DASHES 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICAN HUMOR 
 
 BY 
 
 HOWARD PAUL. 
 
 All astral eft fig Jci'ti HeecJ) 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 GARRETT & CO., 18 ANN-STREET. 
 
 1853. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, 
 
 By GARRETT & CO., 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for I he 
 Southern District of New-York. 
 
 Holm an, Gray & Cp., Printers, 
 New-York. 
 
TO 
 
 JOSHUA SILSBEE, ESQ., 
 
 (COMEDIAN,) 
 
 WITH WHOM I HAVE PASSED MANY PLEASANT HOURS 
 IN EUROPE AND AMERICA, 
 
 £Ms Volume fs (nscvf beto, 
 
 BY HIS FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR A PREFACE. 
 
 " Prologues precede the play in mournful vertie, 
 As undertakers walk before the hearse," 
 
 said Garrick, in an effusion delivered before the performance of 
 " The Apprentice;" and Prefaces seem to be a dismal, wretched inven- 
 tion, intended to garnish the outskirts of books, but which truly are of 
 little service, as they are rarely read, except by a class of weak, excel- 
 lent people, who conceive it to be their duty towards an author to read 
 every word written, from the title-page to the farewell sentence that dis- 
 misses the work. 
 
 Bien, but my American publishers, availing themselves of the fact that 
 I am in Yankee-doodle-dom, send me a bland, business-like note, asking 
 me to write a preface — a new preface — as they do not care to be content 
 with the one that Mr. Buckstone, the eminent dramatist, was good 
 enough to write for the London edition. Now, if I were to write just 
 such remarks as my'candor and disapprobation would suggest, the afore- 
 said " weak, excellent people" would pronounce me ill-natured, uncon- 
 ventional, if not positively rude. 
 
 The fact is, I simply look on a preface to a fugitive book as — a bore. If 
 an author has a large amount of vanity in his composition, and wishes to 
 get rid of it, I should say the preface would be the proper place to intro- 
 duce it, as it would there come least under the notice of his patrons. 
 
 There is a story told of a certain man grown conscientious, who had 
 
VI AN APOLOGY FOE A FREFACE. 
 
 committed a robbery — a literary one— and he entertained secret convic- 
 tions that he ought to confess the appropriation to the virtuous public. 
 He wrote another volume, and then cast about him as to which would be 
 the safest part of it to deposit the confession. Unfortunately, he choso 
 the preface ; and he afterwards complained that only two people had 
 discovered in ten years the story of his own guilt. Who after this will 
 Bay that prefaces are read — I will go a step beyond — worth writing ' 
 
 If one were disposed, an aquatic simile might be drawn in defence of 
 the objection. We determine upon bathing, and provide ourselves with 
 the agreeable concomitants thereof. We start towards the water ; and the 
 proper way is, not to put one toe in the element, then a hand, and so 
 on by timid instalments — by no means ; jump in and get out of your 
 pains ! So with a, book ; why saunter doubtingly on the margin of your 
 theme? Settle on a motive, select your subject, and jump in ! It is by 
 far the better plan, and the public will like you just as well. 
 
 But, in deprecating the custom, I have written just sufficient matter 
 to answer my publishers' purpose. The offence must rest on their shoul- 
 ders, not on mine. 
 
 In conclusion, I cannot refrain from thanking the London press for the 
 kind, amiable notices they honored the English edition with ; and Mr. 
 John Leech, the distinguished artist, whose contributions to " Punch" 
 have been enjoyed all over the world, did more for the volume, I fear, 
 than the public's most obedient servant, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 New-York, October. 1853. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I PAGE 
 
 13 a " napoleon" worth a sou 1 1 
 
 old dan of connecticut river, 15 
 
 jonathan homebred, 35 
 
 Jonathan's adventure at regent's park, . . . . 44 
 Jonathan's donkey ride on hampstead heath, . . 49 
 
 snow scenes, , 60 
 
 looking up lodgings, 68 
 
 never sleep with your pantaloons under your pillow, . 79 
 
 paragraphs about peaches, 93 
 
 "picturesque drinkables," 107 
 
 what came of a ruffled shirt, 115 
 
 christmas pantomimes, 142 
 
 the unfortunate want of priority, 152 
 
 that mysterious bandbox, 159 
 
 holiday times, 168 
 
 steamboat excursions by moonlight, 177 
 
 jonathan at the opera, 183 
 
 jedediah doughkins, ........ 188 
 
 fourth of july in the united states, .... 199 
 
 scraps of nautical nonsense, 213 
 
 the american firemen, 228 
 
vm 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES, 237 
 
 YANKEE INQUISITIVENESS, 251 
 
 A YANKEE IN THE GOLD REGION, 254 
 
 A STORY WITH MORE OR LESS SPICE IN IT, . . . . 264 
 
 AN OHIO WEDDING, 270 
 
 EGOTISM'S LAST SHIFT, 279 
 
 AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 285 
 
 COLONEL CRICKLEY'S HORSE, 302 
 
DASHES 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 IS A "NAPOLEON WORTH A SOU? 
 
 "We have a horror of loneliness ; or, to speak less strongly, we 
 prefer society to solitude, unless it be when the " moon-tints of 
 purple and pearl" are very beautiful indeed ; and then, on second 
 thoughts, it would be more agreeable to share the witchery of 
 the view in the companionship of some " loved one," whose 
 spirit-pulses beat in unison with your own. Solitude does very 
 well for philosophers and musty-crusty old cynics of the Dio- 
 genes kindred ; but there is a charm and sympathy about good 
 society which captivates our taste, though " Socialist-Politico" 
 we are none. Give us the merry, free-hearted, unrestrained 
 spirit of domestic interchange any time, to the ashen, sober, bu- 
 ried-alive conventionalism of hermited exclusiveness. Some 
 queer fellow — possibly Beranger's " Gentleman in Brown" — 
 has argued that those who do not love to be alone, in order to 
 look into their hearts, have no hearts to look into ; but this is 
 the sophistry of sentiment, as some of the sincerest, kindest, 
 most agreeable people we have ever met, were those who inclin- 
 ed towards the conviviality of congenial society. Your very 
 retired, closeted people, who inclose themselves from year to year, 
 grow politic, and, as such, are to be feared. That lean-visaged, 
 
2 ,' •." DASIiSS -Or' 'AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 colouring: ^liiv^irg.mciD youuei:, ba : s not half the sunshine oi 
 soul as his neighbour of the ruddy cheek and genial smile, and 
 yet their intellects are equal. One, with selfish heart, moulders 
 in the four walls of his cheerless home ; while the other expands 
 his mind by free intercourse with his fellow-man, and, by so ^oing, 
 benefits not only himself, but others, by the value of his own 
 communicated experience. Next to this selfishness of solitude, 
 we pity a large class of people that seem to be yearly increasing; 
 we mean those externally politic persons who do not make a 
 solitary move in the great game of life, unless it redounds, di- 
 rectly or indirectly, to their own personal advancement. We do 
 not mean to urge that all of what the world calls policy should 
 be discarded and thrown aside. By no means. A certain quan- 
 tity enters into the elements of prudence ; but the more we see 
 of the human family the more numerous we find these strangers 
 to disinterested goodness, who fawn and cringe to power, and 
 neglect, ay, insult merit, that has not, by the force of time and 
 experience, yet been able to mount its proper pedestal. 
 
 But merely mentioning the met that we are no friend of soli- 
 tude, has led us into a train of thought, which, when our fingers 
 clasped the quill, we had no idea of expressing. "We are about 
 to relate an anecdote that fell under our notice in Paris, or ra- 
 ther, we should say, an adventure, as we were a party interested. 
 On our first visit to the gay capital of the French we were 
 quite companionless, and the prospect of strolling over the cu- 
 rious city solus, with no friend to share the wild but'languidly- 
 pleasing impressions of the strange sights that we everywhere 
 encountered, was anything but cheering. "We strolled up and 
 down the Boulevards, admired the shop-windows, looked after 
 the flower-girls, listened to the harpists, wondered at the num- 
 bers of gend'armes, gazed at the nuns, and visited the hundreds 
 of objects of interest; but yet we experienced the oppressive- 
 ness of estrangement from all friends or companions. When 
 we wandered through the elaborate halls of the Louvre, for ex- 
 %mple, we wanted to say a thousand things about the gorgeous 
 
IS a "napoleon" worth a sou? 3 
 
 works of art that silently, but magnificently, shone resplendent 
 in artistic beauty from every wall. We went to Pere la Chaise, 
 and saw the tombs of Abelard and Heloise, Bellini, David, 
 Marshal Ney, Talma, and a host of others of undying fame and 
 greatness. The serenity and mournful character of this spot 
 were favourable to the quiet thoughtfulness of solitude ; and 
 when we saw piles of massive marble reflecting back the light, 
 over the graves of men whose only claim to notice was wealth, 
 while there was scarce a stone to mark the remains of the brave 
 and gallant Ney, an impulse stole over us that led us to exclaim, 
 with Byron, 
 
 " obscurity and fame 
 
 The glory and the nothing of a name." 
 
 As it is our custom, when we travel, to carry a note-book, we 
 found a species of melancholy pleasure in transcribing the 
 inscriptions from various monuments, of men who had distin- 
 guished themselves for learning, chivalry, or high attainment in 
 art ; and while copying a curious couplet from a quaint, defaced, 
 old-fashioned stone, in a far-off corner of the cemetery, our sur- 
 prise was considerably awakened by receiving a familiar, and 
 almost recognizable touch on the shoulder from some one behind. 
 We were bending on one knee, in order to decipher the singular 
 lines, and could not see who had thus suddenly come upon us, 
 but, raising on foot, discovered, much to our delight, an old (or 
 rather a young) friend and countryman, a brave, merry-hearted, 
 excellent youngster, who, like ourself, we discovered had come 
 to Paris in quest of amusement, and to take back all the inform- 
 ation that he could consistently cram into his noddle. Our 
 accidental meeting was as warm as it was casual ; and as he also 
 had arrived in the city quite alone, the renewed companionship 
 promised well, and acceptable on either side. We quitted the 
 " city of the dead," and taking an omnibus soon found ourselves 
 in the neighbourhood of the Palais lloyal, at a restaurant, in 
 which we dined well and deliberately, enjoying staccato, 
 an exhilarating chat about our impressions, and other 
 
4 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 et cceteras, which strange objects in a strange country are apt to 
 suggest. 
 
 Our lodgment was in a neat, retired little dwelling-house, on 
 the Rue Richelieu, just off the Boulevard Italiens, and in the 
 immediate proximity to the celebrated Hotel do Paris, a prom- 
 inent locality for young Americans. After the arrival of our 
 friend it was almost our daily habit to drop in at the court- 
 yard of this hotel to see if any friends had left the smoke of 
 London for the more balmy sunshine of Paris; and then the 
 femme de charge, who was a little Swiss specimen of feminine 
 plumptitude, had such a bewitching dimple in her chin, and 
 talked English with such an unconsciously fascinating accent, 
 that the Hotel de Paris seemed to possess an interest wholly 
 uncommon. A week had not elapsed, when one day, as wo 
 were lounging in the vestibule, where Lolette had been show- 
 ing us a roll of dainty taffetas and a box of cheap bijoux (which 
 an ardent admirer had sent her, accompanied by an intensely 
 sentimental billet, the day before), a stylish coupe drove into 
 the court-yard, from which descended three young gentlemen, 
 all dressed scrupulously in white, with Ascot caps, and blue 
 ribbons in their vests. We knew them at once. They were 
 medical students from Virginia, living in Paris, but who wero 
 temporarily residing, during the warm weather, in the neighbor- 
 hood of Chantilly, at a chaumiere, in the very midst of pinks 
 and corn-roses. They had adopted the uniform costume of 
 white from an eccentric whim of their own creation ; and the 
 blue ribbons were emblematic of a triangular friendship they 
 had formed, into the composition of which entered sundry re- 
 mote medical bearings and masonic allusions which we were not 
 given clearly to understand. This we subsequently learned, of 
 course ; and having gone poking and sauntering about the gay 
 city unattended — save when we had a guide — it was indeed 
 refreshing to meet with such a picked squad of jolly acquaint- 
 ances, If the whole continent of America had been scoured from 
 
IS A "NAPOLEON'' WORTH A SOU { 5 
 
 an edge of Lake Ponchertrain — taking that odd locality as a 
 point, and going any way — north, south, east, or west — we 
 doubt if a trio of more dashing, urbane young men could have 
 been brought together. Although pursuing their professional 
 studies in Paris, they had, at this particular period, thrown 
 physic to the " bow-wows," as Mantilini says, and were now 
 enjoying a pleasant relaxation of ease in the most approved man- 
 ner. Dividing the time between their cottage and the cafes in 
 town, dining here and supping there, just as the circumstances 
 of the case suggested hour and locality, the time passed rapidly 
 and with feathered feet. The young men of Virginia always 
 conciliated our partiality ; for, besides being well-bred and full 
 of spirit, their unaffectedness of manner, and frank, manly sym- 
 pathy, scarcely fail to win for them respect and attachment. 
 Keenly alive to insult, they are equally affected by hospitality, 
 and though some of the scions of the " Old Dominion" have got 
 the reputation of being too " hot-blooded," yet, in the long run, 
 their kindness of heart and uniform courtesy neutralize all that 
 can be argued in respect to warmth of temperament. 
 
 No longer had we occasion to complain of solitude ; for what 
 between the last arrival, and our friend who had so unexpected- 
 ly and romantically found us among the sepulchres, we were 
 now enjoying a wealth of companionship. Our natal homes be- 
 ing the same, there was a current of fraternal sympathy perva- 
 ding our sentiments, to which our hearts mutually bowed. That 
 we were correspondingly fond of adventure and amusement 
 there could exist no doubt after an hour's communication, and 
 in a body we strolled through the city, actuated by the same 
 desires and pursuing similar ends. That night, at parting, it was 
 agreed that our friend and self should take an early ride the 
 next morning, and breakfast at Chantilly. Accordingly we 
 were up with the singing birds, and having ordered a brace of 
 fine steeds the night before, while the dew was yet gleaming in 
 the early sunshine, we set out at a pleasant pace, and reached 
 the cottage just as coffee was about to come upon the table. Our 
 
6 DASHES OP AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 friends were lounging about the room in Cashmere robes and 
 embroidered slippers. An easel, on which the outline of a 
 landscape was mounted, an old violin, and a cribbage board, 
 indicated the manner in which our southern friends passed their 
 leisure ; and these et ccetcras, with a moderate appointment of 
 ornamental tables, buffet, chimney-glass, with a vase or two, and 
 several choice French prints of saucy arch-look ing dames, in 
 low-necked dresses, constituted the furniture of the apartment. 
 Our morning ride had provoked an excellent appetite, and gave 
 us a keen relish for a charmingly prepared fricascc ) and afresh- 
 laid egg. The cafe, too, was unexceptionable ; and the rolls, 
 long as one's arm, warm from the oven, now well buttered, 
 were indeed morsels for Apicius. 
 
 At breakfast, the conversation turned on the credulity and 
 incredulity of various nations. One of the southern boys in- 
 sisted that an Englishman would believe white was black, if it 
 was only proved to his satisfaction (a tolerably safe argument), 
 and then gave the Americans credit for a trait of short-sighted- 
 ness and credulity that quite startled us all. 
 
 " How about the French ?" we asked. 
 
 " Not half as bad," pursued our friend — we will call liim 
 George, for the sake of a name. " A Frenchman, with his char- 
 acteristic flightiness, if he ever stops to consider, does so when 
 something marvellous is about to be thrust down his throat, 
 His perception here is wonderfully acute. Somebody once, in 
 Yankee Land, fixed the tail of a fish to the head of a monkey, 
 and christened it a mermaid. Don't you remember it ? The 
 bait took, and people were gulled by thousands. If the expe- 
 riment had been tried in France it would have met with a very 
 different reception. One gend'arme would have seized Mr. 
 Monkey's head, and another the tail, and then of course the 
 pleasant delusion would have dropped to pieces. I'll warrant 
 the moon-hoax didn't affect France, although it set we Yankees 
 and the English in a most celestial twitter. No, no ; in my 
 humble opinion,, the French are too ingenious themselves 
 
IS A "NArOLEON" WORTH A SOU? 7 
 
 to be easily deceived, except in — yes, I think I will except 
 politics." 
 
 Our first-found friend — we will call him Tom — assumed the 
 antipodes of this expression, by taking opposite ground. He was 
 willing to grant that the Americans gloried in their Barnum, 
 and thus winked at humbug. He admitted that England went 
 into extacies about a foreign pair of legs at the G-rand Ballet, 
 when a native pair, just as well developed and twinkling, were 
 suffered to go uncovered — with commendation, and unacknowl- 
 edged in point of merit. He conceded that a plaster-of-Paris 
 maker of images, provided that he had a heavy moustache, went 
 further among the Saxons than a sculptor in marble, unadorn- 
 ed with a hirsute physiognomy. 
 
