morn to prayer ; 
 Mixed earnestly in theologic quarrels, 
 
 Where men for truth s sake pulled each other s hair ; 
 Had for all ill the formulaic abhorrals, 
 
 Two words, I think, you ll not find anywhere, 
 Struck for hair-splitting dogmas left and right, 
 And deemed that he was " fighting the good fight." 
 
THE MODEKN SYNTAX. 145 
 
 LIX. 
 
 He drew his skirts aside when others passed 
 Of different belief from that he held; 
 
 He fanned dissension with persistent blast, 
 And with a Pharisaic rapture swelled ; 
 
 He d gained perfection in belief at last, 
 And, from his lofty perch, all else beheld 
 
 In darkness lost salvation s chances slim 
 
 But he was safe, and what were they to him ? 
 
 LX. 
 
 Small delectation could he find herein, 
 And worry of contention grayed his hair; 
 
 He d searched in every other one for sin, 
 And looked within to find it rampant there: 
 
 He d thought through self-perfection bliss to win, 
 But saw its fallacy in half-despair, 
 
 And then backed out, not finding what he d fain, 
 
 Placing his baggage on some other train. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 He d be a Mason : surely he could find 
 
 Within those ancient halls the thing he sought; 
 
 It seemed delightful to his ardent mind 
 
 That happiness, like onions, could be bought ; 
 
 And so he acted as he felt inclined, 
 
 And soon was to the ancient gridiron brought, 
 
 Seeking for blissfulness one seldom sees, 
 
 As lawyers get to heaven, by degrees. 
 13 
 
146 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOBK. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 He spread himself on mystic pins and seals, 
 And knew more signs than doth the Zodiac ; 
 
 "Was letter-perfect in the springs and wheels 
 Of night-trains running the mysterious track; 
 
 Took every step the Order s scope reveals, 
 Until, from the "ineffable" looking back, 
 
 He wept, like what s his name, who lived of yore, 
 
 Because he couldn t master something more. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Then Dr. Spotfner took to rural shades, 
 
 And dressed himself in most unique attire, 
 
 A costume something like the knave of spades , 
 As odd as piscator could e er desire ; 
 
 And then he followed brooks through grassy glades 
 To catch the trouts that epicures admire" ; 
 
 But ne er could he by any subtle crook 
 
 Induce the fry to bite his baitless hook. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 He sought dim nooks by water s babbling streams, 
 He breathed the sweet " balm of a thousand flowers," 
 
 He laid him on the emerald sward for dreams, 
 He hid himself within the woods deep bowers, 
 
 He revelled in the morning s opening beams, 
 
 He sweltered through the sultry evening hours 
 
 Poisoned by dogwood, bit by bugs and flies, 
 
 He fled from happiness neath rural skies. 
 
THE MODERN SYNTAX. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 And then despairingly he made complaint : 
 <e Oh ! who can tell me where is happiness ? 
 
 With much endeavor I am worn and faint, 
 And each step seems to show the progress less 
 
 In striving for that boon which hope did paint, 
 Which seems more distant as my steps I press. 
 
 Tell me, ye wise ones, in earth s mighty bound, 
 
 Where, tell me where, may happiness be found ? " 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 " Here stay your steps, my boy," a veteran spoke ; 
 
 "I m just the chap lUpoint you to the spot ; 
 I ve sought for happiness through fire and smoke 
 
 My brierwood pipe and here is where I ve got : 
 The search for happiness is but a joke, 
 
 For which you needn t go all round the lot ; 
 I ll ease your caput of its great quandary 
 For delectation see the dictionary." 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Then laughed aloud that execrable hind, 
 
 While Dr. Spooner turned in strong disgust. 
 
 But as he thought of it, he felt inclined 
 
 To think the rough man s ribaldry was just; 
 
 For to himself he said, " I nowhere find 
 The delectation of my hope and trust 
 
 But in the book ; and therefore I will wait, 
 
 And let tMngs happen as it pleases fate. 
 
148 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 * 
 
 And then he took things as they came about, 
 NOT strove from fate his happiness to wring; 
 
 At unpropitious luck he made no rout, 
 
 But was serene as when joy s birds did sing, 
 
 And in contentedness of purpose stout, 
 
 He foud himself as " happy as a king," 
 
 Feeling true delectation did not rest 
 
 On any thing outside the seeker s breast. 
 
 NOTE. The author read the foregoing to a young and charming 
 critic, who had just completed the ecstatic story of " The Bloody 
 Hand, or the Avenger of Darrville ; " and she immediately suggested 
 that if Dr. Spooner had found some amiable being worthy of his 
 choice, as in the instance of which she had just read, he would 
 undoubtedly have found the happiness he sought. It seemed to- 
 her that he had thrown away a great deal of valuable time. 
 
ORACULAR PEARLS. 
 
 BY MRS. P. 
 
 13* 
 
STRIPPINGS. 
 
 AFTER the great thunder-storm that shook things up so 
 a neighbor came in with her face clothed in wonder. She 
 sank into a seat, fanning herself; and after recovering her 
 breath, which threatened to leave her, she said, 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Partington, did you ever ? " 
 
 Mrs. P. looked at her as if wondering whether she ever 
 did or not, but waited further development. 
 
 " Don t you think," the visitor continued, " that our neigh 
 bor Goggles was struck down by the lightning, and was car 
 ried into his house in an incomprehensible condition ! 
 
 " Indeed ! was he ? " said Mrs. P. 
 
 " Yes ; he was standing in a doorway, when the light 
 ning came down, throwing him to the ground ; and he swal 
 lowed a pint of the fluid, the} - think." 
 
 " You don t say so ! " ejaculated the dame, notwithstand 
 ing the neighbor had just said so, and made a sort of men 
 tal calculation while tapping her snuff-box reflectively. 
 "A pint!" she said, at length; "well, it must have been 
 stronger than any fluid they have round here, for a pint 
 of no other kind could ever have served him so. It shows 
 what a difference there is betwixt Jersey lightning and the 
 real article, and should be a warning to him as long as he 
 lives." 
 
 J51 
 
152 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 They talked it over between them, with an accompani 
 ment by Ike on a sheet of zinc, in attempted imitation of 
 the thunder. 
 
 n. 
 
 "POLITICAL canvass ! " said Mrs. Partington, as she read 
 the accounts, in the papers, of party engineering in num 
 bering the clans. " What can they be going to do with it, 
 I wonder ? " 
 
 " I know," cried Ike, looking up from the floor where he 
 was framing a kite with two of her best curtain sticks. 
 
 "What?" she asked. 
 
 " They are going to canvass the State with it," he replied. 
 
 " That may do very well for hams," said she ; " but for 
 the State twould be ridiculous. I wonder now if these 
 breaches of political faith that we see advertised in print, 
 are not made out of it ; and it must be poor stuff, that 
 gives way so easy. If it is cheaper than satanet, it may 
 do for the straightened Democrats, poor creaturs, who 
 have so little to bless themselves with." 
 
 " Political canvass," said the schoolmaster, who had come 
 in and heard, unperceived, the most of her soliloquy, "is 
 simply the count of political noses, in trying to find out 
 how many are going to vote for certain parties." 
 
 " Ah ! thank you," said she, as she sniffed up a few titil 
 lating grains of fragrant rappee; "is that it? Well, peo 
 ple use such strange terms that it is hard to understand, 
 sometimes. But it is just as well, perhaps ; at any rate, a 
 mistake is no haystack, as Paul used to say, which is un 
 fortunate with hay at forty dollars a ton." 
 
ORACULAR PEARLS. 153 
 
 III. 
 
 " IF any one understands tire anathema of a turkey, they 
 can desecrate it better," said Mrs. Partington, as she stood, 
 carving-knife in hand, endeavoring to make her way through 
 the bones and muscles of a veteran of the gobbler species. 
 The connections would not sever, and in vain the guests 
 waited. 
 
 " I think anathema would do some good," responded 
 Dr. Spooner, smilingly j " at any rate, I think I should 
 try it." 
 
 "Dear me!" she continued, still persevering in her 
 efforts ; " did anybody ever see such a provoking thing ? 
 The butcher said it would be a good, serviceable bird, and 
 I declare it is as tough as a blacksmith s apron. I wish 
 everybody had it." 
 
 "And yet," said Old Roger, "although it is so tough, 
 there is, I should judge, considerable tendonness about it," 
 winking at the company. 
 
 " It may be," replied she, " in further than I have got ; 
 but the elementary apparatuses that can digest this must 
 be like that of the oyster of the desert, that they say can 
 eat nails and such things with the greatest felicity." 
 
 The afternoon was devoted to riving the turkey, but Ike 
 made it up in the small matters. 
 
154 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 IV. 
 
 IKE rushed in one day, with his eyes opened to their 
 widest, and threw his cap into a pan of custard pudding 
 that Mrs. Partington had just prepared for baking. 
 
 " Do be careful, dear ! " said Mrs. P., extricating the cap,- 
 and shaking off the accruing matter. " There s your new 
 cap, now, completely satiated with custard ! " 
 
 u I wish I could be," muttered the boy. Then he broke 
 out with, " Oh, Pve seen such a sight ! I just saw a woman 
 go by here with more n fifty pounds of hair on her head ! " 
 
 Don t say that," replied Mrs. P., severely; "that is a 
 falsehood, which isn t any better than lying ; and though 
 some say such things with impurity, I cannot allow it. I 
 know the chinyons and the waterfowls are large enough, 
 but fifty pounds is impossible. You should not say so, be 
 cause you remember how Hannah Nyas and Sophia were 
 struck dead for lying ; and, though .very few have suffered 
 so sence, it isn t because they don t deserve it, inercy 
 knows, but because there s so many of em that there 
 wouldn t be any left." 
 
 " It isn t a lie, neither," said Ike. " She did have fifty 
 pounds of hair on her head." 
 
 Mrs. Partington turned on him the burning disk of her 
 large round spectacles. There was a concentration of re 
 buke in the look she gave. Her finger was raised like the 
 note of wonder. 
 
 "This is original sin, total depravity, and close com 
 munion all together," said she with a tone of horror. 
 
 " I did see it," he repeated. " Twas a woman who had 
 been picking hair, and was carrying it home in a bag on 
 her head." 
 
 She smiled forgiveness, and the custards were a success. 
 
ORACULAR PEARLS. 155 
 
 V. 
 
 " WHAT a label it is upon the character of Boston ! " said 
 Mrs. Partington, as she read a speech on the liquor bill 
 that reflected on Boston. " There is no place where be 
 nevolence is so aperient as here. For my part I don t 
 know where so much is done for the suffering, and any 
 body can see it that can read, for how often we see free 
 lunch/ in the windows of our humane institutions ! You 
 never see sich things in the country, as much better as 
 they think themselves." 
 
 Mrs. Partiugton paused, looking over the top of the pa 
 per at the country member, as though she were resting her 
 gaze there preparatory to making another shot, while Ike 
 sat on the floor, lathering the cat with, raw custard. 
 
 VI. 
 
 "I HAVE never liked Prussia," said Mrs. Partington, 
 " since a peddler swingled me in selling me some blue clay 
 for Prussian blue ; and as for the war, I have no doubt 
 that General Benzine will take spots out of em, to say 
 nothing of General Troches, who will undoubtedly realize 
 all the expectorations of the French people." 
 
 The old lady carried the matter no further, except to 
 deprecate the war that was so destructive to life and pa 
 tience in trying to make out the reports, while Ike was 
 taking French and Prussian towns, made of the house 
 hold effects, alternately, upon the floor. 
 
156 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " ARE you in favor of the prohibitive law, or the license 
 law ? " asked her opposite neighbor of the relict of P. P., 
 Corporal of the " Bloody Leventh." 
 
 She carefully weighed the question, as though *she were 
 selling snuff, and answered, 
 
 " Sometimes I think I am, and then again I think I am 
 not." 
 
 Her neighbor was perplexed, and repeated the question, 
 varying it a little. 
 
 " Have you seen the Mrs. Partington Twilight Soap ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Yes," was the reply ; " everybody has seen that ; but 
 why ? " 
 
 " Because," said the dame, " it has two sides to it, and it 
 is hard to choose between em. Now here are my two 
 neighbors, contagious to me on both sides one goes for 
 probation, t other for licentiousness ; and I think the best 
 thing for me is to keep nuisance."" 
 
 She meant neutral, of course. The neighbor admired, 
 and smiled, while Ike lay on the floor, with his legs in the 
 air, trying to balance Mrs. Partington s fancy waiter on 
 his toe. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " THE mortification of the nincom tax," said Mrs. Par 
 tington, as she heard Ike read that it was to be modified, 
 her countenance revealing in its expression the depths 
 that lay below, " is just what people are complaining about, 
 and gracious knows it is bad enough without making it 
 more mortifying ; for a good many nincoms can t stand it, 
 
OEACULAK PEAELS. 157 
 
 and so get exemptied, and don t have any thing at all when 
 the tax impostures come round, which is very mortifying, 
 undoubtedly, to them, where they would like to swell the 
 government coiffures, as good .loyal citizens. But I de 
 clare, though I don t hold any mosity against the ones who 
 tax, because, like punishment, it is for our good, it 
 does seem hard to tax a widow s might to raise enough to 
 pay a nincom on three dollars, which is about as much 
 mortification as an assessor can cause, and I should like to 
 tell em so." 
 
 " But," said Ike, thrusting in his oar, which, like a crow 
 bar among cog-wheels, caused the machine to come to a 
 sudden stand-still, " this isn t a mortification at all ; tis a 
 modification m, o, d, mod." 
 
 " No matter, dear, however it may be spelt," said she, 
 pausing a moment to balance her answer, like a javelin, 
 before hurling it, " nor what it may mean ; it is the same 
 old imposition, any way, and all are nincoms if they don t 
 complain about it." 
 
 She ran down here, like a jolly old clock, while Ike em 
 ployed himself by filling the sails of an improvised boat 
 in the milk-pan with the bellows. 
 
 IX. 
 
 CHRISTMAS Ike was made the happy possessor of a fid 
 dle, which he found in the morning near his stocking. 
 
 " Has he got a musical bent ? " Banfield asked, of whom 
 Mrs. Partington was buying the instrument. 
 
 " Bent, indeed ! " said she ; " no, he s as straight as an 
 error." 
 
 He explained by repeating the question regarding his 
 musical inclination. 
 
 14 
 
158 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Yes," she replied ; he s dreadfully inclined to music 
 since he had a drum, and I want the fiddle to see if I can t 
 make another Pickaninny or an Old Bull of him. Jews- 
 harps is simple, though I can t see how King David played 
 on one of em, and sung his psalms at the same time ; but 
 the fiddle is best, because genius can show itself plainer on 
 it without much noise. Some prefers a violeen ; but I don t 
 know." 
 
 The fiddle was well improved, till the horsehair all pulled 
 out of the bow, and it was then twisted up into a fish-line. 
 
 "YouR neighbor Kloots has grown quite obese," said 
 the schoolmaster to Mrs. Partington, as they sat by the 
 window. 
 
 Mrs. Partington greatly deprecated any ill remark about 
 any one, and she heard the observation in silence, until the 
 schoolmaster continued, 
 
 " Don t you think so ? " 
 
 " Why, as to his being a beastj" replied she, "I am not 
 willing to say, though some say he is very glutinous in his 
 habits, and sometimes is indicted to steamiousness ; but 
 there is nothing harmonious about him thakl know of; so 
 I should be loath to call him so. The least we say is soon 
 est mended, and none of us are any better than we ought 
 to be, with corruption without and temptation within, and 
 the Lord knows what, to disturb our equal Abraham, and 
 bring us down all of a sudden, as Mr. Buss cut his leg " 
 
 " I meant fat obese fat, madam," said the school 
 master. 
 
 " Well," she replied, " perhaps he is, which you might 
 have said so at first ; but that has no weight against his 
 
OKACULAR PEARLS. 159 
 
 character, that I know of if he came honestly by it, which 
 is none of my business." 
 
 The rebuke was well received, and Ike, who had lis 
 tened attentively, drew with charcoal the picture of a fat 
 man on the white closet door. 
 
 XI. 
 
 "OuR Indian Relations !" said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 read such telegraphic head in her paper ; " well, I wonder 
 what they will trump up next ! Our Indian relations, in 
 deed ! for my part I never shall allow that they are rela 
 tions of mine, the red-skinned vagabones. I know they 
 are apt to call the president their Great Eather, which is a 
 scandal and a shame, I dare say ; but that is no reason 
 why we should be called their relations, of which we 
 have enough already that are white, though some are 
 not so respectable that we can brag much about em. It 
 is constitutional and proper to take the black man as a 
 brother, and giving him the right of suffering with the rest 
 of us ; he isn t so bad in any thing but color, and useful in a 
 window-washing point of view ; but these red skins as re 
 lations ! It makes my blood boil to think of it." She 
 fanned herself vigorously with a long-handled dipper, as 
 Ike took up the paper, which had fallen on the floor. " It 
 don t mean relations," said he " that come to see you and 
 stay till you get tired of em. Tis only the way things 
 stand betwixt Indians and the government." " Is that 
 all?" she said, smilingly; "well, I wish the papers would 
 be a little more obscure in stating a thing." Ike went out 
 impressed with the importance of knowing a great deal, and 
 lost all his marbles at " in the ring " before he came in. 
 
160 PAHTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XII. 
 
 IT was suggested in the Boston Medical Journal that 
 May-day be observed on the fifteenth instead of the firs 
 of the month, on account of the coldness of the latter in 
 our latitude, and the danger to the children, who will 
 parade, weather or no. "Bless their little hearts! 7 said 
 Mrs. Partington, meaning the children to whom the para 
 graph referred ; "it is a spettacle to see their arms blue as 
 gold fishes, with chaplains of paper roses round their 
 heads, and their noses as red the little dears as lob 
 ster sallet. I do hope they will differ it, I m shore, for I 
 always said May had got turned hind part afore, or that 
 there was something wrong about it, I couldn t tell which, 
 and I am glad folks are becoming conscientious of the fact. 
 Putting it in the middle of the month, twon t make no 
 difference which end comes first, and it will be such a 
 relief to the poor children who go out to pick violence and 
 roses on the first of May, and get brown- critters in their 
 throats and newrology in their limbs. To say nothing of 
 the young people who ride on horseback, like turtle doves, 
 out of town to breakfast, and take cold and die early and 
 often, and " 
 
 " Where s my marbles ? " said Ike, pulling out a drawer, 
 and throwing the contents in a chair. 
 
 "Don t be so hasty," said she, interrupted in her May 
 day reflections as a stream may be by an invidious fall of 
 earth, and she hastened to preserve order, and find the 
 alleys, but there were none ; and he went to bed to dream 
 of a five-cent investment in twozers next morning. The 
 thread of May-day was broken, and Mrs. Partington 
 subsided into her knitting. 
 
ORACULAR PEARLS. 161 
 
 XIII. 
 
 "WHAT is the matter ?" said Mrs. Partington, as she 
 passed by the corner of Hamilton Place on the morning 
 the tickets were sold to Mr. Dickens s readings ; " what is 
 the possession forming for ? " 
 
 There was a human lining to the whole of Hamilton 
 Place, and she had taken it for a procession. 
 
 " Dickens," was the reply. 
 
 " The Dickens it is ! " she replied, contemplatively ; " and 
 right opposite the Park Street Church, too, where the truth is 
 dispensed with every Sunday ; and goodness knows there s 
 no use to run after the Dickens, when he is always so 
 ready to come at any one s beck and call. But things 
 have changed, to be sure, and a good coat covers up the 
 original sin of tail, and the cloven foot is not visible in 
 No. 8 boots." 
 
 "This isn t the old fellow," said a struggler; "this is a 
 horse of quite another color, mem." 
 
 " I don t care what sort of a color he is," replied she, 
 " though the original black was respectable ; and they do say 
 he keeps it up in some societies where it is necessary to 
 preserve appearance, and touches the young ladies white 
 shoulders with a hand as soft as velvet ; but I don t know. 
 At least he s bad enough in whatever dress heicomes, or 
 no dress, for that matter; and Heaven knows we must 
 watch him who goes about seeking whom he may devour 
 somebody." 
 
 " He means Charles Dickens," said Dr. Spooner, who 
 was by her side, " the writer who " He proceeded 
 with a long panegyric, which it is needless to repeat, to 
 which she responded with a long " Oh ! " like a distended 
 hoop, as if it were a relief at being extricated from her 
 
162 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 dilemma, while the crowd moved on to get their tickets. 
 Ike was making motions to all of the cars to stop, and 
 more than twenty drivers shook their whips at him. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 " DEAR me ! " said Mrs. Partington, as she swept three 
 tea-cups from the table in an herculean effort to annihilate 
 a fly that was buzzing round her head. " Dear me ! I 
 don t see what they were made for. Sich an annoyance to 
 one, to say nothing of the pieces ! and goodness knows if 
 my life isn t tormented out of me by em, getting into the 
 molasses jug, and covering every thing with perfect impu 
 rity, for we can t help ourselves, and taking sich freedom 
 with us that they go into our mouths and noses, which is 
 not pleasant, though when mixed with huckleberries it 
 doesn t make much difference in cake. It does seem to 
 me a great waste of time and material to make em." 
 
 " But," said Dr. Spooner, " flies were not made in vain. 
 They are undoubtedly a species of humble scavenger, tak 
 ing up the offal, as it were, in the atmosphere, that but for 
 them might induce disease." 
 
 " That may be so," replied she, calmly. " I don t want to 
 find no fault with Providence ; but they are awful troubles, 
 if that s what you mean ; and as for the disease, I ll risk it 
 without em." 
 
 There was determination in her eye, and a wet towel in 
 her hand as she said this, and every observing fly would 
 have made himself scarce at once ; but many that night 
 failed to answer at roll call. Ike puzzled Dr. Spooner by 
 asking him if tempusfugit didn t mean fly time. 
 
ORACULAR PEARLS. 163 
 
 XV. 
 
 " HAVE you got any consecrated lye ? " asked Mrs. Par- 
 tington of the druggist, during anniversary season. " No," 
 replied he, winking at his chief clerk, " hut you can get it 
 anywheres round here all this week." " Indeed ! " she 
 continued ; " is it so common as that ? I thought only the 
 pothecaries had it. But no matter. I dare say it isn t any 
 hetter than the old kind, for a lye is a lye, any way, 
 whether tis consecrated or not ; for the purification is 
 what is wanted, and a lye well stuck to will be jest as well, 
 if the clothes is clean ; that s what s looked at, and the 
 lye isn t thought of. I dare say you haven t got any dese 
 crated cod-fish, either ? You haven t ? I thought so, 
 though some ain t so particular. They ll desecrate any thing 
 for money ; and what else can you expect when everybody 
 seems to be coveting his neighbor s goods ? and Heaven 
 knows where it will end, with beefsteak forty cents a 
 pound, which John Rogers himself couldn t have stood. 
 Why, Isaac ! " The remark was caused by Ike, who 
 stood practising hydrostatics by douching the flies on the 
 wall with a new syringe. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 "How limpid you walk ! " said a voice behind us, as we 
 were making a hundred and fifty horse-power effort to 
 reach a table whereon reposed a volume of Bacon. " What 
 is the cause of your lameness ? " It was Mrs. Partington s 
 voice that spoke, and Mrs. Partington s eyes that met the 
 glance we returned over our left shoulder. " Gout/ said 
 we, briefly, almost surlily. " Dear me," said she ; " you are 
 highly flavored ! It was only rich people and epicacs in 
 
164 PAKT^GTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 living that had t! e gout in olden times." " Ah ! " we 
 growled, partly in response, and partly with an infernal 
 twinge. "Poor sou . ! " she continued, with commiseration, 
 like an anodyne, in the tones of her voice ; " the best rem 
 edy I know for it is an embarkation of Roman wormwood 
 and lobelia for the part infected, though some say a cran 
 berry poultice is best ; but I believe the cranberries is for 
 erisipilis, and whether either of em is a rostrum for the 
 gout or not, I really don t know. If it was a fraction of 
 the arm, I could jest know what to subscribe." We looked 
 into her eye with a determination to say something severely 
 bitter, becau.se we felt allopathic just then; but the kind 
 and sympathizing look that met our own disarmed sever 
 ity, and sinking into a seat with our coveted Bacon, we 
 thanked her. It was very evident, all the while that sTie, 
 or they, staid, that Ike was seeing how near he could 
 come to our lame member, and not touch it. He did touch 
 it sometimes, but those didn t count. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 "Foil pity s sakes, what are you doin ? " said Mrs. Par- 
 tington, as Ike came in, and threw himself forward on his 
 hands, elevating his heels in the air, and foiling against 
 the clean buffet in the corner, his gravelly shoes endanger 
 ing the ancient china ; " what is the meaning of this ? Are 
 your brains so decomposed that you have forgot the end 
 you should keep uppermost ? " 
 
 Ike recovered, and simply said he was trying a little 
 gymnastic exercise. 
 
 "I should think it was nasty exercise," said she, wiping 
 the dirt from the buffet with her apron ; " but you should 
 be keerful. Only think of conjecture of the brain, and see 
 
OKACULAR PEARLS. 165 
 
 how many men kill themselves during operation of mind, 
 and let it be a warning to you. Besides, it isn t pretty nor 
 proper. What should you think of my turning heels over 
 head, now, and cutting up antiques like a circuit rider ? " 
 
 "Bully!" shouted Ike, clapping his hands; "jest try 
 it j you can t do it, I het." 
 
 " I sha n t, you disgraceless hoy ! " said she, blushing to 
 the roots of her cap ; " and if I see you trying any more 
 of your nasty tricks, my shoe shall teach you which end 
 belongs up." 
 
 She looked at him severely, as if she meant it, and the 
 boy went out, appearing as if he were regretting she didn t 
 try the experiment, kicking over the dust barrel on the 
 sidewalk in his effort to jump over it. 
 
 . XVI. 
 
 " IT is roominous enough in here," said Mrs. Partington, 
 as she hung her bandbox and umbrella upon the side of 
 the car on the Eastern Railroad, and took her seat. " I 
 declare, I am very lucky to get so good a seat, when the 
 cars are so crowded by execrationists going to the moun 
 tains or the sea-shore. It is quite ill-convenient to travel 
 at such times ; but with an agreeable company, and a nice 
 car like this, it is very pleasant." 
 
 " This is not an ice car, madam," replied the gentleman 
 to whom she addressed her remark. 
 
 " Well, I must say that tobacco smoke is not so nice as 
 it might be, and I don t think people behave themselves 
 altogether so well as they might who smoke where there 
 is ladies ; but we must take folks as we find ; em." 
 
 " Have a cigar, madam ? " said her acquaintance. 
 
 " No, thank you," she replied, astonished at his audacity, 
 as she saw him rub a match, and light his weed. 
 
166 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Go it alone ! " said a voice behind her. 
 
 " Yes," said she, " I m alone," thinking herself addressed. 
 
 She looked round to see a game of euchre progressing. 
 As Batchelder, the conductor, entered, he saw the black 
 bonnet and the kind eyes, and whispered in her ear, " You 
 are in the smoking-car ; " whereupon she went out, and 
 found her sphere in the next car. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON, speaking of the over-activity of Ike 
 in mischief, says it proceeds " from the axis of fidelity in 
 his system." Heaven bless the boy, then, Mrs. P., and if 
 he has excess of " fidelity " in his system, do not try to 
 reduce it ; for there are so few who are troubled with fidel 
 ity in any form that one so gifted is a rara avis. She 
 meant " excess of vitality." Her rhetoric is far ahead of 
 her grammar. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " ARRANGED for selling liquor ! " said Mrs. Partington, 
 the morning after the arraignment in court of the dealers 
 for sentence. " That s the place for doing things right, 
 and I have always noticed that everybody there is ar 
 ranged for what he does. How many there are arranged 
 for drunkenness, with large swallows, I suppose, every 
 Monday in the court ; and goodness knows where they get 
 their liquor, unless they are arranged for that, too, or 
 somebody arranges it for em, which is impossible, be 
 cause nobody has any to sell, I know, for I wanted some 
 gin to put into camphire for a vortex in my head, and the 
 stationary agent wanted my name, and where I was born, 
 
OKACULAR PEAELS. 167 
 
 and the color of my grandmother s eyes, and I couldn t 
 tell him, and so he wouldn t let me have it ; and there is 
 sich doings ! I suppose I am arranged to go without, and 
 I guess I can." 
 
 She looked rigidly at the profile of the corporal of the 
 Bloody Leventh that hung upon the wall, and thought of 
 the sacrifices he had made to secure liberty, rum in 
 cluded, and she rammed a pinch of snuff home like a 
 cartridge, while Ike, taking a broomstick, charged upon 
 the stove-pipe with a spite that brought it down, and re 
 stored Mrs. Partington to her consciousness, who pursued 
 the boy with her shoe as he darted out of the door. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 i 
 
 " WHAT a large family of daughters he must have ! " 
 said Mrs. Partington, as she read in the papers an account 
 of a marriage at the residence of the bride s father. " I 
 never read a paper that I don t see one of his daughters is 
 married at the old gentleman s house. I m shore I hope 
 they may turn out well, for, though it is very desirous that 
 so many girls should be married off, and become the heads 
 of families, if Heaven should so order it, though it doesn t 
 seem to nowadays, yet it is very essensual that they should 
 be well to do, too, and have something to begin life with. 
 There- is a perfect manammonia among girls to get mar 
 ried; but they marry in haste to repent at leisure, and 
 Heaven knows what an end may be that begins so badly ! 
 I hope the bride s father may have done his duty by pos 
 terity, as well as he has for it, and Solomon himself 
 couldn t have done more, for half that marry nowadays 
 are no more fit for it than they are for preachers, and, in 
 stead of being helpmeets to their husbands, they are more 
 
168 PARTINGTONIAX PATCHWORK. 
 
 likely to help part, sometimes before the honeymoon is 
 over. May Heaven bless us all, for we ar& none of us bet 
 ter than we ought to be, by a great deal." 
 
 Ike sat with a long string, and a piece of meat attached, 
 angling for the cat. 
 
 XX. 
 
 "I VE always noticed," said Mrs. Partington on New 
 Year s Day, dropping her voice to the key that people 
 adopt when they are disposed to be philosophical or moral ; 
 ".I ve always noticed that every year added to a man s life 
 is apt to make him older, just as a man who goes a journey 
 finds, as he jogs on, that every mile he goes brings him 
 nearer where he is going, and farther from where he start 
 ed. I am not so young as I was once, and I don t believe 
 I shall ever be, if I live to the age of Samson, which, 
 Heaven knows as well as I do, I don t want to, for I 
 wouldn t be a centurian or an octagon, and survive my fac 
 tories, and become idiomatic, by any means. But then 
 there is no knowing how. a thing will turn out till it takes 
 place ; and we shall come to an end some day, though we 
 may never live to see it." 
 
 There was a smart tap on the looking-glass that hung 
 upon the wall, followed instantly by another. 
 
 " Gracious ! " said she ; " what s that ? I hope the glass 
 isn t fractioned, for it is a sure sign of calamity, and mercy 
 knows they come along full fast enough without helping 
 em by breaking looking-glasses." 
 
 There was another tap, and she caught sight of a white 
 bean that fell on the floor; and there, reflected in the 
 glass, was the face of Ike, who was blowing beans at the 
 mirror through a crack in the door. 
 
OKACULAR PEARLS. 169 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " As for the Chinese question," said Mrs Partington, re 
 flectively, holding her spoon at " present," while the vapor 
 of her cup of tea curled about her face, which shone through 
 it like the moon through a mist, " it is a great pity that 
 somebody don t answer it, though who under the canister 
 of heaven c*an do it, with sich letters as they have on their 
 tea-chists, is more than I can tell. It is really too bad, 
 though, that some lingister doesn t try it, and not have 
 this provoking question asked all the time, as if we were 
 ignoramuses, and did not know Toolong from No Strong, 
 and there never was sich a thing as the seventh command 
 ment, which, Heaven knows, suits this case to a T, and I 
 hope the breakers of it may escape, but I don t see how 
 they can. The question must be answered, unless it is like 
 a cannondrum, to be given up, which nobody of any spirit 
 should do." 
 
 She brought the spoon down into the cup, and looked 
 out through the windows of her soul into celestial fields, 
 peopled with pig-tails, that were all in her eye, while Ike 
 took a double charge of sugar for his tea, and gave an 
 extra allowance of milk to the kitten. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 TRAMP, tramp, tramp ! Footsteps were heard along the 
 passage-way leading from the gate to Mrs. Partington s 
 back kitchen, ceasing at the word, " Halt ! Dress ! Shoul 
 der arms ! Support arms ! Carry arms ! Charge bayonets ! 
 March ! " said a voice, in a rapid succession of orders. 
 
 Mrs. Partington opened the door at the word march, as Ike 
 15 
 
170 PAETINGTONIAN PATCH WOKK. 
 
 charged through with a wooden gun, made of half a clothes- 
 pole that he had taken for the purpose, and found herself 
 " falling back" hefore the furious assault, not stopping till her 
 main body lighted under the table, her right wing resting in 
 a saucer of milk put there for the cat, and her left much de 
 moralized by a flank blow from the leg of the table. She 
 scrambled to her feet. Ike withdrew his force towards the 
 door. There was a flush upon her cheek, and anger in her 
 eye, as she brought her forefinger up to " present ; " for 
 what elderly lady of propriety and some fat would like to 
 be knocked under a table by a mischievous boy, even to 
 illustrate military science ? 
 
 " What do you mean by doing this, you bad boy ?" said 
 she, as she found her tongue. " Do you think you are a 
 squirmish, that you attack a body in that way ? I ll let 
 you know better, sir, when you go to bed. Dear me, how 
 you have decomposed me ! I come nigh knocking my 
 brains out." 
 
 Seeing that she had not struck her head, it was wonder 
 ful how this could be ; but it was to be pardoned to the 
 excitement of the moment. Ike stood good-naturedly at 
 " shoulder," and then remarked that he was only going 
 through the manual. 
 
 "And what has a boy to do with the man-ual, I d like to 
 know ? " asked the old lady, severely. f tt You d better be 
 a recruet, and done with it, and go to Pamunky Creek, if 
 you want to cut up sich monkey shines." 
 
 "Ilight about, face! March!" said Ike, wheeling to 
 wards the door. 
 
 "Stop!" said Mrs. Partingtonj but Ike .Jiept on. 
 " Stop ! " she repeated ; but he did mot mind. Then her 
 spirit was aroused, and charging after the withdrawing 
 force, she seized him by the arm. " Why don t you stop ? " 
 she cried. 
 
OBACULAK PEABLS. 171 
 
 " The command wasn t right," said Ike ; " it should have 
 been halt. " 
 
 "I ll make you "halt ! " said she, taking off her shoe in 
 anticipation of the sentence of a drum-head court-martial. 
 But, as she raised the shoe, she caught a glimpse of the 
 profile of the Artillery Corporal on the wall in military 
 rigidity, gazing out on nothing, the sword- above it that 
 had flashed over the Beanville muster-field in the Bloody 
 Leventh, and her eye moistened with a new emotion. 
 Gone was her anger, gone the excitement, and gone was 
 Ike, who ran out the back door, and leaped the picket. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 one is exasperated with fatigue," said Mrs. Par- 
 tington, with the ex cathedra touch emphasized by the sus 
 pended silver spoon, " there is nothing that has a more ac 
 celerating effect than a good strong cup of Oblong tea. 
 Besides, there is nothing harmonious in it that will hurt 
 any one, and none of the innovation that one feels who 
 drinks Japan, and keeps jumping up and down all night, 
 like a possessed critter, with no going to sleep till morn 
 ing, and worn out next day so that he can t work, and 
 has to take whiskey to steady his nerves, which is an 
 abomination. There s a great difference in tea, and, though 
 some fancies this and some that, I shall always think the 
 Oblong is best." 
 
 She here ran down, like a Connecticut wooden clock, 
 the spoon still pendent, the steam from her cup rising in a 
 cloud of fragrant whiteness, through which her spectacles 
 gleamed like stars ; and Ike sat with his elbows on the ta 
 ble, and his chin resting on his hands, like a horse-car 
 driver, waiting for her to turn out. 
 
172 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " ARE those the Duchess Dangleworm s pears ? " said 
 Mrs. Partington, as she stopped at the street corner, and 
 " hefted " one of a number marked " 12 cents." 
 
 "No, ma am," was the reply j " them s Easter Beurres." 
 
 " Well," replied she, " I hope Esther will find somebody 
 to buy 7 em at that price ; but I think it is doubtful, they are 
 so very high." 
 
 " Yes m," replied the vender ; "they was raised on very 
 high trees." 
 
 " Ah, thank you," said she. " I declare, it is good as 
 going to an intelligence orifice to meet with such a one as 
 yourself. You ought not to dispense with your wisdom so 
 liberally, because by and by it may give out." 
 
 She turned to go away, but felt that her reticule was 
 heavier than it was, and found that some one had put a 
 large pear in it, a gift, she deemed, from the fruit-vender ; 
 but Ike walked by her side demurely, and she could not 
 see under his cap-visor the fun that was there. He 
 could tell how it came there. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " MRS. PARTINGTON et als ! " said Mrs. P., as Ike read 
 an eulogistic notice of herself and retinue thus headed. 
 " Is that so, Isaac ? " 
 
 " Tain t nothing else," replied he, thrusting the cat s head 
 through the paper, which served as an elaborated choker. 
 
 " Et als ! " mused she. " I never ate als in my life that 
 I know of, though there is so many dishes with new names 
 that one might forget ; em all, unless he is an epicac." 
 
ORACULAR PEARLS. 173 
 
 She turned every thing in her mind to remember what 
 she had eaten, her mind an oven full of turnovers, 
 but it refused to come to her ; and she made a memoran 
 dum by tying a knot in her handkerchief, to call on the 
 editor, and find out about it. Ike sat upon the leaf of the 
 extension-table, swinging his feet beneath it, trying to 
 make a tune out of the creak. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " A SERIOUS RIOT ! " said Mrs. Partington, as her eye 
 rested on such title to a paragraph in a paper. " I won 
 der if it was any thing like the riot in church, where the 
 two ministers tried to read the lethargy in the same pulpit 
 at the same time, and one of em got his surplus torn off 
 by one of the deacons. It is too bad for serious people to 
 do such things ; but it shows how liable we are to get led 
 into deficiency." 
 
 " The serious part of it," said Dr. Spooner, straightening 
 himself up like a rake-handle, "I suspect, is in the magni 
 tude of the act, rather than in the seriousness of the 
 actors," 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied she ; " but I have known the most 
 serious people do as bad as others, going about with the 
 cloak of hypocrisy in their mouths, and pretending they 
 were saints. There are very few we can trust, and who 
 we can put confidence into is a question." 
 
 Dr. Spooner was silent, and Isaac, who was mending a 
 slate-strap with a fork, cried out, loudly, " Bother ! " as the 
 fork went into his finger. This was a diversion, though it 
 was not very diverting to the boy, and the riot was for 
 gotten. 
 
 15* 
 
174 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " HAVE you seena ? " asked Mrs. Partington of the 
 apothecary. 
 
 " Seen whom ? " said he, smiling, as he recognized the 
 dame. 
 
 "Why, seena, to be sure," emphasizing the word, 
 "Seena!" 
 
 " I have not, my dear madam, the least idea of whom 
 you are inquiring ; hut I have seen no one whose presence 
 has given me greater pleasure than your own." 
 
 " Well, certainly," she said, " that s very kind of you ; 
 but I want to know if you have seena f " 
 
 "Madam, I assure you," replied he, despairingly, "th.it 
 I do not know whom you mean. I have seen hundreds, 
 thousands, multitudes, but have not seen her, among them 
 all, that I know of." 
 
 " But you have manners ? " said she ; " and they go to 
 gether." 
 
 " What, in Heaven s name ? " he almost shrieked, start 
 ing the old lady into looking at him anxiously through her 
 " parabolical " spectacles, and drawing Ike away from an at 
 tempt to carom three soap-balls on the counter, to the great 
 amusement of the cat. , 
 
 "Why, seena and manners," replied she, calmly, "for a 
 gentle purgatory." 
 
 "Oh, senna and manna !" he repeated sotto voce, and 
 procured it for her. She went out as gacefully as a sev 
 enty-four, and soon was hull down in the distance. 
 
" - 
 
 MRS. PARTINGTON AND THE APOTHECARY. - Page 174. 
 
NEW AND OLD THINGS 
 
 FEOM MY INKSTAND. 
 
LES MISERABLES. 
 
 A LONG WAY AFTER VICTOR HUGO. 
 
 I. 
 JEAN VALJEAN. 
 
 JEAN VALJEAN 
 A convict had been 
 For nineteen years no freedom had known. 
 When from Toulon released, 
 He was feared as a beast, 
 
 And hooted and hounded from country to town. 
 The fourth day, near 
 To Pontarlier, 
 The place of his destination, 
 He was hungered and sore, 
 But men shut their door, 
 Nor pitied his desolation. 
 Even the dogs their kennels refused 
 To one so vile from bondage loosed, 
 Till, by men and dogs alike abused, 
 He grew savage with desperation. 
 
 NOTE. The writer leaves the pronunciation of certain names to 
 the reader s option j " he pays his money and he takes his choice." 
 
 177 
 
178 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 He swore to himself a bitter prayer, 
 As he passed on through Cathedral Square, 
 And shook his fist at the temple there, 
 As though he thought the church might care ; 
 But it frowned in the dark with a frigid air, 
 Nor heeded his demonstration. 
 With failing strength 
 He fell, at length, 
 By a very strange fatality, 
 At a printer s door, 
 The w r hole world o er 
 The hiding-place, on every shore, 
 Of wisdom and morality. 
 
 Not a single crumb had he to eat 
 
 He couldn t buy of bread or meat, 
 
 For the shops were shut along the street, 
 And he fain would sleep, 
 In its silence deep, 
 
 Forgetting his stinted rations ; 
 
 When a woman, tis always thus I think, 
 That, just as we re going to take a wink, 
 And our eyelids peacefully gin to sink, 
 The woman makes our tempers kink 
 
 With sharp interrogations, 
 
 A woman saw his sorry plight, 
 
 Asleep in the street on a stone by night, 
 
 A singular couch for one not tight ; 
 
 So she spoke to him as a Christian might, 
 
 And then he surlily told her 
 
 That he was a soldier in distress 
 A claim that always its way must press ; 
 We every day its power confess, 
 And do our best to aid and bless, 
 
 And never turn cold shoulder. 
 
JEAN VALJEAN. 179 
 
 She heard and pitied the worthless scamp. 
 He swore he hadn t a postage stamp, 
 Had sought each door on a bootless tramp. 
 She said he mustn t lie in the damp, 
 
 A victim of Fortune s malice, 
 But gave him twopence, and bade him go 
 To a house a block along or so, 
 
 Next door to the Bishop s palace. 
 
 Now the Bishop was of men the best, 
 In whom the country round was blest ; 
 A model man, whose every thought 
 With good of his fellow-men was fraught. 
 His soul reflected the beaming love 
 That streams direct from the throne above ; 
 His constant wish to do for others, 
 And held the good and bad as brothers ; 
 He acted without regard of self 
 Gave up all thought of rank or pelf, 
 
 And did his Master s duty ; 
 The poor and needy ones he fed, 
 The languid and the erring led, 
 The strong upon their way were sped, 
 The hearts were soothed that joy had fled, 
 And his tears upon the sorrowing shed 
 
 Sprang up in shapes of beauty. 
 
 With the insolent airs of a surly boor, 
 The loafer opened the Bishop s door j 
 I dare say left his mud on the floor, 
 To the great disgust of Madame Magloire, 
 Leaned on his stick the priest before, 
 
 And told him all his story : 
 Jean Valjean was the name he gave, 
 
180 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 For nineteen years a galley slave ; 
 
 The while he 4. managed a trifle to save, 
 
 Was able to pay for what he might crave, 
 
 Wherein he seemed to glory. 
 The Bishop turned to Madame Magloire, 
 Who had placed for three at table before, 
 And bade her provide for one guest more ; 
 
 At which Jean was astonished. 
 He read to them his yellow pass, 
 A record of fearful crime, alas ! 
 Of all he had done the world to harass 
 A hopeless case for prayer or mass ; 
 He asked for bread and a bed of grass, 
 Nor longer hoped with men to class ; 
 
 But vain was the Bishop admonished. 
 Without opening to Jean his head 
 He bade Magloire put sheets on the bed 
 In the alcove then to the convict said, 
 
 Sit down, sir, by the fire. 
 The man, surprised and wild to hear 
 A word of human love and cheer, 
 Felt, as might be supposed, quite queer, 
 And odd enough in his way did appear, 
 
 But complied with the Bishop s desire. 
 
 The table was set, 
 And round it all met, 
 Jean Valjean on the Bishop s right. 
 The silver forks and spoons of state 
 Were put in honor beside each plate, 
 
 When the Bishop complained of the light. 
 " The silver candlesticks ! " he cried. 
 Twas a matter with him of a little pride 
 To have them lit with a guest by his side j 
 
JEAN VALJEAN. 181 
 
 And Madame Magloire, 
 As she d done before, 
 Obeyed him she d never in thought denied. 
 
 J Twas a goodly feast you may be bound j 
 Magloire a bottle of wine had found, 
 And care in a little while was drowned, 
 
 And the convict was in a bother. 
 Again he told the Bishop his name ; 
 But the Bishop said it was all the same, 
 He felt his sorrow and his shame, 
 He knew his title ere he came, 
 
 And that he told him was " BROTHER." 
 
 Then Jean Valjean went to bed ; 
 
 But wicked thoughts spun through his head, 
 
 The good, and pure, and holy instead. 
 
 At midnight he arose from sleep, 
 
 And round the house like a cat did creep, 
 
 Doing such perfidious works 
 
 Stealing the spoons and stealing the forks, 
 
 Then leaped the window and garden gate, 
 
 And left the Bishop minus his plate ! * 
 
 A wicked wretch, but such must be 
 
 From taking felons and like to tea ! 
 
 So thought Madame Magloire 
 
 And many more, 
 
 But the Bishop smiled more glad than before. 
 They had taken his forks, but he said twas as good 
 To use spoons and forks that were made of wood. 
 
 Jean Valjean was speedily caught, 
 And into the Bishop s presence brought 
 By three gensdarmes they had him, they thought ; 
 IS 
 
182 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 But the Bishop pretended he d given the plate, 
 And told him he needn t have leaped the gate, 
 And wondered by what strange absence of mind 
 He d left his candlesticks behind. 
 
 Jean Valjean here opened his eyes 
 In a wild and undisguised surprise. 
 
 Then the Bishop spoke. " My brother," said he, 
 " You re no more for evil, but good, you see. 
 I ve bought your soul of you, and withdraw 
 It from the imp of perdition s claw, 
 To lift it from the ills of the sod, 
 And give it to the keeping of God." 
 
 A strange, strange trade, 
 As ever was made ; 
 
 But, reader, if you d find the key 
 To open up this mystery, 
 
 I d say, do go 
 
 To Lee and Shepard s, or where you please, 
 And hire or borrow, and read at your ease, 
 
 The book by Victor Hugo. 
 
 II. 
 
 FANTINE. 
 
 Ne er did monarch array his queen 
 Eicher than Hugo did Fantine, 
 
 With pearls of gold 
 
 More manifold 
 
 Than she of Egypt wore of old 
 
FANTINE. 183 
 
 More regal than those of the " Queen of the South/ 
 The gold on her head, the pearls in her mouth. 
 Oh ! she was fair as nymph or fay, 
 And she was sweet as flowers in May, 
 And she was as lithe, as a breeze at play, 
 And she was as mild as a summer day. 
 She was all alone 
 No parents had known, 
 A waif on the world for charity thrown ; 
 A sad, sad doom, 
 For beauty and bloom 
 Immortal seed on a soil of stone ; 
 The fruit of love s unhallowed chrism, 
 Denied the right of blest baptism, 
 
 Left to shame and human blame, 
 That follows the fallen like breath of flame, 
 Called Fantine 
 By herself Fantine 
 Simply because it was her name. 
 
 She knew none else ; twas at her cast, 
 
 Like a bone to a dog, by a beggar who passed 
 
 Twas Fantine only, first and last. 
 
 And Fantine loved ; 
 
 Her heart was moved 
 
 With a love more ardent than approved j 
 " But still it was a love as true 
 
 As e er in human bosom grew, 
 
 Fed by Hymen s sacred dew, 
 
 And i>lest in sacerdotal view ; 
 
 For love is the same in poor and rich, 
 
 Working them up to the self-same pitch, 
 And don t distinguish " t other from which." 
 She loved, with all her little powers 
 
184 PAETIXGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Hungry love that the heart devours 
 A man of wit and ready tin, 
 But soiled "by the world and touch of sin, 
 With carious teeth and a wrinkled skin, 
 And bad digestion how could he win? 
 His eyes were watery, too, and dim, 
 But she saw no blemish at all in him : 
 
 So true to him 
 
 She flew to him, 
 
 And stuck like Hilton s glue to him ! 
 But he, the churl, Fin sorry to say, 
 Didn t love her in that same way. 
 His was a passion a baleful flame, 
 That kindles in fervor and ends in shame ; 
 A blaze that burns with a lurid light, 
 Then leaves a darkness, as black as night, 
 Of broken heart and spirit blight j 
 
 And poor Fantine, 
 
 With anguish keen, 
 Pelt cold desertion s direst harms : 
 
 Her first love flown 
 
 Alone alone 
 Bearing her woe in heart and arms. 
 
 In heaven above or earth below 
 A purer love none e er may know,- 
 Than in the mother s breast doth glow j 
 Irrespective of sin or shame, 
 Glorying still in the mother s name, 
 Nature asserting its holy claim, 
 In fortune s light, 
 In poverty s blight, 
 In sorrow s night, 
 It burns forever and burns the same ; 
 
FANTINE. 185 
 
 And sweet Fantine 
 Loved her poor wean 
 As twere a child of loftier fame. 
 
 On a dusty day 
 
 O er a public way 
 Was Fantine and her child astray, 
 Weary and sad, and most forlorn, 
 Bound for the town where she was born, 
 Hoping an honest living to win, 
 Outside the vortex of deadly sin, 
 When she arrived at a wayside inn. 
 
 ? Twas a queer, old nook, 
 
 With forbidding look ; 
 But there before it, in a swing, 
 Two children, bright as flowers in spring, 
 
 Rocked to and fro, 
 
 While, soft and low, 
 The mother a gentle air did sing ; 
 
 And Fantine felt 
 
 Her motherly heart within her melt, 
 As she looked upon the beautiful thing. 
 The mothers, with a motherly pride, 
 Put their children side by side, 
 
 And poor Fantine, 
 
 As she viewed the scene, 
 Thought of her fatherless babe, and cried. 
 " What will Mrs. Grundy say ? " 
 She said to herself, in a tearful way ; 
 For she dreaded the folk of M. sur M., 
 And dreaded the lies she must tell to them. 
 So she gave up all of her little hoard, 
 And a promise of more than she could afford, 
 In payment for the baby s board ; 
 16* 
 
186 TARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Then witli a htart of grief and pain, 
 And fulling tears, "like summer rain, 
 "With empty pocket and giddy brain, 
 She wandered forth on her walk again, 
 Leaving lier babe, without a fear, 
 With Mr. and. Mrs. Thernardier, 
 By prudent folk considered queer, 
 
 Because Fantine 
 
 Must surely have seen 
 They didn t respectable appear. 
 
 M. Madeleine 
 
 Had made great gain 
 
 By a patient he had chanced obtain ; 
 
 Godsend to those of M. sur M., 
 
 An El Dorado twas to them. 
 
 The little place 
 Grew up apace, 
 Under his grave and watchful care, 
 
 And industry grew, 
 
 And virtue, too, 
 And Fantine found employment there. 
 
 Her toil beguiled 
 
 By thought of her child, 
 That there in the distance lived and smiled. 
 But she kept her story within her breastf, 
 And none her weighty secret guessed. 
 
 But gossips were round, 
 
 They always abound, 
 Like canker worms, to curse the ground, 
 As clearly, in a moral way, 
 As the worms the farmer s hope to-day, 
 Filling his heart with dire dismay, 
 Gossips who saw her proper life, 
 
FANTINE. 187 
 
 Who knew not were she maid or wife, 
 
 And whispered this and whispered that, 
 
 In hours of sly, malicious chat, 
 
 Until, alas for poor Fantine ! 
 
 One came among them her child had seen I 
 
 And then the rout, 
 
 The virtuous shout, 
 
 To think that she had been found out I 
 Then were the arrows of hatred hurled, 
 And poor Fantine was thrown on the world. 
 
 Alas for her, 
 
 Sweet sufferer ! 
 
 No friends to call on, far or near ; 
 And how could she pay Thernardier ? 
 He was pressing her for his pay, 
 Said the child was pining away, 
 Driving her crazed with fears each day ; 
 Besides, her landlord wanted his rent, 
 But she had expended her last red cent ; 
 
 Had even sold 
 
 The precious gold 
 That covered her head to raise the dimes, 
 
 And the bright pearls, too, 
 
 In her mouth that grew, 
 But not at premium of later times. 
 
 Dante mentions the rapid pace, 
 And the easy trip to a certain place, 
 When mortals fall from a state of grace 5 
 Twas certainly thus in Fantine s case. 
 It makes the heart of the virtuous bleed 
 The record of her shame to read 
 Till she fell in the hands of the hard Javerfc, 
 And was brought before his honor the mayor, 
 
188 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 Wliose face she spat in then and there ! 
 
 But no angry glow 
 
 Did his honor show, 
 
 Who told Javert to let her go. 
 Then she, astounded, heard him tell 
 * That he was one who wished her well ; 
 Hadn t known she had left his mill ; 
 That twas others who had dealt her ill ; 
 
 Then had her conveyed, 
 
 For hospital aid, 
 
 Where the Sisters their heavenly mission fill, 
 Promising hliss in store for her yet 
 In union sweet with her little Cosette. 
 
 Sad, ah, sad, was the closing scene 
 Of the little life of poor Fantine. 
 Crushed, and broken, and poor, and ill, 
 She saw her measure of sorrow fill ; 
 Her hope deferred, till her wasted breath 
 Became as one with the airs of death, 
 Then sunk to rest, and never met 
 The fond embrace of her dear Cosette. 
 Her last shocked gaze, with her closing gasp, 
 
 Showing Jean Valjean, 
 
 Her Madeleine, 
 Held like a vise in Javert s grasp. 
 
MISSION OF A E ABE-DONE STEAK. 189 
 
 MISSION OF A RARE^DONE STEAK. 
 
 " Do you take me for a cannibal ? " said the red-faced 
 man, fiercely, addressing the waiter, who had put a steak 
 before him that from its rareness might have awakened a 
 doubt if it had ever felt the fire. 
 
 " No, sir, by no means ; no, sir," replied the waiter, ob 
 sequiously. 
 
 " Then why do you bring me raw beef, sir ? " turning it 
 over with an expression of intense disgust. 
 
 " Your order was rare done, sir." 
 
 " Rare doesn t mean raw. This is raw. It roars, sir 
 it roars." 
 
 " Very well, sir, we will change it, and have one done 
 better to your liking." 
 
 {( See to it then, sir, and don t keep me all day waiting ; " 
 and the red-faced man turned to a companion at the same 
 .table, with the remark, " Very annoying, sir." 
 
 "I suppose so," said the one addressed, who, having 
 given his order, was balancing the bill of fare on his fork ; 
 " but I consider eating-houses the next , best thing to a 
 calamity the gout, for instance for the trial of patience ; 
 they are providential dispensations, so to speak, and those 
 who will may profit by them." 
 
 " Nuisances, sir, half of em," said the red-faced man ; 
 " pah ! raw beef." 
 
 " I smiled at what you said to the waiter about it," said 
 the believer in the providential character of eating-houses, 
 still balancing the bill of fare on his fork, and varying his 
 performance with whirling the caster round, "because it 
 called to mind something that occurred to some acquaint- 
 
190 PARTESTGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 ances of mine several years ago. Twas the strangest 
 thing ! " 
 
 He looked provokingly mysterious, and the red-faced 
 man, with curiosity plainly visible, said, sharply, " What 
 was it ? " 
 
 "Two brothers, who had been apart and hostile for 
 years, identifying each other, and becoming reconciled 
 through an under-done beefsteak ! Strange, but true, pon 
 my life." 
 
 He glanced up into the fierce man s face as he concluded, 
 and saw the greatest incredulity depicted there. Indeed, 
 his mouth was just puckering into a whistle ; but catching 
 the earnest look of the informant, he commuted it by rap 
 ping on the table. 
 
 " I have heard that it was good for a black eye," said 
 he, at length, " caused, perhaps, by feelings like those 
 named; but hang me if ever I heard any use so strange as 
 that to put it to. How was it ? " 
 
 " As it takes some time to cook what I have ordered," 
 replied the philosopher, " perhaps I shall be able to tell 
 you. "Well, you see, old Farmer Wilbur, of Branch Creek, 
 Vermont, had two sons only sons good, likely fellows, 
 but they were always quarrelling. Cats and dogs weren t 
 a priming to them. The old farmer was a widower, and 
 they and their quarrels made him about as uncomfortable 
 as one could well be. At last, when the oldest boy was 
 about sixteen, after a terrible fight with his brother, he 
 ran away; and soon after, the old man, having a chance to 
 sell his farm to a railway company, improved it to good 
 advantage, and moved West, where he became swallowed 
 up, to all intents and purposes, for nobody knew where he 
 had gone; out West, in some unrememberable locality, 
 being all that his old neighbors knew about it. Where s 
 Farmer Wilbur ? strangers would sometimes inquire j 
 
MISSION OF A KABE DOME STEAK 191 
 
 Gone West/ was the reply. < Whereabouts ? < Don t 
 remember. 7 He was just as good as dead, you see as 
 though he had heen buried for a centuiy. Nobody had 
 heard from him for twenty years, nor the runaway son. 
 But at the end of twenty years back came the runaway 
 son, with lots of money. He had been in California, and 
 was rich as a Jew. He tried every way to find out what 
 had become of his fafher and brother, but didn t succeed ; 
 and at last, as the next best thing to it, he bought back the 
 old homestead, and as much of the land as h3 could save, 
 married one of the pretty villagers, and settled down. In 
 buying back the old house, he restored the paint to its 
 original color, for Farmer Wilbur s taste had always been 
 peculiar. The house was red with white trimmings, the 
 blinds slate color, the doors yellow, and the roof blue a 
 very peculiar looking house, and artists travelling in the 
 vicinity have been known to go five miles out of their way 
 to avoid seeing it. The returned wanderer, out of respect 
 to his father, had it painted exactly as he remembered it. 
 It was his custom to come to Boston once a year to col 
 lect his dividends arriving in the morning and going back 
 at night. I got quite well acquainted with him, and found 
 him to be an interesting and good fellow. We usually 
 took dinner together at his hotel 5 but on tho occasion of 
 which I am about to tell, he didn t go to a hotel, and we 
 went into the French restaurant up here for a lunch. 
 While we were there, there came in a man of good appear 
 ance, but evidently a victim of misfortune. There was 
 care manifested in his coat, his pants looked shiny but 
 well preserved, his boots were patched, but they had lately 
 been blacked, his vest was a relic, and his hat of an un 
 certain period. He was seedy, but genteel poor, but 
 respectable. His face was strongly marked by the small 
 pox, and it was apparent from the way in which he half 
 
192 PAETINGTOXIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 closed his eyes, as he looked almost timidly around, that 
 his vision was impaired. A beefsteak/ said he, in a mod 
 est tone, middling well done. The waiter gave him a 
 supercilious look, passed along his order, and turned to us 
 as mettle more attractive. Our order was steak rare 
 done. The stranger took the unoccupied seat at our 
 table, and we in our conversation took no further notice 
 of him. By and by he had a plate so* before him, and we 
 were again attracted towards him by the way in which .he 
 regarded it ; at the same time we saw that it was as raw as 
 the most desperate beef-eater could desire. He took an 
 antique looking eye-glass from his pocket, and scrutinized 
 his acquisition with much earnestness ; then, leaning back, 
 he sighed deeply, and wiped his eyes on a faded blue cot 
 ton handkerchief. There was no anger on his face, but a 
 spirit of deep reflection was written there, and bitter sad 
 ness. After a while a smile played over his features, and 
 reaching over to us in a confidential way, he said, 
 
 " You may be surprised, gentlemen, at my conduct ; 
 but by some strange craze of the mind I am led to associ 
 ate this raw beef with much of my early history. The 
 strangest fancy in the world, and I can t account for it. 
 While looking at that beef through my eye-glass, gentle 
 men, the first fifteen years of my life passed before me. 
 I saw wide-reaching meadows, and lowing cattle, and run 
 ning brooks, and gentle slopes, and a red house with a 
 yellow door, slate-colored blinds, and a blue roof, that I 
 used to call my home. 
 
 " What! cried my friend Wilbur, starting to his foot, 
 in great surprise ; did such a picture as that present itself 
 to you ? and was it a true picture ? What may your name 
 be, sir, if I can inquire without being considered im 
 pertinent ? 
 
 " ( Not impertinent at all, sir, and I have no desire to con- 
 
MISSION OF A HAKE-DONE STEAK. 193 
 
 ceal a name that has never had crime connected with it. 
 My name is Nathan Wilbur named for my father, a good 
 old man, who owned the house I have described. 
 
 " I saw through it all in a moment, and dreaded lest the 
 old animosity should awake ; but it was buried beneath the 
 years that had passed, and looking in my friend s face, I saw 
 tears in his eyes. 
 
 " Is the old man yet alive ? he said to the stranger. 
 
 " No/ replied he, much surprised ; it broke his heart to 
 hear that my brother had become a Mussulman, and had 
 forsworn his religion, my father being a strong Methodist. 7 - 
 
 " Nathan Wilbur, said my friend, in a voice of deep 
 emotion, ( I am your brother Matthew. 7 
 
 " I may as well cut the matter short," said the philosoph 
 ical man to the red-faced one, " for here are our dinners 
 coming. JVTatthew took his brother home with him, and 
 they lived in delightful harmony. Strange story, isn t it, 
 and all of an under-done steak ? Where would you be 
 likely to hear another like it, but in an eating-house? 
 How is your steak cooked, sir ? Well, sir, we rail against 
 em, and sometimes it is right we should ; but after all, sir, 
 they re great schools for us, eating-houses are ; you may 
 depend upon that, as trials of patience, encouragers of 
 hope, and strengtheners of faith, especially this last, 
 there s nothing like em." 
 
 The red-faced man ate his steak in silence. 
 17 
 
194 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 A NEW RAPE OF THE LOCK. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 SWEET Madaline s hair was very fair, 
 Of ashen-gold hue, by which bards swear, 
 
 Whose glorious curls 
 
 Were the envy of girls, 
 Of kink divine and profusion rare j 
 
 And Madaline s power, 
 
 Evinced each hour, 
 Rested, like Samson s, in her hair. 
 
 In such a glory it round her lay t 
 
 Crinkled in Style s adroitest way, 
 
 Burnt with irons to make it stay, 
 
 With amount of effort .best not to say , 
 
 Its every curl, in the light astray, 
 
 Seeming a streak from the source of day, 
 
 Leading the rapt beholder, 
 Who saw it about her neck at play, 
 To deem it some amorous sunbeam s ray, 
 
 Lit on her snow-white shoulder. 
 
 Not like the curls we sometimes me6t 
 Out there upon the public street, 
 
 To good taste oft offences, 
 That glisten and twist admiration to gain, 
 And excite the susceptible masculine train, 
 Till they find at last, to their shame and pain, 
 That they re fraud, and the whole of their object, 
 plain 
 
 Getting goods under false pretences. 
 
A NEW RAPE OF THE LOCK. 195 
 
 At every feast, or dance, or fair. 
 In the burning blaze of the gas-light s glare. 
 Were seen those locks flash here and there, 
 Like fireflies in the summer air, 
 
 Enchanting by their glitter ; 
 Sought for by eligible beaux, 
 Subject for rivalry with those 
 Who ached to tweak each other s nose 
 
 In the eager race to get her. 
 
 And her smile was bright as the curl she wore, 
 And equal kindness on all she d pour, 
 
 And each fond swain 
 
 Perplexed his brain 
 
 So far as that organ might obtain, 
 As he watched the smile her features o er, 
 If for him it any promise bore ; 
 
 But all his watch was vain. 
 
 PAET II. 
 
 ? Twas in the glow of a festal night, 
 The social, fires all" burning bright, 
 The gas turned on to its utmost height, 
 Bathing the scene in its fullest light; 
 
 Sweet Madaline, 
 
 The pride of the scene, 
 The cynosure of enraptured sight 
 
 To many a would-be lover, 
 Sat a,t the board with her golden hair 
 In affluent ringlets about her chair, 
 Catching the whole of the gas-light s glare 
 That streamed from the jet above her. 
 
196 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Toasted, and flattered, and praised, and pressed, 
 
 She caught each word with a fluttering breast j 
 
 And many a youthful, manly vest 
 
 Swelled at her beauty manifest, 
 
 And pulsing hearts, neath the glowing test, 
 
 The potency of her charms confessed, 
 
 With rapturous feeling overblessed 
 
 If her eyes in kiadness wandered, 
 And her golden hair a wealth possessed 
 That bosoms filled with as keen unrest 
 As any awaked by the golden west, 
 
 In auriferous dreams long pondered. 
 
 Around her chair 
 Her votaries ther 
 Hung entranced her joy to share 
 
 In each luxurious minute ; 
 Already had passed the season of cream, 
 And trifles sweet as a maiden s dream, 
 And small talk ran like a babbling stream, 
 
 When, a moment s hush, 
 
 A push and a rush, 
 And then there came a mellifluous scream, 
 
 Like the angry note of a linnet! 
 "No one could tell the reason why, 
 But twas Madaline s cry, and Madaline s eye 
 That looked around on the standers-by 
 
 With the fiercest temper in it ! 
 
 PART III. 
 
 u On with the dance ! " and with agile feet, 
 The music breathing its cadence sweet, 
 The dancers flitted with measure meet, 
 
A NEW EAPE OF THE LOCK. 197 
 
 The gay hours moving on pinions fleet, 
 With saltatory joy replete, 
 
 And Madaline, 
 
 Again serene, 
 
 Moved in the throng the regnant queen, 
 
 The blissful scene enhancing ; 
 There were polks and waltzes, galops and reels, 
 And those rare movements the dancer feels, 
 Thrilling all through from head to heels, 
 That make the acme of dancing. 
 
 Again, " Choose partners ! " every set 
 
 In just accordancy has met 
 
 For the gracefullest, grandest trial yet ; 
 
 There are twists and twirls, 
 
 And swirls and whirls, 
 
 And glowing bright are Madaline s curls 
 On the happy shoulder of George Manett ! 
 (Perhaps that wasn t the very name, 
 But the truth of the tale is just the same.) 
 About they go in the mazy dance 
 Chassez ! Balancez ! Back ! Advance ! 
 
 When, just at the critical turning, 
 Fair Madaline seemed struck with a trance ; 
 Her feet stood still, and with look askance, 
 Astonishment in her countenance, 
 
 Her eyes in their sockets burning ! 
 
 The dancers stopped in sore dismay ; 
 
 The caller s call none would obey ; 
 
 And there they stood in the light s full ray, 
 
 Looking with vacant stare, 
 Till Madaline her finger put on 
 Her wondering partner s third vest-button, 
 17* 
 
198 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Where, gleaming like gold, 
 Oh his waistcoat s fold 
 
 Was a lock of golden hair ! 
 
 Like the fierce wild red man of the west, 
 
 Swinging a scalp as his valor s test, 
 
 So Manett wore on his sturdy breast 
 
 A lock of hers he loved the best, 
 
 And he vowed a vow that none of the rest 
 
 Should lift a hand to pick it ; 
 Though how it came there he didn t know, 
 But Madaline the spot could show, 
 Where late the golden curl did grow, 
 That was torn by its roots from its soil of snow, 
 
 In the midst of the golden thicket. 
 
 And that was the secret of Madaline s scream, 
 Mingled with noise of spoons in the cream, 
 And waking the " spoons " from their little dream, 
 Coupled with glance of her eyes fierce gleam, 
 
 That carried such a start with it; 
 And Manett clings to his beautiful scalp 
 As firm as the foot of an amorous Alp, 
 Determined never to part with it ; 
 
 And Madaline she 
 
 Don t disagree, 
 Seeing he has his heart with it. 
 
THE NEW RAPE OF A LOCK. Page 198. 
 
THE VERIFICATION. 199 
 
 THE VERIFICATION. 
 
 I WAS in the old line brig Lively Sally, Captain Knaggs, 
 the molasses lugger betwixt Cienfuegos and Boston, and 
 was on my way home full of the joyful anticipations that 
 a sailor indulges in, whose whole enjoyment is said to be 
 in the fortnight preceding his arrival at any port, which 
 he gives to pleasant anticipations. This is more the case 
 now, perhaps, than then, because in the days of which I 
 write, the sailor had a home and friends, now denied to 
 the poor habitue of cheap boarding-houses in the purlieus 
 of big cities, exposed to the temptations without and the 
 corruptions within that tap his exchequer to the last far 
 thing, leaving him to the tender mercies of a villanous 
 landlord. The illusion is soon exhausted, and the poor 
 fellow is glad to get to sea again, to recuperate during a 
 long voyage, to again anticipate, and again be disappointed, 
 till dissipation closes the drama, and "poor Jack" goes under. 
 
 We had a very good crew on the Lively Sally, and there 
 was no prettier^, fellow ever walked a deck than Bob 
 Small, who was a sailor from a love of the profession, and 
 who had run away from his home in New Hampshire three 
 years before, from which he had not heard a word since, 
 and to which he had resolved to return after the present 
 voyage. He was in my watch, and often, under the lee 
 of the longboat, he would open his heart to me regarding 
 his hopes and fears. 
 
 We were one night walking the deck in the moonlight, 
 the sea just moved to a ripple beneath the tropical air, 
 when he caught my arm suddenly, and cried, -*-~ 
 
 " Look there ! " , 
 
200 PAETINGTONIAN PATCH WORK. 
 
 "Where? "I asked. 
 
 "There/ said he, "in the wake of the moon. Don t you 
 see ? " 
 
 There, sure enough, swam an immense shark, just above 
 the water, within a boat s length of us ; and we felt that 
 his evil eye rested upon us, as we stood there gazing at 
 him. I felt a sense of uneasiness as I saw the monster so 
 near us, and was sensible of a violent tremor in Bob, as his 
 hand rested upon my arm. 
 
 " Jack," said he, impressively, " that chap is after me. I 
 can read my fate in every wrinkle of the water as it plays 
 around him, and I know very well that he will be my 
 tomb." 
 
 " Nonsense," I said; "what is the use of indulging in 
 such feeling as that? It is no unusual thing to see a 
 shark ; and what if every sailor should take it into his 
 head that he was to be eaten ; do you think he would be ? " 
 
 At that the monster gave a great swirl in the water, 
 and the ripples flashed in the moonbeams. 
 
 "You see that, Jack," said he ; "he knows what we are 
 talking about, and it s a settled thing. His mind is made 
 up to have a pick at me, and he will do it." 
 
 " Why do you believe so ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh ! " said he, " I have been too happy. These joyful 
 anticipations of seeing home again, and getting the for 
 giveness of the old folks, if they are alive, and seeing my 
 little sister Myra, have filled me full. Jack," he continued, 
 turning me round, and looking me squarely in the face, 
 "do you believe that a man who disrespects his father so 
 much as to shut him down cellar and run away, has a right 
 to anticipate happiness ? I served mine so. See that 
 
 shark ; he seems to be laughing at what I say, the d 
 
 beast, if I may be allowed the expression." 
 
 I comforted him by telling him that if he had served the 
 
THE VERIFICATION. 201 
 
 old man no worse than that, there was ample hope for 
 him, and that I had known a young man who had pitched 
 his father into a dry well, forty feet deep, and stolen all 
 the old gentleman s tobacco that was in his coat pocket 
 where he had laid it. I didn t tell him though, that that 
 same young man had afterwards been eaten by the New 
 Zealanders, which was doubtless a visitation for the of- 
 "fence. I further told him that he had no reason for his 
 gloomy fears, arid gently hinted that he was a consummate 
 ass for borrowing trouble; but he mournfully shook his 
 head. The calling of the " larboard watch " interrupted 
 our conversation, and we turned in. I lay awake but a 
 little while, and could hear Bob sigh deeply as he lay in 
 his berth. 
 
 The next day the shark was not visible ; but night found 
 us again looking over the lee rail, and, as before, right in 
 the wake of the moon, was the huge fish swimming along 
 with his fin out of water, a boat s length "from us. 
 
 "He s after me," said Bob, in a whisper. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " I replied ; " he s after me as much as you 
 or Bill Marline here," turning to an old salt of our 
 watch, who had been to sea before either of us was born. 
 
 The old man didn t speak for a second or two, but chewed 
 violently while he looked at the monster as he swam by, 
 seemingly twenty feet long. 
 
 " Well," said he, at length, " I don t know how tis, but I 
 don t like to see them fellows, nor to talk about em. They 
 know too much, and it s a pretty, sure thing when they are 
 round that somebody s booked. Mabbe tis one, mabbe 
 tis another ; we don t know, but they do. They have a 
 record of it all, and know their man just as well as we know 
 one of our men." 
 
 Bob was deathly pale in the moonlight as he heard this. 
 The slowly uttered words of the old sailor sounded to his 
 
202 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 ears like the burial service, " We commit the body of our 
 dear shipmate to the deep," and I could see a tear in his eye. 
 I then took him on one side and reasoned with him, but 
 it was of no use. He was to die how, he did not know 
 the shark was to have something to do with it and 
 -he was to see his New Hampshire home no more. All 
 this while the great sea-monster, with his dorsal fin out of 
 water, swam lazily along in the moonlight. 
 
 I think that Bob could not have slept a wink all night. 
 He turned and turned in his berth, and his sighs were 
 piteous. He looked so haggard and worn the next morn 
 ing, that Mr. Goodenough, the mate, noticed it. 
 
 " Ah, Bob," said he, " what s the matter ? You look 
 like a sick hen." 
 
 Bob simply replied that he did not feel very well, and 
 turned his attention to his duties. 
 
 " Time s most up, Jack," said he, in a whisper ; " and 
 look there ! " 
 
 Sure enough, there, scarcely a boat s length from the 
 brig, was seen the ominous fin, the black flag of the bucca 
 neer of the finny tribe ; aud I was for a moment shocked. 
 
 " This can t last another daj^," said he, seizing the rail ; 
 " and you believe it ; I see you tremble. You must go up 
 and see the old folks, Jack, and tell em how penitent I 
 died, and that my life was not thrown away, though I was a 
 runaway. Give them my chest, and give little Myra the 
 sea-elephant s tooth with the carving upon it, to keep as a 
 memento, and Heaven bless you, Jack." 
 
 The poor fellow wept like a child. 
 
 The whole crew were now attracted along the vessel s 
 side to see the great fish that was so desirous of our com 
 pany, and various were the comments made upon it, none 
 of which were of the sombre character of poor Bob s, 
 though they all looked upon it with a feeling of dread. 
 
THE VERIFICATION. 203 
 
 The cook a Cura9oa darky of wonderful ivories, and as 
 black as jet stood looking on with the others, his face 
 shining in the sun, his emotions evidently different from 
 the rest, for his mouth was drawn out into a smile that 
 almost divided his head, what was not mouth seeming but 
 a sort of black ligament behind his ears. 
 
 " He wantee brekfus, guess," said Africanus to himself. 
 
 His mind at this seemed to arrive at a very decisive 
 though comical conclusion. He darted into his camboose, 
 from which he re-appeared again in a few moments with 
 something rolled up in an old red shirt, that seemed to 
 send out a steam. 
 
 " What have you got there ? " asked the mate. 
 
 " Brekfus for shark, massa," was the reply, with an ex 
 pansive grin. 
 
 He said no more, but threw his bundle far out into the 
 water before the nose of the shark, who, waking from his 
 supineness, darted forward, and immediately swallowed the 
 object. For an instant the monster resumed his pace 
 alongside the brig ; but this was succeeded by an evident 
 feeling of uneasiness, and a moment after he leaped his 
 length from the water, falling upon the surface with a 
 crash that sent the spray flying to our fore-yard. Then he 
 swam furiously in a wild circle about the vessel, leaping 
 occasionally from the water, and turned upon his back. 
 Soon his motions ceased, and, rolling over, he lay a silent 
 mass upon the water. 
 
 " Golly," said Cura9oa, t( he got his brekfus, shu. Hot 
 brick warmee tummak." 
 
 " Did you give him a hot brick ? " said Mr. Goodenough. 
 
 " Yes, massa," said Blacky, with a grin j " and guess he 
 don t gree wid em." 
 
 There was a loud laugh at the cook s experiment, and 
 turning to speak to Bob, I found he had left my side. 
 
204 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Where s Bob ? " I asked. 
 
 "Don t know ; saw him here a minute ago." 
 
 I went round to the other side of the boat. He was not 
 there. We called him, and searched for him, but he was 
 not to be found. Then it seemed sure enough that poor 
 Bob s misgiving had been verified, and I mourned his loss, 
 thinking of my own melancholy mission into New Hamp 
 shire to inform his weeping friends of his death. It in fact 
 cast a gloom over all the vessel, and we could never under 
 stand how he disappeared so suddenly, supposing, how 
 ever, that his mind, becoming morbid, had lost its balance, 
 and he had leaped overboard while we were absorbed by 
 the cook s adventure with the shark. 
 
 The vessel arrived in a^out eight days, and, after I had 
 got clear of her, I set about the performance of the duty 
 that had been charged upon me by Bob. I embarked for 
 New Hampshire, having stowed Bob s chest in the bag 
 gage-car, and thought, all the way, what I should say to 
 the mourning friends. It was something that I was not 
 accustomed to, and I went on the voyage with much mis 
 giving. 
 
 I stopped at the pretty little station of. Spruceburg, 
 among the hills, at which a coach was waiting to carry 
 passengers to Bimmer, a town some four miles distant, 
 that was the place of my destination. Upon this coach 
 Bob s chest was hoisted ; but, when I attempted to enter, 
 I found it entirely full, and the driver s seat was also occu 
 pied by two besides himself. I therefore looked for some 
 other means of conveyance. The depot master proved 
 my friend, and, after a few moments, informed me that a 
 young lady from Rimmer was in town with a wagon, who 
 would return alone in a short time, and that she would be 
 happy to accommodate me with a seat. So I gave direc 
 tions that the chest should be left at the hotel, as I was 
 
THE VERIFICATION. 205 
 
 informed there was one, in order that Bob s friends might 
 not see it, and waited for my fair companion. 
 
 The wagon was pointed out to me, and the young lady 
 soon came along, to whom I introduced myself, and, help 
 ing her in, I sat beside her. She insisted upon driving, of 
 which I was very glad, as I was more familiar with a haw 
 ser than a horse. She was exceedingly pretty, about seven 
 teen years old, and was in all respects interesting, being 
 one of those bright and sparkling little fairies that are con 
 tinual surprises to those who are predisposed to believe 
 that all country productions of the kind are awkward and 
 disagreeable ; one of which, however, I was not. I found 
 her chatty and pheasant, full of piquant remarks, in which 
 she did not spare me, and I was perfectly delighted with 
 her. The conversation at last turned on Birniner. 
 
 " Do you reside there ? " I asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then, of course, you are acquainted- with all the people 
 there. Do you know a Small family ? " 
 
 " There are quite a number of small families/ 7 she said ; 
 " in fact, none very large." 
 