 " But I'll tell you," said he, drawing a napkin slowly over his 
 lips, " these are national prejudices, based on false education. 
 It was only the other day that I read in a French paper of a 
 certain antediluvian animal that has been exhibited at an ana- 
 tomical museum somewhere in Paris, with which the savans and 
 long-heads were in raptures. Confusion to their dreams of lore, 
 however ; for it has recently leaked out that the startling crea- 
 ture was nothing more nor less than a framework of the bones 
 of various defunct animals, ingeniously knitted into grotesque 
 shape." 
 
 " Hang it!" exclaimed George, opening his eyes very wide, 
 and sipping his coffee, " I was sold myself by that beast. In 
 fact I had made up my mind to write a learned treatise, to prove 
 that it had lived on the mountains before Noah's ark was 
 launched. Well ! that is French swindle No. 1 , most emphati- 
 cally." 
 
 " That's not all, by great lengths," continued Tom, dryly. 
 " Tell me where quackery reigns so potently as here ; every 
 other man or woman has an amulet to drive away pestilence ,* 
 every wall is covered with stencilled falsehoods, to deceive the 
 ignorant and unwary. Galen and Hippocrates would blush to 
 read the promises of these — " 
 
8 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Pardon my interruption," said George, " but did either 
 Galen or Hippocrates understand French? Remember the 
 Norman does'nt date so far back." 
 
 " Whether they could or not is a matter of little consequence 
 now," pursued Tom, in the best possible good humor. " But 
 the thriving state of quackery in France speakes volumes for 
 the morbid weakmindedness of the great masses. Why, I 
 believe if a fellow would cry ' Here's Napoleons for a sou each !' 
 and let the Napoleons be rank brass worth two centimes, in the 
 streets of Paris, he could make his fortune in a year, provided 
 the police did not debar the traffic." 
 
 " And seriously, you think the French are such dolts ?" 
 inquired George, with a doubting expression. 
 
 " I do, indeed," replied Tom. 
 
 " I think you're wrong !" 
 
 " I've no doubt you do, and I think I'm right." 
 
 " Well, we can put this argument to the test; and if you like 
 I will lay you a wager." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Why, I'll bet sixty francs to a like sum that I'll stand on 
 the Pont de la Concord after noontide, and cry ' Here's real 
 Napoleons going for a sou P and that within an hour I don't 
 sell three ; and what is more, in order to carry out the thing 
 fairly, the Napoleons shall be real — the pure stuff." 
 
 " Done ; I'll take it I" exclaimed Tom. " But I say, this is 
 rather a novel way of rendering a huge per centage on small pur- 
 chases. You'll sell three in five minutes, depend on't." 
 
 " I'll risk it. Up goes my sixty francs, cover it, and remem- 
 ber thus run the conditions of the wager : If I sell within one 
 hour three Napoleons for one sou each, you win ; if not, I da 
 Is that plain ?" 
 
 « Perfectly ; and the locality shall be — ?" asked Tom. 
 
 " I think the Pont de la Concord is a central and much fre- 
 quented point ; but if you like, we'll say in front of the Opera 
 
IS A. "NAPOLEON " WORTH A SOU? 9 
 
 Coniique, or the Place de la Bourse, or the Bridge of the Inva- 
 lides ; where you will ?" 
 
 " The Pont de la Concord, let it be," agreed Tom. 
 
 " Good !" 
 
 " The hour shall be— I" 
 
 " Between twelve and one." 
 
 " And you will undertake to cry them for sale ?" 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 Tom drew forth his purse and " planked." 
 
 " Of course we are to witness the transaction," he inquired, 
 winking at us askance. " Fair play and no gouging." 
 
 " "Witness it — most surely. It will be rare sport to see me 
 walking up and down the bridge like a Jew pedler," remarked 
 George. 
 
 " The people will swear you're crazy." 
 
 " Let them think what they like, so I prove my position." 
 
 " They'll laugh at you," said Tom, leeringly. 
 
 " Let those laugh who win," philosophized G eorge, with a 
 stoicism we did not think entered into his composition. 
 
 " Then it's all clearly understood and agreed upon, eh?" ask- 
 ed one of the party, gathering up the stakes quietly, and depos- 
 iting them in his pocket. 
 
 " It'll never do for me to appear in my usual dress," said 
 George. u We'll try this experiment this very day. If I could 
 only manage to rake up an old pair of trowsers, a < shocking 
 bad' hat, and a well-worn vest, I could make up splendidly." 
 
 " Allow me to offer a suggestion. What's fair for you is also 
 fair for me. You are sanguine, so give me a chance," said Tom. 
 " What I was going to suggest is, if you disguise yourself to 
 look like an outcast, why then of course everybody will fore- 
 bear, if its just from your wretched appearance. No, do it in 
 this way. Assume some other dress, but let it be atieast semi- 
 respectable. Besides, if the police were to find a shabby, forlorn 
 fellow with three Napoleons in his possession, they would nab 
 you to a certainty." 
 
10 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 "But you folks would be about, to set matters right," 
 remarked George. " This is somewhat a bold task, and might 
 lead to trouble if unexplained." 
 
 At last it was settled that George should wear a very respect- 
 able beaver to begin with ; a coat somewhat ditto, and trowsers, 
 boots and waistcoat, so-so-ish. The boys everhauled their trunks, 
 and a selection of costume was made, in which our hero was 
 quickly invested ; and without stopping, at this visit, to look at 
 the beautiful flowers and walks about the charming little villa, 
 we all hurried off to Paris. 
 
 It was quite half-past eleven when we reached the Madeleine, 
 opposite which, previous to commencing operations, we " ad- 
 journed" to enjoy a private soda-fountain by way of refresh- 
 ment. The church of St. Roche chimed twelve, and hastily cross- 
 ing the square, and scenting the light mist from the beautiful 
 fountains of the Concorde, we gained the bridge. George had 
 his gold pieces all ready, and planting himself in a conspicuous 
 position, with his back to the parapet (he spoke French with a 
 fluently correct accent), and with a well-expressed sincerity of 
 countenance, cried: — 
 
 " Who'll give a sou for a real Napoleon ?" 
 
 We were scattered about promiscuously, in order not to bo 
 supposed interested in the proceeding. We looked over the 
 bridge carelessly, and watched the sunbeams shimmering on the 
 bright waters of the Seine; our friend Tom, who was more 
 directly interested than any of us, lounged as near George as 
 prudence would permit, in order to stir him up if necessary, 
 and the remaining two mingled in the passing throng, and by 
 admirable tact managed to be " about" a good portion of the 
 time. The trial was to extend for one hour, it will be remem- 
 bered. George again cried in a loud clear voice — 
 
 " Who'll give a sou for a real Napoleon ?" 
 
 As his voice died away over the Pont, we were strikingly 
 reminded of the similarity of the cry of the magician in " Al- 
 
IS A " NAPOLEON U WORTH A SOU ? 11 
 
 ladin," who wished to exchange new lamps for old ones. It 
 then occurred to us, as we idly watched the glassy curls of the 
 water beneath, whether there was any possible hope of anything 
 as strange coming out of this adventure as befell our friend of 
 the fairy legend. For a moment our fanciful imagination got 
 the better of us, and while we were pursuing the magic thread 
 of a whole palace-full of pretty thoughts, in which George had, 
 by the wand of a wierd enchanter, been converted into an 
 Eastern prince, and had just mounted a great golden staircase, 
 we were all at once brought to a sense of our actual condition 
 by some one saying behind us — 
 
 " Take care, young man ! you'll fall over." 
 
 These words shattered the spell with the swiftness of thought, 
 and again our attention was directed to our friend George, 
 crying (only he expressed it in French) — 
 
 " Here's a real Napoleon for a sou. Who'll have one ?" 
 
 The tide of life flowed on either side of the bridge. Crowds 
 of people walked, strolled, sauntered, and hurried by, as the 
 case might be. Some took no notice of his cry ; others stared 
 at him, and said to their companions, " He must think us fools ;" 
 while a group of loungers, among whom were several soldiers 
 and children, gathered about him, and listening for a few mo- 
 ments, and making a hundred idle remarks, passed on incredu- 
 lous. 
 
 We looked at our watch, and found that half an hour had 
 elapsed, and yet no purchasers. At least three thousand peo- 
 ple had passed our friend, and out of those three thousand no 
 one believed the truth — that they could have purchased a gold 
 piece of the value of twenty francs for one copper sou. Things 
 were looking hideously dark for Tom ; one by one, his sixty 
 francs were passing from his own pocket into that of his rival 
 opinionater, at the rate of just one per minute. We glanced 
 towards Tom, and he seemed uneasy. Passing George, he said 
 to him pointedly — 
 
12 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Thunder ! I'm flat beaten if you don't change your position. 
 Test it thoroughly. Walk about, and shout a little !" 
 
 George, with a most imperturbable face, relinquished his stand, 
 and followed by a crowd, paced the bridge on both sides from 
 one end to the other, and shrieked as loud as his lungs would 
 permit — t 
 
 " Who'll give a sou for twenty francs ? Genuine gold ! Ex- 
 amine before you buy! This is your only chance! Buy! 
 Buy ! Only think, a Napoleon for a sou !" 
 
 Two pretty little brunettes, with raven hair, and coal-black 
 eyes, passed George as he gave vent to the last shriek. He 
 fixed his eyes on them, and repeated the cry. They stopped — 
 hesitated — exchanged glances, and approached the gold-hawker, 
 simpering, and half disposed to risk a sou. 
 
 George held the coin between his finger and thumb, and 
 managed to let a sun-ray fall on it, which caused it to glitter 
 most attractively. The elder of the girls followed its sparkle 
 with her deep black eyes, and, smiling at her companion, said — 
 61 Que je le voie, monsieur." (" Let me look at it.'*) 
 George handed it with an air more courtly than his garments 
 indicated, and Tom's face at the prospect of a purchaser lit up 
 at once with the brightness of a Chinese lantern. 
 
 " II n 'a pas Vair bon" ( a It does not seem good,") said the 
 girl, filliping the coin in order to test its ring. 
 
 George looked earnestly into her eyes, and protested it was 
 good ; but the warmer he grew, the less the girl seemed disposed 
 to purchase. His very anxiety seemed to swell their latent 
 doubts into manifest unbelief, and, handing it back, she said — 
 " Je le crois mauvais" (" I think it is a bad one ;") " reportez- 
 le? (" take it back.") And laughingly turning to her companion, 
 who was adjusting one of those little loves of laced bonnets 
 that only French girls wear, they hurried off amid the mirth of 
 a group of bystanders, one of whom — a small, dirty, tattered, 
 organ-boy — shouted after them — " II court beaucoup defausse 
 
IS a "napoleon" worth a sou? 13 
 
 monnaie" (" There's lots of bad money in circulation.") We 
 could have heartily tweaked the young rascal for his audacity, 
 but merely executing sundry elaborate sniffles on a very pug 
 nose, with various appeals to his handkerchief, he ran off to 
 join a youngster of about his own age and rags whom he espied 
 sousing his toes in the Seine. 
 
 Three-quarters of an hour had glided on, and still French 
 credulity was at a dreadful discount. Tom whispered to us 
 that he had been rash in saying what he had about the frog- 
 eaters, and concluded to give it up as a hopeless case. He 
 walked after George, and told him that he might suspend his 
 endeavours, as all hope had fled, and that his views were fast 
 dissolving. 
 
 " No, no ; your dissolving views may be all very well, but 
 I'll fulfill my time to the minute. When it strikes one, I'll 
 pocket the gilt, and not a moment before. If yoiCre tired of 
 hearing me sacrifice good gold to base copper I can't help it, 
 but I must endeavour to keep on. Here's a Napoleon going 
 for a sou. Who'll buy ! who'll buy !" 
 
 It lacked but five minutes of the hour, when G-eorge was 
 addressed by a nursery-maid, leading a little boy of about four 
 summers, attired in a coquettish-looking pink frock, with red 
 boots. She had been attracted by the cry, and, bending over 
 and saying something to the child which caused its little eyes 
 to glisten, she pulled from her pocket a sou, handed it to George, 
 and gave the Napoleon to the child as a plaything. By the 
 time she had got off of the bridge the clock struck one, and 
 George, thrusting the remaining coins into his vest-pocket, 
 joined us, and wo strolled leisurely towards the Rue St. Ho- 
 nore. 
 
 t; Well, Tom," said the late hawker, " What do you think of 
 my courage? I stood it out, you see." 
 
 " How wrong people can be on this earth ! You had courage 
 enough for a brigade, to do what you did. Everybody said to 
 
14 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 himself, ' That's brass he holds in his hands ;' but it was 
 just t'other way : it was gold in your fingers, and brass some- 
 where else — hem ! Boys, we'll adjourn and cool our throats." 
 
 " Are you satisfied that the Parisians are not as defraudable 
 as you imagined ?" 
 
 "Quite; to the tune of sixty. But no matter," replied 
 Tom. 
 
 " The one that did go was not bought, because the girl thought 
 it real. The fact of her giving it to the child showed that she 
 regarded it as a mere toy." 
 
 " There," cried Tom, biting his lips with slight mortification; 
 " I'm convinced beyond redemption. Let's drop the subject, 
 and wash away the remembrance of it in a bottle of old Bur- 
 gundy." 
 
 We all dined that afternoon at a dashing cafe, somewhere in 
 the Rue Montorgueil, and we have a dim recollection of finding 
 ourselves next morning in a strange chamber overlooking a 
 garden of beautiful flowers, at Chantilly. 
 
 
15 
 
 OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 
 
 The picturesque banks of the river Connecticut are dotted 
 with charming little villiages that break here and there upon the 
 sight like feathers of light, dancing among the willow leaves ; 
 there is such a dazzling irregularity of house and hill — so much 
 faily-like confusion of vista, landscape, and settlement. Now 
 we pass a tiny white and vine-clad cottage, that looks as if it had 
 been set down yesterday — now we sweep majestically by an am- 
 bitious young town, with its two, three, or half-a-dozen church 
 spires, sending back the lines of narrow light into the water — 
 anon we glide past a forest of majestic old trees, that seem to 
 press their topmost buds against the fleecy clouds floating in the 
 blue sky — and through these forests we catch glimpses of the 
 oriole dashing through the boughs like a flake of fire, or the merry 
 thrush trilling its wild wood-notes, while hundreds of joyous 
 little birds are carolling their songs in the very perfection of 
 natural gladness. 
 
 The Connecticut is a delightful stream. To be sure we do 
 not see on its banks baronial castles, ivy-mantled, the token of 
 feudal days, when people inserted themselves into heavy suits of 
 armour, and carried lances about of an absurd length ; neither do 
 we see shining piles of marble that are supposed to reflect their 
 shadows in the Adriatic ; 'tis true wo miss tho orange-groves 
 that skirt the Guadalquiver ; wo find no lotus-flowers that one 
 sees up the Nile, after one has feasted on the pyramids, and re- 
 turned from tho bazaars of Constantinople ; we have no wish to 
 see painful rows of smoko-staincd warehouses that wall the 
 
16 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 Thames. But in lieu of all these, one sees such rose and golden- 
 lined skies — such fresh, genial, and brilliant scenes — such " little 
 loves" of villages — so many busy, neat, tidy-looking towns — 
 such a variety of pretty gardens blooming with roses and 
 flowers, crimson, pink, blue, and yellow, twining their tender 
 branches lovingly and trustingly over whatever object comes in 
 their way. 
 
 It is usual for writers of tales to make whatever river runs 
 through their story, as the " golden stream of all the gods," 
 and for fear the indulgent reader should suspect us of the same 
 romantic but extravagant line of conduct, we wish it distinctly 
 understood that the river in question deserves everything amia- 
 ble that can be said of it. From the humble origin of its rise, 
 until it ceases to be recognized as the Connecticut, it presents a 
 beautiful succession of natural and artificial objects. 
 
 In one of the oldest, smallest, and most sequestered of these 
 river settlements, containing not more than a score or so of small 
 white houses, located in a gentle vale, that gradually slope from 
 the river's edge, and not sufficiently elevated for a glimpse of the 
 solitary church spire to be caught on the river — lived a strange, 
 eccentric, whimsical old fellow, whom tradition had taken the 
 liberty of calling Daniel Suggs, for want of a more proper and 
 legitimate patronymic. The origin of this man seemed to date 
 so far back that the genealogical line became twisted and finally 
 lost in the search. The " oldest inhabitant" only remembered 
 him as a wild, reckless youth, with an irrepressible love of ad- 
 venture, who frequently absented himself for, not days and 
 months, but years, and then all at once would turn up in his 
 li supposed" native town, possibly on a very fine morning, some- 
 thing after the supernatural suddenness of Prince Selim, in the 
 " Arabian Nights." His departure was always as abrupt and 
 unexpected as his return — there were no social connections to 
 wish him good speed, nor gentle eyes to light him on his journey. 
 He would be seen, possibly, lounging in front of the elm grove, 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 17 
 
 or angling in the mill stream, with a favourite dog lying by his 
 side : the next day he had gone, and his mysterious disappear- 
 auce formed a morsel of gossip for a knot of old crones, who 
 stroked their wrinkled brows and pronounced him " a strange 
 sort of creeter." When his memory had faded away, and the 
 pranks of the noisy scape-grace had ceased to be adverted to, 
 who would rise up like a phantom from the dusty roadside, but 
 the self-same Dan, looking just as benignant and reckless as ever? 
 Everybody knew him, and he knew everybody, and the off-hand 
 casual manner with which he would excuse his long absence was 
 as admirable as it was peculiar. 
 
 " Why, Dan, where on earth have you been V the village bar- 
 ber would say. 
 
 " Why," he would reply musingly — u odd's me, I'd rather 
 you'd ax me whar I hant been." 
 
 " You never told us you were going." 
 
 " Well, on my honour, it never struck me to do so. The fact 
 is, I was fishin' for roach — just the day afore I went to Spain — " 
 
 " Spain ! good heavens, Dan, you don't mean to say — " 
 
 " That I've been to Spain—" 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " And Port-e-gal too — and drank an ocean of fruit-juice, and 
 made wreaths of pu?ple grapes for the senoras to wear. Well, 
 as I was sayin', if }^ou'll allow me to go on, the day afore I 
 went to Spain I was fishin' fgr roach, and strike the luck nothin' 
 would bite but eels. I must have set in the brilin' sun three 
 hours, and not a roach would say ' how d' do !' to my hook. I 
 got mad — jumped up, and vowed I'd not stay in a part of the 
 country where a man couldn't get his wishes. ' Where shall I 
 go ?' said I : somethin' like an echo from the hum of the mill- 
 wheel answered < Spain' — and off I went without as much as 
 sayin' one word to a livin' soul except Tuig — poor Tuig — he 
 died on shipboard — he was as honest and faithful a brute as 
 ever* lived, and for the first time in my life the dew stole into 
 
18 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 my eyes when he could no longer lick my hand/' and Dan, at 
 the memory of his dog, turned away his head, and forced back 
 a tear that welled up at the sad recollection. 
 
 Notwithstanding the incertitude that danced attendance on 
 Dan's origin, he was universally loved; even those straight-faced 
 puritanical persons who censured his recklessness, owned that 
 he was honest and good-natured to a fault. His very manner 
 — brusque and primitive — though it was lacking polish, and 
 hard as the diamond, like the gem in the rough, exhibited a 
 wildness of natural beauty that told of hidden worth. The puz- 
 zle of his birth seemed to give his rude romantic- nature a dou- 
 ble zest, and had it been clearly and satisfactorily explained who 
 were his forefathers, that halo of genial mystery lingering around 
 him would have been for ever removed, and he must eventually 
 have deemed himself the mere anomalous roamer of hmd and 
 sea. But traditionary superstition was busy with Dan although 
 he was not aware of it. Some of the old women, setting aside 
 the laws of Nature, were of the horticultural belief that he had 
 emanated from a huge pumpkin that had been planted by a certain 
 outlandish descendant of Oliver Cromwell, when the . 
 first settled. Others seemed to agree that he was a son of the 
 Wandering Jew, but with no inborn pur) '! : and tin 
 
 ton very frequently, on the sly, retailed a dream he had had the 
 night the stars fell, in which nocturnal vision it appears that 
 Dan was shadowed as having emcrgej. from a spry young willow 7 - 
 tree that waved its tender branches over the new-made grave of 
 a usurer. An old fortune-telling woman, who made monthly 
 excursions into the village, for the purpose of reading the palms 
 of the love-lorn girls, and who it was said lived in a hut in the 
 forest — this gipsy fortune-telling hag very gravely laid Dan's 
 origin at the door of a certain man of great estates who had 
 long since died at some ancient castle in Scotland. Dut all of 
 these opinions, diverse and conflicting as they were, did not give 
 Dan any great trouble. It would have been the same to his 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 19 
 
 happy frame of mind, whether he were the shoot of a pumpkin, 
 the scion of the Wandering Jew, the branch of a willow tree, 
 or a cast-away heir of a Scotch baronet. As matters stood, he 
 was troubled with no family connections, and kind mother Na- 
 ture, under the circumstances, having behaved wisely in creating 
 him callous to worldly views, he went his way rejoicing — an ec- 
 centric, sun-browned, good-natured, athletic man, with no strong 
 affection for anything except his rifle, and a predilection for 
 relating " whopping" stories of his travels, and incidents of ad- 
 venture which no mortal since the days of Baron Munchausen 
 could have experienced under any possible circumstances. 
 
 As Dan grew up and disappeared, and returned from time to 
 time, he was certain to bring with him quantities of the most 
 unheard-of exploits, until in late years, when his presence was 
 in the end expected, his return was looked forward to with 
 feelings of t^ae liveliest interest. He was regarded as an ignis 
 fatuns of adventure, here to-day, and there to-morrow, tasting 
 the honey of marvels with the flitting movement of the bee that 
 slyly enters the silken cups of the flowers. And this feeling 
 Dan himself had of course cultivated. According to his own 
 account, he had been everywhere from Chillicothe to China — 
 doubled both the capes a dozen times at least — crossed various 
 deserts (more, we suppose, than were on the maps), and stood 
 on his head on the peaks of more mountains than, put close be- 
 side each other, would create a moderate-sized continent. He 
 thought nothing of breakfasting in Nubia on a lion's back, 
 lunching with a brown bear on the Rocky Mountains, and then, 
 by way of exercise, taking a facetious turnabout in the Mael- 
 strom, or playing " hop, skip, and jump," among the glaciers of 
 Mont Blanc, where the air was most rarified, as the case might 
 be. He was the only American friend the Governor of Japan 
 ever recognized, and he had repeatedly advised him in the send- 
 ing out of savage fleets for the subjugation of neighboring na- 
 tions. The glittering icebergs of the polar seas, he knew by 
 
20 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 heart. He insisted on having had confidential chats through the 
 chinks of the pyramids with mummies that had been dead four 
 thousand years ; and as to the mystery of the Sphynx, the rid- 
 dle was as plain to him as the nose on his face, if he only choose 
 to tell it. He had used Cleopatra's needle for a toothpick on 
 more than one occasion after dining on roast hippopotamus and 
 giraffe jelly. He had seen enough of " them Chinese" to advise 
 old people who treasured their nerves to use black tea instead of 
 green, and on more than one occasion ventured to rashly assert 
 that every cigar smoked in England was not all tobacco, by con- 
 siderable. So he went on, to the delight of the rustics, who 
 wondered indeed, to adopt the idea of poor dear Goldsmith, 
 " that one small head could carry all he knew." 
 
 When Dan was at home — if the small settlement, with the 
 slenderest idea of propriety could be called " home" — he took 
 up his abode in a rough log structure, surrounded by a white 
 pale-fence, which he called his cottage, but which the neighbor- 
 hood had christened " Dan's Den." It was a curious old pile, 
 composed of rough-hewn oaken logs, locked together and wed- 
 ded at the seams by satisfactory daubs of red clay, which the 
 sun had baked into a substance tolerably substantial. Over this 
 bleak framework were thrown long black branches of various 
 trees, the interstices being stuffed with moss and straw, and 
 then the whole paved with dark rows of uneven stones, which 
 afforded a rude shelter, and bid an humble defiance to the storms 
 that might hurl their power at the brow of this little tenement. 
 A small temporary aperture at one side served for a chimney ; 
 and one window, with half a dozen panes of dingy glass, and a 
 pine door, swinging on a pair of crazy hinges, were the most no- 
 ticeable exterior features of Dan's Den. In good sooth it would 
 have looked more like the savage retreat of a beast of the for- 
 est, had its wildness not been relieved by the really neat white 
 fence that surrounded it — presenting the idea of a beautiful 
 frame around a deformed picture — and the further and more 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 21 
 
 charming relief of a wild rose-bush, that had turned its tendrils 
 around the stakes of the gate-posts, and broke into a shower of 
 rich oriental blossoms, filling the air with fragrance, and stand- 
 ing as the sentinel-flower of this rude, uncouth structure. So 
 gloomy a building seemed little to deserve so fair an attendant. 
 A sprite, " all air, all poesy," doomed to the heels of an ugly, 
 grinning Cyclop, could not have been at more seeming contrast ; 
 and yet those crimson-hearted roses had in nowise caught the 
 rude infection. They smiled as only roses do smile, and threw 
 their gay plumes to the wind in the very merriest of humors. — 
 Dan, with all his homespun coarseness, cherished his rose-bush, 
 and as the buds appeared gave them the choicest of names. He 
 also avowed that the flowers took turns about in waiting up for 
 him at nights, and that he kissed them by the light of the moon- 
 beams, and then they folded themselves up with the dew on their 
 breasts, and fell asleep till morning. This susceptibility of 
 mind to objects of beauty softened the nature of the man, and 
 made him the jovial good-natured creature of adventure that 
 he was. 
 
 But we are committing an act of mental petty larceny in thus 
 summarily running off with Dan's roses ; and so, returning pla- 
 cidly to his cabin, we will conclude our account of it by merely 
 remarking the clump of althea bushes growing about the back, 
 that so gaudily throw up their broad saucer-like flowers to the 
 sun, and casting a glance at the curious old-fashioned open tressel 
 by the door side, on which is mounted a barrel, with a chain and 
 tin cup attached, and a label painted in broad brown letters the 
 friendly invitation— HELP YOURSELF. The casual infer- 
 ence would be that this barrel contained water ; but Dan, when 
 li at home," disdained that popular fluid, and showed his hospital- 
 ity by offering his visitors something more substantial and less 
 plentiful. To be brief, it contained hard cider ; so, after all, in 
 visiting Dan's queer rude old residence, one had to pass a rose- 
 bush in bloom, and a friendly request to quench one's thirst, and 
 
22 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 these were no mean attributes in tranquillizing the mind before 
 entering. 
 
 The interior — the one-room dwelling of old Dan Suggs — was 
 a picture for painters to study. AVilkic would have lingered in 
 it, as a rare subject for his sprightly pencil. It was in keeping 
 with the character of its possessor. Its grand feature was, first, 
 its wild and general disorder; and then the character of the 
 furniture, and the objects observable, wove a rugged uniqueness 
 that appealed at once to the suggestive imagination. A hearth, 
 with huge stone hobs, claimed one corner, in which lay the 
 smouldering remains of an arm-load of greenwood. An oppo- 
 site corner was curtained off to protect from the gaze a floor-bed, 
 for our hero had a hearty contempt of feathers and four-posters. 
 Quilts were entirely out of the question ; and a- lor pillows, it 
 was his opinion that they imparted a softness to the head, which 
 in time developed itself in other than a physi He 
 
 glowed in bear skins, however, and was alive to the genial power 
 of warmth concealed in a buffalo robe. 
 
 Suspended on hooks were three or four flint-lock rifles, one of 
 which had a shattered stock; and side by Bide with these for- 
 midable weapons swung several rust ! blades, 
 that looked as if they had been else than idle since first wrought. 
 Nailed with well-arranged nicety, were at least twenty scarps of 
 foxes, deer and bears, proud trophies of slaughter. Here hung 
 a suit of dusty buckskin, and there a broad sombrero; at one 
 side lay a worm-eaten saddle, having as near neighbors the lac- 
 erated remains of a pair of leathern logging, and the more lively 
 companionship of several bead-worked Indian moccasins. For 
 the purpose of chairs various hewn blocks of wood had been 
 substituted ; and in lieu of a dressing-table, with the usual con- 
 ventional accompaniments of sweet soaps, freckle-eradicators, 
 hair-unguents, and similar cosmetic torn-fooleries, was a stolid 
 column of oak, hollowed out, in which fitted a basin of tin. 
 His tablecloth — though he seldom dined in his cottage — was 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 23 
 
 the spotted skin of a leopard, for which he had bartered beads 
 with some dreadful tribe of savages on the African coast. 
 Hither and thither were scattered minerals and fossils that he 
 had brought home from time to time. Every stone had a 
 story intimately linked with it. there was an episode lurking 
 in the heart of each pebble ; and if the stuffed birds and fishes 
 that lay on all sides had the power of using their tongues, 
 what a medly of odd reminiscences would have been evolved, 
 to be sure ? Crusoe's cave could not have presented a greater 
 variety in its very hey-day ; though there was a large lump of 
 gold thrown uselessly by, to heighten the value of the satur- 
 nalia. 
 
 Such was Dan's museum, then — a rugged collection of tokens 
 from every quarter of the globe. The one object of modern 
 aspect that adorned the apartment was a painting — some said it 
 was a portrait — which he kept carefully shrouded with a black 
 cloth, and which he gave people to understand was not there 
 placed for scrutiny. If any curiosity got about, from the fact 
 of this picture being covered, nobody evinced it ; though we 
 dare say, in the bosoms of the town gossips it was pretty sure 
 to exist. 
 
 Dan Suggs had been at home " this last spell ; ' for at least 
 seven months, and waxed weary of the unvarying round of his 
 Connecticut life. The beauties of the river, the genial atmos- 
 phere, and the temptations of the forest — all palled on his taste, 
 and he resolved to once more go abroad. A resolve with Dan 
 was no sooner formed than it was clinched ; there was no ' : back- 
 ing out" in his nature, and when he said " I'll go," it was a fair 
 synonym of " gone." 
 
 Contrary to his usual line of conduct, lie did not this time dis- 
 appear suddenly and mysteriously, as a demon bolts through a 
 trap in a Christmas pantomine, but. invited a number of his 
 friends the night before to a bout, and there announced his 
 intention. 
 
 9 
 
24 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR, 
 
 And the guests. There was Captain Spiggot, the innkeeper. 
 
 Captain Peter Spiggot was a short dumpy person, with a pair 
 of very fat cheeks, in the centre of which was placed a' very pug 
 nose — so atrociously pug, that had Captain Spiggot been pur- 
 blind he could not have worn spectacles. Captain Spiggot was 
 one of Dan's warmest admirers — who looked upon him as a walk- 
 ing anecdote; and, besides, Dan was a devoted patron of the 
 " TVkeatsheaf," which perhaps accounted somewhat for the afore- 
 said admiration. 
 
 There was Jack Coulboy, a hard old fellow of German extrac- 
 tion, who was a jack-of-all-trades, and reckoned among his 
 accomplishments a slight knowledge of the violin. He had 
 descended from a musical family by his mother's side, and could, 
 by dint of severe scraping, rub four elderly tunes out of the 
 catgut. 
 
 There was Abell Snukks, the miller's man, who with a perti- 
 nacity peculiar to the craft, insisted on wearing a white hat, no 
 matter how dingy his face might be. Abell was a tall, gawky, 
 wiry chap, that never had an article of clothing to lit him, for 
 his joints seemed to possess a certain hinge-like property, and 
 6eemcd to shift about every now and then. Abell boasted of 
 having lifted a great many sacks of flour in his time, and protest- 
 ed he " could chaw as much tobacco as any man of his size," in 
 all New-England. 
 
 Then there were neighbour Lee ; Harry Hanks, the fisherman, 
 who always smelt of shad ; and Captain Spiggot's little boy, 
 Hezekiah, who had built up quite a reputation in his native town 
 for consuming brown gingerbread — particularly specimens of spi- 
 ced zoology in the way of cake camels, elephants and lions. His 
 father, the captain, frequently on lonely winters' evenings, when 
 business was slack, laid wagers with the neighbours that his son 
 Hezekiah would undertake to eat twenty gingerbread elephants 
 in five hours ; and setting the youngster up on a high stool, he 
 was encouraged to stuff Until his little jacket almost burst with 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 25 
 
 the load. Hezekiali did not want much coaxing for the first 
 dozen elephants ; but after that he slowly munched, generally 
 attacking the trunk, then removing the tail, and so traversing 
 the outline of the animal till it gradually lost its identity. 
 
 This was the " select circle" that Dan had invited to pass the 
 evening at his den. He had prepared several large jugs of 
 whisky toddy, laid in a good stock of pipes and cigars, and had 
 taken especial pains to replenish the cider barrel, which of late 
 had evinced sundry gurgling symptoms of decline. Old Jack 
 Coulboy had brought his Cremona, but on his way shattered the 
 bridge, and of course the instrument was rendered useless. 
 
 " Now boys, bring up your lounges — they aint soft as — what's 
 the word I want ?" said Dan filling a pipe. 
 
 " Flour bags," suggested the miller. 
 
 " Flour bags, no — ottomans — things I have seen in the Injies, 
 but they're what I don't approve of no how you can fix it — pull 
 'em up now, and we'll have a game of ' brag.' I feel wolfish to- 
 night, and bleve I'll hold three or " double pairs' every hand. 
 Shall it be 'brag'?" 
 
 " For my part, I'm < dead flat broke ' — busted as clean as a 
 whistle — not a cent to git shaved to-morrow," remarked Snukks, 
 the miller's man, who was one of those people, everywhere to be 
 met with, that never by chance have any change." " Praps 
 you'll lend me an X, Dan, till I see you agin." 
 
 " Would with the greatest pleasure, Abell, but my return's 
 somethin unsartin ; and I never lend in i brag' — it's cut-tin' one's 
 own wizzen." 
 
 " It's my opinion " — this was Captain Spiggot's usual mode 
 of heading a remark — " it's my opinion that we'd better not 
 play • brag ' at ail ; but let us set down, take it cool, and Dan'll 
 tell us a yarn — what do you say, Dan ?" 
 