 " I mean a family by the name of Small." 
 
 " Ah, yes, I understand. Well, I do." 
 
 " Is the name of one of its members Myra ? " 
 
 " Yes ; Myra Small and myself are very intimate. We 
 sing in the same choir." 
 
 " She had a brother ? " 
 
 " Yes ; Bob Small. He was a wild fellow, and went 
 away to sea years ago." 
 
 " Have they mourned him ? " 
 
 " No, not much. He locked his father in a cellar when 
 he went away, and this rather set them against him." 
 
 " Well, I have sad news for them. I have just returned 
 from a voyage with him, and he was lost at sea." 
 
 d 
 
20G PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Sad news, indeed, that will be. But he will never 
 shut the old man down cellar again will he ? " 
 " No, I should think as much." 
 " Nor torment poor Myra ? " 
 
 " No ; hut he th ought of her at the last, poor fellow ! 
 and I have a parting gift for her from him." 
 
 I inquired about the old folks and about Myra, and the 
 conversation lasted till we arrived at the hotel, where she 
 was to put me down, which I chose rather than go to 
 the home of Bob at once. I waited till the evening before 
 I went on my melancholy errand. It was a fair night in 
 September, the air just beginning to grow a little chilly, 
 and I walked very slowly, almost reluctantly, to an en 
 counter that I very much dreaded. My duty to Bob 
 alone sustained me in the effort. 
 
 The homestead was a substantial old farm-house, with a 
 lane leading up to it, and, turning into which, I proceeded 
 on my errand, my heart beating a loud alarum on my ribs. 
 The windows were all ablaze with light, and a strain of 
 music floated to me from the house, auguring a scene of 
 happiness and peace within, that I, fiend-like, was going 
 to interrupt. Should I go on ? Yes, duty to Bob im 
 pelled me. 
 
 I approached and rapped upon the door. All was still in 
 a moment ; but nobody came. I rapped again, and fancied 
 I heard in response a titter on the inside. This time, how 
 ever, there was the sound of turning a key or removing a 
 bolt ; the door swung open, and there, in the light of two 
 blazing lamps, held in the hands of my fairy of the wagon, 
 who " sang in the choir with Myra Small," stood my old 
 shipmate Bob, in apparently excellent condition, and with 
 an expression upon his face altogether unlike that which 
 any ghost that I ever heard of wears. 
 
 " Bob Small, by all that s rascally ! " said I, for a 
 
THE VERIFICATION. 207 
 
 moment regretting that he was not at the bottom of 
 the sea. 
 
 " Yes, Jack/ said he, after I had entered, " the very 
 same. I hid away in the run on board the brig, 
 ashamed of my wild prognostic when the nigger killed the 
 shark, and I determined that even you should not see me 
 till you saw me here, as I knew you would, because I knew 
 you would comply with my dying request. So Myra has 
 been down to the depot every day for a week to watch for 
 the big chest, and the fellow along with it, thanking her 
 stars to-day at the fortune which gave you her company. 
 She knew you from my description and the chest." 
 
 u Well, Bob," I said, " I suppose I ought to rejoice that 
 you are alive, though hang me if I would undergo so much 
 inquietude on any account again. And Miss Myra must 
 accept my apology for not recognizing her by instinct." 
 
 Then the old folks came in, and we had a good time all 
 round, the old gentleman informing me of the trick put 
 upon him in shutting him down cellar, which he seemed to 
 relish as he recalled it ; and the old lady looked as pleas 
 ant as an October evening, while Myra beamed ineffably 
 on all. 
 
 Perhaps I ought to finish my story by falling in love 
 with Myra and marrying her ; but I found no chance for 
 that, because she had a huge mechanic who was booked 
 for her good graces, though she liked me as the friend of 
 Bob ; and I gave her the elephant s t^oth, with his dying 
 speech, which, years after, I saw her youngest babe cutting 
 its teeth upon I mean the tooth, of course, and not the 
 speech. 
 
 Bob is now one of the most successful shipmasters out 
 of New York, and I am the reader s very humble ser 
 vant. 
 
208 PAHTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 BUILDING THE BRIDGE. 
 
 A TRUTHFUL STORY OF OLD PEMIGEWASSET. 
 
 OUT spake the Plymouth landlord : 
 
 " A bridge we ll straightway throw 
 Across Pemigewasset s tide 
 
 To where the wild flowers blow." 
 Then out spake stout Seth Brownleaf, 
 
 Conductor on the road : 
 " Twere worth a deal to all that here 
 
 Mayhap shall find abode j 
 And how can one do better 
 
 Than herein show his skill, 
 For the credit of his genius 
 
 And the power of his will ? 
 
 " So down the bridge goes, landlord, 
 
 With all the speed it may ; 
 I, with two more to help me, 
 
 Will build it in a day. 
 O er that bright stream a pathway 
 
 May well be built by three ; 
 Now who will stand on either hand 
 
 And build the bridge with me ? " 
 
 Then out spake Jotham Hornbeam ; 
 
 A rum un rough was he : 
 " Lo, I will stand with axe in hand, 
 
 And build the bridge with thee." 
 
BUILDING THE BRIDGE. 209 
 
 And out spake strong Jo Chesman 
 
 A granite boy was lie : 
 " I will abide with boards supplied, 
 
 And build the bridge with thee." 
 
 " Seth Brownleaf/ said the landlord, 
 
 " As thou sayest so let it be." 
 And straightway went on their intent 
 
 Those sturdy builders three ; 
 For such men in such spirit 
 
 Were bound a bridge to throw, 
 That son and wife, in limb and life, 
 
 Might safely over go. 
 
 The three stood calm and silent, 
 
 And looked upon the tide, 
 Then planted first a joiner s bench 
 
 That lay the stream beside ; 
 And soon the boarders, looking on, 
 
 Felt their hearts thrill to see 
 The joiner s bench and an old board fence 
 
 A path for the dauntless three. 
 
 The axe and hammer sounded, 
 
 As manfully they plied, 
 And the bridge stretched out behind them 
 
 In its majesty and pride. 
 " Come back ! come back ! bold Brownleaf," 
 
 Cried the boarders with a turst ; 
 "On, Hornbeam! on, Jo Chesman! 
 
 And we will quench your thirst. 7 
 
 On labored Jotham Hornbeam, 
 Jo Chesman pushed ahead j 
 18* 
 
210 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 The hammers rattled merrily, 
 The work triumphant sped ; 
 
 And when they turned their faces 
 Towards the thither land, 
 
 They saw brave Brownleaf coming back 
 With a stone jug in his hand. 
 
 Then, with a shout like thunder, 
 
 They laid the last cross-beam, 
 And their voices echoed merrily 
 
 O er Pemigewasset s stream ; 
 And a loud shout of triumph 
 
 Hose from the other side, 
 As finished was the mighty bridge 
 
 Across the rushing tide. 
 
 Alone stood brave Seth Brownleaf, 
 
 For the others had gone- in, 
 And the way they bagged those fluids 
 
 Was what men term " a sin." 
 "He s done it! " cried Si. Winkley, 
 
 As he took another chaw ; 
 " Twill squash ! " said old Lishe Porcina, 
 
 Bringing down his dexter paw. 
 
 Bound turned his broad face glowing ; 
 
 His mates were overcome ; 
 Nor spoke a word did he to them, 
 
 But looked towards his home ; 
 He saw the hotel beaming fair 
 
 The boarders in a row 
 And he spoke to the noble river 
 
 That at his feet did flow : 
 
BUILDING THE BlilDGE. 211 
 
 " Father Pemigcwasset ! 
 
 Look at this bridge, I pray. 
 Its joiner s bench, its boards and nails, 
 
 Take them in charge this day." 
 So he spoke, and gathered up the tools, 
 
 His handsaw by his side, 
 And then upon the bridge he d made 
 
 He crossed the humbled tide. 
 
 And now the shore he reaches, 
 
 Now on the bank he stands, 
 Now round him throng the boarders, 
 
 Who shake his muddy hands ; 
 But when, three weeks thereafter, 
 
 The fresh came down apace, 
 Away went the bridge like a cobweb chain, 
 
 And left not a single trace. 
 
 Yet Hornbeam and Jo Chesman 
 
 Both swear, by main and might, 
 That they were sober as a judge, 
 
 And only Seth was tight ; 
 And say the bridge would e er have stood 
 
 Through all the tides and gales, 
 If the whiskey hadn t somehow got 
 
 Spilt over mongst the nails. 
 
 NOTE. The foregoing incident in Roman history will be remem 
 bered by some of the older sojourners at the Pemigewasset House, 
 in Plymouth, New Hampshire. Seth s bridge was regarded a fine 
 specimen of engineering, though he was not an engineer; simply a 
 conductor. It is supposed that it was from this incident that Ma- 
 caulay conceived his idea of the " Keeping of the Bridge " by Hora- 
 tius and others, which he consequently put in feeble verse. 
 
212 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 A MODEL MAN S EXPERIENCES. 
 
 THIS story being about myself, my friends will readily 
 understand that I am not parading myself as a paragon, a 
 model* of human, excellence, and my friend Young, the 
 artist, well knows that I am no model for his use ; the term 
 model has a significance peculiar to itself, which will be 
 explained in the brief sketch here written. You will gen 
 erally find model men, like a peach, only bright on one 
 side the other often being wormy and sour; the specious 
 show outside, perhaps but skin deep, hides the defects, and 
 the thing passes for much more than it is really worth. I 
 know model husbands, who are pointed at as domestic 
 copies for neighborhoods, because they never go out nights, 
 never mix in society, never have an idea beyond their own 
 limits a sort of " me and my wife " people, who are not 
 remarkable for any thing except % that they are models ; but 
 Heaven forbid that their selfish pattern should be followed 
 by living men. % 
 
 But this is not what I was going to say. When I came 
 to Boston, some, ten years since, I was in a severe corner. 
 I had borrowed money enough to bring me here, but the 
 last shilling was on the verge of being expended, and 
 where to look for more I knew not. I had nothing to do, 
 and to beg- 1 was ashamed. Indeed I was a little particu 
 lar as to what I might have to do, for I had graduated 
 with some honor at the academy in my native town, and 
 had chosen an entire suit of black for my outfit, at twenty- 
 one, my age when I left home, implying that some 
 genteel position was the one destined to be filled by me. 
 Perhaps I should become a clergyman, or a lawyer, or a 
 schoolmaster, there was nothing in the way of a profes- 
 
A MODEL MAN S EXPEEIENCES. 213 
 
 sion that was too high for my ambition, and my let-down 
 on the last shilling and nothing to do was very depress 
 ing. A fall in the mercury from ninety degrees to forty 
 could not be more so. 
 
 Like the man when treed by a bear, I felt that some 
 thing was to be done, and I ran my thought along the 
 whole gamut of expedients, but couldn t elicit any thing 
 satisfactory. Some people have a special gift of luck, and 
 when out of employment run their noses by what seems 
 chance, but which is, in fact, providence, right into good 
 situations and good pay. I felt that I was not thus gifted, 
 but was called to work my way into place by the sweat 
 of brain and the power of tact. Then I thought it over 
 again, and resolved upon a plan. I would create a new 
 business, and use the press, that stupendous lever, to 
 hoist myself into notice. Full of this idea I took advan 
 tage of a slight acquaintance I had made with the editor 
 Q the Herald to insert in his "valuable journal " the fol 
 lowing advertisement : 
 
 "A MODEL MAN. A young man from the country, of good fig 
 ure, manners, and education, desires to let himself as a model, for 
 the display of clothing, hats, boots,_ shirts, collars, -or any articles of 
 dress, in a manner to exhibit all their beauty and excellence; or, 
 being in good condition, would serve as an exemplification of the 
 benefit of living at any specified eating-house. Terms moderate. 
 Apply at this office." 
 
 This was a bold stroke, and my friend the editor, as he 
 marked the advertisement before giving it to the printers, 
 with a latent idea that he was going to get his pay for it, 
 said that the conceit was a good one, decidedly original, 
 and, if it took well, was bound to be popular. The adver 
 tisement appeared, and I heard it discussed in various 
 places where I was not known, and coupled often with 
 very discouraging remarks, not complimentary at all to the 
 sagacity of the advertiser. But the next day after it 
 
214 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 appeared, I was in the editorial room, when a gentleman 
 came in and asked for the " model man," whom I imme 
 diately avowed myself to be, with a front as brassy as 
 
 though I had been boarding a year in s family, 
 
 with the benefit of his distinguished example. 
 
 " I am that individual, sir," said I ; " what can I do for 
 you ? " I couldn t have been more cool if I had been bo- 
 hind a counter, and he had come in to purchase a bill of 
 goods. 
 
 He took a slip of paper from his vest pocket, read it, 
 looked at me, and said, 
 
 " This is all right, is it ? You re tlie model ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied I; "the first I think that ever oper 
 ated here. In Paris they have long been established, also 
 in London and Liverpool, but they have never before 
 crossed the Atlantic." 
 
 " How is the business conducted ? " he asked. 
 
 " Very simply," I said. "A merchant has clothing for 
 sale. He fits me with a new suit, and sends me out to 
 exhibit it, which I do everywhere, and send him lots of 
 customers, he giving me the clothes and a moderate per 
 centage on the sales. So of boots and hats ; and these 
 being essential to the better display of the clothes, I leave 
 the tailor the office of finding customers for me in this 
 line." 
 
 " And will they do it ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Do it ? Of course they will," I replied. " Why, I 
 so alarmed a merchant in London, who was a little hard 
 in terms, by threatening to be a model for another house, 
 that he allowed me to hire a horse and buggy, and a boy 
 \o drive me round town. Pon honor." 
 
 " You don t say so ! " said he. " Well, my business is 
 wigs; do you ever do any thing in that line?" 
 
 " I can t say that I ever did," I replied : " that is regarded 
 
A MODEL MAN S EXPERIENCES. 215 
 
 as the ornamental branch of the work, and commands 
 higher pay, but I am disposed to attempt it if you wish." 
 
 He immediately engaged me at^ten dollars per week to 
 circulate as a demonstrator of wigs. It was in July when 
 I commenced my perambulations, and I soon found that I 
 had got my foot in it. There were varieties of wigs that I 
 had to wear thick wigs and thin wigs, long-tailed wigs and 
 bob-wigs, curled wigs and shorn wigs, black wigs and white 
 wigs until I almost lost my identity. Passing through 
 the street one ,day, a familiar voice, accosted me with, 
 
 " How are you, Eoby ? " 
 
 This was the name I had borne in my state of native- 
 innocence, and I recognized one of my school companions. 
 I^turned towards him to express my delight at meeting 
 with him, when he very confusedly said, 
 
 " Excuse me, sir mistaken in the person ; " and darting 
 round a near corner he disappeared. I had that day 
 paraded a brilliant red wig, and my natural hair was as 
 black as the raven s wing. 
 
 This was but one of many similar accidents that hap 
 pened. Once I was held as a witness about a street fight ; 
 but when I came into court, my testimony was rejected, 
 because the officer wasn t satisfied, from the color of my 
 hair, that I was the person, which was made a point by the 
 counsel opposed to us, and I escaped, thanks to a judicious 
 change of wig. I continued in the wig business until my 
 employer wanted me to wear female curls, which I ob 
 jected to as unsexing the profession, and gave it up. 
 
 I had, in the mean time, made agreement with a fash 
 ionable tailor, and sported every variety of habiliment, 
 dress coats, frock coats, business coats, bobtail coats, till, 
 with those who only saw me in exterior, I was regarded 
 as a brazen spendthrift; and I heard, from one of those 
 friends who love to tell us unpleasant things, that a story 
 had been made up about me, wherein I figured as the 
 
216 PAHTINGTONIAN PATCH WORK. 
 
 graceless heir to an immense estate, that I was spending 
 in a manner rivalling the reckless extravagance of the 
 prodigal son, was a libertine and gambler, had brought my 
 father s gray hairs in sorrow to the grave, broken my 
 mother s heart, and -had rendered my sisters infamous 
 by association with my name ! It was astonishing how 
 my acquaintance was sought, after this,Jby respectable peo 
 ple. I was an object of marked attention with the ladies, 
 and a formidable rival with rascals not half so lurid as I 
 was, who looked up to me with emulous ambition. In the 
 mean time I was a living and moving eulogy of my tailor, 
 and the firm who employed me increased in business so 
 rapidly that the original proprietors withdrew from the 
 concern, and retired to the otium cum dig., as all sensible 
 poople ought to do when they have got money enough. I 
 broke with them at last, and stood out on my own inde 
 pendence, when they wanted me to introduce the kilt as a 
 summer costume. I remonstrated with them, with tears 
 in my eyes, but they were unbending, and, throwing my 
 trews in their faces, I departed. The firm failed, I was 
 happy to learn, in less than three months. 
 
 As a boot tree I was not so fortunate, my. foot being 
 No. 10, and No. 8 the average wear ; but by much crowd 
 ing and taking the boot off round the first corner and 
 wearing the old ones, I got along pretty well. I was bet 
 ter with hats, and made the fortunes of several in exempli 
 fying the beauties of some new patterns,- by talking elo 
 quently of allegiance to the crown, and advising people to 
 go and buy where I did. 
 
 My business was well established, and so adroitly man 
 aged that I enjoyed it in monopoly for a long time, no one 
 suspecting me ; but at last vague ideas of it began to pre 
 vail, and I was annoyed by all sorts of inquiries and the 
 queerest propositions. A man, a tobacconist, wished me 
 to stand at his door, in Indian costume, as a signj 
 
A MODEL MAN S EXPERIENCES. 217 
 
 another, a watchmaker, asked me to dress as Father 
 Time, and stand over his shop with scythe and hour-glass ; 
 and an undertaker asked my terms to lie in an open coffin, 
 and dress for interment ! 
 
 Business ran down after this, as rapidly as it had grown, 
 and I was disgusted and disheartened with the annoyances. 
 I was about giving it up in despair, when an aching tooth 
 drove me to my friend Molar s, the dentist, to have it out. 
 He looked in my mouth, thrust iron prongs into it, in 
 serted a small looking-glass and turned it in all directions, 
 and seemed at last ready to get in himself, when I stopped 
 him to ask why he didn t go ahead. 
 
 " You ve got a capital mouth for a set of teeth ! " said he. 
 
 " I know it," said I ; " I always keep a set on hand." 
 
 " Yes," he said again ; " but these are giving out they 
 won t .last a month half of em are decayed now." Here 
 he gave them a push this way and that, till the whole 
 seemed in a painful dance round my mouth, and I yelled 
 with misery. 
 
 " I don t see," said he, " why any one will suffer so, when 
 he can have them out so easy, and new ones supplied. Let 
 me take yours out, and I ll put you in a set that will be 
 more beautiful than the real ones ever were. Besides, I 
 will hire you to grin at all public places, to show their 
 superiority." 
 
 " Insidious tempter," said I, quite cured ; " you are 
 rather worse in your proposition than the undertaker. I 
 cannot think of it. Farewell." 
 
 And thus I left him. That same afternoon I received a 
 visit at my lodgings where I had located my office 
 from a tall, grave-looking gentleman, with spectacles on, 
 who asked me in a slow, measured voice, if I was the 
 model man. I told him such was my profession. 
 
 " Then," said he, " as I am a man of very few words, and 
 
 19 
 
218 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 never say a great deal, deeming that talking, while it con 
 sumes the time, is really no great- benefit to conversation, 
 inasmuch as a short horse is soon curried, and a fool is 
 known by his much babbling, according to holy writ, which 
 it becomes us all to respect being, therefore, as I said, a 
 man of few words, and desiring to avoid all circumlocution 
 in getting at my object an object, I may say, that I have 
 given some thought, and seen in it an advantage to another 
 object that has long engrossed attention being of a few 
 words, allow me to ask you, sir, if you ever dwelt upon 
 wooden legs ? " 
 
 He fixed his spectacles on me as he concluded, which 
 burnt into my brain like two red hot interrogation points. 
 
 " Never," said I, " never ; " not guessing his meaning. 
 
 " Then," continued he, " to come to the subject in the 
 shortest possible way, with the least expenditure of breath, 
 inasmuch as we have none of us any to spare where pure 
 air is as scarce as lawyers in heaven employing a saying 
 derived from an ancient theological writer, though I trust 
 not true would you like to be a model, now, to show off 
 around town a wooden leg we have achieved, that puts 
 anatomy, physiology, and humbugs of that kind at defi 
 ance, sir ? " 
 
 I had risen to my feet when I got at his meaning, and 
 when he had concluded, I yelled out "No!" in a tone that 
 made the candelabra on the mantel chatter .with affright. 
 
 " Very well," said he ; " your manner, though abrupt and 
 uncourteous, pleases me. I always study brevity, and like 
 it in others." Saying this he left me. 
 
 I that afternoon went to New York with the little money 
 I had saved, and soon became independent in the leather 
 watch guard business in Nassau Street. I was never a 
 model man afterwards, though virtue and propriety have 
 been, I may say, my grand characteristics. 
 
WOEK OF THE OLD MASTEKS. 219 
 
 WORK OF THE OLD MASTERS. 
 
 IN the schools kept forty years ago, and perhaps later, 
 the ferule was the emblem of authority, and a picture I 
 once saw, illustrative of the -"Work of the Old Masters/ 
 not in Jarves s collection, represented a boy under 
 going flagellation with just such an instrument, in the 
 hands of the conventional, lean, and lank individual desig 
 nated the Schoolmaster. The picture was interesting to 
 me as feelingly recalling scenes wherein I had taken un 
 willing part, no more pleasant than this the contortions 
 of the boy revealing a far from beatific state of mind under 
 the progress of the work. Who of the older boys does 
 not remember the day and dominion of ferules ? Every 
 master was supplied with one, either lying ready for use 
 upon his desk or stuck in a socket by its side, in open 
 sight of the scholars, held as my friend the linguist 
 says in Latin, which he speaks like his mother tongue 
 "in te Deum over them." There was often an exercise of 
 fancy and taste in the form of the ferule, and the charac 
 ter of the master could be gathered from the implement 
 employed to enforce his authority. The same peculiarities 
 were apparent in the use. Some were but botches and 
 bunglers, their simple aim being to get through with the 
 flogging as soon as possible, striking heavily and in ear 
 nest : but the performance bore none of the masterly 
 touches of genius. Others refined upon punishment, their 
 motive apparently being to manifest to their subjects the 
 superiority of their mode of " laying on" to that of any 
 one else. I remember the first ferule at which I trembled. 
 It was a formidable " ruler," of lignum-vitge, broad, thick, 
 
220 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 and long, and woe to the delinquent unfortunate enough to 
 be flogged with it !^ An aching hand for a week secured a 
 week s immunity from mischief; but oh, such hatred as it 
 enkindled, and such bitterness of spirit, and such nursing 
 of revenge, that even the good-nature of boyhood could 
 not lull into forgetfulness ! 
 
 The identical ferule, belonging to Master "W , the 
 
 last that I suffered under, has become mine, after a lapse of 
 thirty-five years. The master has long since passed away, 
 remembered kindly by thousands, who, though never spared 
 for faults, were ever encouraged in well-doing by him, who 
 had constantly their good at heart. The writer hereof 
 yields his tribute to his old master s worth, recalling the 
 benevolence of his smile and the gentle words of admoni 
 tion and loving counsel that marked their last interview. 
 The ferule, as a relic, released a crowd of old-time memo 
 ries, and reflections that took the form of rhyme, which 
 he here appends. They rather apply to the general ferule 
 than the particular ; and that its dominion has ceased is a 
 matter for hearty gratulation, though the tyranny that 
 prompted its use still exists in a degree ; but that is dying 
 out before the light of to-day s progress. 
 
 THE OLD FERULE: 
 
 GRIM relic of a distant time, 
 More interesting than sublime ! 
 Thou rt fitting subject for my rhyme, 
 
 And touch st me queerly ; 
 Unlike the touch that youthful crime 
 
 Provoked severely. 
 
WOEK OF THE OLD MASTERS. 221 
 
 It was a dark and fearful day 
 
 When thou held st sovereign rule and sway, 
 
 And all Humanity might say 
 
 Could not avert 
 The doom that brought thee into play, 
 
 And wrought us hurt ! 
 
 Ah, Solomon, that dogma wild, 
 Of sparing rod and spoiling child, 
 Has long thy reputation soiled, 
 
 And few defend it ; 
 Our teachers draw it far more mild, 
 
 And strive to mend it. 
 
 Oh ! bitter were the blows and whacks 
 That fell on our delinquent backs, 
 When, varying from moral tracks, 
 
 In youthful error, 
 Thou mad st our stubborn nerves relax 
 
 With direst terror. 
 
 I know twas urged that our own good 
 Dwelt in the tingle of the wood 
 That scored us as we trembling stood, 
 
 And couldn t flee it ; 
 But I confess I never could 
 
 Exactly see it. 
 
 The smothered wrath at every stroke 
 Was keenly felt, though never spoke, 
 And twenty devils rampant broke 
 
 For one subdued, 
 And all discordances awoke 
 
 A fiendish brood. 
 19* 
 
222 PAETINGTONIAN TATCHWOEK. 
 
 And impish trick and vengeful spite 
 Essayed with all their skill and might 
 To make the balance poise aright ; 
 
 And hate, sharp-witted, 
 Ne er left occasion, day or night, 
 
 To pass omitted. 
 
 I see it now : the whittled doors, 
 The window-panes smashed in by scores, 
 The desecrated classic floors, 
 
 The benches levelled, 
 The streaming ink from murky pores, 
 
 The books bedevilled. 
 
 Small reverence for Learning s fane, 
 For master s toil of nerve and brain, 
 They saw Instruction marred with pain, 
 
 And Alma Mater 
 Was thought of only by the train 
 
 To deprecate her. 
 
 Tis strange to have thee in my grasp, 
 My fingers round thy handle clasp ; 
 No sense of pain my feelings rasp, 
 
 As last I knew thee ; 
 Then thou didst sting me like an #sp, 
 
 Foul shame unto thee ! 
 
 But gentler moods suggest the thought 
 That still thine office, anguish-fraught, 
 For my best good unselfish wrought, 
 
 Had I but known it, 
 And I, with grateful spirit, ought 
 
 To freely own it. 
 
GRAPE-SKINS. 223 
 
 Perhaps but I am glad at heart 
 
 That thou no more bear st sovereign part 
 
 In helping on Instruction s art 
 
 By terror s rule 
 That other modes will prompt the smart 
 
 Than this in school. 
 
 Thanks, old reminder of the past, 
 For this brief vision backward cast ; 
 We measure progress to contrast 
 
 Times far and near, 
 Rejoiced, on summing up at last, 
 
 We re not arrear. 
 
 GRAPE-SKINS. 
 
 I SAW a man of portly estate 
 Walking the street with regal gait ; 
 Just the man that the eye well suits, 
 Proper and nice from hat to boots. 
 So perfect his coat, so neat his vest, 
 An exquisite taste was manifest, 
 And every one who chose to scan 
 Could only say, " What a tasteful man ! " 
 
 Alas for the glory of human pride, 
 
 As frail and fickle as the tide ! 
 
 For the polish of blacking and brush and oil 
 
 One little spatter of mud may spoil. 
 
224 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 E en as he walked the pave along, 
 With head exalted and footstep strong, 
 He trod on a grape-skin in his way, 
 And a man disgraced in the dirt he lay ! 
 
 This moral I drew from what I saw : 
 There are men in the world without a flaw, 
 Who are in such robes of sanctity found, 
 And such rare virtues engirt them round, 
 That we humble ourselves, as we pass them by, 
 With reverent and admiring eye, 
 Saying, while viewing such merits rare, 
 " Bless us, what good men they are ! " 
 
 But alas for the glory of human pride, 
 As frail and fickle as the tide ! 
 In the world of men they exalt their horn, 
 As though of a better clay they were born. 
 But there in their path the grape-skins wait, 
 Temptations hidden perhaps till late 
 One step of the foot one curvetting lurch, 
 And down they come from their eminent perch. 
 
 In dress or morals tis much the same ; 
 And happy is he who wins his fame, 
 If he die at its zenith, nor has to wait 
 Till he slip and fall through invidious fate. 
 He may dodge the rock and shy the cloud 
 That threat his step and bearing proud, 
 But let him not crow till danger s past 
 He may by a grape-skin be overcast. 
 
THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL. 225 
 
 THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL. 
 
 MANY years ago there lived in our town two young per 
 sons that every one said were made expressly for each 
 other; and that the parties thought so to, was very evi 
 dent from the way in which they sought each other s so 
 ciety. It was rare to meet one without the other at 
 church, or on a ramble in the romantic places about the 
 town, on the old bridge that crossed the brook in the 
 meadow, in the forest path that led down by the ruin of 
 the mill where the man was sawn into slabs by a gang 
 saw, at every rustic party where candy and kisses ruled 
 the hour, they were always together ; and a more loving 
 couple never were seen than they. They obtained the 
 sobriquet of " The Turtle Doves/ and as they moved 
 along so very lovingly, the young girls would look after 
 them very wistfully, and wish that Heaven had made them 
 such a dear, nice, pretty, agreeable young man as was 
 Walter Kymes, and the young men had a similar wish 
 about Jennie Laurel, who was called "the village belle. 
 
 And she was pretty. I remember her very well, and 
 before her entire absorption by Walter Rymes, I had what 
 a maiden aunt of mine denominated, very unpoetically, a 
 " sneaking notion," after her myself; had twice escorted 
 her home from singing school, and once had pressed upon 
 her acceptance a large pippin apple, at which she was 
 quite grateful ; but Byrnes cut me out at thS singing 
 school, the gift of the apple was forgotten, and so was I. 
 But like a philosopher I endured to see the attachment 
 strengthen between them without howling about "Re 
 venge ! " or enacting any other melodramatic absurdity. I 
 
226 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 was assured by my venerable relative mentioned above, 
 that there was as good fish in the sea as ever were caught ; 
 and rightly applying the soothing remark, I took to smok 
 ing, and merely puffed a little more vigorously at the con 
 tinual evidence of Rymes s triumph. 
 
 That she was beautiful I could prove by a daguerro- 
 type of her upon my memory, not heart, but memory, 
 which the changes of time and circumstances have not 
 dimmed. The only difficulty would be to get at it, and 
 my powers of description are somewhat limited. She was 
 a fine buxom lass, with flesh enough upon her bones for 
 one and a half of the common sort of women. Her cheeks 
 were of the most unsentimental cast, red and glowing, 
 her hair golden, and lay in curls all about her head, and 
 her eyes were bewitching of an indefinable color, for it 
 was impossible to look in them long enough to detect any 
 thing but the spirit of mischief that dwelt in them that 
 looked through their half-closed lids like a sword ready to 
 start from its scabbard. Her complexion was white and 
 transparent, and her shoulder ! The attempt were alto 
 gether vain that would do justice to charms like hers. 
 
 And Kymes seemed like a happy man. He walked the 
 streets gayly, and whistled at his business, which was 
 that of foreman and cutter to the tailor of the village, 
 and was envied and quizzed, and laughed at to any 
 extent, all of which he bore with cheerfulness, because 
 he was the one that had the best righ t to laugh the 
 winner. 
 
 And thus matters were, when the ambition that plays 
 such havoc with the young, found entrance at the door of 
 Kymes s heart, and he thought to himself that the position 
 of journeyman tailor in a small town was not a very high 
 one, and he thought very nearly right, resolving, very sen 
 sibly, that he would leave the " gay and festive/ that the 
 
THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL. 227 
 
 village afforded, and, with the hope of winning fortune 
 and Jennie, go to some big city where he could have room 
 for his gigantic ejaergies, and make money, and get mar 
 ried. Jennie was the sunlight that warmed his ambition 
 into life, her smile fringed his future with joyous successes, 
 her voice called him to duty in the big world. And how 
 true they were both going to be ! The everlasting hills 
 might melt away like snow-flakes, but their loves should 
 be more substantial than the everlasting hills, and would 
 not melt away. 
 
 Thus they parted. 
 
 I heard from those acquainted with the parties, that let 
 ters, warm, glowing, and frequent, passed between them ; 
 that Byrnes was succeeding beyond his expectations, and 
 predictions were rife that a wedding would soon take 
 place. About a year after he left the town, I followed 
 him, and by queer chance, found myself in the same city 
 with him, and beneath the same roof. The lady who kept 
 the boarding-house was a towns-woman of ours, and her 
 hotel was the natural resort of people of our place who 
 visited the city. There always are such resorts in every 
 city, where people from all parts of the world meet and 
 smoke, and talk with friends from the old town or the old 
 country. And such associations keep alive our home sym 
 pathies and love for early scenes, all a lifetime, which, but 
 for them, might have died out or grown dim in the damps 
 and fogs of earthly care. Those quiet reminders of home 
 those domestic oases in the great waste of cities are 
 of much benefit, and the homesick are drawn towards 
 them instinctively by the attractions of common interest, 
 to find there some motherly old heart to confide in, whose 
 counsels and sympathies come to the disconsolate, like the 
 dew on the flowers, giving them new hope and new strength 
 in the encounter of life. There, too, companionship may 
 
228 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 be renewed, and old joys be discussed, and old hopes bo 
 recalled, verified or not in the great arena of Aftertime. 
 There are those, however, who take no .pleasure in such 
 places, and have no attraction there who are hard-faced 
 and self-sufficient, and ask no sympathy from any. Such 
 may be thosQ we have loved as boys, and we feel pained 
 as we find them passing b} r us in the street without sign 
 of recognition, evincing their forgetfulness of the scenes in 
 which we were sharers, and all because the old boarding- 
 house down in some dark street has been overlooked, 
 where the lamp of loving memory is kept burning, and 
 where the ties of dear companionship remain intact and 
 unbroken. 
 
 " Ah ! my boy, how are ye ? " said a voice in the serene 
 twilight that pervaded the little parlor of the boarding- 
 house on the afternoon of the day that I had arrived by 
 the eastern stage. I had been seized, upon my arrival, by 
 the landlady, and called to answer a thousand questions 
 about the old place, which had been poured upon me with 
 such volubility that I was rather exhausted, when the voice 
 and its hearty tone came with a sense of relief, and turn 
 ing round hastily I recognized Walter Kymes. But how 
 unlike the old-time Walter was he ! He had undergone a 
 metamorphosis, to be sure. He was dressed in the height 
 of fashion, his hair was profusely curled, and a pair of 
 elaborate whiskers adorned his cheeks. 
 
 He shook me warmly by the hand, a gain and again, 
 asked me when I arrived, and when I was going away, 
 the invariable sequence, and inquired after the old place 
 very affectionately. I answered the last question first, and 
 assured him that every thing was all right. 
 
 " By the way, Kymes," said I, " I saw Jennie yesterday. 
 She s just as charming as ever blooming as a rose 
 sweet as a pink. Ah, you re a lucky fellow ! " 
 
THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL. 229 
 
 I really felt that he was a lucky fellow, and enforced iny 
 remark with a touch, just above the waistband, near where 
 anatomists and fact locate the heart.- He colored a little, 
 looked down, drew a line on the faded three-ply carpet 
 with the toe of his glossy boot, but made no reply. I 
 thought this very strange, but imputed it to modesty, and 
 the tender sentiment that allows none to obtrude upon the 
 sanctity of the feelings, and made no further remark upon 
 the subject. 
 
 I found Walter a great favorite, especially among the 
 ladies of the house. He was gay and handsome, two 
 powerful reasons for his popularity, and I soon saw that 
 if he were not spoiled, he was in a fair way to be spoiled. 
 There was no party to which he was not invited ; he was 
 the chaperon of fair damsels to theatres and concerts, to 
 balls and suppers he was a welcome addition, and every 
 Sunday he slept in a fashionable church in the most ap 
 proved mode. But Walter was lacking, I soon detected, 
 in the substantial element of sound sense, and his intel 
 lectuality was not of the order that characterized a Chan- 
 ning" or a Story, for profundity. With him show was 
 every thing, and the tinsel and glitter of life were all of its 
 gold. 
 
 I was surprised one Sunday morning by having Walter 
 take me by the button in a very mysterious manner, and 
 then, after looking in every direction to see that there were 
 none observing him, he whisked me into his room, and 
 closed his door. At first I deemed there might be some 
 danger, seeing that he removed the key, and placed it in 
 his pocket, hung his hat upon the handle of the door 
 in order to cover up the key-hole, and took other precau 
 tionary steps that seemed scarcely called for under ordi 
 nary pacific circumstances ; but seeing no more than the 
 
 usual fire in his eye, I ventured to ask, 
 20 
 
230 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 "What s the row?" 
 
 Putting his mouth close to my ear, he whispered, 
 
 "Can you keep a secret?" 
 
 I assured him that I positively thought I could, and 
 would give him evidence of it if he confided in me, Bind 
 ing myself by any penalty he might propose. 
 
 " Well, then," he began, pulling his chair in front of 
 mine, and bending forward, " you remember my little affair 
 with Jennie ; you spoke of her the day we met. 7 Twas 
 a pleasant little affair enough when I was there ; but faith, 
 there are so many attractions pulling all ways here, that 
 such rustic emotions must change, you know. To tell the 
 truth, I ve got tired of Jennie tip-top girl, and all that ; 
 but, 3 T ou know, she s rustic as the doose." 
 
 " Well," said I, somewhat surprised, " what next ? " 
 
 " Why, the fact is, my dear boy," continued he, " I want 
 to write her a letter, breaking off the little engagement 
 between us ; but I don t know exactly how to go about 
 it. I want to express for her the warmest friendship, but 
 to regard the old love passage between us as nothing more 
 than a mere childish whim. I want to do it so that it may 
 not break her heart, for I don t wish to injure the poor 
 thing." 
 
 I could scarcely refrain from laughing in his face, but 
 kept my countenance, and answered him that if he wanted 
 such a letter written he had better write it. 
 
 " That s just it ; I want to, but don t "know how. Now 
 I believe you can do it, and if you will, I shall consid 
 er myself very much your debtor. You will won t 
 you?" 
 
 I could not resist such importunity; so I drew up to the 
 little yellow painted table, with which every boarding- 
 house is supplied, and he, placing his chair next to mine, 
 glanced over my shoulder, whilst I wrote as follows : 
 
THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL. 231 
 
 "BOSTON, June 1, 18. 
 
 "Miss LAUREL: It is a painful task that I have to per 
 form, involving as it does much that is regretted by myself, 
 and much that I fear will be offensive to you, affecting, as 
 it docs, essentially, the pleasant relations that have so long 
 subsisted between us. The feeling of attachment that we 
 encouraged, I have found, upon mature examination, to 
 be but a childish sentimentalism, rather than love, which 
 should be rightly understood, in order that we may assume 
 our true position towards each other. I have therefore 
 thought best to write you this, expressing my warmest ad 
 miration for you as a woman the enjoyment of whose 
 friendship I shall always prize as the brightest page of my 
 life s history, and the continuance of which, as friendship, 
 I should prize above rubies. Wishing for you the choicest 
 Blessings in life, I remain 
 
 "Yours, very unworthily, 
 
 " WALTER BYMES." 
 
 I submitted it to him, and he read it over as well as 
 he could, for my chirography was not of the Duntonian 
 school, pronouncing it a very fine letter, and assuring me 
 that he could scarcely refrain from weeping as he read it. 
 But that was all in his eye. He locked it up carefully in 
 the drawer of the little yellow table, and we went down 
 stairs. I saw by the appearance of things that there was 
 some fun afloat. A broad grin rested upon the faces of 
 all the boarders, and several positive winks gave me to 
 understand that there was a secret resting among them 
 somewhere that was aching to get out. 
 
 " So Kymes has told you his secret ? " said one, when 
 Walter had gone. 
 
 " Yes/ said I ; " but what do you know about it ? " 
 
232 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 " As much as you do," said he ; " he has told it to every 
 one in the house." 
 
 Another one coming up, a jolly dog, chucked me 
 under the ribs, and in a mysterious m aimer begged me not 
 to tell that secret to any living being ! I found it was 
 really known to all in the hous e, but said nothing. 
 
 Walter copied my letter, adopting his own orthography 
 in many instances, but preserving the phraseology very 
 generally, and with the ^ same mystery that had attended 
 its conception, I was called to look it over. I saw it ad 
 dressed, and deemed that now my share in the business 
 was at an end. That night I received a letter from our 
 town, calling upon me to come home for a particular pur 
 pose, and as the letter had not been sent, I volunteered to 
 carry it. I accordingly became the bearer of despatches, 
 and all the way during the sixty miles that I rode in the 
 stage, I was imagining how the letter would be received, 
 preparing myself for a fainting fit or two, and reproaches, 
 and tears, and the usual scenes attendant, as per romances, 
 on sundered ties and broken vows. 
 
 I called upon Miss Jennie Laurel as soon as I arrived, 
 and was received as an old friend should be. She threw 
 her arms around my neck and kissed me with a warmth 
 that gave my conscience a twinge for my complicity in the 
 guilty letter which still reposed in my pocket. 
 
 " And so you are a Boston fellow ! " said she, feeling of 
 the quality of my coat as she spoke, and inspecting me 
 from top to toe. 
 
 "Yes," said I, "and I board with Walter Eymes. I 
 have a letter for you in some of my pockets." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried she, clapping her hands, " that s prime ; he 
 is such a fool, and we always have fine fun with his letters. 
 I always show them to the girls." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said I ; " then you must care a great deal for 
 him." 
 
THE LETTER OF DISMISSAL. 233 
 
 " Care for him ! Why, I never cared for him except as a 
 walking-stick." 
 
 " Here is his letter," said I, extending the missive. 
 
 She took it and began to read, and I could see her eye 
 sparkle as she proceeded ; but what the particular emotion 
 was, whether of grief or anger, I could not determine. 
 At last she screamed out with a gushing laugh, as musical 
 as a summer brook. 
 
 " J Tis a letter of dismissal. Oh ! it is delightful the 
 only sensible letter he ever wrote me in his life." 
 
 I thought her cold-hearted, and I found that my former 
 passion had lost its power over me. 
 
 " Well," said she, " you must carry my answer back, and 
 I hardly know what to say, either. I wish I could get you 
 to write a few lines for me." 
 
 " With pleasure," said I, laughing at the oddity of writ 
 ing an answer to my own letter, and taking out my pencil, 
 wrote as follows : 
 
 " RIVER BRINK, June 5. 
 "MB. WALTER EYMES. 
 
 " Sir : Yours received. Such a step as you have taken 
 was quite necessary on the part of one of us, as I am to 
 be married on Wednesday next. Your friendship would 
 be no more agreeable than your love. 
 " I am ; sir, 
 
 "JENNIE LAUREL." 
 
 She read over what I had written, blushed a little, smiled 
 a little, and whispered, 
 
 " If you had said Sunday instead of Wednesday, you 
 would have come nearer the truth/ 7 
 
 " Indeed ! " said I, surprised ; and then she told me the 
 story of an immense ship carpenter, \vho had been court- 
 
 20* 
 
204 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 ing her as powerfully as only a ship carpenter can. court, 
 for six months, and that she had consented to marry him 
 on the next Sunday night, the only difficulty in the way 
 being her connection with Walter, and she feared his heart 
 would break to lose her. His letter came very opportune 
 ly, and she was happy to be released from the fear of caus 
 ing him evil, even at the expense of her pride. 
 
 She copied the letter, and I carried it to Walter, and he 
 enjoyed the triumph of the dismissing party. Jennie was 
 married at the time she named, moved down east, and be 
 came the mother of a large family of good-natured chil 
 dren. Walter left our house soon after, and I lost sight 
 of him for many years. One day, about three years since, 
 while passing up State Street, I heard my name called by 
 a very ordinary looking fattish man, slightly grizzled, whom 
 I did not at once recognize. 
 
 " What," said he, " don t know Rymes ? don t remem 
 ber the letter of dismissal ? " 
 
 I shook him by the hand, and inquired regarding his 
 welfare. 
 
 " All right," said he ; "got married, and made money by 
 it needn t do a stitch of work again as long as I live." 
 
 " Are you happy in your marriage relations ? " I asked. 
 
 " There," said he, in a whisper, " is just where the shoe 
 pinches ; and if it wasn t for the confounded relations by 
 marriage, I should get along very well." 
 
 " Mr. Rymes ! " screamed a shrill voice"; and looking in 
 the direction from whence it came, I saw an obese look 
 ing woman, very slatternly and last-yearly in fashion, beck 
 oning my friend towards her with a faded parasol. 
 
 " You will please excuse me," said he ; " my wife is call 
 ing me. We live out of town. Come and see us. She 
 will be delighted to get acquainted with you. You will 
 like her but have you a mother-in-law ? " 
 
MY FEIEND S SECRET. 235 
 
 Before I had a chance to reply he was again summoned 
 by the shrill voice, and shaking my hand violently, he 
 darted away, harely escaping the wheels of a coal-cart that 
 was going along. 
 
 Poor Byrnes ! I never saw him again, hut I heard soon 
 after that he was dead ; and I could not help suspecting 
 that that mother-in-law was somehow responsible for his 
 demise. 
 
 MY FRIEND S SECRET. 
 
 I FOUND my friend in his easy chair, 
 
 With his heart and his head undisturbed by a care; 
 
 The smoke of a Cuba outpoured from his lips, 
 
 His face like the moon in a semi-eclipse j 
 
 His feet, in slippers, as high as his nose, 
 
 And his chair tilted back to a classical pose. 
 
 I marvelled much such contentment to see 
 
 The secret whereof I begged he d give me. 
 
 He puffed away with re-animate zest, 
 
 As though with an added jollity blest. 
 
 " I ll tell you, my friend," said he, in a pause, 
 
 " What is the very identical cause. 
 
 " Don t fret ! Let this be the first rule of your life ; 
 
 Don t fret with your children, don t fret with your wife ; 
 
 Let every thing happen as happen it may, 
 
 Be cool as a cucumber every day ; 
 
 If favorite of fortune or a thing of its spite, 
 
 Keep calm, and believe that all is just right. 
 
236 PAKTIXGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " If you re blo\vn up abroad or scolded at home, 
 Just make up your mind to let it all come ; 
 If people revile you or pile on offence, 
 Twill not make any odds a century hence. 
 For all the reviling that malice can fling, 
 A little philosophy softens the sting. 
 
 " Run never in debt, but pay as you go ; 
 A man free from debt feels a heaven below ; 
 He rests in a sunshine undimmed by a dun, 
 And ranks mid the favored as A No. 1. 
 It needs a great effort the spirit to brace 
 Gainst the terror that dwells in a creditor s face. 
 
 " And this one resolve you should cherish like gold, 
 It has ever my life and endeavor controlled, 
 If fortune assail, and worst comes to worst, 
 And business proves bad, its bubbles all burst, 
 Be resolved, if disaster your plans circumvent, 
 That you will, if you fail, owe no man a cent." 
 
 There was Bunsby s deep wisdom revealed in his tone, 
 Though its depth was hard to fathom I own ; 
 " For how can I fail," I said to myself, 
 "If to pay all my debts I have enough pelf?" 
 Then I scratched my sinciput, battling for light, 
 But gave up the effort, supposing twas right ; 
 And herein give out, as my earnest intent, 
 Whenever I fail to owe no man a cent. 
 
THE WIFE CUKER. 237 
 
 THE WIFE CURER. 
 
 up in the country ? " I queried, as I met my 
 friend Burner in the street a few days since. I hadn t 
 seen him for some time, and he looked browned and very 
 rough, as if he had been exposed to the country sun. He 
 informed me that he had, and that he had been to visit 
 Tim Somers, a mutual friend of ours, who had moved away 
 from town many years before. After inquiries concerning 
 his visit, and his enjoyment during the warm months, con 
 versation reverted to our old friend. t 
 
 " I never was more surprised in my life," said Burner, 
 " than I was to see him in the depot at Ramshead. I had 
 quite forgotten that he was located there." 
 
 I informed him that I had also forgotten it, though I be 
 lieved his wife s relatives were living there. 
 
 " His wife s yes, yes," continued Burner ; " singular 
 woman that ! Did you know her ? " 
 
 "Yes," I replied; "she is a little, bustling, talkative 
 thing, full of fun and chat, and making her house merry by 
 the music of her voice. Nice little woman ! " 
 
 Burner looked at me a moment, and burst into a laugh, 
 to my great wonderment. I requested him, in a tone of 
 chagrin, to inform me what the deuse he was laughing at. 
 
 " Talkative ! " said he, when he could check in his 
 cachinnatory colt ; " I found her any thing but that, I tell 
 you. I never knew the lady when she lived in town ; but 
 a more taciturn body I never saw than I found her." 
 
 " Indeed ! " I remarked ; " then there must have been a 
 change, truly. Tell me about it." 
 
 I met Somers upon my arrival in the depot, and he 
 
238 PAETINGTOKIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 was very glad to see me, inquiring after his old friends, 
 and you with the rest. Through all his joy, however, I 
 saw that there was a vein of sadness ; and when I alluded 
 to his family, he appeared embarrassed, and disposed to 
 change the subject. I had no object in view in visiting 
 Bamshead, other than the change of scene, and did not 
 intend to remain there more than a day or two ; but meet 
 ing Somers led me to think that it would not be a bad 
 thing to tarry there a while, seeing that there was a beau 
 tiful pond of water in the vicinity, as I had seen from the 
 car as I came along, and a deep wood, denoting game. 
 Somers used to be great on those things, you know. I 
 hinted at our former sporting practices, and mentioned my 
 half resolution to stay; but instead of manifesting any in 
 terest in the subject, he sighed deeply, and replied, 
 
 " Burner, I haven t taken a pole in my hand nor put a 
 gun to my shoulder for five long years, and I never shall 
 again." 
 
 I looked at him with astonishment, but I knew that he 
 was sincere. I fancied that I saw a tear in his intelligent 
 eye, and my heart drew stronger towards him than ever. 
 I then quite resolved to stay, and ordered the porter of the 
 hotel to carry my baggage my valise and gun up to 
 the house, which was close by. My rod-cane I carried in 
 my hand. Taking Somers on my arm, we followed the 
 porter; and a few moments later found us seated in my 
 room, with a little rummer of claret negus between us 
 an excellent lubricator for a dusty day. 
 
 " Well, how are you prospering, Somers ? " I inquired, 
 wishing to penetrate, if possible, the mystery that en 
 shrouded him, deeming that it might be some business dif 
 ficulty in which he was involved. 
 
 " Doing capitally," he replied ; " haven t lost a dollar 
 since I came here. People have nicknamed me Lucky 
 Tom. How wrongly people judge in measuring men ! " 
 
THE WIFE CUKEB. 239 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" said I, as I saw the 
 cloud creep over his face, as you have, while standing on 
 the mountains, seen a shadow flitting across the meadow. 
 
 "I mean," said he, "that in measuring us, they take but 
 one feature into the account, and upon that base an hy 
 pothesis of happiness, or luck, as the case may be." 
 
 " Are you not happy ? " I asked, in a tone calculated to 
 win his confidence. 
 
 " I am far from it," he replied ; " indeed, a more misera 
 ble man is not to be found in these parts." 
 
 " In what regard ? " 
 
 " My wife is dumfe," he almost sobbed, in answer to my 
 question. 
 
 "Dumb?" I repeated; and, thinking to rally him, said, 
 in a jocular manner, " Well, that is a very singular thing to 
 be sad for! I know many husbands who would be too 
 happy to have such a calamity happen to them. Burns 
 says, 
 
 " An auld wife s tongue s a feckless matter; 
 
 and there s no contention in a house where a perpetual 
 silence is the bond of unity." 
 
 I saw that he was hurt, and hastened to remedy the evil 
 I had done. Taking him by the hand, I said, 
 
 "Tom, I assure you I would not wound your feelings 
 willingly. I am no less your friend than I ever was, and 
 no less worthy your confidence. Now, I wish you to tell 
 me the cause of your trouble, that I may share it with 
 you, or possibly alleviate it." 
 
 He hesitated a few moments, and then said, with con 
 siderable emotion, 
 
 "Well, Burner, old friendship is stirring within me, and 
 I shall do at its prompting that which I thought nothing 
 could wring from me. You remember how happy I was. 
 
240 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 There was not a man in the world who had more friends, 
 true friends, than I had. My home was a happy one 
 my wife pleasant, my children handsome and intelligent. 
 You never saw my wife, Burner ? " 
 
 My name in the connection sounded like an impreca 
 tion upon his wife, and the Burner a wrathful explosive 
 " burn her." Somers continued : 
 
 "When we moved up here, things went on in pretty 
 much the same pleasant way, until there came to the vil 
 lage a lady whom I had formerly known, and about whom 
 and myself there had been a Jittle gossip in old days. Our 
 acquaintance was renewed, and I visited her several times ; 
 made no cpncealment of my intimacy with her, and invited 
 my wife to accompany me, but she declined. . She wished 
 to make no new acquaintances, she said. There was a fre 
 quent visitor at my house, a relative of my wife s, who 
 poisoned her ears with suspicions that it was not right be 
 tween May Brennon and myself. She repeated the old 
 gossip, with additions, spoke of my visits to Miss Brennon, 
 and hinted at criminality, as that foul-minded class al 
 ways will, who, having small virtues of their own, conjure 
 up impure conceits regarding their neighbors, imputing 
 wrong where the strictest purity might not see occasion to 
 blush. I was returning home one summer evening on foot, 
 having spent the day in business at a town a few miles 
 from this, when, by a strange chance, a short distance from 
 town, I met Miss Brennon. It was ptfre accident that 
 brought us together, and she turned back with me, taking 
 my arm. We walked slowly, as the weather was warm, 
 and stopped a moment on the rustic bridge yonder to look 
 down into the stream, and say a few pleasant words about 
 old times. I saw some one pass by us as we stood there, 
 but was indifferent as to whom it might be, and bidding 
 my companion good by, I went home as happy as a 
 
THE WIFE CURER. 241 
 
 in anticipation of meeting the ones there that I loved so 
 well. I met with a cold reception. My bane was sitting 
 with my wife in council, and I read judgment on the face 
 that had too many times lately turned unkindly to 
 wards me. 
 
 " So you ve come, Mr. Hypocrite, have you?" was the 
 first salutation. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear, I have come," I replied, " though I 
 can scarcely see reason for the application of the name 
 to me." 
 
 " You cannot ! You who have just left that vile crea 
 ture, on whose account and in whose company you have 
 all day been absent from your home ! You cannot ! " 
 
 " I have been away all day on business," I said, as calm 
 as Socrates. "I was returning home, and encountered 
 Miss Brennon. We walked together a little way, and 
 then I left her for my pleasant home, and certainly did not 
 expect such a reception." 
 
 " You did not ! " said she, sneeringly ; " but you are 
 found out, sir ! You stood upon the bridge with your 
 arm around the strumpet s waist, and kissed her ! " 
 
 I felt aroused at this. I can bear any attack upon my 
 self, but the reflection upon Miss Brennon was too much 
 for me, who knew her pure character and exalted worth. 
 
 " It is a falsehood ! " I shouted, " and your informant is 
 a malicious and malignant falsifier ! " 
 
 The relative gathered herself up to go ; but before she 
 went, I gave her a lesson on lying and tale-bearing that 
 she has not forgotten yet. She has never crossed my door 
 since. As soon as she was gone, I turned to my wife, and 
 said ; 
 
 " As for you, madam, if you cannot make a better use 
 of your tongue, you had better never speak again." 
 
 I was heated, in a passion, and scarcely knew what I 
 21 
 
242 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 said; but the unkind words entered into her soul. I left 
 the house, and did not return for a long time. I found her 
 calmly and undisturbedly sitting where I had left her, but 
 she spoke not. She arose, and performed such duties as 
 were required of her, but she did not speak. Vainly I 
 addressed her : she made no reply. I grew alarmed. I 
 begged her to speak to me, but not one word would she 
 deign me. It has continued thus ever since. Not one 
 word has she uttered to me or any one. My home is 
 dismal as a tomb, or I would have invited you there." 
 
 He ceased his story, and I told him how much it had 
 interested me. 
 
 " But," said I, " have you tried no remedy to cure this 
 disease ? for disease it must be." 
 
 He told me that he. had not. 
 
 " Then," said I, " take me home with you, and if I don t 
 cure her, strike the spurs from my heel as an unworthy 
 knight." 
 
 I went home with the poor fellow, and found things 
 pretty much as he had represented. I was introduced to 
 the mistress of the mansion, who received me with a pro 
 found bow. 
 
 " A delightful home, madam, this of yours ? " said I, 
 glancing admiringly out of the window. 
 
 I looked towards her, as though expecting a reply. She 
 merely nodded her head. 
 
 "Are there many such in this vicinity, among the 
 hills ? " I persisted, looking her in the face. 
 
 She colored, as though she were confused. I found sub 
 sequently that I was the first stranger that he had dared 
 to take home for several years. I saw by her organism 
 that she was not naturally a bad woman, and divined at 
 once that she had vowed perpetual silence at the unkind 
 words of her husband, and that it needed but a single 
 word to break the spell which rested upon her. 
 
THE WIFE CUKEK. 243 
 
 I continued my engineering, making all manner of do 
 mestic inquiries regarding the children, of whom she ap 
 peared very fond, but could not elicit a word from her. I 
 next alluded to her husband and our old acquaintance, and 
 in the course of my remarks made some reflections, in a 
 playful way, upon the slight blemish in one of his eyes 
 the only fault in his really handsome face. I saw a shad 
 ow of chagrin rest upon her browj and a moment after, 
 when I praised him, a pleased expression effaced the cloud. 
 
 " Aha ! " said I to myself ; " here are pride and affec 
 tion, at any rate ; these springs have not dried up, and I 
 think that language may yet be unsealed." 
 
 A day passed, but nothing transpired save manoeuvres. 
 I have never tried so hard to make myself attractive as on 
 this occasion, and felt that I had succeeded, when on the 
 second morning she greeted me with a smile, and extended 
 her hand to me as I came from my chamber. I chatted 
 and rattled on about the town and its splendors, told of 
 new improvements, changing fashions, crinoline* and lovely 
 bonnets, all of which was listened to with evident interest. 
 Still she wouldn t speak, confound it ! I trembled for my 
 spurs. Something must be done. 
 
 " Mrs. Somers," said I very suddenly, " will you allow 
 me to look at the palm of your hand ? " 
 
 She extended her hand very. readily, and I gazed upon 
 it as though I were a wizard engaged in some trick of 
 necromancy involving the fate of the household. Looking 
 in her face, I relinquished her hand and sighed deeply. 
 She appeared surprised, and seemed as if expecting me to 
 say something. 
 
 " You may well be surpised at my conduct," I said, 
 "but your surprise would be overwhelming could I dare 
 tell you the motive o it. I cannot do this without com 
 promising others. I may say, however, that in your, hand 
 
244 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 
 
 I discern a power that may be employed for immense 
 good. There are lines in it that meet and diverge, and 
 come near together again without meeting. There is a 
 mystery ! " I looked at the hand again, rubbed my fore 
 head as though I were much perplexed, and went out ab 
 ruptly. I saw her face depicted in the glass as I passed 
 out, and it bore the expression of great wonder. 
 
 " How far is it to the top of Rattlesnake Hill, Somers ? " 
 I asked, at dinner time, as we sat at table. 
 
 " About fifteen miles ; why ? " he replied, and asked. 
 
 "Because I am going there to-night. I must be there .at 
 precisely midnight. I am going to gather a charm from 
 the old Battler s cave, through which I hope to obtain a 
 treasure that will compensate for all trouble and danger." 
 
 " You cannot go," said he, anxiously ; " the way is one 
 of peril. It is full of ravines and pitfalls, and the serpents 
 are very numerous." 
 
 I saw that his wife shared in his uneasiness, and her 
 looks said, " Don t go ! " plainer than words could speak. 
 
 " So much the better for my purpose," said I ; " were it 
 not attended with danger, that which I seek would be 
 valueless. I shall go; and more than this, I shall walk." 
 
 Somers and his wife exchanged looks, which I interpreted 
 to mean, " "Well, isn t he a queer one ? " and after a few 
 moments at table I left the house, telling. Somers that I 
 should be back by the morning. I accordingly struck out 
 stoutly for Rattlesnake Hill, accompanied by his uttered 
 blessing and his wife s inarticulate benison ; but when I 
 reached the first brook, I made my cane into a jointed fish 
 ing rod, and indulged till sundown in very fine sport. 
 The trout never bit with more avidity ; and having caught 
 a goodly string, I carried them to a farm-house not far 
 away, and had them cooked for my supper. Late in the 
 evening I returned to my friend Somers s, and enjoyed 
 
THE WIFE CUBER. 245 
 
 a fine night s rest upon his haymow. At daylight I 
 aroused the family by knocking at the door ; but I greeted 
 them with a simple shake of the hand, gazing abstractedly 
 at Mrs. Somers. She looked troubled. 
 
 " Somers/ said I, " please leave me a moment with your 
 wife. It is a matter that you may some time know, but 
 not at present. Have you not heard of my wonderful 
 development as a seer? " 
 
 He said he had not, but, without explaining, I pushed 
 him out and closed the door. I knew that he would listen, 
 however. 
 
 " Mrs. Somers," said I, " my mysterious movements are 
 fast growing to a climax. I last night plucked a dragon s 
 tongue from the mouth of the rattlesnake s den ; I laughed 
 with the midnight echoes, and stood face to face with the 
 darkness, in order to gain what I sought. Your hand, 
 please ; thank you. The lines are brought nearer to 
 gether, and it needs but one word of yours, in response to 
 an incantation that I shall utter, to make my mystic charm 
 complete. You must say, Yes, or all is as nought." 
 
 I looked wildly as I spoke, and I saw that she was, as it 
 were, spell-bound. 
 
 " And this is my incantation," I continued j " you swear 
 that you hate Tom Somers." 
 
 "No !" she almost shrieked. 
 
 Poor Tom had been listening. Fearing harm to his 
 wife from my supposed lunacy, and hearing the question I 
 had put, and the response, he rushed in, frantic with joy, 
 clasped her in his arms, kissed her over and over again, 
 and jumped about the room with the wildness of a mad 
 man. She did not seem to comprehend what she had 
 done for an instant, but when she remembered that she 
 had spoken, and divined the meaning of my cabalistic 
 
 efforts, she came near fainting with her emotion. 
 21* 
 
246 PAHTINGTONTAN PATCH WOEK. 
 
 " Tliank God ! the spell is broken ! " said she, " the hid 
 eous spell that has bound me to silence and sorrow so 
 long." 
 
 " The mystical word having been spoken," said I, " that 
 brought the diverging lines together, I am free to tell what 
 I sought at midnight on Rattlesnake Hill." 
 
 " What was it ? " they both asked in a breath. 
 
 " A woman s tongue ! " I replied ; " and since I have 
 found it, never allow any trifling cause to silence it again." 
 
 My theory was correct with regard to her not speaking. 
 She had vowed perpetual silence, and had kept -her vow 
 until brought to utter one word, by stratagem, which 
 had unsealed her tongue again. The children were de 
 lighted, and ran all around the neighborhood telling every 
 body that their mother could talk, and everybody rushed 
 in to ascertain what it meant. For a time it seemed as 
 though anarchy and confusion had become installed on 
 Tom Somers s hearthstone, to make up for the silence that 
 had so long brooded there, but he bore it all good-lm- 
 moredly. I left them a week afterwards, the happiest couple 
 you ever saw, and my midnight excursion to Rattlesnake 
 Hill was frequently alluded to. 
 
 "Did you really go there?" Mrs. Somers asked, the 
 morning before I came away. 
 
 "No ! " said I, imitating her emphatic accent of the same 
 monosyllable in reply to my incantation, and we had a 
 grand laugh about it ; Tom Somers swearing that my seer- 
 ship was the best ever known, and my magic had wrought 
 a happier effect than that of all the fairies he had ever seen 
 exhibited at the theatre. . 
 
 " Good by," said Burner, as lie finished his story, and he 
 left me well satisfied with the manner in which he had 
 spent his vacation. 
 
GOUT. 247 
 
 GOUT: 
 
 A SUBDUED CASE. 
 
 DEAR NANNIE, place my easy chair, 
 And give my foot the proper square 
 Be careful how you touch it ! THERE ! 
 
 That pang, just past, 
 Might cause an anchorite to swear, 
 
 Nor risk his caste. 
 
 And now my pen with acrid sting 
 And ink of verjuice hither bring, 
 That I may GOUT S demerits sing 
 
 In limped strains ; 
 A theme ignored a baleftil thing 
 
 It prompts my pains. 
 
 My muse is no ecstatic sprite, 
 To lead me, wildered, out of sight, 
 And breathe ineffable delight 
 
 In bird-like lays ; 
 Than this I try no higher flight 
 
 To win my baize. 
 
 But how describe the pain and ache 
 The surging, burning, shooting shake ; 
 The wrench, the rend, the twist, the break, 
 
 The anguish deep, 
 The while dire demons hold a wake 
 
 To murder sleep ! 
 
248 PAETINGTONTAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Milton has writ of Purgatory, 
 And Pollek a more lurid story, 
 And Dante raised h eat con amore, 
 
 But mine the worse, 
 Compared with which their highest glory 
 
 ? S not worth a curse. 
 
 But hold ! my pet canary there 
 Sings from his perch a gentle air, 
 Regarding me with tender care 
 
 In fear, twould seem, 
 His looks might fall on me somewhere, 
 
 To make me scream. 
 
 Entranced I listen pen suspent 
 To him strange fascination lent, 
 And his sweet song, the air besprent, 
 
 Thus seems to say 
 The while from me his eye intent 
 
 Turns not away : 
 
 " You surely make a great to-do 
 Ahout this thing that troubles you, 
 All selfishly forgetting, too, 
 
 The pain you make ; 
 Be just a bit to reason true, 
 
 For manhood s sake. 
 
 "And don t you see, my muddled friend, 
 Great good from pjreat ill may descend ? 
 And anguish, that the heart doth rend, 
 
 May give a birth, 
 Of grandest offices the end, 
 
 And priceless worth ? 
 
GOUT. 249 
 
 "So this same gout that you revile, 
 Though painful, doubtless, for a while, 
 May prove at last the creaming oil 
 
 The thought is valid 
 That makes antagonisms smile .* 
 
 In life s great salad. 
 
 " But for this gout would you have known 
 The myriad favors to you shown 
 The kindly hearts to you have flown, 
 
 Attentions dear, 
 The atmosphere of love outthrown 
 
 To give you cheer ? 
 
 " How friends have pressed, with smiling lips, 
 Freighted with fruits, like orient ships, 
 To lighten up your joy s eclipse, 
 
 While here you groan ; 
 And, from electric finger-tips, 
 
 Hope s seeds have sown ! 
 
 " What gives that crutch its magic power 
 To call more spirits than G-lendower ? 
 You d hammer like a thunder shower, 
 
 I greatly fear, 
 Did sympathy not ope a door 
 
 Through which to hear. 
 
 o 
 
 " A most ungrateful churl, at best, 
 You will nor reason manifest ; 
 Inside s a demon more a pest 
 
 Than this without ; 
 Disturbance of the spirit s rest 
 
 Is worse than gout. 
 
250 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 " Then stop complaint, and be a man ; 
 Be true, and your tormentor scan, 
 And ask, May it not be a plan 
 
 Your faults to snub ? 
 "Perhaps in them it all began, 
 
 And there s the rub." 
 
 The song here ceased. I dipped my pen, 
 But all the spite had left me then, 
 And simply shouting out, " Amen ! " 
 
 I gave it o er ; 
 Sure ne er a bird to mortal ken 
 
 Sang so before. 
 
 THE VENEKABLE SLEDGE. 
 
 WHEN the Venerable Sledge joined the Tweedleville 
 Church there was a sensation. He had been set down as 
 one of the hardest headed and hardest hearted among the 
 inevitably doomed ; and though he had done well by the 
 church, and helped support it, they had long since come to 
 the conclusion that the Venerable Sledge could not be 
 pointed to as a living light illustrative of the efficacy of their 
 labor. It was told of him that at one time a committee 
 was appointed to wait on him and expostulate with him 
 on some practices that would not, they conceived, help him 
 to any moral elevation. He met them with a smile, invited 
 them to take a little something for the stomach s sake, 
 which I am happy to say they declined, listened to all 
 they had to say, and without replying, asked them if a cer- 
 
THE VENEKABLE SLEDGE. 251 
 
 tain pew that he named was for sale, sending them back 
 with the assurance that he thought he should buy that 
 pew, which he did. 
 
 The Venerable Sledge joined the church, and though 
 those who knew him best did not see any very particular 
 change in him, his new associates were aware of a wonder 
 ful transformation. His jokes in which he still occasionally 
 indulged, were no longer the fruit of levity, but of inno 
 cent playfulness, and his laugh, which, before his joining, 
 was the outward expression of some unclean spirit, now 
 was the ebullition of a cheerful temper. 
 
 There was a picnic in a grove, gotten up for the delecta 
 tion and benefit of the small fry of the parish, and the old 
 were all invited to give counsel to the young by pres 
 ence and by word ; and they all went, the Venerable Sledge 
 among them. It was delightful to see him trudging to 
 wards the depot with his capacious basket, and his coat 
 pockets full to repletion with good things. Even the dogs 
 loo"ked pleased as he went along, and turned and followed 
 him a few steps, as if looking for an invitation, and then 
 ran away, licking their chaps, and undoubtedly regretting 
 that they belonged to some other parish. The picnic was 
 a great affair. The sponge-cake and doughnuts were the 
 lightest that ever were made, but the speeches were very 
 heavy, at least the children thought so, and the day 
 passed nominally happy, though in reality all that thought 
 any thing about it, as ever since picnics were invented, said 
 to themselves it was a bore, to be tolerated, however, for 
 the sake of the children. 
 
 The Venerable Sledge thought for a long while that he 
 was happy. He promenaded, and swung, and played Co 
 penhagen with a truly delightful temper, but at last his 
 laugh was forced, and his legs were weary ; his patience 
 gave out, and a large black ant, crawling up one of his feet 
 
252 PAETINGTOXIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 handles, broke him down completely. He vowed he never 
 would be caught in a like scrape again. I should like to 
 know one who has npt made the same resolution, and I 
 should like to know one who has ever kept it. 
 
 In a mood far from placid, with his hands thrust deep 
 down into his pockets, as if he were trying to keep some 
 thing from jumping out, the Venerable Sledge roamed about 
 like a perturbed spirit, whistling, "Ever be happy" an 
 injunction in wide contrast with his real feelings. The day 
 had seemed very long to him, but he knew it must come 
 to an end he had never known one to keep more than 
 twenty-four hours and the reflection had a touch of joy 
 in it. A voice accosted him. 
 
 "Mr. Sledge," said the Seductive Deacon Tung, touch 
 ing his arm ; " we are about taking up a contribution for 
 our Sunday School, and would like to have your name for 
 a five spot." 
 
 "Make it ten," said Sledge, in a very demonstrative 
 way. 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " replied Tung ; " he that giveth, you 
 know, lendeth, and so forth." 
 
 " What- building is that ? " asked the Venerable Sledge, 
 for the first time observing a very long building near, that 
 he had not seen before, with windows all along the sides ; 
 " is it a ropewalk ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said the Seductive Deacon, smilingly ; " and I 
 am surprised to hear you ask such a question that is 
 a bowling alley." 
 
 " And now I am floored," said the Venerable Sledge ; 
 "pray tell us what bowling is is it any thing like this? " 
 making his hand as near like a wine-glass as he could, 
 and pretending to drink. 
 
 " Bless you, no," replied the Seductive Deacon Tung ; 
 " it is a very innocent and harmless amusement and exer- 
 
THE VENERABLE SLEDGE. 253 
 
 cise, called by many ninepins. There are really ten pins, 
 though originally nine, the tenth being introduced to evade 
 a ridiculous law that proscribed ninepins. Let us see if we 
 cannot get in, and I will show you." 
 
 He went to the house near by, and returned with the key. 
 the Venerable Sledge taking a deep interest in the pro 
 posed lesson. 
 
 " Tis played with balls is it ? " said he, as he tried to 
 get hold of one of the big balls, which seemed to evade 
 his grasp and slip from his fingers. 
 
 " Yes," said the Seductive Deacon Tung, " the pins are 
 set up on the boards yonder. We stand at this end of the 
 alley, and, throwing the balls, knock down as many of the 
 pins as we can, and those who knock down the most win 
 the game." 
 
 The Venerable Sledge looked at the Seductive Deacon 
 and the man that owned the alley, who had come in hop 
 ing to get a quarter, and then at the board, and then he 
 tried to lift the ball again, making awkward work of it. 
 
 " If you think there d be nothing wrong in it," said the 
 Venerable Sledge to the Seductive Deacon, " I think I 
 should like to roll just once; not if there s any harm in it, 
 you know. I believe I could knock all the pins down at a 
 lick." 
 
 They did look tempting, for the man had stood up the 
 pins like a little army, and there they were as if challen 
 ging the prowess of the Venerable Sledge and the Seduc 
 tive Deacon Tung. The deacon said he did not consider 
 there would be the least harm in it, and proposed that they 
 should roll just for sport, the one who knocked down the 
 least to pay twenty-five cents for the use of the alley. 
 
 The Venerable Sledge selected a ball, at first spitting 
 on his hand ; then he moved first one way and then the other 
 way, stooping down and standing up, closing one eye and 
 
 22 
 
2;4 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 opening the other, thrusting out his tongue, and showing 
 all signs of nice calculation. At last he drew a line on 
 the pins ; but the ball sheered, and he made a positive fail 
 ure of it, much to his mortification ; the next time he hit 
 the outside pin with such vehemence that he came nigh 
 driving it through the end of the building ; the next time 
 he succeeded in bringing down two. 
 
 " My eyes ! " said he, when he had done ; " it looked easy 
 enough." 
 
 The Seductive Deacon carefully selected his ball, took 
 his position, gave a short run, and a large portion of the 
 pins went by the board ; the other throw was alike success 
 ful, and the third as much so, proving the Seductive Dea 
 con the winner. 
 
 " You are an old player at it, I guess," said the Venera 
 ble Sledge, paying the man the quarter, with evident mor 
 tification on his countenance. 
 
 " I have played some," replied the Seductive Deacon. 
 
 " Well," said the Venerable Sledge, " I believe I can do 
 better next time. Now, if you will roll to see who shall 
 pay the whole that we have subscribed to the Sunday 
 School fund, I am ready to do it. What say ? " 
 
 The Seductive Deacon smiled, for there was a strong 
 temptation in the proposition. It would be an easy way 
 to liquidate his subscription, and secure the same "benefit 
 to the school as though he paid it himself. Besides, it 
 would be a transaction between themselves, and it would 
 teach the Venerable Sledge a lesson. He would see by 
 his loss the truth of the Orphic saying, 
 
 " Children and fools 
 
 Mustn t play with edge tools." 
 
 " I ll do it," said he after a little hesitancy, " though I 
 am afraid you risk a little too much. Shall I roll first ? " 
 
THE VENERABLE SLEDGE. Page 255. 
 
THE VENERABLE SLEDGE. 255 
 
 " Yes," said the Venerable Sledge ; " and then I can see 
 how you do it." 
 
 They took their stand the Seductive Deacon still smil 
 ing in a very self-satisfied manner, justifying himself on the 
 plea that the end sanctifies the means. He made three 
 excellent hits, bringing down nearly all the pins every 
 time. At last it came the turn of the Venerable Sledge. 
 He took up the ball awkwardly, poised it as though it were 
 a hundred pound shell and he were afraid of its exploding ; 
 then his muscles grew very rigid, his lips compressed, his 
 eye was wonderfully clear, and the ball went from his hand 
 like an arrow to its target, sweeping down every pin at the 
 first sweep. 
 
 "A ten strike!" said the Venerable Sledge with won 
 derful familiarity with the terms of the alley: "Two 
 spares." 
 
 He looked at the Seductive Deacon, who stood in blank 
 astonishment, as though he were floored as completely as 
 the pins had been. 
 
 " I think," said the Seductive Deacon, faintly, "you must 
 be an old player." 
 
 The Venerable Sledge only replied by throwing another 
 ball with the same result, as if to clinch the matter, and 
 then they rejoined the picnic the Seductive Deacon Tung 
 satisfied that he had made an ass of himself. He paid the 
 subscription, but never thought the Venerable Sledge s 
 moral quality was any better than his own, though he 
 never said much about it. 
 
256 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 A HORSE-CAE, INCIDENT. 
 
 No matter what horse-car, but it happened that I had 
 to go a mile or two, and held up my cane to attract the 
 attention of the driver or the conductor of one of them, 
 which I did after some difficulty. I am bound to say it 
 was not on the Touchandgo road, for the officers employed 
 there have an instinctive knowledge whether a man wishes 
 to ride or not, and indeed often by the magic of the up 
 raised finger they draw people in to ride who had hardly 
 any previous intention of it. I have been attracted in this 
 way, and found myself to my astonishment, seated in the 
 car, confident that I had signified no disposition to do so. 
 In this instance, however, I would ride, and got in. 
 
 There were the usual passengers in the car the respec 
 table people going out of town, who were reading the 
 last editions of the papers, the women who had been 
 shopping, the servant girls who had been in to visit their 
 friends, feeling no interest in one another, and all absorbed 
 in their own reflections, as I was. I was thinking serious 
 ly, when my eye was attracted by some glittering ob 
 ject on the floor, beneath the opposite seat. 
 
 Of course everybody is attracted by glitter. A piece of 
 glass in the moonlight may be a diamond, .and show is far 
 ahead of substance in influencing men, from the illusion 
 which affects short-sighted vision. Thus this glittering 
 object. What was it ? a diamond pin dropped by a 
 former passenger? No, it could not be this, because it 
 appeared to be round, and bigger than a pin stone could 
 be. Could it be a bracelet ? No, for it was too small. I 
 directed my gaze more earnestly towards it in my doubt, 
 
A HORSE-CAK INCIDENT. 257 
 
 and saw that it was a QUARTER, bright and sparkling with 
 the freshness of new mint about it, so it seemed. 
 
 This I determined to make mine* at the first chance, for 
 a woman was sitting very near it, and I dreaded any con 
 fusion I might cause, by a sudden plunge, through the mo 
 tion of the cars ; so, whistling at a low breath, as if indif 
 ferent, but keeping my eye upon the prize, I awaited the 
 opportunity that should insure me the coveted one-and- 
 sixpence. It soon came : the bell rang, and the lady op 
 posite, with her arms full of bundles, walked out, leaving 
 the object of my ardent regard more distinctly in view. 
 It seemed to me that every one in the car had an eye on 
 that quarter, which I felt was mine by right of discovery, 
 and which I was determined to have. 
 
 As the coach started I rose and fairly tumbled over into 
 the just-vacated seat, taking care to drop in such a way as 
 to screen the glittering bait. I looked at my fellow-pas 
 sengers, and found that all were staring at me, as though 
 they were reading my secret. The conductor had come 
 inside the door, and was looking at me, and a heavy gen 
 tleman on the same seat with me leaned far out on his 
 cane, so that he could take in my whole person with his 
 glance, as though I were a piece of property on which he 
 had to estimate. I felt my face burn, and a general dis 
 comfort seized me, a.s a man sometimes feels when he has 
 done a wrong or a foolish act ; though I couldn t think the 
 act I was about to perform was wrong, and no one could 
 say it was foolish in one to try to get a quarter of a dol 
 lar in this day of postal currency. At length I stooped 
 down as if to adjust something about my boot, and slipped 
 the object of my solicitude into my hand, unseen, as I be 
 lieved. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked the conductor. 
 
 " What s what ? " said I, with affected smartness. 
 