 " I'm on hand," replied he ; " but I vote for ' brag,' providin' 
 there's any blunt in the crowd."' 
 
 " I'm sorry I'm broke; but if I had the tin I'd as leave lose 
 five hundred dollars as one," said Abell, stretching his long 
 
26 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 crane-looking figure, and arising from his seat apparently in 
 sections. 
 
 If Abell's word could have been taken, he would have per- 
 formed acts of frightful prodigality, hut as matters stood his 
 monthly income barely supported him in " backa" and "board}" 
 and so thoroughly characteristic of his occupation were his 
 trowscrs, that wherever he sat down he was safe to leave a white 
 " reminiscence" of his presence. 
 
 " Confound you, Abell Smikks, you whitewash everything 
 you touch," said Dan. " Pull up that stool in the middle of 
 us." 
 
 Abell obeyed the direction. 
 
 "Indeed it's ray opinion that we'd better nol play," said the 
 Captain, pretending to search his pock* : imehow or the 
 
 other I'm very short. Harry, snuff the candle; and a long 
 yarn, Dan, would make us terrible comfortable." 
 
 "Whyj" quoth Dan, ruminating and replenishing his g 
 with toddy; "to tell you the truth. I skeercely know what to 
 
 talk of. Jack, supj \ >u play something, and I'll stir up my 
 
 memory." 
 
 "I've broke the bridge of ' Sukey' or 1 would." replied old 
 Jack, shuffling a pack of very dingy cards that lie had produced 
 from his pocket. 
 
 By " Sukey" Jack meant his violin, he having thus named it 
 out of respect after some worthy ancestor. 
 
 " I say, Dan, you've heard of the sea sarpint, haven't you," 
 inquired Abell, staring at the fossil remains of a mammoth- 
 headed fish, which its possessor insinuated was a native of the 
 Dead Sea. 
 
 " Heer'd of the sea sarpint ! Ha ! ha ! ha !" roared Dan, 
 elevating his ponderous boots on a line with his nose. " That's 
 a good question to axe Dan Suggs. Have I seen the Sarpint ? 
 Have I ever rode on his back and gone into port, you mean, I 
 kalkelate. Didn't I never tell you 'bout that scrape :" 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 27 
 
 The Captain was of the opinion that he never had. 
 
 " Why, you must be a-jokin, Spiggot, I thought the hull 
 State knew it." 
 
 Every one present pledged their separate and solemn words 
 that they never had heard a syllable on the subject. 
 
 " That beats the savages. Why, I'd a-bet my big toe 'ginst 
 a turnip I'd told you. It's one of my great 'ventures. Abell, 
 fill my glass, and I'll go in. Come here, Tom." 
 
 Tom — which was a fierce overgrown cat, as black as Erebus, 
 with large eyes that shone like balls of fire — walked with velvet 
 tread towards his master, and springing with a bound, comfort- 
 ably settled on Dan's shoulder. 
 
 " Well, first and foremost you must know," commenced Dan, 
 rubbing his huge whiskers against puss, which caused him to 
 blink his extensive red eyes, " it isn't for me to set here and 
 tell you I been a great traveller ; for it's ginerally owned up in 
 this part of the world I'm all of that — " 
 
 " And more too," interrupted Abell. 
 
 " I'm of your opinion," chimed the Captain. 
 
 " Don't imbarras the speaker, gentlemen, but pass the punch," 
 remarked Dan in the best humour. 
 
 " You see last summer I got kind of tired loafin 'bout tho 
 place, and one mornin' I stepped on board the brig c Polly,' 
 bound for the Sandwich Islands, determined to have a cruise. 
 The captain, who was out-and-out human, and me were as thick 
 as brothers, and the first mate happenin' to die off the coast, I 
 was appointed in his berth. Well, I hadn't been more than 
 two days in my new service, afore one of the sharpest squalls 
 come up that ever whirled a vessel. The wind whistled, cracked, 
 blew, dashed everything into bits, and our poor little craft 
 shook about like a feather-bed on horseback. Odd's me, I kin 
 see the ' Polly' now just as plain as if it was that stuffed otter 
 thar, twirlin' like a tee-to-tum on the waters. Well, this squall 
 lasted two days and two nights, and when it cleared up we all 
 
2S DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 felt as if we'd been stook in a bag against a cart-load of pavin'- 
 stones. We lost one jib-stay, the main top-sail, and our stern 
 taffrail was a mass of flinders. Our sheets looked as if they'd 
 been cut up for ribbons to make holiday streamers, an' the top 
 canvas got so tied up in a knot that we had a good month's 
 work afore us to git 'em right agin. What was provok'nest of 
 all, we had made up our minds after this tremenjus blow we'd 
 have fair knock-a-head winds, and soon get into port. But here 
 our hopes were cornered most beautiful. Instead of fresh galea 
 springin' up, the wind, after its 'stravagant lit had breathed its 
 last, and the taunt topsails flapped about with the omen of a 
 long calm. I was provoked beyond everything human, an' 
 settin' down on a short allowance of pigtail, I kommenced 
 carvin' pine cupids out of aboard I found in the fore hatchway. 
 This was mighty snug amusement for a landsman — not that I'm 
 a lubber, as the sailors say — but hardly the chalks for a be- 
 calmed mate. What could I do? Makin 1 timber oupid 
 fine work, but it didn't pay the underwriters, I b'leve you call 
 'em — but there was no help for it. I didn't have command of 
 the winds, or I should have ordered up a breeze in less than no 
 time, so we sat on the waters like a sleepy duck. This went on 
 for four days, and on the fifth, when all hands were gettin' dis- 
 gustin' lazy and loungin' about deck like overfed porpoi- 
 man who was up in the shrouds — long Bill we called him — 
 
 " Was ho taller than me ?" inquired Snukks, with a dusty 
 wink in his right eye, doubtless the doings of the punch. 
 
 " It's my opinion you'd better not interrupt the speaker," 
 suggested Captain Spiggot, whose pipe had turned upside down 
 in his attention. 
 
 " Taller than you !" exclaimed Dan. " Why you're only six 
 foot seven." 
 
 " Six foot eight — I beg your pardon," interrupted Abell. 
 "I was measured on Easter Sunday. Aaron Ginger's wife 
 insineated I could eat an egg for every inch I stood in my 
 gtockin's." 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 29 
 
 " You've got a human appetite of your own, I guess," pursued 
 Dan; " but howsoever your niunchin' stands, Long Bill shoots 
 up past you two foot — he's a good eight feet, and thin as a flag- 
 staff. "Well, as I was say in,' Bill shouts out in a hoss voice, 
 ' There's soniethin' strange bearen' on the lee bow !' I didn't 
 take any partickler 'tention to this, tkinkin' it was one of Bill's 
 yarns, and went on whittlen'. Jist then the Captain, who was 
 standing on the quarter-deck with the glass, roared, ' It's the 
 devil himself ! Bring out the guns !' This rather took me 
 aback; and throwin' Mr. Cupid into the sea head formest, I 
 sprang up in the ropes, and may I never scent bear meat agin 
 if I didn't see about two miles of soniethin' black roarin' and 
 pitchin' on the top of the water. Wasn't thar a rumpus among 
 the men ! I never seed anything like it since I come into the 
 world. The sea all at once swelled and foamed, and though 
 there wasn't a breath of wind stirrin', the waves dashed about 
 and turned somersets over each other jist like they do in a 
 hurry cane. It wasn't long afore we had all the guns on board, 
 and our Captain, who was bilin' over with clear grit, jumped 
 up and crowed, and said, ' Devil, or no devil, we'll have a shy 
 at him 1' Still the black body moved on, and at last it got so 
 near the brig we could hear it breathe under the water. ' Man 
 the boats with harpoons!' 'sklaimed the Captain; and in less 
 time than torn here could snatch a liver from a dresser, the boats 
 were unswung and down. I was self appinted komander, and 
 standin' at the larboard gang with a big iron spear in my fist 
 ready to hurl, the huge black devil raised its head out of the 
 water not a furlong from me, and groaned like a mad whale, 
 Thar! talk about heads. It wasn't a speck smaller than a 
 three-story house, and each of its teeth was an ivory column 
 cut in a gothic style, at least two yards long, at a sudden guess. 
 The t'rific sight made two of our oarsmen keel over, and I don't 
 wonder at it, for of all the hugest, infernal, frightful lookin' 
 varments I ever clapt eyes on, it certainly did take the belt. 
 
30 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 It kept its head out of the brine only about twenty seconds, 
 and sousing it agin, the water flew about and nearly washed us 
 away. I jist had time to notice that the critter hadn't any 
 eyes, and this fact I took to heart very encouragin', for I 
 knew if matters come to the worst it left us a young chance in 
 the game that had to be played. It was as clear as could be 
 that the varmint had smelt our vessel, and was makin 1 for us 
 with a dead set. Thinks I, Old Satin — if that's your 
 Christian name — I'll fool you or splurge a tryin; and with 
 that I ordered the long boat to pull around to the other side, 
 and try ancLgit up a scent on the starboard main. Around 
 they went, with Long Bill at the head, an 1 though the move- 
 ment of the water fiend v minnit stirren' up the sea to 
 a dreadful foam of excitement, they pitched round bravely, and 
 soon headed it off. In the mean time I looked off to see if I 
 eould trace the end of the enormous beast, and jist as far as the 
 eye would reach I could see the water partin' with a tar-black 
 line in the centre. ' Odds me !' said 1 to myself, for 1 wouldn't 
 dishearten the men. ' here's no end of trouble ; but I'll sec it out 
 if we all get chawed to bits;' and tins thought had no sooner 
 flashed through my brain afore the gigantic eyeless head raised 
 up agin within ten foot of us, and bi. ;g ! I let drive my spear 
 with all the force I could muster. Whew! talk of claret! 
 I had hit it mortal, and a red column spouted up in the air as 
 thick as your leg. Then such plunges, dives, and caper.-, 
 never heard tell of. A ' demonstration' from Vesuvius was 
 nowhar, and has no biz'ness to be mentioned in the same breath. 
 The sea on all sides tossed and raved, and for some time we 
 couldn't see the sun, it ran so high." 
 
 Abell opened his eyes very wide at this, and the Captain 
 shifted his legs most ungracefully. Even little Hezekiah 
 deserted the cars of a gingerbread pon}~, which he had been 
 reserving for a favourite swallow, and riveted his large gray 
 optics on the narrator. 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 31 
 
 " Fact, I kin tell you," remarked Dan, observing the incredu- 
 lous stare of his audience. " You never knew nie in your lives 
 to sacrefize truth to make a good story. Don't all speak at 
 once, and confuse me with komplements. People say I'm as 
 hard as a rock ; but when you come to flattery I melt like snow 
 in a June shower. And don't put me out. Let me see, where 
 was I ?" 
 
 " At the sun," prompted Abell. 
 
 " "Wall, as I was sayin', for our lives and bodies, we couldn't 
 get a squint at the sun, though it was broad mid-day; yet,- 
 through the haze of mist and vapour, we could see the folds of 
 the monster writhin' and twisten\ like a mammoth black silk 
 hangkerchief in convulsions. Long Bill and the men in t'other 
 boat got dyed with the spout of blood, for it fell in a shower 
 over them; and the ' Polly' looked as if she'd been dipped in 
 vermilion. All that now remained to be done was to give the 
 monster one dig more, and it couldn't help bleeden' to death at 
 the rate it was then leakin'. I hunted up another spear, and, 
 takin' advantage of a momentary calm, made towards its head 
 agin, and sent iron Xo. 2 after its companion. This was a 
 ' cooler' ; for, twenty minutes after the last strike, the sea 
 subsided in our neighbourhood, and, except a long way in the 
 distance, where we supposed the tail to be, it was agin jist as 
 smooth as glass, only the water looked as if it had been kivered 
 with a red carpet. You can imagine my feeiiirs when I saw 
 the gigantic Head laying lifeless on the waters. I was so proud 
 of the kapture that, pullin' alongside of the huge victim, I jump- 
 ed on to its neck, when it gave a sort of dyin' twitch ; and how 
 far do you think it threw me ?" 
 
 Abell guessed ten feet ; Spiggot fifteen ; Coulboy twenty ; 
 and little Jlezckiah. who thought he might as well be extensive 
 as otherwise while he was about it, said half-a-mile, much to the 
 chagrin of his father, who thought he perceived a sly twinkle in 
 the eye of his offspring as he spoke. 
 
32 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " You're all wrong, though Hez is nearest," continued Dan. 
 " It tossed me seventeen miles, and I lit on the back of the 
 monster. You well may stare ; but where I struck, it hadn't 
 yet commenced to be dead ; and I give you my word it took me 
 six hours to walk from where I was thrown, and I had a straight 
 line of it at that. When I reached the brig, I found 'cm all in 
 a cruel state of agitation ; for they thought I was lost to a dead 
 certainty, when they saw me dart in' through the air like a mas- 
 keline telegraph. I cheered 'em up again — told 'em I was'nt a 
 bit siled, for it was soft where I fell ; and then we all hands got 
 together on deck, and studied what we should do. I proposed, 
 the first thing, a double allowance of grog all round, which was 
 served out, and then they all drunk my health for savin' 'em 
 from a horrid and sartin fate. The Captain hung a silver watch 
 around my neck, and told me I had shown true Yankee stuff, and 
 would be an ornament to the navy. The men all got loving 
 tipsy, and swore they'd live and die for me. Then the Captain 
 made a speech, and oifcrcd to resign in my favour ; but I told 
 him, afore I'd displace him, I'd rather stuff sassidgesfor a livin' : 
 and then he swore I was the noblest fellow he ever met in his 
 life, and that I ought to be President of the United States afore 
 I withdrew from public life. The men all got so weak in the 
 kmee-pans that day. we done nothin'but snore; and if the* Polly' 
 ever had a cargo of jollity aboard of her, she had then. The 
 Captain down to the cook was as glorious ' tight' as humans 
 could be. We put the question in reg'lar form, whether any- 
 body should stay sober ? and old Whisky carried the day by a 
 sensible majority. The ship took care of itself; and if any- 
 body had been found sober, we'd thrown 'em overboard. It 
 would ha' been disgusting and out of all character to hev walk- 
 ed a chalk-line on that occasion ; and the upshot of the story 
 was, the next morning's sun found us ready launched, and sails 
 set for duty. When we all turned out, the adventure of the 
 preceding day seemed like a dream ; but one glance at the red 
 
OLD DAN OF CONNECTICUT RIVER. 33 
 
 splosh on all sides woke us up in double-quick-time. Long Bill 
 looked like an extensive fresh-burnt brick walkm' about ; and, 
 in fact, the men were all more or less tinged. The first thing 
 we set about was to take the dimensions of the monster, and 
 began operations at his head. From the tip of the nose to the 
 back of the neck, it measured a clean twenty feet ; around the 
 shoulders, it lacked about an inch of being seventy feet ; from 
 the ears" — 
 
 " Had it ears ?" inquired Abell. 
 
 " Ears ! to be sure it had. Do you 'spose it could neither see 
 nor hear? From the ears around to its belly, doublin' the line 
 once around the neck, it measured two hundred feet ; and the 
 teeth, which were of solid ivory, each weighed half-a-ton. Some 
 of the men hacked away a bit of the blubber from the lower jaw 
 — for it had a double chin as fat as butter — and it yielded a gilt- 
 edged ile that burned like a Drummond light ! We worked for 
 a week to get out one of the teeth, but it was no good : they 
 were rooted so firm, that axes and boardhv -pikes were lost on 
 'em. The skin of the head, which was a pale blue, and clocked 
 jist like old-fashioned Salem stockhrs, was as soft as sponge ; 
 and this accounted for my hevin' killed him so sudden. If this 
 hadn't been the case, we'd all been crushed and swallowed, with- 
 out doubt ; for the monster only had to half-open his mouth, and 
 if we'dbeennear enough, brig, mast and all, musthev slid in, 
 and never scraped his tonsils ! 
 
 u The strangest part of the whole biz'ness is, it never struck a 
 livin' soul of us what it was we'd captured till we had stood out 
 from the moflster a fortnight : then it was as plain as poverty — : ' 
 u How was that ?" inquired the miller's man. 
 u Why. findin' there was no hope of loadin' with ivory, which 
 seemed to be the only part of our prize worth takin' on freight, 
 we rigged out a full canvas and started to find the monster's 
 tail. We sailed on day after day, but could see no signs of it ; 
 and at the end of two weeks, when everybody was paralyzed with 
 
34 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 amazement, and we began to think we should never come to the 
 conclusion of the long black line, may I be chained and never 
 let out agin if the body didn't bend down into the water, and 
 disappear with a plunge ! This was enough for me : I didn't 
 b'lieve it had an end ; or if it had, mortal men were doomed not 
 to see it. A somcthin' then whispered in my ear I had done a 
 great deed, and the fact dashed itself with uncommon force on 
 the ^cach of my mind — " 
 
 u Good heavens, Dan ! what was it ?" shrieked Captain Spiggot 
 and Abell simultaneously. 
 