 22* 
 
258 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 " What you just found," lie persisted. 
 
 " I was pulling my pants down over my boot," I pre 
 varicated. 
 
 " That s all humbug," said he ; ft you found something 
 in the car, and it belongs to the company." 
 
 " Prove that I found any thing," said I, angrily. 
 
 "Young man," said the voice of the big man who was 
 leaning on his cane, still looking at me, " it is as bad to 
 lie about a thing as it is to steal. I saw you pick some 
 thing up, and to me it had the appearance of money." He 
 struck his cane on the floor as he spoke, and grasped it 
 firmer, as if to clinch his remark. 
 
 " Yes," said the conductor ; " and we don t want nothing 
 of the kind here, and what s more, we won t have it ; so 
 hand over." 
 
 " My fine fellow," said I, prepared for a crisis, " I know 
 my rights, and, without admitting that I have found any 
 thing, I contend that if I had, in this public conveyance, 
 which is as public as the street to him who pays for a ride 
 in it, that which I find in it is mine after I have made due 
 endeavor to find out its owner. Money being an article 
 impossible to identify, unless it is marked, if I had found 
 it, it would have been mine according to Whately, Ly- 
 curgus, and Jew Moses." 
 
 " Hang your authorities," said he ; "I don t know any 
 thing about em, but this I know, that money belongs 
 to the Touchandgo Horse Railroad Company, and I ll have 
 it. Ain t I right, Mr. Diggs?" addressing a gentleman 
 With glasses on, reading the Journal. 
 
 " I think you are," replied he, looking at me over the 
 top of his spectacles, as though he were shooting from be 
 hind a breastwork ; " I think the pint is clear, and that it 
 belongs to the company to advertise it and find out the 
 
A HOESE-CAE INCIDENT. 259 
 
 " Well," I put in, " suppose they don t find the owner ; 
 who has it ? " 
 
 " The company, I should think/ said he, folding his pa 
 per preparatory to getting out. 
 
 " That s it," said the conductor, taking up the thread as 
 he put the passenger down ; " and now I want that money." 
 He looked ugly. 
 
 " What money ? " I queried. 
 
 " The money you picked up on the floor." 
 
 I saw that I was in a place of considerable difficulty, in 
 volving a row on one side and imputation of villany on 
 the other, and studied how to escape. 
 
 "Well," said I, "if, in spite of the authorities I have 
 quoted, you insist upon my giving this up which I hold in 
 my hand, the value of which I do not know, I shall 
 protest against your act, and . hold the company responsi 
 ble." 
 
 " Responsible be blowed," .replied he, severely ; 
 
 " shell out," 
 
 The people in the car were much excited. The fat man 
 on the seat had risen up, though still in sitting position, 
 and balanced himself upon his toes to get a better view. 
 I unclosed my hand and deposited in the conductor s a 
 round piece of tin that had been punched out by some tin 
 man and hammered smooth, bearing a close resemblance 
 to money ! 
 
 The disappointment of every one was intense. The 
 conductor intimated that if he met me in society he would 
 give me my money s worth, the fat man muttered some 
 thing about my being an. "imposture," several lady passen 
 gers looked bluely at me, and only one laughed heartily at 
 the whole affair, as I did. It was a queer incident. 
 
260 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWOBK. 
 
 THE OLD RED EAR. 
 
 THOU mind st me of the festal night 
 When, though the stars were shut from sight, 
 The fleet hours winged with footsteps light, 
 
 To pleasure s note, 
 And mirth and song put care to flight 
 
 To realms remote. 
 
 Ah, sweet the picture thou dost hring ! 
 Reseated in that magic ring, 
 We round the circle deftly swing, 
 
 As then we swung ; 
 While every way the husks we fling 
 
 The crowd among. 
 
 And merry joke and repartee 
 Dart to and fro with noisy glee, 
 And speech unloosed finds accent free 
 
 From mirthful lips, 
 As sweet as roses that the bee 
 
 Delighted sips. 
 
 Dim is the lantern s dusky glow 
 
 Upon the cereal heaps below, 
 
 But bright the wit in ceaseless flow, 
 
 And bright the gleam 
 Of eyes, above the gloom that throw 
 
 A brighter beam. 
 
THE OLD BED EAR. 261 
 
 The old grow young again to mark 
 The sounds that shatter in the dark, 
 Where boys and girls in playful lark 
 
 Their bent attain, 
 And fun, like an electric spark, 
 
 Smacks out amain. 
 
 Ah, crimson ear ! thou led st me through 
 A scene I d fain again renew, 
 That e en to ponder in review, 
 
 By memory s beam, 
 Enchants me till I sadden to 
 
 Dispel the dream. 
 
 What precious rights didst thou impart ! 
 How soon I learned them all by heart ! 
 How did my pulse in tumult start, 
 
 As thou, revealed, 
 Didst prove a key, whose dexterous art 
 
 E-are sweets unsealed ! 
 
 
 Ah, every kernel is a tongue 
 That speaks me back those scenes among ; 
 Through Time s back door, wide open swung, 
 
 A sight I see, 
 Of flowers of joy, at random flung, t 
 
 No more for me. 
 
 But such is doom, and such is best ; 
 And older hearts should seek for rest, 
 Nor in such fancy stocks invest 
 
 As husking bouts ; 
 They are for youth, tis manifest 
 
 The elders " outs." 
 
262 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 EXPERIENCES OF A LAME MAN. 
 
 MY fall on the ice last winter and the dislocation of my 
 hip were attended by evils of a serious nature, and they 
 have followed me ever since the great pain that attend 
 ed the hurt being followed as my wife who is a joker 
 has it by the great payin of the incidental bills that 
 seem to grow stronger every day, though it is now the 
 mosquito and fly season, when the seasonable bills are 
 superadded. I but yesterday received one from Dr. Bolus 
 to this effect, written in a style of calligraphy unsurpassa 
 ble for its obscurity : 
 
 MR. DODBLEDASH TO DR. BOLUS. DR. 
 
 To setting one hip $15.00 
 
 " two months medical attendance - . . 50.00 
 
 " medical attendance at office 10.00 
 
 Received Payment, $75.00 
 
 The bill was handed in by the doctor s collector, and after 
 some trouble we deciphered it. The setting a hip was 
 at first construed to mean setting a hen, the medical at 
 tendance musical attending, and the third charge, appear 
 ing to be a frantic attempt at Sanscrit, was too much for 
 us, saving the amount, which was remarkably distinct. 
 The luxury of disease has to be very severely paid for 
 the immediate need of a doctor shutting out all idea of 
 after payment, and the bill comes in upon our convales 
 cence like an Alpine avalanche of snow upon a summer 
 valley. In war as in sickness the same rule holds. We 
 need armies, and ships, and munitions, and we order them 
 regardless of the bill that will one day come in for them, 
 that is to be paid. 
 
EXPERIENCES OF A LAME MAN. 203 
 
 I said at the outset that the evil thus begun has ever 
 since followed me. Though every one of my friends knew 
 very well howl became lame that with my customary 
 gallantry I turned aside from the icy path to admit of the 
 passage of a crinoline of nearly the diameter of a load of 
 hay, and slipping fell, as Caesar fell at the base of Pom- 
 pey s statue still insinuations were rife, and nods and 
 finger ends made mischief whenever the affair was men 
 tioned, subjecting me to great annoyance. I was beset 
 with importunities to sign the pledge, grave people with 
 white chokers stopped me in the street on very slight 
 acquaintance, and cautioned me as to the tendency of hab 
 its whose indulgence was unworthy a Christian gentle 
 man, and a tract entitled the "Drunkard s Doom," was 
 put into my hands as I stood at the door of my own hired 
 house, by a woman with a blue nose and red spectacles, 
 or vice versa, as I was too much angered to remark dis 
 tinctly which. It was in vain I repelled the insinuations. 
 I was met with a sickly sort of pitying smile, and the re 
 mark, "Yes, yes, we know they all say so," and in 
 their minds insincerity was added to the original offence. 
 It has always been a proud stand for me, and which I have 
 taken in a spirit of moral defiance, that a name not well 
 enough grounded to be proof against malicious attacks 
 was not worth maintaining ; but here I have found myself 
 emphatically floored. 
 
 And these annoyances have been more than counter 
 balanced by the sympathy I have excited in the minds of 
 tender-hearted people who have jumped at the conclusion 
 that I am a wounded soldier. Many a sympathetic look 
 have I received, many a sympathetic word, on this suppo 
 sition, and have felt all the while as a conscientious scoun 
 drel might be supposed to feel who is receiving goods 
 under false pretences. One lady in the horse-cars one da"y 
 
2G4 PARTING TONIAX PATCHWORK. 
 
 asked me, in a very tender tone, where I received my 
 wound. I felt some delicacy about answering the ques 
 tion, not knowing whether she meant the particular bat 
 tle where it was received, or the locality of the wound. 
 I came to a consciousness of her meaning in time to say 
 " Hackmetack Court," when she made a note of it in order 
 to consult some map. 
 
 I have been consulted repeatedly regarding the con 
 struction of ambulances, and the location of hospitals, from 
 my supposed familiarity with them ; and with that weak 
 ness, if I may call it so, that desires consideration, I have 
 given my opinion with some freedom, involving no con 
 fession of how my Wound was received, it being taken for 
 granted that it was in gallant service, as it undoubtedly 
 was. I have been an object of unbounded admiration to 
 the boys, who have invested me with all sorts of dignities 
 and indignities, and I have overheard remarks as boys 
 are not over and above troubled with caution, or regard 
 for the feelings of others that have made my blood tin 
 gle, and my hand grasp my cane with the impulse that I 
 would like to beat the young rascals " Go it, yer crip 
 ple ! " being a favorite objurgation from their indecent lips. 
 I was invited, by the authorities of a city I visited on the 
 Fourth, to sit on the platform as one of the Union soldiers. 
 I could scarcely persuade them that I had no claim to such 
 distinction. 
 
 But the greatest annoyance that has happened to me in 
 consequence^ of my limp, was while I was on a visit to 
 Spunkville, remarkable for its patriotic proclivities. It was 
 late in the afternoon when I got off at the station, and I 
 became aware of the presence of a large crowd of people 
 larger by far than was to be expected in so small a 
 place and immediately, as I limped along the platform, 
 I was the observed of all observers. Something which I 
 
EXPERIENCES OF A LAME MAN. 265 
 
 could not understand was said by some one, when a shout 
 went up that made the welkin ring. The crowd surged 
 towards me, shouting in a most boisterous manner, and 
 then I got it through my head that the shouting and the 
 crowd were for me. Could it be possible, I thought, that 
 my humble name had attained the degree of celebrity to 
 entitle me to any such consideration? It was explained 
 a moment after by a little gentleman, who bustled before 
 me and taking a manuscript from his pocket began to read 
 a welcoming address, styling me " Colonel Frink," and as 
 suring me that my deeds had preceded me, and my name 
 associated with patriotic daring had endeared me to the 
 land, therefore the people had come out to receive me and 
 give me a heart-offering of grateful regard. He beckoned 
 to the people as he spoke, and they responded by a shout 
 that eclipsed in volume and unanimity all their other 
 shouting. Before he had a chance to begin a new para 
 graph, I begged to assure him that I was not Colonel 
 Frink, that I never had been in battle, though I greatly 
 regretted that I had not been, in order to be entitled in 
 some small degree to the ovation m which had greeted me. 
 A voice in the crowd at this cried out, " Where d you get 
 yer game leg, then ? " to my horror and disgust. I saw in 
 an instant where the mistake lay, and felt that I was in a 
 hobble. The little man who had addressed me turned 
 coldly away, and the people who gave me so warm a re 
 ception grew instantly cool, regarding me evidently as an 
 impostor, and, as I thought, meditated some personal vio 
 lence for the part in deceiving them that I had innocently 
 taken. I overheard the remark of one sturdy citizen that 
 I was " an infernal humbug ; " and as I thought I saw in 
 the eye of the multitude any thing but a kind spirit, I 
 left as speedily as possible for the hotel. The arrival of 
 the real colonel by the next train diverted attention from 
 23 
 
266 PAKTISTGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 me, and I escaped with merely my alarm. I subjoin the 
 local item from the Spunkville Bayonet, that chronicled 
 my advent in the article describing the " Keception of 
 Colonel Frink:" 
 
 " At this point [the arrival of the train in which I was] when ex 
 pectation was at its height, a tall, gaunt, weasel-faced individual 
 stepped upon the platform, whose limping gait attracted the notice 
 of the crowd, that cheered boisterously for their supposed guest. 
 The impostor received the attention with all the impudence in the 
 world, and displayed brass enough to supply any demand for that 
 article. Our respected fellow-townsman, Stubbs, laid bare the decep 
 tion, and the swindler sneaked away with the execration of the crowd. 
 A more flagitious attempt to delude a patriotic people never was prac 
 tised, and the disgraceful perpetrator may be sure that he is marked for 
 a warm reception the-next time he visits Spunkville/ 
 
 This is very pleasant under the circumstances, and, in 
 addition to my present burden of ill, resulting from my 
 lameness, here is a fine prospective deposit to be drawn 
 upon in anticipation. With which lame and impotent 
 conclusion allow me to close. 
 
 BLESS YOU! 
 
 THERE is a prayer of simple art, 
 
 That from the tongue the readiest slips, 
 
 Which springs spontaneous from the heart, 
 And breaks in blessing on the lips : 
 Bless you ! 
 
 When joy s bright beam about us rests, 
 As some dear hand our cup o erfills, 
 
 In this our gladness manifests, 
 
 And with love s fondest cadence thrills : 
 Bless you ! 
 
BLESS YOU! 267 
 
 The sympathy with others woe 
 
 That melts the heart to loving tears, 
 No sweeter form of speech may know 
 
 Than this the sorrowing spirit hears : 
 Bless you ! 
 
 When weary limb and aching brain 
 
 Attest the weight of busy care, 
 How lifts the dulling cloud of pain 
 
 To catch the accent of that prayer : 
 Bless you ! 
 
 In love s pure sacrament of bliss, 
 
 When lip meets lip in fond embrace, 
 Rises with blest approval this 
 
 To give the chrism a holier grace : 
 Bless you ! 
 
 As failing pulse and dimming eye 
 
 Proclaim some loved one s exit near, 
 How like a whisper from on high 
 
 Comes the faint murmur to our e.ar : 
 Bless you ! 
 
 But yet no language it may need ; 
 
 A glance, as well as words, may pray ; 
 All speech kind action may exceed, 
 
 A smile a deeper sense convey : 
 Bless you ! 
 
 Oh ! may our hearts be tuned aright, 
 
 Unselfishly this prayer to feel, 
 And fill our measure of delight 
 
 By supplicating others weal : - 
 Bless you ! 
 
268 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 SALT-WATER TROUT. 
 
 THE following reminds one very much oi* stories we 
 have read of the Adirondacks : 
 
 " Ben and I rose at early morn, when the dew was on 
 the grass, and snuffed the air with satisfaction, as we 
 pulled on our hoots. The river (Piscataqua), sparkling 
 and bright in the early sunlight, flashed by, before us, on 
 its way to the sea, for it was flood tide, and promised 
 excellent sport. 
 
 " Ben/ said I, tis a fine morning f for fish. 
 
 " * Yes, sir/ replied he, as he looked over towards Eliot, 
 and his eye took in the clear outline of Mount Agamenti- 
 cus and a woman in a red dress on the opposite bank, 
 6 good fishing to-day; and there s more fish in that river 
 than in any stream of its size in this country. 
 
 " Take the clams, Ben/ said I, and we ll try J em. 
 
 "I had the flexible rod I had bought of Banfield, 
 charged to my account, that I knew would tie up in a hard 
 knot before it would break, and lots of cunner hoolfs. 
 
 " Ben/ said I, where s the canteen ? 
 
 " All right, sir/ replied he, slapping his off side, and 
 bringing the article round to view. 
 
 " Nuff sed ; now for it/ as we reached the small wharf 
 that jutted out below the bank. Opposite was Boiling 
 Rock, now quiescent in the high tide, the full stream, like 
 a man after dinner, moving as if reluctantly. There was 
 a ripple of eddy in the water, that swirled away coquet- 
 tishly, while a kingfisher chattered overhead on the limb 
 of a tree. 
 
 " My gracious ! said Ben, as he seated himself on top 
 f a stone post. If I only had a gun, I d stop that fel 
 low s music. 
 
SALT-WATER TROUT. 2G9 
 
 " And wherefore, O Ben ? I remonstrated, while ad 
 justing my line, that kinked terribly, so that I found some 
 difficulty in getting it through the rings. Has he not a 
 right to sing ? Indeed, he cannot help it. It is his nature 
 to. Don t let any profane wish interpose here to mar the 
 
 ecstasy of this glorious morning. D the line ! I said, 
 
 in my vexation ; whereat Ben laughed. 
 
 " Don t profane it, sir/ he said ; whereat I did not 
 laugh, while the kingfisher flew away with a long shout of 
 ornithological delight. 
 
 "All right at last, after half an hour s sweating, and 
 throwing over the hook, baited with the seductive clam, I 
 bobbed and bobbed for a bite. There came a positive nib 
 ble, at which I jerked. 
 
 " ( Let im have it, sir/ said Ben, from the post. 
 
 " This was needless advice, for the fish, whatever it was, 
 took it itself. I baited again, and threw over, with the 
 same result. 
 
 " l If you jerk in that way/ said Ben, you ll pull his 
 in ards out, sir, afore you ketch him. Try him gently, sir. 
 Ben lighted his pipe as he spoke, and smoked away like 
 a philosopher. 
 
 " I was made happy a moment after in landing a three 
 ounce perch on the wharf ; and another and another followed, 
 all of the same gigantic mould, whereat Ben laughed heartily. 
 
 " My gracious ! said he ; t you beat Parson Murray, up 
 in the Highdrowndicks, higher n a kite; He never see 
 fishin like that, you bet. 
 
 " I fancied Ben was slightly sarcastic. 
 
 " Now/ said I, as I put on a whole clam, * I ll show you 
 fishing that will astonish you. 
 
 " I dessay/ said Ben, from the post, blowing out a 
 cloud of smoke. 
 
 " Down went the morsel to the bottom, which it no sooner 
 
 23* 
 
270 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 touched than Iliad a bite. And such a bite ! The rod in my 
 hand bent like a withe, and the line whistled through the 
 water as the struggling fish essayed to escape, now this way, 
 now that way now up, and then plunging heavily down. 
 
 " Hold on ! cried Ben, from the post ; you ve got him, 
 sure. He must be a halibut ! He was very much ex 
 cited, but stuck to the top of the post. Give him play, 
 sir, and you ll tire him out. 
 
 " I made a feint to pull him, and he again started, com 
 ing to rest again speedily in six fathom of water, from 
 which I in vain endeavored to start him, my- pole bending 
 double as I tugged to draw him from the bottom ; but 
 he held on most tenaciously. At last, after a violent, 
 struggle, grown weary with the effort, the sweat streaming 
 down my face, I laid down the rod and pulled the victim 
 in, to Ben s great delight, hand over hand. 
 
 " You ve cotched him, sir, as sure as eggs ! said Ben 
 from the post, who had not, I was sure, as I certainly had 
 not, breathed for fifteen minutes, as I drew upon the wharf 
 a splendid river trout, weighing, I should judge, three 
 pounds, that, as I threw him down, flapped a half handful 
 of gravel into my eyes with his tail. He was a noble 
 speckled fellow, with horns on his head, and a mouth four 
 inches wide, with which he had swallowed my hook. Such 
 a pair of expressive eyes I never saw in a trout before ; and 
 as he turned them up to mine, there seemed almost a hu 
 man reproach in them, that melted me. 
 
 " Ben/ said I, isn t that a monstrous trout ? 
 
 " That s the king of em, said Ben ; < but they don t call 
 ? em trout down here. 
 
 " < What do they call em ? I asked, with much interest. 
 
 " He gave a name^ 
 
 " Well, a fish is a fish, anyhow, whatever may be said to 
 the contrary ; and if any one wishes to know what I caught, 
 let him ask Ben." 
 
A POOB BLIND MAN. 271 
 
 THE POOR BLIND MAN. 
 
 A T?QOR blind man besought my aid, 
 Feeling his way with a crooked stick, 
 
 Stepping as if of the earth afraid, 
 
 And touching the pave with pensive lick. 
 
 I held a penny before his eyes ; 
 
 He could see no more than a dead man can, 
 And I felt my pity within me rise, 
 
 For such a very unfortunate man. 
 
 I took his hand and led him o er 
 
 The crossing where the mud was deep, 
 
 And guided his steps where a bit before 
 An Irishman had tried to sweep. 
 
 He thanked me kindly, with rayless eye, 
 And a tearful tone of cadence sweet ; 
 
 Just then a dog, that was going by, 
 
 Smelt him to know were he good to eat. 
 
 I could but mark the blind man s look 
 As the canine smelt his brogans thick ; 
 
 And I marked the capital aim he took 
 As he gave that canine a damaging kick. 
 
 Then the blind man chuckled in merry mood, 
 
 As the dog yelped out his agony ; 
 But how he knew where the canine stood 
 
 Was more than I, with both eyes, could see. 
 
 Just then came along a street horse-car, 
 
 And the blind man hailed it, and off he rolled, 
 
 And I felt it on my consciousness jar, 
 That I had been infernally sold. 
 
272 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 MR. SPOTGAM S TREAT. 
 
 IT was a habit that Mr. Spotgam contracted at Saratoga. 
 He came home full of it, and used to make his brags that 
 he drank, at times, ten tumblers at a single standing! 
 What, in Heaven s name ? the reader asks. The answer, 
 Empire Spring Water. It was his weakness, his weak 
 ness literally, and he left, with the little stragth he had, 
 in three days. But his visit to Saratoga was an epoch in 
 his life, and " when I was in Saratoga " became a " chronic 
 affectation " with him, as Mrs. Partington might say. Those 
 who heard him tell the story of the ten tumblers of Em 
 pire Spring Water invariably knocked with their knuckles 
 on a table, or other sounding-board that might be near, 
 which implied a measure of unbelief; but he stoutly per 
 sisted in the ten-strike.. Bless you! why, he was so fond 
 of the water that he has gone to the spring twenty times 
 in a day, till the little boy who drew up the drink learned 
 to know him, and always had two tumblers ready drawE 
 for him when he arrived, and stood ready to draw more 
 should he want it, which of course he did. He never 
 drank less than six tumblers. It was marvellous to him 
 that some didn t like it ; but he had actually seen some 
 make up faces at it, and others spit it out. It was mothers 
 milk to him, and if he lived in Saratoga he should have his 
 tea made of it. 
 
 Spotgam boarded out. His salary was not large, but lie 
 managed very respectably with not very extensive means. 
 He kept cigars in his room, and had wherewithal to regale 
 his friends when they came to see him. He was an orucle 
 at table, and his visit to Saratoga had made him a man 
 
ME. SPOTGAM S TREAT. 273 
 
 to be looked up to. He quite put out the pipe of the 
 ex-colonel, and the foreman of No. 27, who also boarded 
 there, was nowhere. There was a constant rivalry among 
 the seven young lady boarders for his chaperonage, and 
 the one who succeeded in securing him for an evening 
 to the theatre, or other place of amusement, was an object 
 of envy with the rest for a week afterwards. 
 
 After the fall cleaning was all done up, Spotgam and the 
 young ladies put their heads together, they were always 
 putting their heads together in one way or another, and 
 a party was soon announced, by cards and compliments, to 
 take place on Spotgam s twenty-first birthday, the twelfth 
 of September. The ladies at once were installed a com 
 mittee of arrangements, with occasional conferences with 
 the giver of the entertainment, who, of course, left it en 
 tirely with them. There was subsequently a great deal 
 of stir in the house, and Mrs. Miles, the landlady, who was 
 an excellent cook, was early and late at work preparing for 
 the treat. The invitations were sent out, and the various 
 essentials sent in, and the bill amounted to a formidable 
 figure. But a man s twenty-first birthday doesn t happen 
 more than once in a lifetime, and Spotgam contemned 
 the expense. 
 
 He was considerably anxious as the day approached, as 
 he wished the matter to go off well. The Wiggins and 
 Trotts had given treats that had set the neighborhood 
 agog, and proved vital themes of conversation for many 
 moons, and he wished the Miles party to eclipse them all. 
 He set his wits to work to devise something in which to 
 excel them, and procured many delicacies they had not 
 possessed. It was really no common corn-ball affair, but 
 one that the papers would call recherche. 
 
 Passing along through a street the day before the par 
 ty, Spotgam saw a label hanging over the neck of a bottle 
 
274 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 by a window, "Saratoga Water Empire Spring for 
 sale here." He immediately said to himself, " I must have 
 some of that, sure ; " and, going in, he ordered that a half 
 dozen hottles be sent up. " There," said he, chuckling to 
 himself, " there is a matter in which the Wiggins and 
 Trotts will be outdone. They know nothing of Saratoga ; 
 and with a little Hock wine, hey ! " He almost capered at 
 the idea ; and it was an eclipsing feature for the rivals of 
 Deal Court, so called because it was chiefly devoted to 
 boarding-houses. 
 
 When Spotgam came home in the evening, his first busi 
 ness was to see Bridget, the maid of all work, and ascer 
 tain if the water had come, as an anxious housekeeper 
 might concerning a pump that had long been dry. She 
 told him that it had, and that she had put it in a safe place 
 in a closet which was not much used, that he well knew, 
 and he went up stairs delighted. He would take them by 
 surprise ; and when he sprung his Empire Spring Water 
 upon them, it would strike them, he thought, as the spectator 
 was struck at the engine trial, who received the whole 
 stream of No. 11 with astonishment. How the Wiggins 
 and Trotts would feel when they came to hear of it ! 
 
 Well, the fussing, and fuming, and inviting, and prepar 
 ing all ended in the grand climax, the treat, and Spot- 
 gam, in white kids and great affability, backed by his charm 
 ing coadjutors, received his guests like a prince ; and Deal 
 Court wore a lively aspect on the- eventful night of the 
 twelfth of September. The entry lamp had an additional 
 lustre, and the wax candles upon the parlor candelabras 
 brilliantly reflected back upon each other, like two wits at 
 a party disposed to be personal. Mrs. Miles s red face in 
 the kitchen looked immense with anxiety and heat, for that 
 night was to be an eventful one in the annals of her housfe, 
 and she felt its importance, to say nothing of a five-dollar 
 
MB. SPOTGAM S TEEAT. 275 
 
 bill that the giver of the treat had thrust into her hand, 
 eliciting the remark from her that he was the " generousest 
 creetur." Even Bridget looked luminous in new calico, 
 with flowers as big as your hand, that she had lately re 
 ceived as a present. In short, every thing was as it should 
 be, and, like Saxe s briefless barrister, Spotgam said, " Tis 
 well." 
 
 The party was a delightful one, composed of the- most 
 judicious materials a human punch, with just enough of 
 the acid of sarcasm, and the spirit of wit and repartee, 
 and the sweet of femininity, and the ice of etiquette, and 
 the water well, we haven t got to the water yet noth 
 ing will do for such a compound but Empire Spring Water ; 
 and Spotgam smiled to himself as he thought of the 
 black quart bottles that waited almost impatiently for his 
 summons. Every one seemed pleased, and such a clatter 
 of delightful tongues had never been heard in Deal Court 
 before. The spirit of the scene blazed in musical execu 
 tion to the melodies of Du-dah, Du-dah, arid Kelly Bly, 
 and smacked like champagne in the delicate manoeuvres 
 incident to Copenhagen. 
 
 At length, wearied with pleasure, having exhausted all 
 expedients and resources of fun, the party adjourned to the 
 supper table, that groaned, as is customary with tables, 
 with the weight of good things that oppressed it, like an 
 alderman after a public dinner, where every one was in 
 vited to partake, and Mr. Spotgam did the honors of the 
 table. The Wiggins and the Trotts were really nowhere. 
 The variety, quality, profusion, all operated to place the 
 treat in brilliant and exalted comparison with all other 
 treats that ever transpired in Deal Court. Everbody was 
 delighted, and Mrs. Miles s boarders must thereafter take 
 higher rank. 
 
 At last Spotgam asked to be excused for one moment. 
 
276 PAETINGTOXIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 He wished to introduce to the company a friend, of whom 
 many of them had heard him speak, whose acquaintance 
 he had made at Saratoga last summer, a sparkling, pun 
 gent fellow that he believed they would all like. He would 
 bring him in immediately. He retired, and a very quiet 
 smile flitted over the features of those who were in the 
 secret as he left the room. He came back very soon, 
 bearing two black bottles under each arm and one in each 
 hand. 
 
 " Gentlemen and ladies/ said he, applying a corkscrew 
 to the bottle before him, "this is the friend of whom I 
 spoke, and I mistake in my guess if you do not regard him 
 as a jewel of the first water, and this lesser individual is 
 his companion. Ladies and gentleman, this is Empire 
 Spring Water, Esq., and- this General Hock." 
 
 When the bottles were all uncorked, he gave Bridget, 
 who waited upon the table, the task to fill the glasses 
 around the board with the fluids, which she did ; then he 
 proposed a toast to be drunk in the water, in order that he 
 might witness the pleasure he was confident they would 
 experience. He raised his glass to his lips, and quaffed it 
 all off. His guests sipped, but none could accomplish 
 more, immediately " dipping their nose in the Gascon 
 wine," as if the other were unpleasant. 
 
 " You will find the second drink far more pleasant," said 
 he, filling another tumbler. " I found it so at first when I 
 was at Saratoga. I always found the tenth tumbler," 
 here there was a slight knock on the table, "yes, I said 
 the tenth tumbler, the sweetest of any ;" he raised the 
 tumbler to his lips, ^nd tossed olf the second. "I confess," 
 continued he, " that it tastes better at the springs, but still 
 it is very palatable." 
 
 No one else dared venture upon the second, and Spot- 
 gam saw the one grand hope of the occasion expire. It was 
 
ME. SPOTGAM S TREAT. 277 
 
 to be the skeleton at his feast. He therefore ordered that 
 Bridget clear away the glasses. The treat ended, and the 
 party broke up, after more Copenhagen, and more twirling 
 the platter, and more "Du-dah, Du-dah," at a late hour in 
 the morning. 
 
 "And, indade, twas a quare thing you did with the 
 wather, sir/ 7 said Bridget to Spotgam next day, and her 
 mouth retreated on both sides to a point beneath her ears ; 
 " mighty quare ! " 
 
 "Ah, why?" inquired he, with a slight tremor in his voice. 
 
 "Indade, twas the forge wather, sir," she said, the ex 
 pressive mouth reaching some distance behind the ears. 
 
 " The forge water ? spurious, eh ? counterfeit ? " 
 eagerly queried Spotgam. 
 
 " Twas the forge wather the young ladies got from the 
 blacksmith s shop, sir," said she, to wash their purty faces 
 in, and you got howld of the wrong bottles, sir." 
 " That accounts for it, by Jove ! " said he, slapping his 
 knee. " I thought it tasted infernally nasty. I guess 
 you d better not say any thing about it." 
 
 Bridget, however, who had a keen relish for fun, found 
 it a hard thing to keep. She had, unfortunately, a cousin 
 living with the Wiggins, who was intrusted with the 
 story under an injunction of secrecy, who in turn told it 
 to a servant that lived with the Trotts, under the same 
 charge, and the result was, that in a short time the whole 
 of Deal Court knew it, though no one could tell how it 
 transpired. To be sure there was a grand laugh at Spot- 
 gam s expense, and "Mr. Spotgam 8 Treat" became a 
 proverb. The worst of it was, that his reputation as a 
 connoisseur in Saratoga water died out from that time, <ind 
 he is very careful to whom he tells the story about the ten 
 tumblers of Empire Spring Water, though at the mention 
 of Saratoga he always looks as if he wanted to. 
 
 24 
 
278 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 HOME IN VACATION. 
 
 How still the house is ! All the noise and riot, 
 That late our ears with fearful din distracted, 
 
 Are now submerged in overwhelming quiet, 
 And order reigns where chaos was enacted. 
 
 Ah, blessed order ! we thy peace enjoying, 
 Forget the recent source of our vexation, 
 
 And while the tranquil time we are employing, 
 We bless the happy season of vacation. 
 
 No voices by the chamber stairs are calling ; 
 
 No lawless hands on the piano drumming j 
 No teasing Ike his sisterhood is hauling ; 
 
 No screams for " Father ! " to his ear are coming ; 
 
 No boisterous lungs in disputatious fretting j 
 No tart remark, no sharp recrimination ; 
 
 No little rebel duty s claim forgetting ; 
 No broken rules for stern examination. 
 
 The books are on the shelves in nice condition, 
 The music piled up in the proper places, 
 
 The table-cloths are in exact position, 
 
 And just the angle are the shells and vases. 
 
 It is so quiet ! Not an echo hearing 
 
 In all the rooms, from basement to the attic. 
 
 We smile to realize the comfort cheering 
 Of stillness so profound bliss so ecstatic. 
 
HOME IN VACATION. 279 
 
 But yet, amid the turbulence and clatter, 
 
 There mingled strains that filled the heart with pleasure, 
 Kernels of love mixe d with the idle chatter, 
 
 Bright grains among the dross we loved to treasure. 
 
 Glad glances met our own each day returning, 
 And faces with the soul s young sunlight glowing, 
 
 And hearts with warm, impulsive fervor burning, 
 
 Spoke out from lips with youth s own language flowing. 
 
 Sweet melodies upon the air of even 
 
 Woke the heart s tenderness to fondest dreaming, 
 And lost in notes that seemed like those of heaven, 
 
 Forgot were cares with which the earth is teeming. 
 
 Although we prize the luxury of order, 
 
 And think ourselves enriched the boon possessing, 
 
 The ripless calm that overhangs our border, 
 Purchased with loss of these, is not a blessing. 
 
 We sigh regretfully the past recalling, 
 
 And crave disorder with the joys attending, 
 
 For quiet wears to us a garb appalling, 
 
 And peace thus gained is not worth the defending. 
 
 Then welcome once again the wild commotion, 
 
 The song, the shout, the dance, the roguish actions, 
 
 Breaking to life the dull domestic ocean, 
 By order s oft allowable infractions. 
 
280 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 DISPOSING OF A CASE. 
 
 THERE was a case in court wherein Mr. F. M. Pinto 
 was to appear as a witness. He put on his best clothes, 
 and brushed up his hair in order to give him an external 
 semblance of purity consonant with the inward integrity 
 that filled his soul. His testimony was to fix the fact defi 
 nitely whether the defendant was at a certain poinv at 
 twenty-five or thirty minutes before or after a certain hour. 
 Those who know Pinto s disposition to exaggerate gave 
 him advice enough to have guided any ordinary man, but 
 Pinto was not an ordinary man. He was a little out of 
 place, however, in a witness box, but put an excellent face 
 on it. 
 
 " Pinto," said one, as his name was called, " now be su**e 
 and tell the truth." 
 
 " Don t do it, Pinto," echoed another ; " if you do they 
 will be sure not to believe you." 
 
 But he went on the stand, took the oath, ard Mien 
 looked down at the counsel awaiting the questioning. 
 
 " Do you understand this case, Mr. Pinto ? " asked the 
 counsel. 
 
 " I think I do, sir," replied Pinto ; " I was presert .when 
 it was opened, and can testify " 
 
 " Not yet, sir ; not yet," said the counsel. 
 
 " When the incident occurred on which it is ba^ed, were 
 you present?" 
 
 " Of course I was ; Jim asked in half a dozen of us. 
 There was Tom Grover, and Bill tfewett, and " 
 
 " That is not to the purpose, Mr. Pinto. Now tell the 
 jury the exact time when this happened." 
 
DISPOSING OF A CASE. 281 
 
 "As nearly as I can remember, it was about eleven 
 o clock, because Tim Grover " 
 
 "No matter about Tim Grover. May it not have been 
 twenty-five minutes past eleven ? " 
 
 " Yes, perhaps it might ; but Bill Jewett " 
 
 " We will dispense with Jewett. What we wish to 
 know is, whether Muggs, the defendant, was present at 
 Jones s, at twenty -five minutes past eleven, or not ? Can 
 you swear that he was there at that time ? " 
 
 " Of course I can. Jim said " 
 
 " No matter what Jim said. You can sit down." 
 
 " Stay," said the counsel for the defendant, and he 
 staid. 
 
 " Mr. Pinto," said the counsel, " were you at Jones s, on 
 the twentieth of March, at twenty-five minutes before 
 eleven o clock ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Are you sure about the hour ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Now tell the jury what you know about this case." 
 
 " Jim Jones said he had a case of rare old gin, and asked 
 us in to try it ; and so Tim Grover and Bill Jewett " 
 
 " And Muggs ? " said the counsel for the plaintiff. 
 
 "No, Muggs wasn t there then." 
 
 " Well, when did he come in ? " asked the counsel. 
 
 " He didn t come in at all." 
 
 " But you were there at twenty-five minutes before 
 eleven ? " 
 . "Yes." 
 
 " And twenty-five minutes past eleven ? " said one of the 
 jurymen, waking up. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Explain yourself," said the court. 
 
 " Why, your honor, Jim Jones had a case of gin, and 
 
 24* 
 
282 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 Tim Grover, and Bill Jewett, and I went to his place 
 about eleven o clock " 
 
 " You said twenty-five minutes past, Mr. Pinto/ said 
 the judge, sternly, consulting his notes. 
 
 " Twenty-five minutes before, your honor," said the coun 
 sel for the defence. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said Pinto, " I was there from ten 
 o clock till twelve. Twould be impossible to open and 
 dispose of a case in half an hour " 
 
 " But was Muggs there at all ? " asked the counsel for 
 the defence. 
 
 " Not that I saw." 
 
 " Then what is the case you are toying to prove ? " asked 
 the judge, severely. 
 
 " The case of gin," said Pinto. 
 
 " You may sit down, sir," said the judge. 
 
 VAIN REGRETS. 
 
 A SEEDY old beggar asked alms of me 
 
 As he sat neath the shade of a wayside tree. 
 
 He was beggared in purse and beggared in soul, 
 
 And his voice betrayed a pitiful dole, 
 
 As he sang a song, to a dismal pitch, 
 
 With the burden, " IF THINGS WAS ONLY SICH ! 
 
 "If things was only sich," said he, 
 
 " You should see what a wonderful man I d be ; 
 
 No beggar I, by the wayside thrown, 
 
 But I d live in a palace and millions own, 
 
 And men would court me if I were rich 
 
 As I d be if things was only sich." 
 
VAIN REGRETS. 283 
 
 " If things was only sich," said he, 
 " I d be lord of the land and lord of the sea ; 
 I would have a throne and be a king, 
 And rule the roast with a mighty swing 
 I d make a place in Fame s bright niche ; 
 I d do it if things was only sich." 
 
 " If things was only sich," said he, 
 
 " Rare wines I d quaff from the far countree, 
 
 I d clothe myself in dazzling garb, 
 
 I d mount the back of the costly barb, 
 
 And none should ask me wherefore or which 
 
 Did it chance that things was only sich." 
 
 " If things was only sich," said he, 
 " I d love the fairest and they d love me ; 
 Yon dame, with a smile that warms my heart, 
 Might have borne with me life s better part, 
 But lost to me, here in poverty s ditch, 
 What were mine if things was only sich." 
 
 Thus the old beggar moodily sung, 
 
 And his eyes dropped tears as his hands he wrung. 
 
 I could but pity to hear him berate, 
 
 In dolorous tones, the decrees of Fate, 
 
 That laid on his back its iron switch, 
 
 While he cried, " If things was only sich." 
 
 " If things was only sich ! " e en all 
 Might the past in sad review recall ; , 
 
 But little the use and little the gain, 
 Exhuming the bones of buried pain, 
 And whether we re poor or whether we re rich, 
 We ll say not, " If things was only sich." 
 
284 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM AN UNWRITTEN ROMANCE. 
 
 " IT was about seven bells when the true charac. c ei of 
 the corvette was discovered, and there was immediate 
 alacrity on board the privateer (Lively Bug) to got oat of 
 the way. All sail was made, and the canvas was wet, but 
 to little advantage, for the corvette gained upon us, and 
 soon her black hull, almost within howitzer range, ^o.ned 
 up behind us. She had the British ensign at che pei>k, 
 and* presented a formidable appearance. She had not as 
 yet fired a gun, but seemed bent on making an easy con 
 quest by boarding us. 
 
 " Oh for a breeze ! cried Captain Jo. Hatch, nervously 
 walking the deck, and turning his eye towards h : s ap 
 proaching foe. 
 
 "But the breeze did not respond to his asking, a^d Mie 
 Lively Bug did not move at a pace in keeping with h^r 
 name. 
 
 " Mr. Cinder !\ shouted the captain. Call Cinder, 
 some of you ; which was done. 
 
 " Cinder was the armorer, who thought the scene of his 
 labors was below just then. As he put his head abovs ihe^ 
 hatch, the captain sung out, 
 
 " Cinder, I want the shank of the old anchor on deck :n 
 five minutes. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir/ said Cinder, as he disappeared, an -1 in the 
 time specified -the shank, a heavy mass of iron, boi.ne by 
 four men,, was on deck. 
 
 ftt Mr. Tompion, said the captain to the gunner of the 
 Long Tom, I want three powder cartridges put iixto the 
 gun. 
 
EXTRACT FROM AN UNWRITTEN ROMANCE. 285 
 
 " Twill bust her, said Tompion. 
 
 u Do as I bid you, said the captain, sternly, and it was 
 dono, the crew instinctively drawing back, and Old Tom 
 Trunnion saying, as he sat down on the windlass, ( Tisn t 
 my ^hip, and the underwriters ll have to suffer. 
 
 To o;ir surprise, the captain then ordered the gunner 
 and his men to hoist the shank of the anchor into the can- 
 nor, ana. then we thought the old man was mad, sure 
 enough; but he appeared perfectly self-possessed. He 
 call 3d us ift. 
 
 " Boys, said he, e I am not going to be taken by that 
 vessel if good gunnery will save us. Be ready to obey all 
 my orders. Point the gun to windward. 
 
 "We did so, and awaited the result with suspended 
 breach. The corvette came up with us, till we could see 
 the color of the shirts the men wore, when we heard our 
 captain s voice say, 
 
 a Fort your helm ! 
 
 l < He >?tood sighting the gun, and as the Lively Bug 
 swuag round, bringing the three masts of. the corvette 
 directly in range, he pulled the lanyard. 
 
 " Bcvng! went the gun, with a crash like thunder, and 
 the captain was seen going rapidly aft as the mass of iron 
 darted from the muzzle of the gun. The Lively Bug 
 trembled in every joint, and keeled over to the water s 
 edge. An instant, and a terrific crash and yell on the cor- 
 vette revealed what had been done, as all three of her 
 ma,?ts lull over her side into the sea, and the- single shot of 
 h?.r bTw chaser whistled between our masts. 
 
 * Tht wind began to freshen at this instant, and the Bug 
 began to move rapidly through the water. For a few mo- 
 meats we forgot the captain ; but on searching for him we 
 found .him on the cabin table, having been blown through the 
 skylight. He was insensible for a time j but when he came 
 
286 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 to and saw the effect of his shot, he ordered an attack on 
 the corvette, and, with the wind now in our favor, we so 
 manoeuvred that in fifteen minutes the British corvette 
 Snapdragon, of twenty-four guns, was prize to the Yankee 
 privateer Lively Bug ! 
 
 " The medal awarded by Congress for this gallant ex 
 ploit is in existence, and at present in possession of an un 
 cle of the narrator, to be seen by any one who desires." 
 
 TRUE FAITH. 
 
 OLD Reuben Fisher, who lived in the lane, 
 
 Was never in life disposed to complain ; 
 
 If the weather proved fair, he thanked God for the sun, 
 
 And if it were rainy, with him twas all one ; 
 
 " I have just the weather I fancy," said he, 
 
 " For what pleases God always satisfies me." 
 
 If trouble assailed, his brow was ne er dark, 
 
 And his eye never lost its happiest spark. 
 
 " Twill not better fix it to gloom or to sigh ; 
 
 To make the best of it I always shall try ! 
 
 So, Care, do your worst," said Reuben with glee, 
 
 " And which of us conquers, we shall see, we shall see." 
 
 If his children were wild, as children will prove, 
 His temper ne er lost its warm aspect of love ; 
 " My dear wife," he d say, "don t worry nor fret ; 
 Twill all be right with the wayward ones yet ; 
 Tis the folly of youth, that must have its way ; 
 They ll penitent turn from their evil some day." 
 
TRUE FAITH. 287 
 
 If a name were assailed, he would cheerily say, 
 " Well, well ; we ll not join in the cry, any way ; 
 There are always two sides to every tale 
 And the true one at last is sure to prevail. 
 There is an old rule that I learned when a lad, 
 1 Deem every one good till he s proved to be had. " 
 
 And when in the meshes of sin tightly bound, 
 
 The reckless and luckless mortal was found, 
 
 Proscribed by every woman and man, 
 
 And put under rigid and merciless ban, 
 
 Old Reuben would say, with sympathy fraught, 
 
 " We none of us do half as well as we ought." 
 
 If friends waxed cold, he d say with a smile 
 . " Well, if they must go, Heaven bless them the while ; 
 We walked a sweet path till the crossing ways met, 
 And though we have parted, I ll cherish them yet ; 
 They ll go by their way and I ll go by mine 
 Perhaps in the city ahead we shall join." 
 
 There were sickness and death at last in his cot, 
 But still Reuben Fisher in sorrow blenched not : 
 " Tis the Father afflicts : let Him do what He will; 
 What comes from His hand can mean us no ill ; 
 I cheerfully give back the blessing He lent, 
 And through faith in the future find present content." 
 
 Then he lay on his death-bed at last undismayed ; 
 No terror had death at which he was afraid ; 
 " Living or dying, tis all well with me, 
 For God s will is my will," submissive said he. 
 And so Reuben died, with his breast full of grace, 
 That beamed in a smile on his time-furrowed face. 
 
288 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 * 
 
 A BIT OF OBITUARY. 
 
 THE LATE EVERMORE SMOOTH. 
 
 THE demise of this distinguished man affords me oppor 
 tunity to speajv of his many virtues. He had for seventy 
 years occupied a prominent place in the popular eye, during 
 which time he had never refused to serve the public in any 
 capacity that promised to pay. When any great question 
 came up on which the people divided, his decision was 
 marked, because it had been arrived at by the slow pro 
 cess of culling the opinions of others, and selecting those 
 which would be likely to prove successful, and therefore 
 he was a safe man to follow. In politics he forever sought 
 to be on the winning side ; and when, as sometimes hap 
 pened through the fickleness of public opinion, that the 
 weaker became the stronger, he ever had the candor to ad 
 mit his error, and exert as much haste as possible in get 
 ting again with the majority, making up by his zeal the 
 mistake of position. He was zealous as a politician, and 
 though he never attempted to coerce a voter, it was always 
 understood that if any in his employ voted against him, 
 their places were vacant, thus leaving their fortune in their 
 own hands and silencing all claims of injustice. When the 
 war of rebellion broke out, he was one of the first to volun 
 teer, as a contractor, and did distinguished , service in that 
 field of duty. Before the close of the war, having made 
 all he could out of it, he retired from the field, sick of vio 
 lence. His health was impaired, and deeming that safety 
 lay in the church, he joined a respectable organization of 
 that description, the stock in which immediately went up 
 fifty per cent. He was inspired by feelings of the grandest 
 
A BIT OF OBITUARY. 289 
 
 benevolence, and his name was always mentioned when he 
 gave away any thing, as an inducement to others. His 
 mission was to visit the widow and the fatherless, which 
 he strictly fulfilled, generally after the fatherless were in 
 he d, as he did not wish to make his virtue too ostentatious 
 by going in the daytime. He loved to take the widows 
 by the hand and listen to their wants and relieve them ; 
 but as there were a good many wi dows in his society, the 
 fund for each was small. He was an uncompromising op 
 ponent of sin and sinners never forgiving either. When 
 he read the injunctions regarding forgiveness, he always 
 read them with a reservation, and insisted that the forgive 
 ness as we forgive, in the Lord s Prayer, was wrongly 
 translated. Being a person of influence, this was the view 
 taken of it by nearly everybody in the parish, except the 
 infidels. So with the golden rule : " Do as you are done 
 by " was adopted as the proper translation, at the sugges 
 tion of Mr. Smooth, the sentiment of which he faithfully 
 exemplified in his life. In his business dealings with his 
 fellow-men, this was especially his creed. He bought and 
 sold, and was never known to make a trade that did not 
 turn in his own favor ; hence he made much lucre, and 
 illustrated in his case the truth of the scriptural assurance 
 regarding the love of money. He made no new friends, 
 and as he never had any old ones, his list of visitors was 
 not troublesome. His poor relatives were not tolerated ; 
 he regarded poverty as a crime, and washed his hands of 
 all complicity with it that might attach by recognizing 
 them. He was a patron of letters, and gave a Webster s 
 Unabridged Dictionary, that he had bought at auction, to 
 his native place, on condition that the town clerk should 
 read a chapter from it each town meeting day ; but the gift 
 was declined. As a connoisseur of art he stood high, and 
 gave his preference for Jones, the house dauber, over 
 25 
 
290 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 Raphael as portrait painter. Mr. Evermore Smooth, 
 though removed from our midst, we shall long recall by 
 his majestic presence and the peculiarities that distin 
 guished him. He was about five feet three inches in 
 height, and was wont to make his presence felt by the ter 
 rific manner in which he blew his nose. Alas that we 
 shall hear those echoes no more ! Peace to his ashes ; and 
 that they may not be lost, which would greatly grieve him 
 if it should happen that they were, his heirs have erected 
 a granite obelisk above them. 
 
 A COUNTRY RAINY DAY. 
 
 UP from the river * sweeps the rain, 
 Over the field and over the wood, 
 And the fretful wind, with a note of pain, 
 Sobs and murmurs a sad refrain, 
 Responsive to the angry flood. 
 
 Oh the sight for impatient eyes, 
 Scanning the desolate, dreary day, 
 
 With its drenched earth and leaden skies, 
 
 To see the misty clouds arise 
 
 That shroud the hills there far away I 
 
 I hear the plashing torrent pour, 
 
 And listen with a sense of dread ; 
 There s bodily misery in the roar, 
 That wakens mental torture sore, 
 Till all of sweet content has fled. 
 
 * Piscataqua, at Newington. 
 
A COUNTRY RAINY DAY. 291 
 
 Drip and drip from yonder eaves 
 
 The whole day long tis dripping there . 
 There s a shivering sound in all the leaves, 
 And the feeling the wakeful soul receives 
 Is one akin to deep despair. 
 
 The poultry in the barnyard stand, 
 
 Damp and cheerless, with drooping quills ; 
 
 They see no promise in all the land, 
 
 Or joy that they can understand 
 
 Through this grand culminate of ills. 
 
 That crower never will crow again, 
 
 That hen never exalt her lay ; 
 Their ardor is damped by the falling rain, 
 And they seem to feel, it is very plain, 
 
 Disgusted with the sloppy day. 
 
 The swallows seek the sheltered place, 
 
 High up there on the beams of the barn, 
 And " touch and go " they flit their race, 
 Showing their young, with tender grace, 
 The useful lesson they must " larn? 
 
 The cattle on the barn-floor smoke, 
 
 A practice they are here allowed 
 While all the boys, unhindered, joke, 
 And ( Uncle George " * puts in his spoke, 
 
 The jolliest among the crowd. 
 
 He cares not though the day be wetj 
 " What is the use," he says, " to cry ? 
 
 * A true country philosopher, who, when the skies are the blackest, 
 always predicts that it is " coming off." 
 
292 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 Twill be fair weather, some time, yet 
 ? Tis not a bit of use to fret, 
 
 Let the weather be wet or dry." 
 
 The croakers indoors sadly growl 
 
 At hopes thus gloomily overcast j 
 The answering wind sets up a howl, 
 And the rain comes down like a water-fowl, 
 Struck by the north-east chilling blast. 
 
 I hear the struggling of the spout, 
 
 As it outpours its yeasty flood ; 
 I hear the hay-press workers shout, 
 And see Hodge driving the cattle out 
 Through pools of liquefying mud. 
 
 Patience ! what a virtue thou ! 
 
 I feel thy need in all my bones ; 
 John Bunyan yonder in the slough 
 Was no worse off than I am now, 
 
 Hearing these angry tempest tones. 
 
 Eoar out, ye children on the stair, 
 And let your voices do their best ; 
 
 We ll make believe the day is fair, 
 
 And try to mitigate despair, 
 
 Though all our trying prove a jest. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! tis even so ; 
 
 We cannot banish this one pain ; 
 The frisky winds must have their blow, 
 And all the racks must overflow, 
 
 That hold the bottles of the rain. 
 
SIDEWALK OPERA. 293 
 
 SIDEWALK OPERA. 
 
 IT is wonderful how infectious opera is. Whole neigh 
 borhoods will be bewitched by it ; and men and women, in 
 pursuing the quiet avocations of life, will become operatic 
 in spite of themselves. Men ask the price of a beefsteak 
 with a bravura,, which is replied to by a cavatina ; the 
 morning salutation becomes a duet, and arias and ro- 
 manzas are common things. Thus an opera of house 
 holders, compelled to shovel off in front after a snow-storm, 
 was quite amusing. 
 
 SCENE, Sidewalk. Snow mountains high. 
 
 SMITH, BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON (yueerly cos 
 tumed, armed with shovels, prepared to level the drift). 
 Quartette. 
 
 Here we are to stand the brunt : 
 
 We must shovel off in front. 
 
 Now with blades to cleave the snow, 
 
 In we go, and in we go, 
 
 Throwing the invading drift 
 
 Far as human nerve can lift. 
 
 In, boys, in, and do not stay ; 
 
 It will be as good as play. \_They pitch in. 
 
 SMITH (resting on his shovel). 
 
 Whew ! tis rough and tough enough: 
 I m not made of seasoned stuff. 
 I can t stand this fierce employ : 
 I ll knock off, and find a boy. 
 
 25* 
 
294 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 BKOWX, JOXES, and HOBINSON (resting on their shovels). 
 Trio. 
 
 Ah ! peccavi do you cry ? 
 So* soon from the toil to fly ? 
 Can you thus the joy forego 
 Of this fresh and healthy glow ? 
 Stay : think better of it, Smith, 
 Be a man of nerve and pith. 
 
 SMITH (shouldering his shovel, and beckoning to a boy 
 about forty years old). 13 ass. 
 
 My hope to feel the glow is dim; 
 
 Therefore I resign to him. [Exit. 
 
 [BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON resume shovelling. ] 
 
 BROWN (resting on his shovel, and wiping his face). 
 By George ! this ll try the back : 
 I thought I felt a muscle crack ; 
 And, though I feel all right and brisk, 
 I don t dare too much to risk. 
 * Therefore I conceive it best 
 To call a boy to do the rest. 
 
 JONES and KOBINSON (resting on their shovels). Duet. 
 
 Ha, ha ! thus the toil you shirk, 
 While we stick and do the work. 
 Men of pluck, we ll trophies show 
 Of our struggle with the snow. 
 
 BROWN (shouldering his shovel, and calling another l)oy 
 of some fifty summers artd forty-nine winters). 2d Bass. 
 
 I will leave you all the fun , 
 
 Of hope achieved and victory won. [Exit. 
 
SIDEWALK OPERA. 295 
 
 [ JONES and ROBINSON resume shovelling^ 
 
 JONES (resting on his shovel, and putting his hand wildly 
 to his head). 
 
 Ah ! that horrid vertigo ! 
 
 I was fearful twould be so. 
 
 Round and round things seem to spin : 
 
 I declare I must cave in. 
 
 ROBINSON (resting on his shovel).- Solo. 
 
 Thus they drop from out the ring, 
 Tender as the buds of spring ; 
 Leaving me here all alone 
 To shovel on, while they have flown. 
 
 JONES (shouldering his shovel, and calling a boy of about 
 thirty-five years). Tenor. 
 
 ? Tis rather " going back/ 7 I know ; 
 
 But vertigo now makes me go. [Exit. 
 
 [ROBINSON resumes shovelling.] 
 
 ROBINSON (resting on his shovel, and looking at about 
 twenty feet of drift he has got to work through). 
 
 Faith, I think I d best give o er , 
 My dexter hand is very sore, 
 My hair and eyes are full of snow, 
 I guess I ll have the verti-^0. 
 
 ROBINSON (shouldering his shovel, and calling a boy about 
 twenty-five). 2d Tenor. 
 
 Here, my lad : just put this through ; 
 
 I ll leave the glory all to you. n [Exit. 
 
296 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Quartette by PAT, PHELIM, TERENCE, and MICK, with 
 sliovel accompaniment. 
 
 Ah, begorra ! but this is a good job for us, onnyhow : 
 Blessings on the shnow-storrum that kicked up sich a 
 
 lovely row ! 
 With the worruk half done by the gintlefolk, who broke 
 
 down ; fore they did it, 
 Laving us to charge what we re a mind to, by the same 
 
 token; and we ll do that, you d better belave, 
 
 before we ve done wid it. [They shovel. 
 
 MY FIRST FUDDLE. 
 
 DON T smile, readers, and look at each other, and touch 
 elbows, and wink, on reading my title, as though it were a 
 nucleus of infinite " fuddles " that followed it like the train 
 of a comet, for it was not so. I received that day a lesson 
 which I have always remembered a lesson that came to 
 me through pain and mortification and sorrow, and wrought 
 deeply into a heart not much depraved then, however the 
 world has hardened and corrupted it since. Practical les 
 sons are the best, if rightly applied. Were the first lesson 
 in tobacco-chewing cherished as it should be, there would 
 be few tobacco-ch ewers, as it is only by persistence that 
 human repugnance to the weed can be overcome. So 
 would it be with drinking, were men wise. My first lesson 
 in "fuddle" was my last. And this was the way it hap 
 pened. 
 
 " Penhallow s Field " was a great resort for ball-players, 
 in old times, in our town, and every half holiday and 
 
MY FIRST FUDDLE. 297 
 
 Fast Day a band of merry players were very certain to be 
 there. Penhallow s Field lay just before our door a fine 
 turfy plain at that time, though now streets and houses 
 profane the precinct once sacred to athletic exercise and 
 roistering mirth. At times, older boys would bring to aid 
 the spirit of base a baser spirit, that would have a contrary 
 effect to that intended, for instead of the healthy glow and 
 animation imparted by the sport, the languid eye and lag 
 ging gait betokened a dulled spirit and physical prostra 
 tion ; or else the flushed cheek and fierce glance bespoke 
 the presence of an unclean demon lacking but the power 
 to rend the possessor, like the spirits among the tombs 
 that even then showed signs of turbulence and wrath, and 
 wakened quarrelsome echoes upon the peaceful air of Rock 
 Pasture, of which Penhallow s Field formed a part. 
 
 I have since looked with much interest for these latter 
 individuals, but they have passed along life s highway and 
 gone beyond, leaving no sign. The habits of their youth 
 probably foreshadowed the habits of their maturity ; they 
 died, and that was the end of them, so far as earth was 
 concerned. Good fellows they were, all of them, full of 
 life, and generosity, and warm-heartedness, and my heart 
 took to them ; I watched their older words as they fell, 
 in not very choice form, and learned them for repetition, 
 till I saw their folly. 
 
 But to my " first fuddle." I never shall forget the Fast 
 Day afternoon when it occurred warm, glorious, and 
 green as /was, in the verdancy of ten summers. It 
 comes to me, a commingling of base, big boys, molasses 
 candy, gingerbread, hard-boiled eggs, egg-nog, and pepper 
 mint cordial, the la tter largely preponderating. The egg- 
 nog had all been drunk, and most of the eatables disposed 
 of, when a new expedient was devised for a finale to the 
 hallowed day. Such small boys as were near were sum- 
 
298 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 moned, and the proposition was made to them that they 
 should have all the candy there was left if they would drink 
 the balance of the peppermint cordial. Tempting bait ! 
 No wonder there was a fall about that time, because human 
 nature was \veak, and the cordial sweet and very strong. 
 
 This first step in the lesson resulted in many irregular 
 steps thereafter, before night. The insidious cordial found 
 its way through every vein of my body, with overwhelm 
 ing power, darting with a lambent fire over nerve and 
 brain, and making my young head unsteady with half-de 
 lirious dreams and diabolical hallucinations. I remember 
 the whirl of excitement that every thing seemed to be in. 
 The grass had become very irregular in its surface, and I 
 found myself stepping up often to surmount the hillocks 
 that were rising before me ; the fence in front of our house 
 had become suddenly serpentine, wriggling along its entire 
 length, like a big snake, and I remember that the gate bad 
 contracted, because I struck both sides in subsequently 
 attempting to pass through it. I saw more than fifty grin 
 ning faces around me, though they could have belonged to 
 but eight boys ; and they seemed all dancing an infernal 
 measure in a cabalistic ring, with me for a centre, and bony 
 fingers pointed at me with horrid derision, till in the whirl 
 I fell down. But I had no suspicion of what was the mat 
 ter with me, and got up again. Then came the experience 
 of the gate mentioned above. I saw my brothers, as I en 
 tered the door, look at each other and laugh. They knew 
 what it all meant, but they said nothing. 
 
 Amidst it all I retained a self-consciousness that sub 
 dued the delirium, and a sense of duty ran through my 
 wildest vagary. Above all was the impression that I 
 had to go about a mile away, around the old North Mill 
 Pond, and get a pair of boots that had been left there to 
 be repaired j and I started off to perform the task, with a 
 
MY FIRST FUDDLE. 299 
 
 decided idea that a more rough and uncomfortable road I 
 had never travelled. This was before Jordan had put in 
 its claim for special severity. How I got over it I never 
 really knew, but found myself, some time after, seated on 
 a shoemaker s bench making free with the hammers of 
 the workmen, pounding upon lapstones, and taking great 
 liberties with awls, lasts, and knives, that lay within reach, 
 kicking the bucket containing the wax, and committing 
 other outrages, as the auctioneer says, " too numerous to 
 mention." The men touched their noses significantly, and 
 winked at each other, and looked, as I thought, very silly j 
 and I remember that I, with more than ten-year-old wis 
 dom, told them they were acting like " infernal fools." 
 
 I got up to go home, and took a path straight for the 
 pond, with a vague impression that I was to ford the 
 stream. As I reached it, however, my knees failed me, 
 and I fell pronely upon the shore, in ignominious help 
 lessness. Were any being to have stood by my elbow and 
 urged my acceptance of the universe, or any other tract 
 of territory, on the condition that I got up and walked, I 
 should not have been able to do it. Utterly helpless ; and 
 yet amid it all a light broke upon me that revealed the true 
 state of the case, so that when the men who had watched 
 me from the window came down to me, and asked what 
 was the matter, I responded with an honesty worthy of an 
 older head, " I m drunk ! " 
 
 They took me up very tenderly and carried me to the 
 house where they lived. And here memory recalls a be 
 nevolent face encircled by a white cap border, a blazing 
 wood fire over which a tea kettle is simmering, a Dutch 
 oven containing a quantity of bubbling hog s fat, and a 
 large milk-pan full of doughnuts by the side of the fire 
 place. I remember that venerable figure standing by my 
 side as I sat by the fire, with kindness and sympathy upon 
 
300 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 her face, and a cup of warm water in her hand, which she 
 urged nie to drink. I remember, too, what followed a 
 nausea a spasm and a milk-pan full of doughnuts 
 spoiled forever ! 
 
 My brother Bob came across the pond in a boat and fer 
 ried me home, and still before me is the scene that await 
 ed me my mother s and sister s tears, my grandmother s 
 pitiful gaze, as if an angel looked through her beautiful 
 eyes, ray father s grave and sorrowful earnestness, my 
 brother s mirth. He had got over his first fuddle some 
 time before. 
 
 Well, there I sat, when I got home, the centre of inter 
 est. Never was a little fellow of ten, clothed in no very 
 sweet habiliments, an object of more consideration, and 
 never did shame weigh more heavily on mortal con 
 science than on mine, with the feel of those eyes upon me. 
 I braced myself up with a tipsy resolution that I would 
 brave it out. The silence was painful, and I essayed to 
 break it with a remark ; but the remark, like Macbeth s amen, 
 stuck in my throat. My tongue seemed as big as two ordi 
 nary beef tongues, and filled my mouth full. I couldn t 
 articulate for the life of me. I gave that up, but attempted 
 ,to look unconcerned. It was a lamentable failure ; for the 
 first thing I saw was my father s benign and sorrowing look, 
 sorrow without reproach, that sank into my soul, and 
 remains there till this day, more permanently than though 
 enforced by a hurricane of words. His was no temper to 
 storm. The elements of gentleness and kindness were so 
 developed in him, there was no room for anger, or for any 
 harsher feeling than sorrow. That look was so full of dis 
 appointment, and regret, and grief, that encounter it again 
 I would not for the world ; and gathering myself up the 
 best way I could, I crawled off to my little bed in the 
 attic to sleep off my first fuddle, and, if possible, a remem- 
 
MY FIEST FUDDLE. 301 
 
 brance of the mortification I felt. The first I accom 
 plished, but the latter I have never succeeded in doing, 
 though more than forty years have since swept over me 
 their fates of .good and evil. That old man s gaze has 
 never left my mind, and even as I write I recall it. He 
 gave me no lecture besides this no homily on sobriety, 
 no expostulation, no threatening. As the eye of man is 
 said to be able to check the fiercest madman, so was the 
 unclean spirit in me,subdued by a look, and was from that 
 moment dethroned. 
 
 I tell this in no vain-glorious spirit of boasting, I tell it 
 in no " I am holier than thou " mood, but give it as a single 
 example of the good effect of a good influence timely ex 
 erted. I do confess me to a liking for fluids, however, and 
 
 when my friend Colonel levelled his glass to me at 
 
 the Ancients dinner, and smiled in the urbane manner 
 usual with him, I could not avoid sipping a little response j 
 besides, I have not entirely conquered my tenderness for 
 cider, especially when it conies commended as a legal 
 beverage by the solemn enactment of the state. 
 
 LITTLE WINNIE, with his cheeks red and glowing, was 
 met by a kind old clergyman, who stooped down and pat 
 ted him on his- head, saying, " Well, my little man, what 
 makes your cheeks so red ? " The bright eyes looked up 
 laughingly. " I s pose," said he, " tis cause they are red 
 
 hot." 
 
 26 
 
302 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOEK. 
 
 SAN GAREE S RIDE. 
 
 FLL tell you a tale, if you ll list to me, 
 Of the ride that was rid by San Garee, 
 On a night in the K. N. Fifty-Five : 
 There are many witnesses alive 
 Who were on the spot the thing to see. 
 
 He said to his friend, [ The constable s come, 
 
 But as you ll see, I m up to trap ; 
 
 They think they ve wholly stopped our rum 
 
 By cutting off the tavern s tap. 
 
 I ll show em a trick worth two of that, 
 
 For I ll away to the opposite flat, 
 
 Ready to ride to Medford town 
 
 And bring the real critter down, 
 
 In spite of the tyrannous Maine law s frown ! " 
 
 Then he said good night, and a jug he took, 
 And crossed the bridge that spanned the brook, 
 Just as the moon, half over the bay, 
 Shed its beam where a hay-cart waiting lay 
 A phantom cart, with slats upright, 
 Through which the moon shone still and bright, 
 And a huge black hulk of a shadow was cast 
 On the fence, as San Garee hurried past. 
 
 A clatter of hoofs rang through the town, 
 
 Lickity-cut, at a terrible pace, 
 
 And the oldest stagers in the place 
 
 Vowed that such riding they d never known : 
 
 That was all ! and yet from his mission that night, 
 
 A dozen men ere morning were tight ! 
 
SAN GAKEE S KIDE. 303 
 
 It was ten by the village clock 
 
 When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. 
 
 He smelt the fragrance of the dock, 
 
 And heard the hum of the stillery dam, 
 
 And the sound of a distant front door slam, 
 
 As folks to their naps were settling down 5 
 
 And he was fast asleep in his bed, 
 
 The one on whom San Garee did call, 
 
 Who filled his jug with the fluid red, 
 
 And didn t mind the law at all. 
 
 The rest is soon told. He came as he went, 
 With no policeman on the scent, 
 His prize securely lashed to his side, 
 That ere he started he twice had tried, 
 Dashing along through road and lane 
 With eager heart and urgent rein ; 
 And under the trees, by the river s brink, 
 Stopping only to take a drink ! 
 
 So on that night rode San Garee, 
 
 And so through the night his horse s heels 
 
 To wakeful ears made noisy appeals, 
 
 Appeals that mocked curiosity j 
 
 A clatter in darkness that passed by the door, 
 
 As homeward his trophy the night rider bore ! 
 
 Now, mong the rummest things that are past, 
 
 Recounted often in circles fast, 
 
 In hours of sport, and mirth, and fun, 
 
 They tell the story with shouts of glee 
 
 How the Maine-law people were done 
 
 By the midnight ride of San Garee. 
 
304 PAUTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 THE VICTIM OF INVITATIONS. 
 
 MR. TOTT was a very excellent man, so everybody said ; 
 was largely social and capable of much enjoyment, loved 
 the good things of the world, and had a thousand friends; 
 but he was unhappy. He was haunted by a demon. Not 
 by a thing of " gristly bone," but a shadowy demon that 
 ran in and out of his mind like the worms in the brain of 
 " Alonzo the Brave, 7 sung in the ballad, but not so visible 
 as were those interesting reptiles, working the very mis 
 chief with him. This was exceeding sensitiveness. He 
 not only shrank from putting himself forward, but would 
 not allow others to do it for him. He hung back continu 
 ally and became a man with timidity, like a garment, cling 
 ing to him. He was in a constant dread all the time, lest 
 he should be singled out for some distinction. Particular 
 ly he dreaded invitations to dinner. He was glad when 
 others got invitations, and loved to hear the music of knife 
 and fork that came to him from a distance, and it gave 
 him pleasure to look in through open doors revealing long 
 lines of pleasant faces by the table ; but he was never to 
 be found where men met to meat. He was social, but 
 couldn t mingle with his fellows except in the street, or in 
 places where eating was not involved. He once came very 
 near being seduced by an invitation to a lobster salad ; but 
 though, next to virtue, he loved lobster salad, he gave 
 it up just as he had made up his mind to go. He couldn t 
 account for this timidity nobody could and he was 
 very miserable. 
 
 It is always the case that that which we most dread will 
 happen to us. A man that dreads fire is more apt to have 
 
THE VICTIM OF INVITATIONS. 305 
 
 his house burn than one who cares nothing about it ; one 
 who dreads dogs always has a regiment of them to annoy 
 him around his house ; and I knew a man who had a 
 mortal antipathy to bears, that was chased for three days 
 in State Street by the brokers. 
 
 This is a very queer fact. So, as poor Tott dreaded in 
 vitations to dine out, did they come upon him. Every 
 body invited him to dinner, and ten thousand lies did he 
 invent in the course of the year to evade these invitations. 
 Many of his inventions were ingenious and original. With 
 one he had "just eaten," when he was as gaunt as a fam 
 ished wolf ; with another, a " previous engagement " pre 
 vented him ; and with another, a friend " was coming to 
 dine with him." Like all liars, he at last got found out. 
 
 " Tott," said Smith, one day, meeting him in the .street, 
 " come and dine with me to-day. Got some fine birds, - 
 woodcock, I know you like 7 em; and, look here, some 
 of the best wine you ever drank." 
 
 Tott s mouth watered at the bill of fare j but his diffi 
 dence came over him, and he replied, 
 
 "Can t think of it; I m engaged to dine with Brown. 
 Thank ee for your invitation, though, just as much. Good 
 
 v 
 
 Tott turned away, vexed with himself for refusing, when, 
 just as he had turned the corner, he met Brown. 
 
 "Tott," said Brown, shaking him warmly by the hand, 
 " glad I ve met with you. I want you to dine with me to 
 day. Banfield, up in New Hampshire, has just sent me 
 down some salmon trout, prime fellows, fresh and 
 clean eh, boy ! that s your sort. Will you come ? Say 
 yes." 
 
 Tott trembled. It was a proposition sufficient to tempt 
 an anchorite. It was hard to resist; but his old habit 
 came over him, and he replied, 
 
 26* 
 
306 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Faith, Brown, it s unfortunate, but I ve just engaged to 
 take dinner with Smith. Devilish unfortunate to have 
 two such chances at once. Hope you ll have a good time. 
 Farewell." 
 
 They parted. Later in the morning Tott dropped into 
 the office of a friend. 
 
 " Ah, Tott," said he, " tis getting near dinner time j I 
 should be glad to have you take dinner with me." 
 
 " Can t possibly," replied he ; " I expect a friend from 
 New York to dine with me to-day." 
 
 At this moment Smith entered. 
 
 *" " My friend Tott," I must insist on your going home to 
 dine with me. Wife and the girls will be glad to see you 
 Come ! " 
 
 " But," said Tott, " you remember my previous engage 
 ment " 
 
 " What, to dine with Brown ? Nonsense ! Come 
 along." 
 
 " He just told me he expected a friend from New York 
 to dine with him," said the friend, winking at Smith. 
 
 Poor Tott was cornered ; but putting a good face on it, 
 he insisted upon it that he was to dine with Brown, and 
 that Brown had just returned from New York, and so of ^ 
 course he was all straight. 
 
 At that moment the door opened, and Brown entered. 
 
 " Halloo ! " said he ; " all right ; now, Smith, just release 
 him from his engagement, will you, and let him come and 
 dine with me ? Do, there s a good fellow." 
 
 " Why, he told me he tyad engaged to dine with you." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Tott, in despair, " you must both ex 
 cuse me, as I am engaged to a sit-down with a friend at 
 Parker s." 
 
 He went out, and that day dined on clam chowder and 
 a doughnut at Learned s. 
 
THE VICTIM OF INVITATIONS. 307 
 
 Poor fellow ! thereafter he was spotted, and every one 
 invited him ten times more pertinaciously than ever to din 
 ner. He was in constant dread, and at times became very 
 nearly drawn into a dinner. 
 
 A pale-faced, grave-looking gentleman, holding a posi 
 tion under government, came in one day about dinner time, 
 and approaching Tott, asked him if he would go with him 
 to be a witness in a case that affected him vitally. 
 
 " You know," said the grave gentleman, " that I was 
 sick last winter, and a word from you will substantiate a 
 matter that is now involved in a little doubt. Will you 
 go?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Tott, putting on his coat ; " where are 
 we to go ? " 
 
 " To City Hall," was the reply. 
 
 Soon they arrived at a point near that locality, when the 
 grave gentleman conducted Tott into Hall s eating-house, 
 redolent with the odors of turtle soup, and turning to Tott, 
 he said, 
 
 " What I want you to witness is the excellent quality of 
 this turtle soup and my own excellent appetite. Sit down 
 and take some. Mr. Hall, my friend Tott." 
 
 " I vow," said Tott, " it is very unfortunate, but I dined 
 at Parker s not more than fifteen minutes ago, and couldn t 
 eat another mouthful if I should die." 
 
 His mouth watered as he spoke, and the tears gathered 
 in his eyes; but he had spoken, and wishing the grave 
 gentleman a good appetite, and bidding Hall an affection 
 ate farewell, went back to his tumbler of cider and piece of 
 pie at Loring s. 
 
 Tott grew emaciated and weak daily under his invita 
 tions, and so nervous that he sometimes refused before he 
 was asked. Every one who approached him he thought 
 was about to invite him to dinner. One day a stranger 
 
308 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 met him in the street and inquired the way to the Tremont 
 House. 
 
 " Thank you kindly, sir," said he ; " hut I am positively 
 engaged to-day, to dine with my friend Everett. Oh, ask 
 pardon ! Tremont House ? There it is, sir." 
 
 There was a vacant chair, not long after this, in Tott s 
 domicile, and a jury of twelve grave men sat on a coat and 
 hat found on Charlestown Bridge, who brought in the ver 
 dict that as Tott was not to he found, it was inferahle from 
 the vacant hat and coat that he had slipped away, by water 
 or otherwise, to avoid being invited to dinner. 
 
 THE GREEN GOOSE. 
 
 MR. BOGARDUS " gin a treat," 
 And a green goose, best of birds to eat, 
 Delicious, s-avory, fat, and sweet, 
 Formed the dish the guests to greet; 
 
 But such, we know, 
 
 Is small for a " blow," 
 
 And many times around won t go ; 
 So Mr. Bogardus chanced to reflect, 
 And with a wisdom circumspect, 
 He sent round cards to parties select, 
 Some six or so the goose to dissect, 
 
 The day and hour defining ; 
 And then he laid in lots of things, 
 That might have served as food for kings, 
 
THE GREEN GOOSE. 309 
 
 Liquors drawn from their primal springs, 
 And all that grateful comfort brings 
 To epicures in dining. 
 
 But Mr. Bogardus s brother Sim, 
 With moral qualities rather dim, 
 Copied the message sent to him, * 
 
 In his most clerkly writing, 
 And sent it round to Tom, and Dick, 
 And Harry, and Jack, and Frank, and Nick, 
 And many more, to the green goose " pick " 
 
 Most earnestly inviting ; 
 He laid it on the green goose thick, 
 
 Their appetites exciting. 
 
 ; Twas dinner time by the Old South clock j 
 Bogardus waited the sounding knock 
 Of friends to come at the moment, " chock," 
 To try his goose, his game, his hock, 
 
 And hoped they would not dally ; 
 When one, and two, and three, and four, 
 And running up the scale to a score, 
 And adding to it many more, 
 Who all their Sunday fixings wore, 
 Came in procession to the door, 
 And crowded in on his parlor floor, 
 Filling him with confusion sore, 
 Like an after-election rally ! 
 
 " Gentlemen," then murmured he, 
 " To what unhoped contingency 
 Am I owing for this felicity, 
 A visit thus unexpected ? " 
 
810 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 Then they held their cards before his eyes, 
 And he saw, to his infinite surprise, 
 That some sad dog had taken a rise 
 On him, and his hungry friends likewise, 
 
 And whom he half suspected ; 
 But there was Sim, 
 Of morals dim, 
 With a face as long, and dull, and grim, 
 
 As though he the ire reflected. 
 
 Then forth the big procession went, 
 With mirth and anger equally blent ; 
 To think they didn t get the scent 
 Of what the cursed missive meant 
 
 Annoyed some of J em deeply ; 
 
 They felt they d been caught by a green goose bait, 
 And plucked and skinned, and then, light weight, 
 
 Had been sold very cheaply. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 Keep your weather eye peeled for trap, 
 For we never know just what may hap, 
 
 Nor if we shall be winners ; 
 % Remembering that one green goose 
 Will be of very little use 
 
 Mongst twenty hungry sinners. 
 
MISSING. 311 
 
 MISSINtt 
 
 ON the morning of August 20, 18 , the following para 
 graph appeared in the columns of the Elmwood Adver 
 tiser : 
 
 "MISSING. Mr. George Wayne, of this town, has mysteriously 
 disappeared from his home, and his friends are plunged into the 
 deepest anxiety regarding him. The last seen of him, he was on his 
 market wagon, proceeding towards this place from Centre Hebron, 
 where he had been with a load of produce ; and, as he had received 
 considerable money, it is feared that he has been the victim of foul 
 play. The team reached home without him. Every exertion has 
 been made to ascertain his fate, but all have been fruitless." 
 