 "What was it?" said Dan, the whole expanse of his bronzed 
 countenance lighting up wit! i a glow of exultant good humour 5 
 "how can you ask? Why, that I — I, poor Dan Suggs — had 
 
 KILLED THE Sea SaRPINT, TO BE SURE I" 
 
 We need not tell the reader that this last achievement elevat- 
 ed our hero to a still loftier position in the minds of the folks 
 of the Connecticut River town; and it has been reserved for 
 the writer of t] — for otherwise the "fact" might still 
 
 have been withheld from an anxious public — to proclaim Dan 
 Suggs the original^ or what is called in melodramatic parlance 
 the "first murderer" of the celebrated and recently revrft ; 
 serpent. Long may Dan live to enjoy his laurels ' 
 
35 
 
 JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN WHICH THE AUTHOR. MEETS JONATHAN. 
 
 " Kin you tell me the way tew the cattle-show, stranger ?" 
 The speaker was — but by way of making matters clear we 
 must first describe our position. 
 
 We had but a moment before turned out of the National 
 Gallery, where we had been lingering in a dreamy state of ad- 
 miration over Titian's exquisite " Bacchus and Ariadne," and 
 Garofalo's " Vision of St. Augustine," and ungloved one hand 
 in order to bestow a gratuity upon a wretched old man, whose 
 pale cheek and care-wrinkled brow told a tale of iron poverty, 
 when we were accosted as above, and in a tone of voice which 
 immediately called up visions of New England, and announced 
 the owner of the aforesaid voice, whoever he might be, as thor- 
 i (Highly and unequivocally American. We turned suddenly 
 about, looked our interlocutor full in the countenance, when, 
 much to our astonishment, who did we recognize but a glorious 
 rustic, homespun friend from the hills of New Ham shire, whose 
 acquaintance we had formed while " taking notes" through the 
 Eastern States several years agone. We could scarcely put 
 jfaith in the correctness of our vision, when the rough, honest rep- 
 1 resentative of 'tother side of Old Ocean sought its identity. He 
 was the very last man in the world we should have suspected of 
 finding from the sound of the village church-bell — a tortoise 
 
36 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 rashly and deliberately leaving its all-protecting shell would not 
 have surprised me more. 
 
 " Why, Jonathan, what in the name of all that's agricultural 
 are you doing on John Bull's side of the Atlantic," said we, or 
 rather roared we, for albeit 
 
 "'Tis vulgar (as Lord Chesterfield admonished) 
 To let folks see us startled or astonished. 1 ' 
 
 ; 
 If a grand jury of the superior court of good-breeding had been 
 
 standing by to decide on the fate of our manners, we could not 
 
 have resisted the open palm stretched towards us. We shook it 
 
 till we could feel the warm blood mount with a genial flow to 
 
 our temples. " How are you, my good old friend ? Extremely 
 
 delighted am I to meet you in London." 
 
 " Neow," exclaimed Jonathan, his ruby face gleaming with 
 
 the light of simple benevolence, " tew tell ycou the truth, I can 
 
 skeercely account for my comin' to England myself. You must 
 
 know I got a whim in my head one day that I'd like tew sec some 
 
 Durham cattle, which I've hearn a heap abeout, and taste the 
 
 English mutton, which they dew say beats all natar. Well, I 
 
 told this notion around tew some o' the neighbors, among the 
 
 rest tew Isaac Stairs. Perhaps neow yeou remember Ike when 
 
 ycou were down tew Barley Creek — him that always wore the red 
 
 cravat on mcctin'-days. Well, Ike got tew runnin' me abeout 
 
 England, and went so far as tew bet a pen'north of shoe-laces 
 
 aginst a row of pins, with Hester Dykes, that I was afe&redp&uo 
 
 cross the sea. This come tew my cars ; and if there's one tiling 
 
 more nur another that riles me, it's to be called a coward. My 
 
 Puritan blood riz right up iu my shirt, and the next day, when 
 
 Ike cum to borrow a kettle for his wife to stew some pears in, I 
 
 taxed him with what he'd said. The mean critter, instead of 
 
 being well ashamed of himself, snorted out intew a hoss-laugh, 
 
 and said if I wasn't afcard of the sea I wuz of the sharks, and 
 
 so it wuz all the same thing. I up and told him he wuz as 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 37 
 
 mean as dog-pie, though I let hiui hev the kettle ; but I said tew 
 myself, I'll go to England ef it stops my pulse. Well, the wim- 
 min folks coaxed me not tew go sich a long distance from hum ; 
 said I'd never git back alive ; or I'd git lost in London ; and a 
 whole passal of sich stuff. But my mind wuz as firm as a liberty- 
 pole ; so crammin' a stockin' with hard cash I sit sail, and naow 
 yeou see me herejistas nateral as when followin' hoss-flesh at 
 Barley Creek !" 
 
 " You proved that Yankee grit never flinches," we observed. 
 
 " I 'bleve yeou. Come! why I'd a kim ef I'd had tew take a 
 deck passage over on a raft. I'd kim to the everlastin' conclu- 
 sion, and when that's done yeou might as well try to stop weeds 
 growin' in a turnip-patch, or keep chickens out of a barn yard. / 
 wuz bound to kim /" 
 
 " Bravo for old New-Hamshire !" said we. 
 
 " The day before I went down tew New- York tew take the 
 steam-ship, the na-burs all got tew-gether and had a sort of prayer- 
 meeting. One of the deacons of our church made a speech abewt 
 tu hours long, and recommended me tew take a tin basin and the 
 book of Job with me, which advice I followed. I looked intew Job 
 several times, but the tin basin I didn't want more than twice ; so 
 arter that I swapped it off with the steward for a pen-knife, havin' 
 dropped mine overboard one day while makin' a toothpick." 
 
 " Indeed ! what did you come over in ?" 
 
 " The Baltic." 
 
 " Pleasant voyage ?" said we inquiringly. 
 
 " Ye-as, pretty well. Had tu or three sharp blows. This 
 sea-sickness is pesky bad, isn't it ? Talk about yaller janders or 
 meazles, they ain't anything alongside of it. There wuz one fel- 
 ler on board — a tall sailer chap, with a mess of hair around his 
 mouth, a former I reckon — he got so bad one spell he wanted 
 tew be thrown intew the sea. He bellowed dreadful, and declared 
 if he once got alive on dry land, he'd see the sea further 'fore he'd 
 ever come on it again. I heered some of the passengers say ho 
 
38 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 wuz an Itily Count, and that he had acres of diamonds and jewils. 
 on board with him, but I don't know how this wuz. Talk about 
 hair ! If there wuz a half-pound on his face there wuz enough to 
 sit up an upholstery shop and allow you to take an order for half- 
 a-dozen stuifed parlor chairs — an had 'cm soft at that. Never 
 seed such a wadge in my life." 
 
 Before we disclose any further of the conversation of Jonathan 
 Homebred, it is proper that wc should give our readers a better 
 idea of the individual to whom they arc listening with such a 
 deferential ear. He is a man of the medium height, broad- 
 shouldered, verging on corpulency, with a large red, chunky, 
 good-natured face, over which run lines beaming with good- 
 nature; a pair of small black eyes that twinkle like two little 
 gems set in scarlet; a large frowzy mole on the right-hand side 
 of his nose almost as big as a thimble; with long flaxen hair, 
 parted in the middle, falling down carelessly on either shoulder. 
 His dress, at the time we are speaking, consisted of a pair 
 of New-England pegged boots, with soles about as thick as seven 
 good sized biffins piled one upon another; trowsers of a choco- 
 late-colored material, the precise quality of which bafllcd us, only 
 we are able to say that it was extremely stout, and savored 
 somewhat of the angelic odor of corduroy; with the slightest 
 amalgamating essence of fustian; coat matching with the 
 trowsers, with metal buttons, and the tails reaching down 
 and meeting at the calf; with a vest so short that it exposed a 
 portion of a very clean coarse shirt, the collar of which fell 
 around his neck, and was sligkty girt by a single fold of dingy 
 brown ribbon ; his suspenders were apparent whenever he moved, 
 just peeping from below the vest, the little green dots of which 
 seemed to shrink timidly into the material in instinctive fear of 
 the great metropolis to which they had been transported. The 
 picture would not be perfect were we to neglect mentioning a 
 long pair of straps that met the trowsers at about half-way up 
 the boot ; and his hat was a burly old bell-crown, narrow at the 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 30 
 
 base, and exaggerating as it " upward went," with a rim not 
 broader than a sixpence, the back part of which bent up with 
 long-service. Under his arm was a faded old cotton umbrella, 
 minus two of the wires, the handle turning in a hickory effort at 
 a dog's head, but which, from the artist's deficiency of talent for 
 canine delineation, had assumed the caput, to our thinking, of a 
 cross-bred hedgehog, with the ears of possibly a mastiff, but 
 more possibly a porker He had no jack-knife in his hand, but 
 we will be sworn there was one in his pocket, a fact which, by 
 the way, developed itself in a very strong manner before we 
 parted company. 
 
 As chatting within the mists of the fountains of Trafalgar- 
 square on a cold day is by no means agreeable, though " your 
 friend " be a very dear one indeed, we suggested that Mr. Home- 
 bred should accompany us to our lodgings, where we could, in 
 front of a blazing grate, talk over events with the pleasant ac- 
 companiments of a Barranco (real brand) and a glass of nutty 
 port. Jonathan at once acquiesced, and as a Hansom was 
 passing at the moment, we hailed the driver. 
 
 " Jiminy Cranks ! Yew ain't agoin to ride in that thing, are 
 yeow ? It looks like a patent coffin !" said our Yankee friend, 
 gazing with an air of curious interest at the cab, and crossing to 
 examine the position of the perch. " "What a pesky quare go 
 for the driver to set behind ! There's where these things and 
 cabs arn't alike." Then, turning suddenly around to us, said, 
 " I guess we'd better walk, had'nt we ? " 
 
 " If you positively object to a Hansom, I will with pleasure," 
 we said. But if you've not rode in one I should advise you to 
 do so by all means." 
 
 " Well, I guess I will, na'ow I think of it ? It's a pity I 
 should not hev a ride in the cussed thing before I leave Eurip. 
 How much, driver ? " 
 
 " Never mind that," we interrupted. 
 
 But Yankee curiosity is a huge hill to get around in one 
 breath, and Jonathan repeated the query. 
 
40 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Vere to, sir ? " inquired cabby, who was a dwarfish, vulgar, 
 slippery specimen, with little pig-tails of hair sneaking down on 
 his cheeks. " It depends hon the distance." 
 
 Jonathan looked at us. 
 
 " To Oriel Terrace, Bayswater," we said 
 
 " Vy, seein' as how there's two of you, and von's a stranger 
 in Lunun, six shillins," replied the sneaky cabman. 
 
 " Is that abeout right ?" That's a mighty stiff figure, though, 
 I kalkelate, eh ?" remarked Jonathan. He then turned to us 
 and said, " I'm told these cab fellars are awful hands to take 
 advantage of yeou, if they get a chance. "When I first kim to 
 London, chaw me up ef the man that took my luggage up to 
 the hotel didn't charge me half-a-suverin' for goin' about three- 
 quarters of a mile; and then he up and told me it was lucky I 
 met him, as some cabmen was dishonest." 
 
 We observed that the cabman was taking the " dimensions 
 and circumference " of our friend's droll figure ; and thinking, 
 perhaps, that we were both strangers, and that we were his son, 
 more modernized in costume and mien than our parent, he had 
 set his heart on plucking us, to make up for a dull day before. 
 We were silent, however, and merely pulling our friend after 
 us, ensconced ourself behind a miserable hack, and rattled on. 
 Jonathan, still haunted by the query, persisted in inquiring if 
 six shillings was not too much, as he remembered Bayswater 
 was not so very far, having once gone near there to see the Mar- 
 ble Arch. We requested him to be silent on that point, and 
 we would show him our mode of proceeding when cabmen at- 
 tempted to exact unjust fares. This for a time smouldered his 
 curiosity, and he changed the subject. 
 
 " Where did you say you lived ?" 
 
 "Bayswater." 
 
 " Yaas, I know ; but somethin' else. Owe-real something. 
 I forgit the dratted thing." 
 
 " Oriel Terrace," said we. 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBIIED. 41 
 
 " Terrace — that's it ! "Well, naow, aint this the greatest 
 county this side of sundown, for paleyces, tarraces, and vil- 
 lans?" 
 
 " Yillas you mean," corrected wa 
 
 " Yass, villas I mean — I guess I de w ; and some of 'em are 
 'pizan purty too. If you'll bl'eve my racket, I seen one this 
 morning, out somewhere about Pinklico, that almost made my 
 mouth water ; it kind-a-le was built in the Gothic shape, and 
 most killin' beautiful it wuz. I wish to Noah's Ark I could 
 git one of 'em over to Connecticut. Wouldn't it make some of 
 them peart carpenters open their eyes ! They think their mighty 
 smart some of them fellars; well so they are, but when yeou 
 come to these awful, nice, gay little viilins ." 
 
 " Yillas," prompted we emendately. 
 
 ? Yillas," repeated he with the utmos; bonhommie, and laying 
 back with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest. " You're 
 right, I s'pose, for I'm a rough old New -England tree, and never 
 was any great hand at prown'cing things. Law bless my soul ! 
 I should jist like naow to have a villa 1 .ke that one at Pinklico, 
 right slick on the outskirts of Barley Oreek. "Wouldn't I lay 
 back and take big chunks of comfort ! May be I wouldn't I" 
 and the old fellow, delighted at the mere anticipation of such 
 distant luxury, opened his mouth and gave vent to a series of 
 cachinations which caused the cab to vibrate in every part like 
 a harpsichord. 
 
 The dingy driver thrust his mouth to the hole and said 
 
 " I 'opes the gentleman von't shake me hoff my seat." 
 
 " Go to Jehu with your impetence ;" quickly said Jonathan, 
 subduing his mirth and vainly endeavoi ring to turn around in 
 order to see the channel through which the driver had communi- 
 cated his wish. 
 
 11 It strikes me naow, that these men are pesky sassy. I'll 
 git so wrathy some of these days, that before one of them knows 
 who I am, I'll appear to 'em with my hands curled in an atte- 
 tude. A little of theyre sa-as goes a £ reat way with me." 
 
42 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 Listening to the conversation of our friend, we did not detect 
 that our " whip" was following up an old plan laid down by cab- 
 men from time immemorial to fleece uninformed strangers — by 
 taking a roundabout course to the point of destination. Wo 
 noticed that, instead of turning to the left at Regent Circus, he 
 drove sharply to the right into Oxford Street, and was thread- 
 ing his way very comfortably among the broughams and curri- 
 cles that were stopping up the fronts of the mercer shops of that 
 beautiful thoroughfare. As we had a semi-inclination to ascer- 
 tain what distance the fellow would take us out of the way, and 
 at the same time retaining no positive recollection of ever hav- 
 ing been taken for a verdant one before, joined with a desire to 
 inform our compatriot of the modes of defrauding strangers, we 
 resolved, as the boys say, to " sec it out," and patiently awaited 
 his next move. Wo soon gained Tottenham Court Road, 
 through which we were idly dragged to Bedford Square, and, 
 to make a long story short, in the end we found ourselves again 
 at the Regent's Circus, in the proper line for Bayswater. This 
 was such a gross insult, even to our presumed ignorance, that 
 on arriving again at the Circus we ordered a halt. . 
 
 w How is this, driver ?" asked we ; " this is twice we've been 
 at this place. This is going it too strong. What do you mean, 
 sirrah ?" 
 
 " Twice here !" said the sneak, his eyes turned upwards, and 
 affecting to utter a laugh of derision. " Vy, bless your soul, 
 you never vas so mistaken in your life. There's two places just 
 alike, and this is the second von. Vy you must be strangers in 
 the city." 
 
 Taken aback by this master-stroke of audacity, we once more 
 sank into the cab, resolved that after we had finished our jaunt 
 we would pay him off in his own coin. In another fifteen min- 
 utes the vehicle stood in front of our lodgings. 
 
 Descending, Jonathan was diving to the bottom of an old 
 blue stocking, which served as a purse, and vainly endeavouring 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 43 
 
 to fish from somewhere in the neighborhood of the toes the six 
 shillings, demanded, in the first instance, by the driver. 
 
 "We motioned our friend to put up his stocking, which he did, 
 laying it carefully in his hat. 
 
 " Bad place to carry money," said we apart. 
 
 " O no, sir, I'm as keerful as ken be. Ain't as keerful as poor 
 old Betsy Sammons of Piscataqua though ; she's never had but 
 one five-dollar gold piece in her life, and she's so afraid some- 
 body '11 take it from her, that she sleeps with it in her mouth." 
 
 " Fare, gen'lm'n, please," said the cabman, impatiently. " It's 
 a long way up here, and my stand's down at Woodford, you 
 see." 
 
 " Young jnan," said we sturdily, " descend from that box." 
 
 "Sir?" ^> 
 
 " Get down — I want to have a moment's private conversation 
 with you." 
 
 a Yes, sir ;" and not suspecting what was in store for him, he 
 descended with wonderful alacrity. 
 
 " Now, sir," said we. 
 
 " Yes, sir !" — with a touch of the hat. 
 
 tt Do you know what I think of you ?" 
 
 Suspecting now, from our manner, that all was not right, he 
 assumed that air of insolent defiance, which only cabmen can 
 assume — it being a part and parcel of their avocation — and 
 said : — 
 
 " I don't care vot you thinks hof me ; I vants my fare." 
 
 " And what is your fare ?" 
 
 " Six shillins ; but as you seem scrusty I'll take five and 
 tup'ence" — twisting his little sneaking pigtail locks. 
 
 " Will you, indeed ?" 
 
 " Yes, master." 
 
 " Your legitimate fare is two shillings, but there's a half- 
 crown," and we proffered the coin ; at which he turned aside 
 and flicked a cork from the curb with his whip. 
 
 " Will you take it ?" 
 
 > 
 I 
 
 ! 
 I 
 
44 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " I vants five shillings. There now, master, it's a good long- 
 ish distance," said he, slightly softening his tone, which the dim 
 form of a policeman in the distance we found occasioned. 
 
 Then placing a quantity of silver in our hand, and extending 
 it towards him, we remarked, keeping one eye on the functionary 
 in blue and the other on the money — " Take your fare. You 
 know pretty nearly what it ought to be, so help yourself." And 
 glancing aside to ascertain the relative position of the policeman 
 with himself, who by this time was close to his elbow, Cabby 
 drew himself up, and with a contorted smirk of features dog- 
 gedly picked out two bright shillings, flicked his whip again, 
 and uttering something touching a u shabby do," in a snap- 
 pish half-suppressed tone, sneaked to his perch and turned 
 the head of his " steed" cityward grunting anathemas all the 
 while. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" fairly roared Jonathan, flouncing his 
 umbrella in the air, and dancing about the pavement ; " I'm 
 powerful glad you gave that feller as good as he sent. If I'd 
 been alone he'd a argu'd me out of six shilliu's juist as sure as 
 aiggs." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Jonathan's adventure at regent's-park. 
 
 As if good fortune had anticipated our wishes, we found a 
 cheerful fire crackling, with its merry torches of grotesque flame ; 
 and ere many moments had sped, our Yankee friend and self 
 were tete-d-tete before it. The first " demonstration" on his 
 part was to deposit his large bell-crown hat immediately on top 
 of the chiffonier, in doing which he upset an inkstand, and its 
 long black streams running playfully and innocently down upon 
 the carpet, settled into shining little pools, much to our silent 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 45 
 
 horror. This act unconsciously performed, he deposited his 
 feet on the back of the ottoman, resting the major part of his 
 body in an elbow-chair. The next " object of interest" that 
 greeted our bewildered sight was full two yards of pigtail 
 tobacco, which he slowly unwound from a cotton-reel, and then, 
 giving it a gentle shake, proceeded to wind it up again, first 
 diminishing its length by three and a-half inches, the result of 
 a single application to his dentals. We observed him looking 
 wistfully around the apartment for something in the vessel form, 
 and a spittoon soon made him comfortable on this score. 
 
 " I forgot to ask you, Mr. Homebread : how long have you 
 been in England ?" 
 
 " Let me see," replied he, hitching his odoriferous trowsers, 
 and gazing at a picture of Carlotta Grisi as " Giselle," over 
 the mantel-shelf. " By gravy, that's a smackin' poorty gal ! 
 who is she — some creeter of quality ?" and, arising, he spelled 
 the label. " Oh, a theatre woman ! Them theatre folks are 
 high critters, I'm told. I don't see how on earth they ever 
 git themselves intew sich laces and things. I should bust more 
 muzlin, if I wuz to dress up so, than ud fit up a store." Then, 
 Buddently remembering that we asked him a question, he conti- 
 nued, " Kailly I beg your pardon — you wanted to know how 
 long I'd been in England. Over three weeks." 
 
 " As long as that V said we* surprised. " Oh, I thought you 
 had but just arrived. You have been around to see the • lions,' 
 I suppose ?" 
 
 " Y-as, I calculate na-ow I hev a bit. Saw 'em the second 
 day I got here, at the wild-beast show in the Zully-ogical 
 Gardens at Regent's-park. Got a dreadful crowd of beasts 
 thar !" 
 
 It was evident that Jonathan was so pcrseveringly and 
 unaffectedly literal that we would have to shape our observa- 
 tions in accordance with his conception. He pursued the same 
 subject, and we did not care to interrupt him. 
 
 " I never seed sich a lot of tigera and nelephants and 
 
46 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 highekneez in all my born days. I used to think our travelling 
 caravans were ' considerable vegetables,' but they can't stand 
 up to the ruck with this — no ha-ow ? I got intew the monkey- 
 room, and thar I had a dreadful heap of fun with a big ape that 
 I fed with chesnuts. You see, I bought a penn'orth afore I 
 went in to feed the critters with, as I like to take notice of 
 dumb animals. "Well, this ape and me got tew bein' dreadful 
 thick, and he kept stuffin' his jaws so full that they bulged out 
 till I thought to Jehu they'd bust ! Then he made all kinds 
 of funny motions, and wanted more, so I gave a boy that was 
 standin' near me a half-crown — for I hadn't any smaller change, 
 tew go out an' git me another penn'orth of cheanuts. "Well, ef 
 I waited ten minutes, I must hev waited tew hours for that 
 dratted boy ; and may I be singed if I ever saw anything since 
 of either boy or half-crown tew this minit ! There was one 
 half-crown gone to nowhere at my expense; but as I got so 
 kind'le interested, somehow nor other, in that ape, 1 went out 
 myself determined to give him another good feed before I left. 
 I went out through the turn-around kind o 1 gate, thiukiu' the 
 man id remember me ; and when I went to go back agin, doged 
 if I didn't have to pay another shillin'. 
 
 " Well, back I went, paid the shillin', and soon found my old 
 ape ; and if you'll bleve me, when he saw me comin', he riz 
 rite up on his hind-paws, and fairly lafFed like a human bein'. 
 Of course I 'predated this attachment ; and in a few minutes 
 I found he was so tame, he'd eat out of my fingers. Some 
 slick-looking chap, with a glass on his eye, come up, and said to 
 me, ' You better be careful what you are about, sir, or it'll nip 
 your fingers.' I turned around and said, 'I'm much obleeged 
 to yeou all the same ; but him and me understand each other 
 better than you think for. I been feeden' him these tew hours ; 
 and monkeys ar'nt as ungrateful as mankind.' Then he squint- 
 ed his eye at another gawky-looking chap in soldier' clothes, with 
 whiskers cut like mutton-chops, and, askin' me if I'd sell my 
 hat, they both went off laffin fit to kill themselves. What they 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 47 
 
 saw to laff about me, I can't say, for jist as if there was any 
 harm in feedin' a poor innocent ape. 
 
 " Well, as I was a sayin' jist now, Jacko (as I called him) 
 and me got shockin' confidental. I had given him the second 
 pen'orth of chesmits, and he kept teazin me for more ; so I got tew 
 stroken' him on the head and feelin' ov his tail. This I did for 
 a minnit or tew, when I saw him kind a' look at me savagerous, 
 and wink at a baboon ; but I thought he was jokin' with me ; 
 and jist as I was reachin' over tew git a bit of chesnut which 
 had fallen in the straw, may I go to kingdom come backwards 
 ef he didn't make a dig at me and jerk me by this mole (point- 
 ing to his nose), and there held me while he pulled my hair with 
 the other. 
 
 " Jehosophat ! didn't I scream ! I thought I felt my noso 
 and face partin' company ; and as for my hair, the cussed brute 
 must have taken enough to make a mustach ! My hat dropped 
 off, and lookin' around I saw about fifty people all a-lamn at me 
 as hard as they could, includin' that slick chap with the glass, 
 and his lobster-lookin' friend with the mutton-chop whiskers. 
 If ever I felt like the little end of nothin' whittled down tew 
 a pint, I did then. I seized my umbrella, and shovin' it 
 through the bars, determined I'd give the ungrateful varmint 
 a poke anyhow. It jerked, twisted, and then jumped from one 
 side of the cage to the other ; then it twisted its chain, and 
 squealed like a stuck pig. This roused up a lot of little 
 monkeys that were huddled back in the cage which I didn't 
 notice; and, bouncin' about, they tew all joined in the squall. 
 Talk about the noise of Niagara falls on the Canada side, it's 
 perfect music to the yell them darn'd critters set up. In five 
 minutes' time every monkey in the room — an' thar wuz about 
 five hundred, counting quick, andjudgin' by the squeals — set 
 up their pipes tew, and then I thought the ceiiin' would come 
 down. Jist as I made a dig for the big ape, I happened to turn 
 around to see whether the people were skeert, when, may I 
 
48 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 never agin see New Hampshire, if the brute didn't jerk the 
 umbrella out of my hand and pull it bang intew the cage ! I 
 wish you'd a-heard them snort then; it wuz wus than the squeal 
 of the monkeys. One fat old woman with flounces had to be sup- 
 ported by the slick chap with the glass, and I heard half-a-dozen 
 articles of wearin' apparel crack and snap of I heard one. It 
 was death to tight trowscrs. 
 
 " Well, as I saw Mr. Ape wuz a-gittin' the best of the battle, 
 I thought I'd better beat a retreat ; but how to git my umbrella 
 I didn't know, and go without it I couldn't. Jist as I wuz 
 lookin' about me, a man — I s'posc the keeper of the cage — come 
 up, and told me I was causin' a great hubbub among the ani- 
 mals. The slick chap stopped up peart-like, and said he'd told 
 me to be kecrful, and repeated that I had caused an alarmin' 
 sensation among the moi keys. I eyed him from head to foot, 
 and his friend tew in the red, and said in as cuttin' a tone as I 
 could fetch up, ' Ya-as I have, and among the jackasses tew.' 
 This turned the snigger for a short spell on my sugar-candy 
 friends, and the man having coaxed the ungrateful old ape to 
 give up the umbrella — w rich it did with a handful of ugly grins 
 — I put it under my am , and tellin' the crowd I'd hcv revenge 
 out of that brute ef it cost me a lawsuit, I went oif in the 
 darndest huff I think I over got intew about a dumb animal." 
 
 " Really that was quite an adveuture," said we. Our friend's 
 broad unctuous manner was irresistibly droll, and we interrupted 
 his recital by frequent bursts of laughter. The portion of the 
 story relating to the exte isive mole on his nose we could readily 
 realize, as the excrescence formed a perfect handle to the dorio 
 formation it surmounted. "You'll never forget the Regent's 
 Park," remarked we, in ,he utmost solicitude for the safety of 
 an ebony ornament cunaingly wrought, which Jonathan had 
 taken from the mantel, a id to our horror was searching for his 
 pocket-knife. 
 
 " This appears to be all-nation hard wood — beats lignum 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 49 
 
 vitaa hollow," said he, bending his gaze curiously on it. In 
 another moment he was practically illustrating his remark by 
 an ; application of the knife to the ebony, which it stoutly re- 
 sisted. 
 
 " G-ood gracious, Mr. Homebred I" cried we, our fears mount- 
 ing the shoulders of our politeness ; " pray pardon me, but that 
 little memento — " 
 
 " I thought it wuz wood." 
 
 " It is ; and as a keepsake from a valued friend I prize it 
 highly; otherwise you might try your blade on it in wel- 
 come." 
 
 " Excuse me na-ow, wunt you ; but I thought it was a chunk 
 of nigger-lookin' bark. It's keyreous stuff, arn't it ? Tarnation 
 good for toothpicks, I reckon." 
 
 A considerable weight was removed from our apprehension 
 when Jonathan restored the ornament to its proper place, and 
 again assuming the same easy attitude as when we had opened 
 the conversation, he proceeded to recount another incident of 
 his London experience, to which we felt quite willing to listen. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Jonathan's donkey-ride on hamf-stead heath. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 " I allers laugh when I think of it ; and if I live tew be as 
 old as Methusalah — and he was so old, they dew say, he couldn't 
 recollect when he was born — I shall never forgit the day I hap- 
 pened to go donkey-ridin' at Hampstead Heath. It's a wicked 
 thing to say, but if I wuz in 'piscopalan mectm', and I should 
 i see myself straddlin' that dratted donk, I du bleve to Jerico 
 I'd hev to snort ! 
 
 " You see when I kern away from hum, thar wuz a good deal 
 
50 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 of bellowin' and cryin' 'mong the wiinmen-folks abeout my 
 crossin' the sea. Polly Peabody — a half-cousin to my adopted 
 uncle's mother-in-law, who lived at our house, like tew broke 
 her heart. Polly's got a heart as soft as a pullet's egg ; and 
 bein' a good hand at doin' little things abeout house, I took a 
 heap of notice of her, and used tew buy her spools of yaller 
 cotton and blue ribbuns every spell. As soon as she got wind 
 of my goin', she tied up her head in a red-speckled handker- 
 chief, and went round the farm makin' the tarnalist noises pr'aps 
 you ever heard. She said that I'd get wrecked, she know'd I 
 would, and cast away on some des'late island tew be food for 
 varmints ! She dreamt I would, and Polly Peabody'-s dreams 
 Avere looked up tu as ' monstrous true things,' no matter what 
 Deacon Helve said tew the contrary. I told her — sez I — ' Poll, 
 there's no use of ycour snifflin' abeout and makin' a walkin' 
 mizry of yourself. I'm goin' if it busts your gall — thar !' 
 Yeou see I had to be sharp, beka.se if I'd ever caved in once, 
 she'd never been satisfied till she'd druv the notion out of my 
 head. Yeou know what women are ! When she found that go 
 I would, and could see ' trip' written on my kountenance, she 
 kind o' pulled up the Btakes of her sorrow, an' reduced herself 
 to somethin' of a state of settlins. Poor tiling ! I kin see her 
 ne-ow, goin' abeout the house with her eyes as red as geranums, 
 and swelled up so you could jest see the shiny spots set in little 
 flesh hills of misery ! Bime-by these went down, and a day or 
 or two before I started she had conkered everything 'cept a 
 cut-glass bottle of smellin' salts that Aaron Crane gave her 
 when she was bridesmaid for Hester Mullet. Thinks I, old 
 Grief isn't a-going to hev a second crop ; so I vent'ered to ask 
 her tew take a walk with me in the corn-field, and I'd tell her 
 somethin' she'd p'raps like tu hear. She was all tip at once — 
 like a milk-weed, thinkin' I might hev changed my notion abeout ■ 
 goin' to England ; and not havin' filosophy enough to keep the 
 feelin' dark, her eyes got tew churnin' at once. * There,' said I, 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 51 
 
 1 there yeo-u go agin ! Ne-ow, Polly, what in the name of all 
 that's useful is the good of goin' on like this ? If ye-ow don't 
 stop it, I won't tell ye-ouwhat I wuz a-goin' tew.' You see I 
 had to du it, or she'd a-headed me off ! Women are sich key- 
 urious critters ! In five minutes her eyes were as ..dry as wheat- 
 bins agin, and puttin' her arms round my neck, with the feelins of 
 true lovte gushing threw her very fingers, she said she knew she 
 wuz a p-a-owerful weak creeter, but she meant it all for my good. 
 Thar ! What could I say ? for though a man may be as hard as 
 a grindstone, when sich talk as that is put tew him, he has to 
 crumble like old cheese. 
 
 " Well, we took a walk through the corn-field ; and I begun to 
 talk around the subject sum'mat, bekase I knew if I come bang 
 tew the pint another shower of tears would set in as sure as thar 
 wuz any eye-water left. At last said I, in jist as keerless a man- 
 ner as I could git together, havin' a passal of corn-leaves in my 
 hand, which I switched around abeout to keep the fles away, sez I 
 — ' Na-ow, Polly, you know I think a pizen sight of yeou, and ef 
 you'll name anything you want in London, with in reason, I'll 
 fetch it tew you, ef its in the power of money tew git it." 
 
 " This kind o' took her down, and brighten'en up like a May 
 mornin', every cloud rolled off of her face, and I swar to mankind 
 ef she didn't jump up tew my face and kiss me. { Jonathan !' she 
 roared, • You're tew good for this wicked world !' 
 
 " i I know that,' sez I ; c but what can I dew ?' and dog my cats 
 if she didn't kiss me agin. 
 
 " ' Hold on !' sez I. < Polly, you're a-goin' it a leetle tu strong 
 ef you are a relation, and then she stopped short, and wanted to 
 know what she should have. 
 
 " l Anything yon like, Polly,' said I. 
 
 " ' Dear me, what shall I hcv ?' said she. 
 
 " ' Jist whatever your fancy lights on ; ' said I. 
 
 " ' Well, I wunt hev a bead reticule,' said she, all in a quiver of 
 gladness. ' Hetty Rose has got one, and I don't want to be like 
 
52 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 her. I'd like a Poplin frock, but lawkes ! you'd git some noisy 
 pattern that would set th 3 naburs all tew talkin'. I'd like a pair 
 of kid gloves. ! crieketty !' 
 