 People might well be startled, as they were, to read this, 
 .for George Wayne was widely known as the most success 
 ful farmer in the valley of Sedge River, that ran through 
 Elmwood, and was much esteemed for his many estimable 
 qualities. His energy and prudence had secured for him a 
 competence; and he had a, worthy wife and two fine boys, 
 with whom he lived very happily. He had no encum 
 brances, no troublesome obligations to meet, and, with 
 pleasant domestic relations, no other reason for his disap 
 pearance than that of " foul play " could be entertained. 
 The grief of his family was intense, and excited the sym 
 pathy of all for many miles around, who were ready to 
 join in any effort that might be made to obtain a solution 
 of the mystery. 
 
 Accordingly advertisements were despatched in every 
 direction, describing the missing man, and offering a large 
 sum for the recovery of his body, if dead,^ or information 
 regarding him, if living. The town authorities also took 
 
812 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 the matter up, and increased the amount of the reward 
 offered by the friends of Wayne. The promptness with 
 which all this was done attested to the estimation in which 
 lie was held ; and there was, besides, a desire to free the 
 vicinity from the stigma that attached to the fact that a 
 prominent citizen should thus disappear at mid-day, and no 
 clew be had thereto ; for no like event had transpired there 
 before, and the people were jealous of the reputation of 
 the place. 
 
 The traders with whom "Wayne had last dealt at Centre 
 Hebron were found, who gave an account of all. that had 
 happened up to the time of his parting from them on the 
 day of his disappearance. They certified to his sobriety, 
 and his usual correctness, having seen nothing about him 
 indicating any mental disturbance. He had spoken of his 
 .family to them in the most pleasant manner, arici had pur 
 chased several articles for his wife and children, that were 
 found in the wagon on its return. Then suspicions, point 
 ing in sundry directions, made the lives of several vaga 
 bonds in the yicinity uncomfortable, and some who were 
 over-zealous made small scruple in stating their belief 
 that So-and-so or So-and-so had a hand in it, as would 
 eventually be found out. These were watched to see if 
 they gave any evidence of possessing any more money 
 than usual ; but no signs were seen that denoted any 
 change, and so suspicion banked its fires, but did not let 
 them die out. 
 
 At length, when the zest of public feeling had worn off, 
 some boys, at play in a distant wood by the side of a little 
 pool, had found poor Wayne s coat that he had worn on 
 the day of his disappearance, with its pockets unrifled of 
 its money and papers, and still containing some trifling 
 presents that he had purchased for his children at Centre 
 Hebron. This was a vindication of those suspected j the 
 
MISSING. 313 
 
 spirit of search revived again ; the pond was drained in 
 expectation of finding the missing one ; but all in vain. 
 The secret was locked in the chamber of mysterious events, 
 of which 110 one could find the key, and the excitement 
 waned with nothing to feed it. 
 
 Mrs. Wayne and her two boys, George and Harry, the 
 former six and the latter four years old, were objects of 
 deep commiseration, and every aid was extended to them 
 in settling the estate, which proved to be in a condition to 
 place them beyond want. The boys were sent to school, 
 and their mother, relinquishing all hope of hearing from 
 her absent husband, settled down into a resigned state of 
 widowhood. She was yet young, and very good looking, 
 and, though she had loved Wayne very devotedly, her 
 weeds soon grew tiresome. Her spirit was one that dwelt 
 with the living more than with the dead ; and when con 
 vinced that the dear departed had really gone, she listened 
 to the blandishments of one more eloquent than the grave, 
 and gave her hand to him for the sake of her children, 
 who " needed a masculine hand to guide and correct them." 
 Gossips condemned her for marrying again ; but she knew 
 best, of course. The care of the children decided it. 
 
 So time slipped by, and George Wayne was about as 
 completely forgotten as though he had never existed. A 
 new class succeeded him, and the world got along very 
 well without him, as it will without us, when we, too, shall 
 have passed on among the multitude that people the great 
 Beyond. His children grew up to be industrious and 
 worthy men, their father s name but a tradition to them ; 
 and their mother was again a widow, she having found, 
 with her children, much more masculine guidance and di 
 rection than she had estimated when she married. 
 
 Of the two boys, Harry inherited his father s spirit, and 
 
 became one of the best farmers in the country, showing by 
 27 
 
314 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 his improvements and his sturdy crops what he knew about 
 farming, supporting his mother, and proving by his public 
 spirit that he was a worthy son of a worthy sire. Every 
 one of those who could recall the father, though they were 
 few, averred that Harry was like him as one pea is like 
 another. George, like too many farmers boys, took a dis 
 taste for the plodding life of the farm, and went to the 
 city, where he embarked in trade with bright hopes of a 
 fortune, with really but one chance in a thousand of its 
 realization. Integrity and industry secured him friends, 
 and his shrewdness and foresight won him position. He 
 made money, and was on the high road to affluence at 
 thirty. 
 
 Among his city friends was a family of elegant refine 
 ment by the name of Francis, the head of which, Solon 
 Francis, Esq., had made his acquaintance in the walks of 
 trade, and had invited him to his house through respect 
 for his many virtues, introduced him to his family, and 
 made him a welcome comer. He was quite good looking, 
 very intelligent, could sing and play, was cheerful and hap 
 py, and the father s spirit of welcome became also that of 
 the daughters, three of them, who looked upon him 
 " as a brother." Ah, what a sweet illusion there is regard 
 ing this relation ! and, though "just like a brother " sounds 
 perfectly rational and very harmless, there is too often a 
 feeling mingling with the adopted relation that admits of 
 a different, though not more tender, interpretation. 
 
 No one saw any danger, however ; and the young peo 
 ple played, and sang, and laughed together, as happy and 
 as unconcerned as birds. For months this continued, the 
 old gentleman well pleased at their enjoyment. The 
 mother of the young ladies, had she been alive, might 
 have foreseen and told the danger j but she had been for 
 some years dead. [I am sorry to introduce these mortu- 
 
MISSING. 315 
 
 ary episodes into a cheerful story, first George Wayne, 
 and then the mother of these charming girls, but the 
 exigency of the plot demands it. I have, however, done 
 better than most tale- writers, who. dismiss the mothers of 
 their stories with but one pale-faced girl, to live in a state 
 of uselessness, and make some spooney fellow "happy" in 
 the future, for Mrs. Francis left three, and one son, who 
 was a shipmaster, whom George Wayne had not seen.] 
 She would have seen that all the charming Platonisms, 
 which made the society o these young people so pleasant 
 to each other, might one day harden into a sentiment 
 more dangerous to their peace, which, if she could not 
 thwart, she might control; but the singing, and playing, 
 and laughing went on, all gliding along upon a summer tide, 
 without a thought of danger beneath. 
 
 The names of the three Graces, which made George 
 Wayne s life pass so blissfully, were Mary, Alice, and Jen 
 nie ; but the introduction of all of them is merely a mat 
 ter of courtesy, as my veracious story has to do with but 
 one Alice, the sweetest and most sparkling of them all. 
 She was indeed a radiant creature, though to save my life 
 I could not say whether her hair was " pale gold, 7 which 
 is flax color, or "tawny gold," which is copper color, or 
 whether her eyes were like a pansy, or a tansy, or a violet, 
 or her complexion like the bloom of an August pea eh in 
 the sun, or a brunette, dusky, like the twilight. All I 
 know about her is, that she was beautiful, vivacious, sensi 
 ble; could converse, sing, play, and do housework; dressed 
 in charming taste, and never broke her father s heart by 
 any demand for extravagant trimmings, in which latter re 
 gard her daughters, in their day, follow her example. But 
 I anticipate. 
 
 Dickens, commencing his story of the Cricket on the 
 Hearth, says, " The kettle began it." I will not pretend 
 
816 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 to say on which side the "liking" began that settled the 
 fate of George Wayne and Alice Francis ; but by some 
 means they soon found out that the "just like a brother " 
 position was not tenable. Neither can I tell how it was 
 discovered ; but so it was, and the brotherly and sisterly 
 delusion went down like unpopular stocks at the Brokers 
 Board. Why it was that Alice, and not all of the sisters, 
 should fall in love with George, is another mystery, of 
 which there are so many to bother one, and I refuse all 
 further mention of them. 
 
 George s visits to the sisters soon had a different mo 
 tive, and it was not disagreeable at all when the change 
 came. Such of the facts as they had not guessed they 
 got by inquiries from Alice ; and she, not less communica 
 tive than the rest of her sex, had kept them posted re 
 garding the progress of events. The father knew of it 
 with much satisfaction, and George was installed in the 
 family affections as the accredited lover of Miss Alice. 
 He had also made his mother the recipient of the secret 
 of his affections, so far as there was any secret about it, 
 and she had breathed a blessing on the purposed union in 
 eight long pages of note-paper. An interchange of visits 
 had also taken place, and a mutual happiness was estab 
 lished that promised to be endless in duration. The wed 
 ding, however, was to be no hasty affair : eminent proprie 
 ty forbade that : but it was an event for no very far 
 distant day, as anybody reduced to half an eye could see. 
 Congratulations were many, and the happy couple con 
 ceived themselves to be about the most favored of any 
 since the primeval pair. The primeval pair had no period 
 of courtship to endanger the union of the cup and the lip. 
 They accepted the situation at once, and were true to it. 
 There were no jealousies and heart-burnings to mar the 
 peace of either; and so, maugre the trouble incurred be- 
 
MISSING. 317 
 
 cause of that little episode about the apple, they lived 
 happily on to the last. It is to be regretted that their 
 example is not followed, in this respect, by their descend 
 ants. 
 
 It was in the midst of this heyday of Blissful anticipa 
 tion that one morning a carriage drove up to the door of 
 the house, in which George Wayne was a partner, from 
 which a gentleman and lady alighted, and were conducted 
 to the counting-room, where sat the senior partner of the 
 firm reading his newspaper. George saw, with a quick 
 glance, as a playful breeze swept her veil aside, that she 
 was very lovely, and though, just as she came in, he was 
 thinking of selecting a pattern for a wedding coat, he 
 wished heartily that he might be called in to consult with 
 his senior on some matter, he cared not what, in order to 
 get another glimpse of the beautiful stranger. Soon, much 
 to his gratification, he heard his name called, and he 
 obeyed the summons with alacrity. 
 
 " Wayne," said Mr. Simpson, of the firm of Simpson, 
 Dodge & Co., " this is Miss Willison, daughter of our wine 
 correspondent at Bordeaux Mr. Wayne, Miss Willison ; 
 Mr. Clark, of Clark & Milton, Bordeaux, Mr. Wayne. 
 Please be acquainted." 
 
 Wayne acknowledged the pleasure, and learned from 
 the lady that she had been for some time in America, a 
 guest of Mr. Clark, and was on the point of returning, 
 when she heard the news of her father s illness, and had 
 come to consult with the firm, of which he had long been 
 a correspondent. 
 
 " Miss Willison," said Mr. Simpson, " represents her 
 father, who, I am pained to hear, has been seized with a 
 sudden illness, which renders his further attention to busi 
 ness impossible a disease of the brain, and entire loss of 
 memory. Some affairs, in which he was engaged at tho 
 27* 
 
318 PARTINGTOXIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 time he was stricken, need adjusting ; therefore it will be 
 necessary for one who is competent to go on, and assume 
 the charge of matters there until his recovery. Can you 
 not go for a few months, and do this ? It will be very 
 hard for him to go, I assure you, Miss Willison," turning 
 to her, " for he has very strong ties to bind him here." 
 
 But Wayne at once, as Rebekah did when suddenly 
 asked to go and be the wife of Isaac, said, " I ll go," and 
 turned away, with a parting bow and smile to the visitors, 
 to pack his trunk, and bid good by to Alice. 
 
 It was unfortunate that they could not have hurried 
 things along a little, so that he could have taken Alice s 
 trunks with his, and Alice, too ; but the wedding was re 
 served for his return ; and so, after a few days, he left, in 
 the dangerous company of charming Miss Willison. 
 
 Dangerous, I mean, under the circumstances ; for, though 
 I firmly and full} - believe that " the heart that once truly 
 loves never forgets," still human nature is weak, and the 
 heart may become etherized by passion, and all of human 
 fealty be contravened in the heart s despite. Sea-sickness 
 is a strong excitant of sympathy, and the charming Flo 
 Willison her name was Florinda Augusta, but there are 
 no middle names in romance was very sick, and George 
 Wayne was not ; so he sat by her, and soothed her, and 
 dosed her with brandy and w ater, and carried her on 
 deck, and acted anew the brotherly role he had lately as 
 sumed. " With the same result ? " is asked. We shall see. 
 
 " Flo," as George had learned to call her already in the 
 most brotherly way possible, was persistently sick, though 
 the color returned to her cheeks and lips, and insisted on 
 the attention that her invalid condition demanded ; and at 
 last, when she was able to eat a little something, he would 
 go to the table, and select such delicacies as she liked, and 
 they would eat them together in some quiet place, and de- 
 
MISSING. 319 
 
 sire no more society. All the young men on board, and, it 
 must be confessed, many of the old ones, were eager -to 
 render service to the fair invalid ; but she declined their 
 attentions, as her " brother" was all that she desired. It 
 was before the days of- steamers, and the progress from 
 New York to France was tedious ; Kut to George and Flo 
 it was like Juliet s " sweet sorrow " of the farewell, and 
 they wished it might be extended, though Flo s sickness 
 was of most alarming endurance. 
 
 I went to sea once with a captain who was seasick the 
 first of every voyage, and who always laid in three gallons 
 of gin as a remedy. I did not see that it did him any 
 good, though he kept taking it till it was gone, and com 
 menced his duties with the last dose, throwing the tin 
 tumbler, from which he took it, at the steward s head, 
 though I could not understand why. 
 
 Flo was sick every bit of the way across the ocean, but, 
 011 the principle of the captain s remedy, George s reme 
 dies were not exhausted, and so he kept on administering 
 them, and she saw no necessity for getting well, and both 
 regretted when the shores of France came in view, as they 
 at last did. 
 
 George, when they left the ship, could not help admit 
 ting that the brotherly feeling for Flo was stronger than 
 that which he had entertained for the sisters ; but he sup 
 posed that it was owing to the fact of his having in that 
 case to divide himself among three, while in this all was 
 concentrated on one. 
 
 He rode with her in the carriage that bore her to her 
 home in the suburbs of Bordeaux; but not wishing to in 
 terrupt the cordiality of meeting by the presence of a 
 stranger, he bade her good by, with the promise of an im 
 mediate call, and gave her a chaste, brotherly kiss at part 
 ing, which she returned in a sisterly manner. 
 
320 PAKTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 He drove to his hotel, thinking what a charming person 
 she was, and was glad to think he had been instrumental 
 in alleviating the pangs of her sea-sickness by his care. 
 
 He called upon her the next day, and found her equally 
 charming. He saw her father, a perfect wreck of a man 
 mentally, although his bodily health was good. He knew 
 his daughter, but had no comprehension beyond the 
 simplest facts. All business grasp was gone, and when 
 she tried to introduce George as the companion of her 
 voyage and her protector, he appeared to arouse at the 
 mention of the name, rubbed his forehead thoughtfully, 
 and then relapsed into indifference. 
 
 Flo was an only child, her mother having also, for the 
 express benefit of my story, died when she was very 
 young. 
 
 Wayne went immediately to work to adjust the busi 
 ness of the concern, but found affairs so complicated that 
 months would be necessary to enable him to complete the 
 work he had to do. In the mean time his correspondence 
 with Alice had been prompt and glowing. But his letters, 
 full of enthusiastic descriptions of his fair companion, did 
 not elicit such cordial responses as he wished, and, greatly 
 to his surprise, he found them growing colder with every 
 mail. Strangely enough, he found himself making com 
 parisons between Alice and Flo, with a large percentage 
 in favor of the latter, and even questioned whether he had 
 ever loved the former at all. His visits to Flo were fre 
 quent, and with every visit arose new doubts about the 
 nature of the feeling towards Alice that had inspired him. 
 The atmosphere of correspondence grew colder and colder, 
 till it was almost ic} , and then, without explanation, letters 
 from Alice stopped coming altogether. Wayne thought 
 himself a much injured man, but found a solace in the so 
 ciety of Flo that more than compensated him. 
 
MISSING. 321 
 
 One night thereafter he and his fair patient were at the 
 theatre, enjoying an opera, when he was attracted by a 
 battery of lorgnettes aimed at him from a private box, and, 
 turning his own glass in that direction, he encountered the 
 stare of the whole Francis family, who indignantly repudi 
 ated him in the glance that they gave him. There was 
 with them a tall, big-whiskered fellow, whom he did not 
 like the appearance of, who made a motion as if to leave 
 the box, but was held back . by Alice, as though she would 
 still show herself Wayne s good angel, maugre the hostili 
 ty, if such it was, betwixt them. Before he could rightly 
 decide how to act, the party had left the box, and, without 
 explaining the motive that was evident in his conduct, he 
 turned to admiring the opera with his fair companion, to 
 whom he had never revealed the secret of his engagement 
 the ridiculous fellow ! 
 
 He consulted the papers to learn the hotel where the" 
 Francis family were stopping, and went to find them ; but 
 they had left for Germany. In the course of the day, 
 however, as he was busied with his accounts, alone, a 
 knock came upon the door, to which he responded, " Come 
 in," when the same big-whiskered man of the theatre stood 
 before him. 
 
 " Is your name George Wayne ? " he asked. 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " Then there is a card, which will tell you who I am, 
 and you can guess the object of my visit. If you cannot, 
 I will tell you." 
 
 The card bore the name of " Thomas Francis, New York." 
 
 "I suppose, by the card," said George, "that you must 
 be Captain Francis, the brother of the Misses Francis, of 
 New York, ladies for whom I entertain the profoundest 
 affection and respect, one of whom, Miss Alice, was to 
 have been my bride on my return." 
 
322 PARTINGTONIAN; PATCHWORK. 
 
 "Yes," replied tlie captain, looking very savage; "and 
 why isn t she to be your bride ? Tell me that ! " 
 
 " Pon my honor," said George, " I know no earthly rea 
 son, except that she has stopped corresponding with me ; 
 and one would not wish to marry a person who is angry 
 with him. Would you ? " 
 
 " I don t know about that," said the captain ; "but what 
 do you mean, sir, by your infamous conduct in praising 
 another in your letters to niy sister? Is that the way you 
 try to keep a young lady good-natured ? " 
 
 "I certainly have," replied George, "praised a certain 
 young lady passenger in the ship with me, who was sea 
 sick, and had no mother ; but you know how it is yourself, 
 and how natural attention at such a time would be. I 
 would not have offended my dear Alice for any thing in the 
 world ; but as she has chosen silence as the bond of peace, 
 I have nothing to say." 
 
 "But are you not going to marry her ?" shouted the 
 irate captain. 
 
 "I should not wish to do so against her will," said 
 George ; " but I stand ready to resume communications 
 when the cable is fished up from the bottom of the ocean 
 of doubt and jealousy, and re-united. Then, when I get a 
 message from Heart s Content/ I shall know what to do." 
 The captain went out without another word, and Wayne 
 resumed his figures. The captain did not put in another 
 appearance ; and in a short time George received a pack 
 age containing all of his letters to Alice, and a note .from 
 Jennie regretting the disruption of the -ties which they 
 had all hoped were to last, and bidding him a sisterly fare 
 well forever. 
 
 George dropped a tear or two upon the letter, with a 
 real feeling of sadness at his heart, and went and made a 
 confession of the whole matter to Flo, who shed sweet tears, 
 
MISSING. 323 
 
 and blamed him for not telling her before, which might 
 have prevented her Here she broke down, without 
 explanation ; but the meaning George guessed, for he 
 clasped her in his arms, and was as much delighted as 
 though she had spoken a whole chapter. In the midst of 
 the scene, to the surprise of both, a door near them opened 
 at this somewhat critical juncture, and her father stood 
 before them, who, in a terrible voice, demanded to know 
 what the scene he witnessed meant. That is what all en 
 raged fathers say, as if they do not know very well what 
 it means ! 
 
 A great change had come over the old man. He stood 
 before them in the strength of restored powers, his eyes 
 clear and bright, with too much memory, if any thing, for 
 the present comfort and peace of mind of those who stood 
 before him. 
 
 "It means, sir," said George, taking Flo by the hand 
 " that I love your daughter, and she has just avowed, by 
 implication, a similar regard for me. We feel grateful, sir, 
 that you have recovered, to consent to and bless our union." 
 
 "And what name does he bear who asks this? " replied 
 Mr. Willison. " It is a modest request, truly, for a man to 
 make whom I do not know ! " 
 
 " True, I had forgotten, sir," said George, " that, though 
 as the recent partner of Simpson, Dodge & Co., I was 
 familiar with your name, you could not be with mine. My 
 name, sir, is George Wayne." 
 
 The old man gave a start, as if electrified, and in a 
 husky voice repeated the name. Seizing the young man 
 by the arm, he turned him to the window, and gazed long 
 and earnestly upon his features. 
 
 "Holy Heaven!" said he, smiting his forehead, while 
 the tears poured from his eyes, " why was I waked to con 
 sciousness like this? And yet my returning saves us all 
 
324 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 from a great calamity. Flo, my child, leave George 
 Wayne " speaking the name as if with difficulty 
 " with me." 
 
 She did as directed, casting a troubled look at George 
 as she left the room, while he stood with all the active 
 emotions visible on his face. 
 
 " You cannot marry her," said the old man, when they 
 were alone. 
 
 " Why not ? " asked George, in a tone of surprise, grief, 
 and some vexation. 
 
 " Because," replied he, " she is your sister." 
 
 " It cannot be ! " almost shrieked the lover, as he heard 
 the words. 
 
 " Alas, it is too true, as I can convince you," said Mr. 
 Willison Willison no longer. " I, too, bear, or did bear, 
 the name of George Wayne ; but years ago I lost it, lost 
 my identity, and, strange as it may seem, every thing by 
 which I could know myself. In an oblivious state, I wan 
 dered away from home and friends, and awoke amid 
 scenes that were new to a new life. I did not know my 
 name, the place I came from, the friends I had known, 
 though I never forgot that I had a wife and children. 
 These clung to me like a ray of sunlight in the gloom of a 
 cavern ; but I could get no clew to them. At last, in de 
 spair, I gave them up, hopeless of a re-union with them, 
 married a worthy woman, the mother of Flo, and became 
 Arthur Willison, correspondent of a respectable New York 
 house, and made money, till the malady came that struck 
 me down. I have had what seemed dreams of my early 
 life a misty memory of a ride in a blazing sun frdTn a 
 busy town to my own home, of being made partly uncon 
 scious, and leaving my cart in search of water in a wood, 
 where all reason left me, until I came to myself here. I 
 was told that I had shipped on a vessel at New York for 
 
MISSING. 325 
 
 this port ; that I appeared in a state of bewilderment when 
 asked to sign the shipping-papers, and made my mark, giv 
 ing the name I bear. And now, tell me, is your mother 
 yet alive?" 
 
 He watched eagerly for an answer. 
 
 " She is/ replied George Wayne, the color of his hope 
 all faded out, as it must necessarily have done, for -did ever 
 such a crushing weight obtrude itself upon " love s young 
 dream " as a mutual father to interpose objections to the 
 banns ? Charles E-eade, in his most artistic inspiration, I 
 think, never conceived aught like this. I lead him here, 
 though, in ordinary cases, he could give me eight points in 
 ten, and beat me. 
 
 " Thank God for that ! " said the old man ; " and now, 
 my son, show your manhood by endeavoring to overcome 
 this hopeless passion, and give your mind to the re-union 
 of your parents, and the reparation of past accidents, 
 grateful for worse accidents just escaped." 
 
 George went to inform Flo, who received the announce 
 ment with astonishment, and some considerable regret 
 that Pate had transformed a real nice lover into a very 
 ordinary brother ; but he consoled her, and kissed her tears 
 away, as he had a right to do, and behaved so tenderly 
 that Flo admitted that a brother was not so very much 
 worse than a lover, after all. 
 
 Thus matters stood, when George wrote an urgent letter 
 to his mother to come to France by the next packet, and, 
 though it is very easy to state the fact, it took months for 
 her to reach her destination. When she came, George 
 carried her at once to Mr. Willison s residence, and told 
 her she must not be surprised, though one came there as if 
 from the dead to receive her. She looked on his face in 
 great alarm, but his smile re-assured her. 
 
 " Suppose it should be father ! " 
 
326 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Oh, no ; it can t be ! " she said, wildly. 
 
 But the door was swung wide, and there stood the ap 
 parition of the former George Wayne, who came towards 
 her with open arms, with the same look on his face, and 
 she, simply murmuring, " My hushand ! " was enclosed in 
 his embrace. 
 
 She had fainted, of course. 
 
 The morning journals announced the return from their 
 travels of the Francis family, and to their hotel George 
 Wayne went very early to propitiate the dark deities that 
 at this time were brooding over both the houses. He 
 found the captain in the reading-room, who received him, 
 of course, very coolly ; but upon his opening the discus 
 sion by an explanation of the new state of affairs, and ly 
 ing a little about the new sister by suppressing the fact 
 that he did not know she was such when he wrote about 
 her, the captain was mollified, and he was sent aloft as an 
 ambassador of peace, returning soon with an invitation to 
 the prodigal to come up stairs, which he accepted ; and 
 there the inharmonies were adjusted, to the delight of all. 
 
 I might as well say here that George and Alice were 
 married at the American consul s, and it was the greatest 
 and grandest wedding celebrated in that city for many 
 years, if I may except that of Captain Francis and Flo 
 Willison soon after, which happened as a matfer of course ; 
 anybody can see that it must have happened in such an 
 atmosphere as surrounded them. 
 
 As soon as the business of his house was adjusted, 
 which was now easily done with the help of the rec.overed 
 George Wayne, all the parties returned to America, the 
 old folks going by themselves to their first home, every 
 scene of which was restored to the mind of the missing 
 man. When they walked up the principal street of 
 Elmwood, with Harry by their side, the astonishment of 
 
MIGRATORY BONES. 327 
 
 the people knew no bounds. The old hobbled out to re 
 ceive their long-absent friend, while the young rushed in with 
 wild curiosity. The bells were rung, and, when the peo 
 ple assembled on the village green, the old minister knelt 
 down and devoutly thanked God, to which all responded 
 AMEN. 
 
 MIGRATORY BONES,* 
 
 SHOWING THE VAGABONDISE TENDENCY OF BONES 
 THAT AEE LOOSE. 
 
 WE all have heard of Dr. Redman, 
 
 The man in New York who deals with dead men, 
 
 Who sits at a table, 
 
 And straightway is able 
 To talk with the spirits of those who have fled, mail ! 
 
 And gentles and ladies 
 
 Located in Hades, 
 Through his miraculous mediation, 
 
 Declare how they feel, 
 
 And such things reveal 
 As suits their genius for iinpartation. 
 Tis not with any irreverent spirit 
 I give the tale, or flout it, or jeer it; 
 
 * Dr. Eedman, of New York, was a noted medium, and it was 
 said that, for a while, wherever he might be, hones would be 
 dropped all about him, to the confusion and wonder of everybody. 
 These bones, he said, were brought him by a spirit, whose bones 
 were of no further use to him. 
 
328 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWOKK. 
 
 For many good folk 
 
 Not subject to joke 
 Declare for the fact that they both see and hear it. 
 
 It comes from New York, though, 
 
 And it might be hard work, though, 
 To bring belief to any point near it. 
 
 Now this Dr. Redman, 
 
 Who deals with the dead men, 
 Once cut up a fellow whose spirit had fled, man, 
 
 Who (the fellow) perchance 
 
 Had indulged in that dance 
 Performed at the end of a hempen thread, man ; 
 
 And the cut-up one, 
 
 (A son of a gun !) 
 
 Like Banquo, though he was dead, wasn t done, 
 Insisted in very positive tones 
 That he d be ground to calcined manure, 
 
 Or any other evil endure, 
 Before he d give up his right to his bones ! 
 And then, through knocks, the resolute deTad man 
 Gave his bones a bequest to Redman. 
 
 In Hartford, Conn., 
 
 This matter was done, 
 And E-edman the bones highly thought on, 
 
 When, changed to New York 
 
 Was the scene of his work, 
 In conjunction with Dr. Orton. 
 
 Now mark the wonder that here appears : 
 After a season of months and years, 
 
 Comes up again the dead man, 
 Who, in a very practical way, 
 Says he ll bring his bones some day, 
 
MIGRATORY BONES. 329 
 
 And give them again to Redman. 
 
 When, sure enough 
 (Though some that are rough 
 
 Might call the narrative " devilish tough "), 
 
 One charming day 
 
 In the month of May, 
 As Orton and Redman walked the street 
 
 Through the severing air, 
 
 From they knew not where, 
 
 Came a positive bone, all bleached and bare, 
 That dropped at the doctor s wondering feet ! 
 
 Then the sprightly dead man 
 
 Knocked out to Redman 
 The plan that lay in his ghostly head, man : 
 
 He d carry the freight, 
 
 Unheeding its weight ; 
 They needn t question how, or about it ; 
 
 But they might be sure 
 
 The bones he d procure, 
 And not make any great bones about it. 
 From that he made it a special point 
 Each day for their larder to furnish a joint t 
 
 From overhead, and from all around, 
 Upon the floor, and upon the ground, 
 Pell-mell, 
 Down fell 
 
 Low bones, and high bones, 
 Jaw bones, and thigh bones, 
 Until the doctors, beneath their power, 
 Ducked like ducks in a thunder-shower ! 
 Armfuls of bones, 
 Bagfuls of bones, 
 28* 
 
330 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 Cartloads of bones, 
 
 No end to the multitudinous bones, 
 Until, forsooth, this thought gained head, man, 
 That this invisible friend, the dead man, 
 
 Had chartered a band 
 
 From -the shadowy land, 
 
 Who had turned to work with a busy hand, 
 And boned all their bones for Dr. Redman ! 
 
 Now, how to account for all the mystery 
 Of this same weird and fantastical history ? 
 
 That is the question 
 
 For people s digestion, 
 And calls aloud for instant untwistery ! 
 
 Of this we are certain, 
 
 By this lift of the curtain, 
 That still they re alive for work or enjoyment, 
 
 Though I must confess 
 
 That I scarcely can guess 
 Why they don t choose some useful employment. 
 
 A NEW YEAR S REVERY. 
 
 DON T talk to me of waste-baskets for old letters ; 
 even the insidious plea of eight cents per pound paid for 
 paper stock moves me not ; they must be burned. As the 
 old Romans burned their dead, and preserved their ashes 
 in urns, cherishing them with religious reverence and af 
 fection, so old letters, embodying loves, and fears, and ex 
 periences, should be thus served, nor be allowed to pass to 
 baser uses. They have done their parts as ministers to 
 
A NEW YEAR S EEVEKY. 331 
 
 our pleasure or knowledge, and are deserving of the con 
 secration of fire and preservation from ignoble purposes. 
 There is a measure of pain in the consignment to ashes of 
 that which has been a part of one s self, which has sounded 
 the various chords of feeling, and drawn-out by its subtile 
 power the melody (or the discord) of our being some of 
 it that the world has not heard, which has but silently 
 breathed and exhaled to harmonize with the music of the 
 spheres. Letters, unless upon matters pertaining to his 
 tory, or science, or the general welfare in other forms, 
 should always be burned. Private joys and sorrows, that 
 form the subject matter of ordinary letter- writin-g, should 
 not be transmitted for the gratification of curious eyes, sub 
 ject to invidious construction or the remark of the indiffer 
 ent. They belong to me, and me alone, and they shall fol 
 low me, or lead me, to the bourne towards which we both 
 tend. 
 
 I take from the receptacle where they have lain these 
 many years the old soiled bundles, yellow with time, and 
 the accretive dust, the hint of their own decay, gathered 
 upon them. Here they are before me, pile upon pile, an 
 incongruous collection, their contents long since forgotten, 
 their writers dead or estranged, which is worse, or 
 scattered to the ends of the earth. The old have passed 
 away, the young become old, and mayhap all this living 
 record of mind, that was, has not a recollection living in 
 the breast of any. Yet here the thoughts, and hopes, and 
 fears remain, and ere I consign them to the pyre, I will 
 once again peruse them, and refresh my memory regarding 
 their contents. 
 
 It is a befitting task for the close of a year, at a time 
 when more serious reflections are awakened and retrospec 
 tion finds exercise. Then the old forms come back to us, 
 and the old scenes revive with wonderful vividness, need- 
 
332 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWOBK. 
 
 ing but the voices of the past to give them vitality. la 
 these soiled packages are the voices, still as eloquent with 
 the thought that then filled them as the day they were 
 written. 
 
 Here is one from Dartmouth College scholarly, and 
 imbued with the young ambition that was going to open 
 the world like an oyster, and compel it to shell out. The 
 writer is now an editor, the oyster but moderately seen in 
 his life s results, but the old-time hope still remains, and 
 the warm feeling displayed in his friendship still exists, re 
 vealed in a thousand domestic virtues and a geniality 
 of life that renders him beloved. . . . This is a badlj -- 
 spelled remembrance of a kind-hearted schoolmate in the 
 Granite State, whose ideas of taste would hardly find echo 
 in the modern saloons, but whose profanity would have 
 done credit to to-day s greater experience. He was killed 
 by a whale, it is supposed, up by the North Pole, and 
 nothing but a spiritual communication, that spelled his 
 name wrong, the best proof in the world of his identity, 
 was heard from him afterwards. . . . This is from a 
 pious adviser of my youth, long gone to his reward, coun 
 selling me to avoid the many temptations to be met with 
 in the modern Babylon, as he regarded the Boston of that 
 day (what would he have said of this ?) and request 
 ing me to send him, by stage, a pound of tobacco of a par 
 ticular brand, the value of which he would remit, which he 
 never did. . . . This is one of deeper interest, brimming 
 with the fulness of a sister s love unselfish, devoted, 
 faithful. How pure such love seems, as we wake from our 
 dream of passion and sin and hear its voice, speaking to 
 us this time from the open heavens that bend as if beck 
 oning our attention towards that sphere where such love 
 alone is known, to be found " when corruption shall have 
 put on incorruption," and the uses of passion, the sever- 
 
A NEW YEAft s EEVEBY. 333 
 
 est trial of love, shall have been forgotten in the higher 
 and brighter walks of the spiritual life ! Burn, burn ! the al 
 tar of sacrifice is greedy for the treasure that I fling upon it. 
 
 This soiled and crumpled paper recalls an incident of my 
 early experience. Long ago I received this missive, di 
 rected in trembling and indecisive characters, requesting 
 my aid in a very urgent matter. It gave an inkling of, 
 what I fully guessed, one of those incidents in life that 
 too often happen, which sink manhood and womanhood 
 so low that we turn in disgust from contemplating them 
 even while we stretch out our hands to save. My little 
 playmate Mary, the letter told me, the widowed mother s 
 youngest and fairest child, had been " lured by a villain 
 from her native home," and was now, it was feared, in Bos 
 ton. I subsequently learned that a young scamp from the 
 metropolis had, during a month s sojourn in the vicinity of 
 her home, won the affection of the too susceptible girl, 
 and that, yielding to him, she had left her almost heart 
 broken mother, who, in this crumpled and faded letter, is 
 again entreating me, by old companionship and old love, 
 to save her dove from the hands of the spoiler. 
 
 Never did knight of old enter upon chivalric devoir 
 with more enthusiasm than I did to find the whereabouts 
 of the runaway. I walked through every street, scrutinized 
 every carriage that passed by me, looked in at every win 
 dow, attended upon all exhibitions that would excite female 
 curiosity ; but no clew could I obtain of the object of my 
 search. My mission led me into some equivocal localities, 
 subjecting me to many invidious shrugs and comments. 
 Once or twice I was addressed by females of character far 
 from snow-like, to whom I freely told my errand, and from 
 whom I received an encouraging and even a kind word, 
 leading me to look with different eyes upon a class so lowly 
 sunk, but who yet retained enough of the divine to think 
 
334 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 with pity on a mother s grief and entertain a desire to save 
 her daughter from a life of shame. Grave people shook 
 their heads to see me in dangerous vicinities, which they 
 knew better than I did 5 and some even went so far as to 
 advise with me in the matter, repeating to me Solomon s 
 words about the strange woman, whose steps take hold on 
 the regions of darkness, and of the dart that pierces the 
 liver. When I spoke to them, however, of the matter on 
 which I was bent, they coolly told me that such a subter 
 fuge was unworthy so well-seeming a young man, and 
 turned away as, if they were afraid I should prove that I 
 was honest. This was a lesson I learned very early : That 
 it is not alone to those who make the loudest professions we 
 must look for genuine good ; that even the poor outlawed 
 girl may have more of the leaven of sympathy and love in 
 her deeper nature than those who practise external right 
 eousness to the last syllable of the mint and cumin, but who 
 are sadly wanting in the weightier matter of the law. 
 Poor, outcast, degraded, wretched, trodden under feet of 
 men, how much brighter this sweet flame of charity 
 seems to glow when we see it kindle amid such surround 
 ings ! I went into obscure courts, and eyed all the windows 
 with pertinacious impudence, as it must have appeared to 
 the inmates, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mary. Some 
 times, as my too bold glance compelled a hasty retreat of 
 some fair one from a window, I would fancy that it must 
 be she, and waited to see the face appear again, almost de 
 spairing with each disappointment. 
 
 The facilities for inquiry were not then as now, when 
 the police system, like Argus, presents a hundred eyes 
 through which to look. I enlisted the town police in the 
 matter, and after a month s time, learned that one answer 
 ing my description was living in a little cottage in Cam 
 bridge. 
 
. A NEW YEAR S EEVERY. 335 
 
 This intimation gave me great joy, and I resolved to go 
 at once to see her, and entreat her to go back to the home 
 she had left. Armed with this resolution, I went to 
 Cambridge, and found the house described. Up to this 
 moment I had formed no definite plan of operation. 
 I knew nothing of the condition in which she was liv 
 ing, if found, beyond the mere suspicion of the moment 
 for which there were probabilities strong enough, but 
 by no means proofs. I could make no charges, and my 
 entreaties might be taken as insults, securing me a rapid 
 passage to the door, and a swift ejectment through it. 
 As I stood hesitating, a young man passed out of the 
 house. He was just such a one as I should have selected 
 for the person described, dressed according to the most 
 tasteful fashion of the time, and wearing about him all the 
 appearances of a scape-grace. He "gave me a passing 
 glance, without suspecting my errand, and vanished round 
 the first corner. 
 
 Left to myself, and hesitating what to do, I was relieved 
 by a voice uttering my name. I pretended some surprise, 
 and went to the door, which was opened to me by Mary 
 herself. She was as pretty as ever ; but I fancied there 
 was an expression of care on her face ; though she gladly 
 welcomed me, and smiled upon me with her early brightness. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you ! " she said, shaking my hand ; 
 " and it is such a queer thing your finding me, or. rather 
 my finding you, because I did!" 
 
 I assured her I was delighted to see her, spoke of the 
 long time since we had met, and alluded to our former in 
 timacy. 
 
 " And Mary," said I, " what a delightful home, you have 
 here ! It realizes the old-time ideal of love in a cottage, 
 with honeysuckled windows and all the romantic incident 
 of young affection. I didn t hear of your marriage. He 
 
336 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 is a fortunate man who has such a fairy to bless his bower. 
 I was in hopes, once, Mary, that I should share my fate 
 with you ; but it was only a dream, and you are happy 
 with another. "Well, be it so that you are happy is 
 enough for me. Who is your husband ? " 
 
 I looked in her face, and saw she was as pale as death, 
 though she tried to smile, as a rose strives to bloom with 
 the canker eating at its heart. 
 
 " What is the matter, Mary ? " said I ; " are you ill ? " 
 
 " No, no/ 7 she replied, " not ill ; but a chill came over 
 me, and" She burst into tears. 
 
 " Dear Mary," I exclaimed, " something has happened 
 to you. Are you not happy ? Does does he not treat 
 you kindly ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said she, with a painful effort to look cheer 
 ful. " Oh ! I am very happy, and he he couldn t treat 
 me better. See here ; I have every thing to content me. 
 Here is my music, here my books, here my work." 
 