 " l Kid gloves I wun: fetch,' sed I. You see I allers had a 
 Kind o' contempt for kid gloves ; and for a reason as long as 
 from here tew China, which I wunt stop to tell you. ' Kid 
 gloves aint in reason, Folly, its wicked to wear 'em \ so chuse 
 somethin' else.' 
 
 " ' Well, I tell yeou, then, what to bring me ef you don't git 
 shipwrecked' — and here a big tear peeped intew her eye. 
 
 " * Na-ow, Polly, don't make a — ' 
 
 11 Before I could git through she'd wiped it away. 
 
 " ' Don't scold me ; but bring me a red silk bonnet with an 
 ostridgc feat Iter, and I'll be the happiest girl in Barley Creek.' 
 
 " ' It's a go, Polly. I'll git the brightest red in London,' 
 said I ; ' and the plume shall be as white as snow. And before 
 this time five months you shall be the envy of the hull state. 
 Thar!* 
 
 " She thanked me ever so much ; and the first thing I thought 
 of when I came to Londo i was that red bonnet. I looked in the 
 store windows wherever I went, and though I saw a good many 
 gay bonnets, I couldn't ,-ee one red enough. Thinks I, all tew 
 myself, Polly took my leavin' so hard, I'll go the hull figure, and 
 git one that'll be so p-a-o verful red it'll send back a blush ontew 
 whoever looks at it. I looked and peaked abeout, up one street 
 and down another, but I couldn't come across quite what I want- 
 ed ; so in I goes tew a n illiner's store and struck a bargain with 
 the lady to make me one up tew order. She asked me how red I 
 wanted it. 
 
 " ' Wretched red,' said I. 
 
 "'Red isn't in fashbn,' said she. ' P'r'aps you'd better hev 
 pink.' 
 
 " < No,' said I ; « pink won't do. I want the fiercest, blazinest 
 red you can skeere up in this big teown.' 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 53 
 
 a Well, she said she'd make it of watered vermilion silk, or 
 something like that, and we closed terms. The feather and bon- 
 net was tew cost thirteen dollars, Yankee currency, to which I 
 subscribed, and marched off. 
 
 u Just a week after I called for it, as I 'greed tew do, and the la- 
 dy of the shop — who wuz a nice sort of body — wanted tew put it in 
 a bos and send it tew the hotel for me. * Never mind,' said I ; ' I 
 wont put you tew that trouble. Jist dew it up in a paper, and I'll 
 carry it myself.' She wrapped it up as neat as a pin in a copy of 
 the Times, and payin' her down the ' ready,' off I started agin as 
 happy as a clam in high- water, bekase I knew how set-up Poll 
 would be when she could once see herself in the glass with all that 
 red and feather on her head. 
 
 a Somehow or the other, while I was trapesin' along starin' 
 about, I see'd a 'bus go along labelled — hampstead, and hevin' 
 heeard a heap abeout Hampstead Heath, I thought I'd take a ride 
 eout and see it jist for a flyer. I stopped Mr. Buss, and got the 
 man that stands on the pee-rch behind tew hold on to the bonnet 
 while I dumb up. Talk abeout mountin' Lombardy poplars for 
 hawks' nests while sich things as 'busses exist ! There's nathin* 
 in natur' like 'busses and fire-escapes. 
 
 " l Fire ahead, naow, driver,' said I, arter I had squatted, 
 with one leg hangin' over the vehikle and got my bonnet safe on 
 my arm. 
 
 " ' Fire away !' but he didn't take any more notice of me than 
 if I hadn't spoke. I afterwards found out these fellows stand on 
 their dignity, unless you call 'em < coachmen' ; but before I'd 
 ha' violated my republican principle of speakin' the treutl|, I'd 
 seen him forty miles t'other side of the North Polo chawin' 
 ice-cikles. 
 
 " After stoppin' about twenty times, I guess, speakin' on a 
 mild average — we got eout tew Hampstead Hill and I walked up 
 tew the heath. Crab-apple blossoms and salad ile ! didn't I look 
 around and enjoy the sights. It was a splendid day; the sun 
 
54 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 was shinin' like a rory-bore-ealis ; and, ef I wanted tew be high- 
 flown, I might say I never saw natur' put on a more smilin' face 
 in the hull course of my life. I walked up and down the path- 
 way ; jerked off my hat ; took a big old chaw o' tabacco, and laid 
 back like a bird. There wuz London on one side, with its mob 
 of chemneys and steeples risin' themselves up like scare-crows 
 from a field of buckwheat ; on another side was a smooth view of 
 the most garden-lookin' ground I ever laid my two eyes on, with 
 the rows of hedges and hawthorn crossing each other as rigalar as 
 a copj'-book. On t'other side ran the heath, with the furze-tops, 
 as far as the eye could afford tew extend its knowledge ; while 
 away in the north rose Harrow-on-the-hill, seeniin' to overlook the 
 scene with as much dignity as a militia major on trainin' day. 
 Awful fine view, naow, or the subscriber wouldn't say so ! 
 
 u While I was sittin' on the fence, thiukin' what a great coun- 
 try this is, and whether oats had riz in New Hampshire — and, 
 in fact, a little bit of everything — a solid lookin' young man, 
 with a stick in his hand, come up to me and said, ' Hev a don- 
 key ride, sir? Capital flesh, sir.' 
 
 " Says I, ' No ; git eout with yeou and yeour donkeys tew. 
 When I condescend to throw my legs over boss meat, I gine- 
 rally prefer somethin' higher from the greound than a donkey.' 
 
 " ' Better hev a ride, sir,' says he ; • wholesome, sir, to have a 
 ride a day like this.' 
 
 " I thought he was quizzing 1 of me when he spoke of whole- 
 some, bekaase I flatter myself that, taken as a whole, I enjoy 
 more good health than any three men yeou can start. 
 
 " Says I, ' Git eout will yeou, or I'll appear tew you pugna- 
 ciously.' But butter me if the slink would move. 
 
 " ' Do hev a ride, sir ; it's only sixpence for an hour.' 
 
 " ''Go along, I tell yeou.' 
 
 "'You'd better.' 
 
 " ' Vam-ose !' 
 
 " ' Fine hanninial, sir — jist suited tew yeour figure, sir. Do 
 take a ride, sir.' 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 55 
 
 " I couldn't stand this any longer, so, junipin' down off the 
 fence, I shook the kink out of my neck, curled my eyes for him 
 and said — ' Naow look here, stranger, didn't I tell yeou I didn't 
 want to ride ?' 
 
 " ' Yes ; but the hannimal's ha hangel.' 
 
 "'Very well then, ef you don't git away in short order, I'll 
 make so free with yeour kountenance that yeour own animals 
 wont know yeou.' 
 
 " ' Now then ?' shreked he. 
 
 " ' Ya-as, it is now then,' said I. ' I wuz a-setten on the 
 fence as harmless as a caterpiller, and yeou must pester me 
 abeout yeour dratted donkeys. I don't want 'em — tkar /' 
 
 u <■ But, look a-here, master ; your ha stranger 'ere, and it's a 
 fine of two shillinks, payable tew the Dook of Hampstead, if 
 you don't encourage the donkeys. I tell you for your hown 
 good.' 
 
 " Yeou see I hadn't thought of anything abeout Dooks or sich 
 folks, and, not knowin' the laws of the ken'try, I though I 
 might get intew some sort of a reow ef I didn't ride. Says I, 
 
 " ' Is that the fact ?' 
 
 " \ Yes, master, hon my honour,' said he, touching his hat. 
 
 " ' Excuse me, but yeou needn't call me master; there's no 
 slaves in New Hampshire, nor hue nether, and I don't like it,' 
 says I. 
 
 " ' What shall I call you, sir ?' said he. 
 
 " Well, as he'd been se sa-sy abeout his cursed brutes, I didn't 
 care abeout givin' him pertickler satisfaction, and said, 
 
 " ' My name might be Jeemes Breown.' 
 
 " l 0, now then, Mr. Brown, hall hive got to say his, hif the 
 Dook of Hampstead should 'appen to come along, 'e'd fine me 
 for not 'avin' you hon the donkey afore this.' 
 
 " Well, as I thought the chap wuz tcllin' the trcuth, I went 
 over tew one side of the heath, where there wuz a long string of 
 the velvety-nosed sarpints tied tew a rail, and castin' my eye 
 
56 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 along at 'em, I had abeout ten of the tenders tackle me, each one 
 of 'em leadin' an animal. 
 
 " ' Look a-here !' I shouted ; f I can't ride but one. 
 
 " ' This is the von for your money,' said another feller, hittin' 
 the critter over the back with an ash stick to make him prance. 
 ' Wonderful breed — ' Finger-j'int,' out of l Kid-glove ;' bred in 
 a clover lot, and vonce howned by the Dook of Dilberry. AVo-e, 
 my man ! See how frisky 'e his.' 
 
 " Before I could get a word out edgeways, another lantern- 
 jawed, snaky-looking feller said, openin' the brute's mouth, and 
 showin' its teeth, 
 
 " f This is the one your 'eart bleeds for. Ilonly live pence a 
 hour — long time.' 
 
 " Another one hollered — > 
 
 " ' Here, guv'ner, is the vinner of the last Darby. Sticks 'is 
 toes in the hearth as if he vas too proud to tread it,' 
 
 "Still another said, leadin' an old, stubby, chuckle-headed, 
 shaggy specimen — so lanky and gray it looked as if it'd fall to 
 pieces if it wuz straddled — 
 
 u l Don't take any of 'em, but choose the ' Pride of the Harem' 
 as I 'olds in my ands. Show the gentleman 'ow you can throw 
 hup your legs. See that! "\V-o-a — there! I can't 'old her, 
 she's so firery. This is ' Ladybird,' the Queen's fav'rite. "\V-o-a V 
 
 " There was something so queer about the ' Pride of the 
 Harem,' for she had on blinkers and head-harness stuck full of 
 ribands, and her tail switched with sieh a melancholy motion, 
 that I kim tew the conclusion that if the law compelled me to 
 ride I'd go my ' Harem' before all the tothers. 
 
 u l How often do you curry this critter ?' I asked. 
 
 " ! Vonce a year, guv'ner. She's in delicate health, and can't 
 stand it," answered the owner. ' Lov'ly hanimal though for 
 hall that — came intew the vorld vith a cor'net, and '11 be buried 
 with honors.' 
 
 " l Shall I 'old your parcel vile you mount ?' said a shabby- 
 looking young man, with one of his eyes in mourning. 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 57 
 
 u I gave him the bonnet, with any quantity of charges tew be 
 keerful, and standin' with my legs stretched, I told the keeper 
 tew lead the donkey right under me, and in less than you could 
 say John Robinson backward, I wuz mounted, with my feet 
 touchin' the ground. 
 
 " Give me the bonnet,' said I; 
 
 " He handed it. 
 
 " ' Git along neow. Gee up !' But the critter was fixed as a 
 knot-hole. 
 
 " ' Here, guv'ner, here's a stick,' said the man. 
 
 " I took it and plied it over her back till the hollow sound went 
 boomin' over the heath, but chaw me if ' Harem' would budgo 
 an inch. 
 
 " The rival donkey-tenders stood areound me laffin fit to kill 
 themselves, flipin' the beasts with their whips to make them 
 fierce-like ; but all they'd do was tew kick and splunge till every- 
 thing areound seemed in motion. 
 
 " ' I'll lay a bob to a half-quartern she spills the gen'lman,' said 
 one behind me, just loud enough for me tew hear him. 
 
 " ' Vot a rum 'un ! She's full of fleas !' said another. 
 
 " ' Fleas ! I Vleve you. "Wuss than that — she's got the Prince 
 of Vales' fevor, and that's sudden death to whomever mounts 
 'er,' remarked another, in an off-handish tone. 
 
 " But you see by this time I'd begun to git my eyes open, and 
 were sum'mut posted on these tales, and turnin' round an' telling 
 'em it was all no good, for I'd picked eout my brute for the day, 
 they lead the donkeys back tow the rail, and so left me in my 
 Iglory. 
 
 " ' Neow,' said I tew myself, ' I'll bo transmogrified intew a 
 scorched monkey if I don't make this critter go. Git up ! 
 .Ge long thar !' But you might as well a coaxed an Izalite to 
 eat pork-lunch. It wuz no go ; an' for once old stubbornness 
 had brought me tew a stand-still. 
 
 " < Gi'e me tupence I'll lead her, master,' said a ragged wiry- 
 
58 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 lookin' boy, touching Lis cap, and seizing i Harem' by the" 
 rein. 
 
 " I 'felt in my trowser's pocket, and found that I hadn't but 
 three ha'pence in change, and throwin' that at the 'cuss he pulled 
 her head nearly out o' jint, and after pullin' abeout — well, I guess 
 a quarter of an hour — she had moved two foot and a-half, good 
 measure. 
 
 " ' Go behind and push her,' I suggested. 
 
 " He obeyed me, and in another quarter of an hour we had made 
 two more foot and a-half. All the time I was in a miz'rable 
 state for fear Poll's bonnet would git soiled, and I do b'leve tew, 
 Peru, if it hadn't been for that, I'd lost my temper, and jist 
 borne down hard on the beast, and squashed her tew a jelly. 
 
 " A half an-hour managed to crawl by, and thar wuz I, sittin' 
 like payshence on a what ye call 'em — only I didn't smile. The 
 blood of New Hampshire begun tew bile in my body, and brand- 
 ishin' the club abeout in the air, I let it drop on l Harem' till 
 she grunted agin. All at once she changed her mind, and start- 
 ed off. 
 
 " l Let her go,' hollered I to one of the boys who tried to head 
 her off. W-h-e-w ! 
 
 " I drew up my legs, and squeezed her areound the pod ; and if 
 any body had a-told me that that runty pinted little beast had so 
 much strength, I would have been apt to have suspected 'em of 
 telling what wuzn't 'zackly trew. Run ! By the great United 
 States — an' that's considerable — if it wuzn't enormous — ?icxt 
 tew a telegraph message on the wires, I do b'leve. 
 
 u I allers gave myself some credit for bein' a strong man till that 
 moment. I pulled and jerked — she kicked an' crashed — on-on- 
 on ; and while she wuz goin' as if old John Satan had hold of 
 her tail, to make matters wus, the dratted paper came unpinned, 
 and Poll's bonnet wur fiyin' and streamin' like a flag on 'lection f 
 day. Where tew put it I handn't the meanest idea ; an' as I 
 couldn't well du better, I clapped it on my head, an' then pre- 
 
 
JONATHAN HOMEBRED. 59 
 
 pared to fetch my l Harem' tew a stand-still. She seemed to 
 have been granted supernatural strength, for jist as I had laid 
 back, until my head wuz on a desperate line with her haunches, 
 an' had konquered sufficient tew get breath, may I be made 
 book-keeper tew a street-sweeping machine, if the ostridge fea- 
 ther did'nt blow slick over my eyes, and the next minnit I wuz 
 pitched head-foremost intew a clump of sharp furze-bushes. 
 
 " Je-ru-ssi-le??i / Did'nt I feel cheap ! You might ha' pur- 
 chased me for any moderate sum this side of a crooked copper. 
 To be thrown by a little stumpy appleheaded critter like that 
 were enough tew make your eyelashes frizzle with indignation. 
 I gathered myself up, brushed away the superfluous things that 
 had attached themselves tew me, turned the linty old hussy 
 around head foremost, an' welcomin' her back with a bang as 
 loud as a politician's promise, I fetched her sich a kick as she 
 won't git agin soon, unless New- Hampshire pegged boots go out 
 that way. She threw up her heels, piped a dreadful bray, some- 
 thin' like the noise of a confused earthquake, an' made for 
 home as if the " warnin' voice" of forty hay -mows had called 
 her. 
 
 " And Poll's bonnet, I forgot to tell yeou — I suppose you're 
 wonderin' in your mind whether I saved it. I kin tell you I 
 did'nt dew no sich thing. 
 
 '. " Mashed ! Well, I rather think it wuz. Poor Polly, she'll 
 have tew drink garlic tea tew support her spirits when I tell her 
 of it. It looked as if an elephant lead trod on it — it was as 
 flat as your hand ! 
 
 " Catch me ridin' donkeys again on Hampstead Heath, and tell 
 
 me of it, dew ! Dwindled specimens of hoss-flesh have gone 
 
 down forty per cent, in my esteem, and nothin' short of a geld- 
 
 . ing or bay mare a bushel of hands high can ever induce me to 
 
 make a letter A with my legs agin on this side of the salt sea.'' 
 
60 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 SNOW SCENES. 
 
 " Like sweet bellg."— Hamlet. 
 
 Jingle! jingle! jingle! — a flood of delicious melody is pour- 
 ed out from the tiukling of ten thousand bells. 
 
 But stop, we must offer a few words by way of explanation, 
 as we are not writing for American eyes, who understand our 
 caption, and call up a myriad of happy associations of fun and 
 love-making at its mere suggestiveness. England may boast of 
 her roast beef and plum-pudding luxuries, her coaches, 'busses, 
 " Hansoms, 1 ' her trips to Boulogne-sur-Mer, her sea-view at 
 Dover, t£te-d-tetes&i Cheltenham, and what not ; but the "mother 
 country" — as Brother Jonathan always calls her, like a dutiful 
 lad as he is — is most grievously in the dark as to one enjoyment, 
 that in our mind is the ultimatum of excursioning — sailing 
 through the air not excepted — we mean the sleigh rides of 
 America. 
 