 " Yes," replied I, with a sublime attempt at Mentorship, 
 " every thing but one peace of mind." 
 
 She placed her hand on her heart, as though I had 
 planted a dagger there, and almost screamed, as she ex 
 claimed, 
 
 " True, true, and without that all the rest is hideous ; 
 but how did you suspect this ? " 
 
 I told her that I had read it in her looks. 
 
 " Do my features indeed reveal this ? " said she, sadly, and 
 going to a glass. " Has the poison done its work so soon ? " 
 
 " Poison ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No, no ; what am I talking about ? " she cried ; " I am 
 wild to rave thus, and treat you so badly, who are my old 
 schoolmate and friend, for you are my friend, and I have 
 few friends now. And now tell me every thing about 
 about our old friends, } T OU know. How long it is since I 
 have heard from them ! " 
 
A NEW YEAR S EEVERY. 337 
 
 She was now all attention, and I proceeded to recount 
 the many things that had transpired since she left, speaking 
 incidentally of her mother, and noting its effect upon her. 
 She looked down and sighed, but asked no questions on 
 those points that I saw she thought the most of. The 
 scene was mutually painful on my part to withhold my 
 knowledge of her secret ; on hers to keep me from know 
 ing it. I parted from her without intimating that I knew 
 aught about her, or that our meeting had been other than 
 accidental, reserving my errand till the next time we should 
 meet. 
 
 I resolved that but little time should elapse before this, 
 and in about a week I went again, and was received 
 with the same kindness. There was a deeper shadow on 
 her brow, as I plainly saw ; but her lips discoursed lightly, 
 and a pleasant laugh frequently rippled upon the wave of 
 our conversation. At last I spoke. 
 
 " Mary, I have heard from your mother since I was here 
 last." 
 
 " The start that she gave, and the look that she turned 
 on me ! saying, in an almost inaudible tone, 
 
 "Have you? 7 
 
 " Yes/ I replied ; " and she wants you to come home. 
 She is very sad that you left her ; your absence breaks her 
 heart." 
 
 She saw that I knew all. Folding her face in her hands, 
 she poured forth a torrent of self-crimination, regretting 
 the misery she had inflicted, but not, through it all, impli 
 cating the one who had led her into trouble, ending by 
 saying that she could never go home again. There was 
 bitter sadness in the tone in which this was said ; but when 
 I attempted expostulation she repeated her words with 
 more emphasis, thanking me for my effort in her behalf, 
 and sending by me a blessing for her mother, whom she 
 29 
 
338 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 did not dare to write to. I left her in a very sad frame of 
 mind. A few days after I called again, but the bird had 
 flown ; the shutters were put up at the windows, and a 
 placard, " To LET," was nailed on to the door. I imme 
 diately wrote to her mother of my discovery and disap 
 pointment; and though I had still my eyes open to see her, 
 if possible, I hardly dared hope for it, deeming that she 
 had been placed beyond the chance of my again troubling 
 her. 
 
 Three years passed away, and the memory of Mary had 
 become overwhelmed by the wave of passing events. I 
 had received no tidings of her, and supposed she might 
 have gone down beneath the tide, as so many had done, 
 and left no trace by which to ascertain her fate. Passing 
 along Washington Street hastily, one day, I saw a face that 
 came across the disk of my vision like the memory of a 
 painful dream vague, ill-defined, with nothing tangible 
 by which to locate or identify it. 
 
 I could not, for the life of me, recall the time or place 
 where I had seen it, but it was a face that, once seen, was 
 not to be forgotten. It was handsome, proud almost to 
 insolence, and bore upon it a certain stamp of breeding 
 that will always reveal itself. I turned to look upon it, but 
 it had been swallowed up by the crowd, and blaming my 
 treacherous memory, I gave it up as hopeless. 
 
 There was an exhibition of paintings at the old Athe 
 naeum in Pearl Street about this time. It was unusually 
 fine, and comprised the works of many of the best native 
 and foreign artists. Sauntering along and leisurely exam 
 ining the collection, I at last stood before a portrait that I 
 thought I recognized. Looking at the catalogue, I found 
 it bore the simple title, "Portrait of a Gentleman." I 
 tried to connect it with something outside some inci 
 dent or scene but? could not. Passing along, in the 
 
A NEW YEAR S REVERY. 389 
 
 painful struggle to recollect, I was attracted by Duverne s 
 great work, " Mary and the Master," when, like a flash of 
 light, it came over me that the face which puzzled me was 
 his that I had seen leave the cottage in Cambridge, three 
 years before. I involuntarily said, " Mary." 
 
 I have lived long enough to discriminate between 
 appointment and accident, as any one must who sees the 
 wonderful phenomena imputed to accident take their part 
 in the formation of fortune or character, or the coinciden- 
 tals that astonish us by their frequency. Thus the simple 
 name, " Mary," at this moment, breathed upon my memory 
 the retrocast of years, and endowed it with form, and peo 
 pled it. I was almost startled by the suddenness and 
 vividness of the recollection, when a hearty voice at my 
 side said, 
 
 " A fine picture, sir." 
 
 I turned to the speaker, and saw an elderly gentleman 
 with his hand rolled up and held to his eye, looking through 
 it earnestly at the painting. I saw that he had addressed 
 me, and assented to the proposition that it was a fine 
 painting. 
 
 " But who is Duverne ? " said he. 
 
 I assured him that I had never before heard of him, and 
 indeed have never again heard of him to this day. After 
 a few brief exchanges on art and artists, I related to him 
 the reason of my ejaculation of the name that had attracted 
 his attention, and asked him to look at the portrait that 
 had provoked my curiosity. 
 
 " That ! " said he, in some surprise ; " that is my nephew, 
 sir ; I may almost say my son, for he will possess what little 
 I may have left when I pass from the stage. A well-look 
 ing young man, sir." 
 
 I assented very readily, as he really was, in appearance, 
 all that could be wished. 
 
340 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Is he married ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Married ! " he replied, almost angrily ; " no, the dog, 
 and that is what troubles me. If he would only marry 
 and settle down into a steady-going citizen, I should feel 
 some hope of him, and be better assured of his future hap 
 piness. He is a little wild, you know the fault, as some 
 deem it, of young people, though I am not a stickler for 
 entire propriety at twenty-five. At any rate I can for 
 give a good deal in one at that age." 
 
 " Have you urged him to marry ? " I asked, holding the 
 great secret in my heart which made me bold. 
 
 " Certainly I have," he replied, shaking his cane threaten 
 ingly, but fondly, at the picture ; " certainly I have, but he 
 pertinaciously laughs me to silence when I propose it ; and 
 I have such a match for him ! wealth and beauty, sir, 
 waiting but the motion to fall into his arms. You know 
 it is true, you rogue, you," said he, addressing the picture. 
 
 " Does he not love some one else, sir ? " I ventured, but 
 instantly saw that I had touched a tender point. 
 
 " He dare not," said the old gentleman, turning very 
 red ; " he dare not ; for should he venture to bestow his 
 affection where I did not wish him to, I would cut him off, 
 sir, from all forgiveness, and not one of my dollars should 
 he ever touch." 
 
 " Still human nature is weak," I urged ; " and human 
 love capricious ; it will go where it is sent, like the measles. 
 I know of no immunity that any of us possess." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " he replied. 
 
 " He might do worse, even, than love without your con 
 sent," I said. 
 
 How ? " he asked. 
 
 I then drew for him a fancy picture of a young man who 
 perhaps would do as I presumed he had done, telling Mary s 
 story minutely as I had learned it, coloring it with the 
 
A NEW YEAR S EEVEEY. 341 
 
 skill of an artist, and putting the color lavishly on the 
 effective points. He listened very attentively, and sensi 
 bly assented to my proposition that this were worse than 
 the crime of loving without his assent. 
 
 "This were an atrocity/ said he, "that I would never 
 overlook. I would disown him were he my son ten times 
 over. But my boy is incapable of any thing of this kind. 
 I have heard rumors of his indiscretion, but he has dis 
 avowed them to me, when accused of them, and I know 
 him too well to doubt him. Besides, years and travel have 
 tempered his youth, and the period of danger is passed. 
 He has for three years been in Europe." 
 
 This accounted for my not having seen him. I thought 
 I would here run the risk of speaking the thought that 
 was in my mind. 
 
 " And yet," said I, very seriously, " I bring, here in the 
 presence of his effigy, and of the affection that would 
 shield him, the charge of having committed the very crime 
 depicted in my sketch." 
 
 The old man almost shouted, " It can t be true." 
 
 " It is true, sir," I said ; and proceeded to tell him my 
 discovery of the cottage at Cambridge, the face momenta 
 rily seen and remembered, the recognition of it in the 
 street, and the final identification of it in the gallery through 
 the mnemotechnic hint of the associated " Mary." He 
 listened attentively, and assured me he would sift the 
 affair to the bottom. He wished me to be present at the 
 interview with his nephew, and as the young man did not 
 know me, he proposed that I should attend in the capacity 
 of lawyer, to draw up some pretended marriage contract 
 which he was going to insist upon having executed. Hand 
 ing me his card in exchange for mine, the old gentleman 
 left the gallery. 
 
 The time came sooner than. I expected ; for the next 
 29* 
 
342 PAJITINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 day a note was brought me requesting my attendance 
 that evening in Blank Street a street then "respectable," 
 but now given over to desecrating uses, where washing is 
 done in consecrated halls, and tobacco and gingerbread 
 present temptation for old and young, from windows, then 
 rich with aristocratic hangings, now hung with onions. 
 Punctual to the time named, I presented myself, and was 
 at once ushered into a spacious and elegant parlor, in which 
 were my old friend and the original of the picture in the 
 Athenaeum. I was introduced as Mr. Trevor, and was 
 received with a seeming of shy reserve that promised little 
 for an extended acquaintance. 
 
 " I have sent for you, Mr. Trevor," said the old gentle 
 man, "on .a matter which concerns me and my nephew 
 very closely, though I have said nothing to him of my in 
 tentions. I have set my heart upon his marrying a lady, 
 young, rich, beautiful, and accomplished. The act would 
 establish him for life in competency. Many times I have 
 expressed my wish to see this, and as many times have 
 been denied; therefore I call upon you to prepare such 
 papers as may be necessary to secure the object." 
 
 I looked at the young man. His face was deathly pale. 
 His lips were compressed, as though he were struggling to 
 repress the spirit of resistance that filled him. 
 
 " Uncle," said he, " I had hoped that this matter was 
 settled forever, and have, as you say, repeatedly declined 
 this union. The lady is all you claim for her, but I never 
 can love her as a man should love a woman to marry her, 
 and I must again beg you to give up the hope you have 
 clung to. Command me in any thing but that, and I will 
 obey you." 
 
 The old gentleman looked at him fiercely as he spoke, 
 and I saw the cloud gathering that suddenly burst upon 
 the victim. 
 
A NEW YEAK S REVERY. 343 
 
 " Suppose," replied he, " that I should tell you to give 
 me an account of the last three years of your life, with all 
 its duplicity and wickedness, counting in a broken-hearted 
 mother s tears, a daughter s shame, a home deserted, and 
 despair installed where peace had prevailed. Suppose I 
 should demand this of you ? " 
 
 11 And if you should demand it," said the young man, 
 proudly, " I should answer that the record would appear bet 
 ter than you believe, however much it might count against 
 me in your esteem. The record is painful to me in some 
 of its features, because of their concealment from you ; but 
 in the eye of conscience I am acquitted. The wrong I have 
 done has proceeded from yourself. Dependent upon you, 
 and knowing your feeling regarding my marriage, I had 
 the fortune to fall in love with one in all ways deserving 
 of it, but poor. In the fervency of young affection that 
 saw only its own gratification, I induced her to leave her 
 mother s house, under a promise of marriage, which prom 
 ise was faithfully redeemed. I married her under a vow 
 of secrecy, fearing your anger, and retiracy became 
 necessary ; and for years has the nest been hidden that 
 holds my bird. She has suffered untold anguish from the 
 concealment, bore shame and reproach for my sake ; but 
 from this hour she shall be free." 
 
 The vindication of Mary s honor gave me great happi 
 ness, and I saw that her confusion in the cottage might 
 well have sprung from the embarrassment of her new posi 
 tion, self-exiled from home, giving up all ties for the new 
 affection, which I was glad to learn had not been mis 
 placed. 
 
 The old gentleman was livid with rage. 
 
 " This to me ! " said he. " / the cause of your wrong 
 doing ! You have made your bed, and you must lie in it, 
 though it prove of thorns. Leave me, sir; I wish to see 
 you no more." 
 
344 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 The young man went out sorrowfully. My feeling had 
 changed to admiration for his honorable conduct, and fol 
 lowing him to the door, I "begged his address, that I might, 
 if possible, reconcile the parties, requesting him. to keep 
 his secret until he heard from me. He gave me his ad 
 dress at once : " George Ulm, Hazel Street, Maiden." 
 Maiden was at this time one of the inaccessible places. 
 Isolated by toll-bridges, nothing but necessity ever brought 
 its denizens in contact with city life, and one might well be 
 considered secluded who took up a residence there ! 
 
 As soon as he was gone I commenced the task of recon 
 ciliation, which I knew I could achieve. I pointed out the 
 susceptibility of the young, the attractiveness of the object, 
 the consciousness of dependence, the hope of favorable 
 results, and more particularly I dwelt upon the honor of 
 the young man through it all, so in keeping with the sen 
 timent advanced by the old gentlemen himself at our first 
 interview. My plea was effectual, and the old man re 
 lented. I asked his permission to manage a little surprise 
 that I had a plot for, and carte blanche privilege was 
 allowed me. I wrote immediately to Mary s mother, giv 
 ing her the joyful news of her daughter s recovery, and the 
 more joyful news of her vindicated fame, and requested 
 her attendance in Boston by the next stage. She came 
 immediately, and by the old gentleman s request, who en 
 tered with an excellent spirit into the business, made her 
 home at his house. 
 
 Things were ripe for the denoument, and it was now the 
 eve of New Year s Day. I prepared a note, written very 
 hastily, thus : 
 MR. GEORGE ULM. 
 
 Dear Sir : If you wish to see your uncle alive, come by the coach 
 immediately, and bring your wife with you. Haste. 
 
 Yours truly, A. TREVOR. 
 
 BOSTON, December 31. 
 
A NEW YEAR S KEVEKY. 345 
 
 I gave the note to a careful driver with directions where 
 to deliver it, and in about three hours, I heard a carriage 
 drive up to the door, and hasty feet ascending the steps. 
 The shutters had been closed,, so that no light came through 
 the windows, and the house looked dark from the outside. 
 The parlor door was thrown open by a familiar hand, and 
 a blaze of light burst upon George Ulm and Mary his wife, 
 as they stood in the presence of the mollified uncle, the 
 fond mother, and the diplomatic friend meaning myself. 
 Mary threw herself into her mother s arms, and begged 
 her forgiveness, and George, after a moment s hesitation, 
 stepped forward, and grasped his uncle s extended hand, 
 saying, 
 
 "Why, what means this ? I was told to come if I wished 
 to see you alive." 
 
 " Well, you didn t want to see me dead did you ? " 
 said he ; " and now where is the witch that has wrought 
 this enchantment ? " 
 
 "Here she is, uncle;" and, leading Mary before him, 
 they both knelt at his feet. 
 
 " Get up, you deluders," said he, " and don t unman me. 
 Preserve your homage for the King that holds our destiny 
 in his hand, adjusting the balance by his will whose 
 great law is the law of love eh, Trevor ? " 
 
 It was the happiest scene I ever looked upon. It was 
 a history I had helped make, of which I was glad. Mary 
 afterwards confessed to me the misery she felt when I 
 visited her in Cambridge would have given the world 
 to tell me all, but was restrained by her vow. Suffering 
 rather than divulge a secret a noble instance of reticence 
 in a woman. 
 
346 PAftTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 MY FAMILY. 
 
 BY PAUL SMUDGE, M. G. S, 
 
 I DON T blame any one, who can boast of good blood, 
 for occasionally alluding to it. I respect blood ; it tells 
 in the long run, though I do not think that a man who can 
 not boast of blood has any cause to despair. A man s 
 blood becomes purified and ennobled by his aspirations, 
 and a succession of good deeds will purify the blood, while 
 a life of meanness will soon vitiate the finest toned fluid 
 that ever coursed through blue veins. I never, to confess 
 the honest truth, thought much about blood or family till 
 
 I lived in the city of B , in the year 18 , when a 
 
 Genealogical Society was formed, and by some curious ac 
 cident, I was elected a member. I never authorized any 
 one to propose me for such an honor ; I never asked who 
 thrust the honor upon me ; but I paid my admission fee, 
 and assumed the responsibilities without attending the 
 meetings. 
 
 The fact that I was a member of a Genealogical Socie 
 ty made an impression, and occasionally, when I shaved my 
 self, I complimented the gentleman in the glass upon the 
 important position he held. When I entered a crowded 
 car and noticed no movement made to give me a place, I 
 excused a lack of courtesy to a distinguished man on ac 
 count of their ignorance of the position which I held; and 
 once, when applying for a choice seat at the theatre, when 
 there was a tremendous rush, I obtained precedence over 
 other applicants, as I always supposed, by adding to my 
 
MY FAMILY. 347 
 
 name the initials of M. G. S. But these emoluments of 
 my position soon passed away, and my conscience began 
 to intimate to me that I was rather unworthy of the honor 
 I enjoyed. The inward monitor opened its port-holes and 
 I felt pierced with a desire to do something which should 
 make me indeed a valued member of society. I thought 
 the matter over very seriously ; and as I was putting on 
 the member s boots one morning, the exertion started the 
 perspiration, and at the same time an idea. The idea -en 
 larged as I drew on the member s pants, it revolved itself 
 into shape as I buttoned his suspenders, and when I had 
 tied his cravat, the idea had become a part of my being. 
 I resolved to prepare a Genealogical Tree of the Smudge 
 family. 
 
 This was my resolution ; but how to proceed was the 
 question. I knew I had a father and mother, and a grand 
 father, perhaps two, though I could not remember hav 
 ing left the family roof at an early age any particular 
 allusion to my paternal grandfather. The tree grew in my 
 brain for at least three days, and having become finally 
 rooted there, I was obliged to give it attention, or it might 
 have proved injurious to my mental faculties. * Uncertain 
 whether to commence at the top branches and run the tree 
 into the ground, or to start at the root and ascend sky 
 ward, I was forced to take advice ; and in doing so I was 
 told that in Shirley a family by the name of Smudge had 
 long resided, who were reputed to have a vast amount of 
 information in regard to the original stock. The key was 
 thus obtained to my great work, and I resolved to trace back 
 the race of Smudge till I reached the first one of that name. 
 I therefore wrote to the town clerk of Shirley, asking for 
 the address of the leading member of the Smudge family 
 in that place. I waited for a reply. I waited two days 
 a week a fortnight a month, without evidence that the 
 
348 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 town clerk of Shirley was possessed of vitality. I wrote 
 again, and the return mail brought me this reply : 
 
 " When you addreae a town clerk, or any other man, on 
 business of personal interest to you alone, you had better 
 enclose postage stamps, for all mail matter must be pre 
 paid. Yours, respectfully, 
 
 " P. SMUDGE." 
 
 This was tart, but I saw by the signature I had waked 
 up one member of the family. I at once addressed him a 
 very friendly epistle, and enclosed him a sheet of postage 
 stamps, intimating to him that our correspondence might 
 be frequent. In a day or two I received a very brief note 
 from him, stating that he did not know who the leading 
 member of the Smudge family was. One was a town 
 pauper, two had long since lost all claims to respectability 
 by their love of the ardent, and he added, " I am the only 
 tax-payer by that name in this town, and hold the position 
 of town clerk ; if you wish any more information I can copy 
 from the records all that can be found concerning the family, 
 for which I shall charge twenty-five dollars." I concluded 
 to amputate the Shirley branch of the Genealogical Tree. 
 
 This dash of cold water rather retarded the growth of 
 the tree for a month or more ; but the idea of being an un 
 worthy member of the G. S. again stimulated me, and see 
 ing in the Coos County Republican that A. Smudge was a 
 dealer in groceries, I addressed him a letter, stating my 
 intention and soliciting his interest in the tree. I enclosed 
 postage stamps. His reply came in due course of time. 
 It was to the point, and read as follows : 
 
 "Yours came to hand all right, but I haven t got time 
 to bother my brain about my ancestors. It takes all my 
 time to feed six hungry little Smudges. It is a pity you 
 
MY FAMILY. 349 
 
 have such a quantity of idle time on your hands. You had 
 better study to make yourself useful. Be virtuous and 
 you will be happy. When your tree sprouts in our direc 
 tion, let me know." 
 
 I called that impertinent. But was I to be discouraged ? 
 No. I remembered what Mr. What s-his-name said to Thing- 
 embob about the impossibility of finding the word FAIL 
 in his dictionary, and without replying to his interrogato 
 ries, I waited for more light, resolved to give the tree a 
 fair start at the first favorable opportunitj . I bethought 
 me of the Press, and published, as a " feeler," a paragraph 
 in my favorite paper to the effect that Paul Smudge, Esq., 
 M. G. S., was about to trace back his lineage with the 
 view to a general meeting of the Smudge family at some 
 not far distant day, hoping that his fellow-citizens would 
 sympathize with him in his commendable undertaking, and 
 concluding, in the editor s own language, with the remark 
 that the name of Smudge had become especially endeared 
 to the community, in which it had got to be a household 
 word, associated with many deeds of worth and usefulness. 
 The compliment was agreeable, although I found some 
 short time thereafter that he had charged me half a dol 
 lar a line for it, which I paid without a murmur. The re 
 sult of the notice was, that letters began to come to me 
 from all directions from individuals named Smudge, or 
 those who had, by the accident of marriage, inherited any 
 of its blood; so many indeed, that I had to. hire a lock 
 box in the post-office, which was not large enough to hold 
 them. It was curious, too, how many laid claim to con 
 nection with the family on very small premises. There 
 were the Smuggs of Boneboro , and the Smutches of 
 Coalville, and the Smudgits of Hayfield, and the Smooges 
 of Frog Meadow, and Heaven knows what j and all sorts 
 
 30 
 
350 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 of questions were asked of me, pertinent and impertinent, 
 concerning my family history : Had I a female cousin that 
 married a Wiggin ? did my grandmother by my mother s 
 side have three or five husbands ? was my great uncle 
 hanged in Wales ? and if I had not a cousin in the battle 
 of Slievegamon ? I answered them all, of course. A man 
 came in one day, as I was waiting on a customer, and re 
 quested the loan of a few shillings on the ground that he 
 was one of my family, and gave his card to assure me of 
 the fact, which read " S. Mudge." I dismissed him, you 
 nay be assured, very summarily. I was annoyed for a 
 while by the boys, who used to twit each other, within my 
 .hearing as I passed them, with having no family. But I 
 was determined that my genealogical research should not 
 be retarded by coarse and unappreciative remark. 
 
 One result of my newspaper notice was a long and 
 bulky letter which I received from the venerable Professor 
 Smudge, of Mung Institute, Vermont, who in many pages 
 labored to give me light in my family research, but which 
 left me in gross darkness at the end. He had traced the 
 origin of the family as far back as the days of Abraham, 
 and thought that I might, by proper application, extend it 
 still farther, saying, however, that he thought it useless, as 
 probably none of the original Smudges would be present 
 at the contemplated gathering. 
 
 I answered this, delighted at having found one of kin 
 dred taste in genealogical matters, and our correspondence 
 grew voluminous. So proud was I of my distinguished 
 kinsman, that I resolved to attend the society meetings, 
 and read one of his letters before it. I signified my inten 
 tion at the next regular meeting, to the wonder of many 
 members as to who I was. I made great preparations to 
 do it and myself -justice. I read it aloud to my wife sev 
 eral times, and she by frequent nods assented to the points 
 
MY FAMILY. 351 
 
 made, though in some instances I fancied she grew somno 
 lent ; but, being a woman of many cares, I forgave the in 
 attention. I forgave her the more readily because the calls 
 upon my exchequer for postage had interfered materially 
 with her supplies, at which she had never complained. (I 
 must publish here, however, a qualification to the state 
 ment, that a woman failed to complain under such circum 
 stances, the fact that, finding her supplies curtailed, slier 
 went very quietly and got trusted for what she wanted, 
 leaving me thereafter to be surprised with many bills.) 
 The eventful moment came, when I was to make my debut, 
 my first appearance upon any stage before the august 
 society. My friend, the Rev. Mr. Blow, had told me that 
 to still the beating of my heart, which I found very turbu 
 lent, I must draw a long breath, and hold on a little be 
 fore taking another. He explained the philosophy of it 
 satisfactorily at the time, but though I tried it I couldn t 
 still the tumult within. As I passed up the narrow stairs 
 leading to the hall where the savants were assembled, be 
 fore whom I was to speak, my knees smote together, and 
 I was so weak that any one could have knocked me down 
 with a slung shot. I entered the room, however, with 
 some show of importance, not expecting applause, of 
 course, but some little curious attention, and was surprised 
 to find only the janitor present, and a venerable gentlemen 
 with an ear-trumpet, who brought it round to me as though 
 he expected I was going to put something into it. The 
 janitor introduced me, loudly, 
 
 " Mr. Smudge, this is the distinguished Dr. Grubb ; Dr. 
 Grubb, this is Mr. Smudge/ 7 
 
 "Mr. Fudge," said the distinguished gentleman, "I -am 
 glad to see you." 
 
 " Smudge, sir," I corrected him. 
 
 " What ? " he said, bringing the trumpet up under my 
 nose. 
 
352 PABTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 " Smudge ! " I yelled, in a tone that made the old gen 
 tleman start. 
 
 " Ah, yes/ said he ; and commenced turning over the 
 leaves of a copious manuscript before him. 
 
 Where was the crowd I had expected ? By and by 
 they began to come in, a few fussy-looking old men, 
 and then the president, looking very red, bustled in, about 
 an hour behind time, took his seat, and rapped smartly on 
 the table with his hammer. 
 
 " The first business before us," said he, " is the paper 
 from Dr. Grubb, upon the probable origin, rise, and fall of 
 the Simia race in Newfoundland." 
 
 Dr. Grubb shuffled together his papers, and commenced 
 to bore, continuing the process through a two hours effort, 
 which nobody heard, the audience indulging in unrestrict 
 ed conversation, in contempt of the trumpet which lay 
 upon the table. At its close, one who had talked the 
 loudest during its delivery made a motion that the venera 
 ble doctor be requested to have it published in some news 
 paper that might be induced to accept it, which was car 
 ried ; and the president called upon me by name " Paul 
 Smudge, Esq." 
 
 The members raised their eyes as I stood upon my feet, 
 and with assumed unconcern, proceeded to unfold the 
 manuscript of my respected relative. 
 
 " Mr. President," said a member, rising, " Mr. Spudge 
 will excuse me for interrupting him ; but, as the hour is 
 late, I will make a motion that the paper about to be sub 
 mitted to us be read by its title." 
 
 He smiled amiably upon me as he spoke, and for the life 
 of me I could not blame him after the infliction of Grubb s. 
 The president looked at me inquiringly ; I nodded, and 
 smiled back. The motion was put and carried, and I read 
 as follows : 
 
MY FAMILY. 353 
 
 " Some Particulars of the Family of Smudge, by Dio- 
 nysius Smudge, LL.D., Professor of Ethnology and the 
 Learned Sciences in Mung Institute, Vermont." 
 
 The meeting adjourned ; family pride succumbed to cir 
 cumstances, and 1 went home, to be questioned by Mrs. 
 Smudge, and dream of a genealogical tree as large as those 
 big trees in California. The next morning, taking up rny 
 paper, I was surprised to see an account of the doings of 
 the society the evening previous. " Large and enthusias 
 tic, 7 "highly respectable," "learned and refined," . . . 
 " among whom our neighbor Smudge, whose modesty has 
 too long kept him in the background, was conspicuous, 
 who read an eloquent and able paper upon the ancient 
 family lie represents, which sparkled with wit, that grace 
 fully embellished the sound philosophy and profound re 
 search of the production, the fine delivery of which elicited 
 unbounded applause. Among those most delighted was 
 the venerable Dr. Grubb, who waived the reading of an 
 interesting paper of his own to accommodate his young 
 friend." 
 
 Could I be dreaming ? and did I really " speak my 
 piece?" were questions I asked myself; but the editor 
 was a truthful man, and would not deceive the world; 
 therefore I let the world believe it. I received many com 
 pliments on my success, and the same week had twenty 
 invitations to address kindred societies in different parts 
 of the country, which I declined. 
 
 My family ambition increased. I nearly gave up busi 
 ness in order to answer my letters. I relinquished all in 
 terest in the great family of the world to look after my 
 individual portion of it. On my return home one evening, 
 after a hard day s work, I found Mrs. Smudge in a state of 
 undue excitement. At first I could not tell whether she were 
 most disposed to laugh or cry. There was no anger in her 
 30* 
 
354 PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 look, but it seemed as if mortification were struggling with 
 merriment in her .mind. She pointed to my reception- 
 room. As I entered it, my e} r es rested upo"n a most singu 
 lar figure. It was that of a man of sixty, in a dress that 
 dated at least forty years back short-waisted coat, high 
 collar, long skirts, puckered shoulders, brass buttons ; long 
 red vest, with glass buttons, single-breasted ; pants tight, 
 terminating just below the calf, gathered on the hips ; 
 blue woollen stpckings ; large, peaked-toed shoes. He 
 held a hat in his hand, very tall, approaching the steeple- 
 shape, very seedy, with evident marks of ink, put on to 
 hide the brown spots. 
 
 " Good evening, sir," the figure said, smiling, and extend 
 ing a large and bony hand to me, which I took instinc 
 tively. " You may not," he continued, " guess who I am 
 that thus intrudes upon you ; but I ana your relative, of 
 Mung Institute." 
 
 " The deuse you are ! " thought I ; but changed the form 
 of the reply to, " Glad to see you " a lie so frequently 
 uttered, and by so many, that the virtue of it is all lost. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I thought you would be ; and so I 
 have improved my vacation season, and come down here 
 to aid you in your researches into our family history. We 
 must devote a month to it. That box you see there " 
 pointing to a chest about three by six " is full of papers 
 relating to the subject, which I shall be delighted to read 
 you. Is smoking offensive to you ? " taking a pipe from 
 his pocket, and lighting a match on the sole of his shoe. 
 I told him no, another lie, and in a moment more 
 the smoke ascended as a sacrifice upon the altar of my 
 Penates, much to my wife s merriment and disgust, as she 
 stood looking at us through the crack in the door. 
 
 My respected relative staid his month out, read all his 
 papers, smoked all his tobacco, and then went back to 
 Vermont, satisfied that he had conferred infinite benefit 
 
DEUMMING. 355 
 
 upon me, while I entertained the opinion that a more in 
 fernal bore I had never seen than my relative ; that to em 
 ploy him, Artesian wells might be made very plenty in 
 Vermont ; and that, if the tracing of blood subjected one 
 to such annoyances, it were better to be nobody, with no 
 more attainment of notoriety than the mere mention of an 
 obituary at the end. 
 
 The gathering of the Smudge family never took place, 
 and the world lost thereby much eloquence, and poetrjr, 
 and wit ; and the Genealogical Society lost a member, 
 who felt that he had not sufficient heart in the work to 
 bear him on triumphantly over the sea of troubles that 
 lay in his path in establishing the fact that he had a family, 
 leaving that to prove itself in the family record and the 
 registry of marriages and births. 
 
 DRUMMING. 
 
 EVERYBODY knows that mercantile drumming is prac 
 tised in Boston, as well as in other places. The perform 
 ers will hang around the hotels for customers, and drum 
 like partridges to secure their prey. The caution of 
 traders is excited by a knowledge of their tricks, who 
 either go in to enjoy the music, or meet the advances of 
 the drummers with a little counter performance of their 
 own. The former course was pursued by a merchant from 
 the West, who came to Boston recently for the first time. 
 He had heard of the drummers, and of their attention to 
 visitors, showing them the lions about their respective 
 places, and treating them like princes, and being en 
 dowed with a considerable capacity for a good time, and 
 with not much power of resistance, he thought he would, 
 
356 PAETINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 if he fell in with any, let them have their own way. lie 
 accordingly came, and stopped at the American House, 
 where his jolly face and laughing eyes were soon conspic 
 uous. Several well-dressed young men at once attached 
 themselves to him, and commenced talking about the 
 West. " Drummers," thought the merchant ; " not a doubt 
 about it." 
 
 They were soon very well acquainted, and sipped a glass 
 of wine together, or something stronger, as an oblation to 
 the new bond between them. The stranger was surprised 
 to hear from them no mention of business, and, after 
 warming up a little with sundry more libations, he deter 
 mined to touch upon trade. 
 
 " How are Hamiltons now ? " said he, breaking the ice 
 by a direct push. 
 
 " Hamiltons ! " replied one. " Oh ! Hamiltons are tip-top 
 ain t they, Bob ? " 
 
 " They were the last time I saw them," responded Bob. 
 
 They all laughed at this, in which the questioner joined, 
 though he could not, for the soul of him, see what they 
 were laughing at. 
 
 " They think I m a little green," thought he; "but let 
 them go it. They ll come to business soon enough, I dare 
 say." 
 
 " How are Amoskeags going? " he asked, after a while. 
 
 " Well," was the reply, " I saw Amos last week, and 
 he looked as if he was going to the devil very fast 
 didn t he, Bob ? " 
 
 Bob affirmed, with an expression considerably emphatic, 
 that he never saw one going faster. 
 
 " Speaking of going," said the principal spokesman, 
 t( suppose we show you our town. I should like to have 
 you see some of our lions." 
 
 It was beyond the business part of the day, and no ob 
 jection was made ; so the party sallied out, the merchant 
 
DRUMMING. 357 
 
 making the remark that it would be time enough in the 
 morning to look at the Hamiltons. It was a hard season 
 of sprouts that the accommodating drummers put him 
 through. He had never seen better fellows in his life ; but 
 they were very mysterious for business men. Several 
 times in the course of their ramble he ventured to put in 
 some word about cottons ; but they, with a^ laugh that he 
 joined in, asked him how whiskey was going at the West, 
 and when he said the tendency was downward, they 
 laughed the louder. He mentioned shoes ; but he found 
 that this also was bootless. At last he let the boys have 
 their own way, and shut his mind against business, going 
 in for the fun of the thing. The day closed in a very af 
 fectionate manner, the parties separating about midnight, 
 mutually satisfied. 
 
 As for the drummers, they carried their mysterious man 
 ner throughout, and to his last remark about Hamiltons, as 
 they bade him good night, a reply was made that to his 
 confused hearing sounded somewhat like " Pickles ! " 
 
 "Good fellows!" he thought. "They ll be round in 
 the morning, I dare say." 
 
 Turning to the man in the office, he asked him what 
 house those gentlemen who had been with him drummed for. 
 
 " Drum for ? " replied the clerk, in a tone of surprise. 
 
 " Yes, drum for," said the inquirer, a little indignant at 
 having his question repeated. 
 
 "They are not drummers," replied the clerk, bowing 
 politely, " but students of Harvard College." 
 
 " The deuse they are ! " exclaimed the seeker after 
 Hamiltons and Amoskeags. " Then I ve been confound 
 edly sold that s all." 
 
 He booked himself to be called early, and the next 
 morning started for New York without making a purchase, 
 not caring to meet again with his friends, the drummers. 
 
358 PAETINGTONIAN PATCIIWOEK. 
 
 PREACHING TO THE POOR. 
 
 Father Taylor once said, " Tis of no use to preach to empty 
 
 stomachs." 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE parson preached in solemn way, 
 
 A well-clad man on ample pay, 
 
 And told the poor they were sinners all, 
 
 Depraved and lost by Adam s fall ; 
 
 That they must repent, and save their souls. 
 
 A hollow-eyed wretch cried, " Give us coals ! " 
 
 Then he told of virtue s pleasant path, 
 
 And that of ruin and of wrath ; 
 
 How the slipping feet of sinners fell 
 
 Quick on the downward road to h , 
 
 To suffer for sins when they are dead ; 
 
 And the hollow voice answered, " Give us bread I " 
 
 Then he spoke of a land of love and peace, 
 
 Where all of pain and woe shall cease, 
 
 Where celestial flowers bloom by the way, 
 
 Where the light is brighter than solar day, 
 
 And there s no cold nor hunger there. 
 
 " Oh," says the voice, " Give us clothes to wear ! " 
 
 Then the good man sighed, and turned away, 
 
 For such depravity to pray, 
 
 That had cast aside the heavenly worth 
 
 For the transient and fleeting things of earth ! 
 
 And his church that night, to his content, 
 
 liaised his salary fifty per cent. 
 
THE COURTS. 359 
 
 THE COURTS. 
 
 THE courts are great institutions. We always take our 
 hats off in a court-room, partly from reverence for the law, 
 partly from respect for the custom of the place, and partly 
 from fear of having it knocked from our own poll by the 
 pole of a constable. What a dignity awful and sub 
 lime seems embodied in the justice who figures in the 
 reports as the alphabetical and familiar " J." We hear 
 him addressed " yer honor/ 7 and the spirit prostrates itself 
 before the exponent of stern justice, while fancy draws an 
 imaginary sword and a pair of huge scales in his hand 
 the latter of which are to be used in weighing the exactest 
 awards, and the former to cut off from the side on which 
 the surplusage remains, as a butcher would divide a piece 
 of beef, or a grocer divide a cheese. We cannot divest* 
 ourselves of the idea that we have seen his honor eating 
 a hearty dinner at Parker s, laughing like he d die at a 
 funny joke, and telling many himself with infinite gusto ; 
 " dipping his nose in the Gascon wine " with stupendous 
 relish, as though he were an excellent judge of such 
 things. The judicial ermine becomes in the light of 
 reality a genteel black coat, and the conventional sword 
 and scales fade away like mystic things- seen in dreams. 
 What a subject for contemplation is the jury that "pal 
 ladium of our liberty," as some one has called it which 
 stands between the law and trembling rascality, in digni 
 fied impartiality to listen to the evidence, the pleadings, 
 and the charge, and remember enough of the combined 
 stupidity, if they are capable of remembering it, to say 
 which side shall win. 
 
SCO PARTINGTONIAN PATCHWORK. 
 
 We love to look upon those devoted conscripts of the 
 state with their minds made up to one . point before they 
 begin, that they are bored. The sheriff s wand and the 
 sword, that fearful implement, ready to impale any one 
 who may transgress, are fearful things to contemplate, and 
 we turn to listen to the oath so solemnly administered to 
 the trembling witnesses, who hold up their right hands and 
 bow when the sound of the clerk s voice has ceased, just 
 as if they had understood what he said. But a sublime 
 spectacle to be met with in court is the examination of 
 witnesses in order to arrive at the truth of a case. Had 
 this not been so faithfully described in the report of the 
 case of Bardell vs. Pickwick, it would be well to speak of 
 it at this time. Of course every one who goes on the stand 
 is a conspirator on one side or the other, and is disposed 
 so great is the depravity of the human heart to lie ; 
 hence it is necessary for counsellors, who are dear lovers 
 of the truth, to browbeat and harass them by a thousand 
 impertinent questions, in order to worry the scoundrels 
 into truthfulness by making what they say sound as little 
 like the truth as. possible. A man goes upon the stand 
 with an idea that he is, like Hamlet, indifferent honest ; 
 but leaves it with a strong impression that he combines in 
 himself the qualities of all the great liars that ever lived, 
 from Ananias to Munch ausen, has robbed a graveyard, 
 passed counterfeit money, spent ten years in state prison, 
 and deserves to go there again. Great is Justice, and her 
 courts are sacred. We take our shoes off, figuratively, in 
 reverence, and move out, shutting the door quickly, lest 
 any of the atmosphere of the precinct be displaced by the 
 obtrusion of unsanctified air. 
 
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