 A snow scene is singularly beautiful. Every object — house- 
 tops, trees, shrubs, fences — in short, whatever goes to make up 
 the landscape, is enrobed in most exquisite white, and of such 
 purity and brightness, that it glares the eye to look at it steadily. 
 Then when the sun shines, the universal gleam reminds one of 
 a fairy grotto of enchanted isles actually turned out of doors to 
 delight and dazzle mortals. 
 
 Now comes a frost, and the snow is compact and brittle ; then 
 a slight rain settles it, and again a frost, and it is hard, solid, 
 crisp and unyielding, just in glorious order for sleighing. Now, 
 boys get out your "teams," and girls, wrap yourselves up in 
 
SNOW SCENES. 61 
 
 furs, boas and tippets ; we are going to have a ride. The moon 
 slimes clear to-night, the stars are twinkling, and the air is 
 steady and bracing. 
 
 Our first care is to have the horses rough-shod, that they 
 may speed like the wind, without fear of falling. Then over- 
 haul the sleighs, of which there are various patterns : here is 
 one in the shape of a swan, capable of holding ten couple ; an- 
 other fashioned like an antelope, with gilded runners ; another, 
 something like the car of Juggernaut, only not quite so enig- 
 matical ; still another in the shape of the American eagle, with 
 the gray pinions all complete, and spread to the breezes as if 
 preparatory to a flight, to perch again perchance on the temple 
 of Freedom. We will take none of these — they do not hold 
 sufficient ; but here is one, it will contain thirty persons, and 
 now we can, have a jolly merry-making to a certainty. It is 
 striped blue, with a red ground, and is no particular device, be- 
 yond that of a very comfortable band-box on an exaggerated 
 scale. Now we will have four fiery grays attached, each one 
 having a collar of silver bells around his neck, which, when they 
 are agitated, give out such a sound as make the heart leap and 
 the pulses dance the Cellarius. The driver — a huge fellow, 
 ivell practised in his art — mounts the box, wrapped in a bear- 
 skin coat, which only leaves his eyes and the smallest possible 
 :ip of a very red nose visible. He gives the whip a single 
 lourish — off we go — nags snorting, bells ringing, snow flying, 
 noon beaming, boys screaming, driver shouting — all life, fun, 
 ind vivacity ! Now we halt and get in the girls and the i: fel- 
 ows " (in America, on a winter night, the young men are al- 
 vays called fellows, which term melts, i. e., ends with the snow), 
 vho are as brisk as a hive of bees. The lasses are attired 
 varmly, with muffs and furs worked up in an undescribable 
 pmber of ways ; while the " fellows " are snug under the weight 
 if a museum of cuts and patterns in the way of Mammoth pale- 
 ots and overcoats. 
 Such chattering and struggling to get in front ! such merry 
 
62 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 peals of laughter, as the girls are absolutely stowed in ! u Set 
 thick," is the order of the night, as there must not be the hun- 
 dredth part of an inch of vacancy. And now the inquiry is 
 made " All right?" " Yes," screams the roguish voices of the 
 girls. " All right I" echo the men ; " Go along there !" shrieks 
 the driver, in a damp guttural, and away we all go. 
 
 We will suppose we are in Philadelphia, and near that famous 
 city of right angles is a town called Frankfort — not on the 
 Maine, but on the river Delaware. We will follow the sleigh- 
 ers, and see that they make a proper night of it. Well, off we 
 go to Frankfort, dash through toll-gates, and when we leave the 
 city — which looks, on the hill, as if it had a white veil thrown 
 over it, to hide it from the sweet silvery light of such a plump, 
 good-natured moon as never before shone — a song is proposed. 
 " What shall it be ?" inquires one. " A life on the ocean 
 wave !" suggests a sea captain, whose vessel being weather- 
 bound in port, happens to make one of the company. 
 
 " 0, sink the shop, captain !" says a waggish voice, " the 
 ocean wave is all frozen up. Let's have the sleigher's song — 
 'tis more apropos" 
 
 " Aye, aye, the sleigher's song !" shout a number of voices. 
 Instantly there is a harmonious or inharmonious mingling of 
 contralto, bass, soprano, and tenor. The words run — 
 
 " Hurrah for the snow ! the bright, bright enow ! 
 The bells are ringing merrily ; 
 Onward we glide right cheerily — 
 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah 
 
 " The moon is bright, and all is gladness, 
 We banish sorrow, care, and sadness ; 
 Our hearts are light, aod away we go, 
 To skim o'er the breast of the star-lit snow ! 
 Hurrah I Hurrah ! Hurrah !" 
 
 By this time we are in Frankfort, and seeking the " Jolly 
 Post," a famous hostelry, or road-side inn. We pull up, and 
 enter the " yard," where we all descend, and hurry to a recep- 
 tion room, where the girls hang their furs on the backs of the 
 chairs, and the " fellows " stamp the snow off their feet. . 
 
SNOW SCENES. 63 
 
 u Landlord, mull cider, Lot as an oven, all round I" 
 
 The mull cider is banded about with plates of miniature rout- 
 cakes ; and after the girls are refreshed with several introduc- 
 tions of this sort, with perhaps the addition of several " light 
 goes " of hot whisky punch, or mint juleps made warm, we all 
 ascend to the front room, which is brilliantly illuminated with 
 several regiments of awkward, solemn-looking wax candles, and 
 then behold an orchestra of fiddlers at the back ready for a 
 scrape. 
 
 Ah ! we are to have a quadrille. 
 
 We take our places, and soon the violins are performing a 
 perfect hurricane of allegrettos ; everybody is ready for action ; 
 and then such a quadrille is gone through as would put your 
 drawing-room or Almack soirees to the blush. The spirit of 
 the affair is plunged into with a zest that is visible in every 
 lineament of the countenance ; every curl quivers ; and such a 
 rustling of silks and satins would inspire Diogenes, and make 
 him kick his tub into the middle of next week. Then after, 
 as choice dictates, and the fiddlers are tractable, comes a country 
 dance, and a regular American " hoe down," which sits every 
 chord in the frame vibrating in unison with the melody ; and 
 now the girls feel tired, and down we go once more to the re- 
 ception-chamber, repeat the mull cider, the " fellows " seeking 
 the bar-room to enjoy a whiff of segar, and soon once more we 
 are on the road. 
 
 Crack goes the whip, and away prance the steeds over the 
 mantled earth, as if it were a pleasure to them to bound to the 
 music of the bells. Aye, the very horses seem by some mys- 
 terious instinct to comprehend the fun, and need no urging to 
 speed to the next goal of enjoyment. 
 
 Another ten miles is soon passed, and once more wo are un- 
 packed and refreshed in something the same manner — draughts, 
 rout-cakes, dancing, et cetera^ where a similar party are met, 
 and a grand union taking place, we " trip it on the light fantas- 
 
64 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 tic" with redoubled vigour. There is no end of the flirtations, 
 whispering, opening of motto-candies, snowballing, and putting 
 ice down your neighbour's back, causing the victim to shrug 
 with the frigidity of the favour. Then two waggish youngsters 
 are seen plying the driver with hot-toddy, and whispering con- 
 fidentially in his ear. He shakes his head with an air of 
 distrust — another hot draught disappears, still he shakes his 
 head ; presto ! a bright silver dollar is thrust into his hand, and 
 he says "all right" with so much earnestness, that the wags 
 smile knowingly in concert, and hurry off to look after the 
 sleighers. 
 
 " Turn the horses' heads homewards," is the order. 
 
 " What o'clock is it ?" asks the nautical gentleman. 
 
 " Past two," is the reply ; a tall, slim, young man in glasses 
 holding up his chronometer to catch a moon-ray in order to 
 decipher the face of his dial. 
 
 Out come the ladies, their faces much more crimsoned, and 
 their eyes several degrees brighter than when they embarked. 
 One by one they are handed in by the two young gentlemen, 
 who were in close confab with the driver, some of them de- 
 claring " that it is not a bit cold," others struck with the 
 excessive number of the stars, and not a few wishing it was not 
 yet so far gone in the morning. Several vow, by their fans, 
 that they could "dance all night till broad day-light;" and 
 perhaps there are one or two oldish creatures "praying good- 
 ness" — as the sex will do when they begin to border on the 
 thirties — that " they may be home before day-light shows itself, 
 as it looks so bad to be seen coming home in the morning." 
 
 Then comes the order of entertainments homeivard bound, 
 
 Mr. Green tells them a story of a sleigh-ride he had in St. 
 Petersburgh (Mr. Green is a great traveller, having been in his 
 time, although quite a young man, to England, France, Ger- 
 many, Austria, Russia, and Italy), which elicits the deepest 
 wonder among the girls, who look upon Mr. Green as a second 
 
SXOW SCENES. 65 
 
 Humboldt, or any other great adventurer who has visited 
 regions " far and wide," and opened the eyes of the world with 
 an octavo of travels in three volumes. 
 
 This through, Mr. Brown, or Black, or Gray, sings " Oft in 
 the Stilly Night," with as light tremor in his voice, which he 
 protests is occasioned by the cold, at which all of the ladies 
 laugh and charmingly assert not to believe it. Then somebody, 
 who wishes to surprise the company, suddenly fishes up from 
 the body of the sleigh a guitar, and accompanies himself in a 
 little barcarole or serenade, which it is impossible to hear for 
 the jingle of the bells — not only of their own but other sleighs 
 passing. This, soon pronounced de trap, is accordingly buried 
 in the bottom of the vehicle among the straw, with all the hon- 
 ours of sundry sly kicks and cuffs, which cause the strings to 
 snap in fine style. 
 
 The whole length of the road is skirted with immense mounds 
 of snow, caused by that feathery element drifting, as it fre- 
 quently does in America, giving the appearance of travelling a 
 road actually cut through a series of white mountains. The 
 old chorus " Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! for the snow !" is again 
 resumed, and just as the happy excursionists are straining their 
 lungs to drown the eternal chime of the bells clinking in all 
 directions, one of the aforementioned wags touches the driver 
 significantly on the toe — he perfectly comprehends — in a mo- 
 ment the nags are unmanageable — they plunge and clash, the 
 girls scream, the " fellows," with a great show of bravery, laugh ; 
 the sleigh is out of the beaten track, and close to a huge mound 
 of soft snow ; another shriek goes up — the very stars seem to 
 twinkle mischievously, and the next moment the sleigh is upset, 
 and the girls are rolling over and over into the snow, consider- 
 ably more frightened than hurt. 
 
 Here is a pretty how d'ye do — such a scene as we should like 
 to have some skilful comic limner embody. The " fellows" as- 
 sist the ladies to rise, some of them looking desperate at the 
 
66 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 driver, who forthwith is christened" a naughty, naughty man.' } 
 Others do not know now, as they are aware they are not hurt, 
 whether to treat the matter seriously or as a good joke. Howe- 
 ver, thinking it the wisest part to appear pleased, they soon 
 laugh it off, and declare that " it ivas capital fun, if the snow 
 had not been so cold." Others, more courageous, and greater 
 fun-lovers, would give the world to be served so again, if they 
 were not afraid of spoiling their clothes, and the men unani- 
 mously pronounce it the climax capped, with the exception of 
 the two young gentlemen more directly interested in the " spill," 
 who, in order to avoid suspicion, rate the driver soundly for his 
 awkward clumsiness, and threaten never to hire him again, at 
 the same time nudging him, and bidding him in a whisper, u not 
 to let on for the world, but say that the horses shied at something 
 black in the road. ' 
 
 Once more we are all ensconced without accident, unless it 
 be that one of the ladies has lost perhaps a link out of her ear- 
 drop, or snapped her silken watch-cord — we did hear something, 
 a familiar sound, just as the sleigh was toppling, and we sup- 
 posed it ivas a kiss ; but let that pass, there is no harm done, 
 and we are now nearly home. 
 
 We next inquire, in order, the residences of each of the ladies, 
 that we may drop them at their respective doors, and see them 
 safe home. One by one, or twain by twain, as the case may be, 
 as noiselessly as possible, so as not to disturb the old folks, the 
 belles are handed out and wished u good-night," until the sleigh 
 is emptied of the greater part of its burden; and then the 
 men, who it is presumed are chiefly unmarried, form what is 
 called a " bachelor party," and dash away entirely on their own 
 hook to the outskirts of the city, where after a mild banquet of 
 oysters roasted, and " waffles" — an indescribable winter-cake, 
 being a cross between a bun and a sallylunn — cigars are produc- 
 ed and enjoyed without reserve, the whole party returning as it 
 were in a whiff to their starting point, there to part for the 
 
SNOW SCENES. 67 
 
 night, all, we hope, delighted with their sleigh-ride. As spots 
 of gray must by this time be dappling the drowsy east, it is 
 fair to be presumed that all the sleighers have retired to rest ; 
 if they are not, they should be; so with orders to "put up" the 
 sleigh and take the bells off the horses, and see them in their 
 house, we will also bid the reader " good-night," or, more pro- 
 perly, " good-morning," with the assurance that we have en- 
 deavoured to give him, to the hurried best of our abilities, a 
 faithful account of an American sleigh-ride. 
 
68 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 LOOKING UP LODGINGS. 
 
 We bad strolled on cither side of Piccadilly, as far as Apsley 
 House (out of which the Iron Duke was passing, with a totter- 
 ing step), found our way through May Fair, and scanned at least 
 a dozen capriciously-christened terraces in Bayswater, and yet 
 could not see a solitary card witli those suggestive words, 
 " Lodgings for Single Gentlemen." Of cour.-o wo did not hope 
 to find idle apartments at the residence of the Duke, Cavendish 
 House, nor any of those great walled-in mansions that show their 
 protective fronts along Piccadilly; but it was not absurd to 
 suppose that in some of the windings through which we passed 
 at least one fair housekeeper would have felt disposed to " share 
 her cottage" with a stranger of moderate income. 
 
 "We got back into Regent-street, stopped in front of a picture- 
 shop window, and gazed listlessly at a crayon sketch of the head 
 of a Madonna until we fancied we could see love-sparks dart 
 from the dove-like eyes of the print, when we rallied and brought 
 our mind to bear on the facts of our mission. 
 
 Our heart, with crimson confidence, asked our head a ques- 
 tion — 
 
 " What do you wish ?" 
 
 u Lodgings," promptly returned our head. 
 
 " Then look for them, and don't stand idling your time and 
 endanger me with yonder picture." 
 
 After this, pulsation became natural, and our scattered senses 
 were garnered and ready to obey the will. 
 
 u Lodgings ! Yes, that's the question. Where shall we go ? 
 
LOOKING UP LODGINGS. 69 
 
 Regent's Park is an airy locality, and easy of access. Kentish 
 Town is too far off; and, besides, one must pass through that 
 terrible wilderness of cheap shops, Tottenham Court-road. 
 Hoxton is a nuisance; and Pimlico as yet unsettled. Ken- 
 nington Oval is retired, but a bridge must be crossed; and to 
 see St. Paul's twice a day, scowling upon its concomitant brick 
 and mortar, is dreadful. Over the Thames will not answer, so 
 on to Regent's Park." 
 
 A cab soon set us down at the " York and Albany," and we 
 prepared to lounge through the Park Villages. We were in a 
 world of villas, places, crescents, and cottages, and, better still, 
 many neat printed labels informed the passer-by that the inmates 
 had no objection to divide the house, if early application were 
 made. 
 
 " Rosebud Cottage" — a pretty name certainly, but the apart- 
 ments were unfurnished, and that would not do. The next card 
 was idly suspended in " Orient Villa." It was what enthusi- 
 astic young ladies would call a " love of a place," with the 
 greenest of window-blinds, and a plate on the door as bright as 
 the koh-i-noor. We knocked, and a smart Abigail made her 
 appearance. 
 
 " I see you have apartments." And we affected to look indif- 
 ferent. 
 
 We were ushered into the parlour, and in less than ten min* 
 utes by a remarkable slow watch, a young lady, with every in- 
 dication of a hasty toilet — for the powder was awkwardly and 
 effectively distributed on her countenance — glided into the 
 room. 
 
 We did a bow. She dropped a curtsey. 
 
 " You have called to see the apartments, I presume," she 
 remarked. ' : They consist of a first-floor drawing-room and 
 | three bed-rooms. Perhaps you will walk up and see them? 
 They're not in good order to-day, fur the family we had — a Cap- 
 tain Epplelet of the c Blues' — only left yesterday." 
 
70 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact that all landladies' have just parted 
 with their lodgers, who, by some miraculous coincideuce, seem 
 to have been either military men or young noblemen of broken 
 fortunes. 
 
 " I'm sure the drawing-room will please you, and two of the 
 bed-rooms overlook the Park most delightfully. Captain 
 Epplelet used to say the breeze was charming. He was very 
 sorry to leave us. In fact, I thought his eldest daughter, 
 Matilda, would have broken her heart the day they moved?' 1 
 
 We saw she was forgetting herself, and, not caring to remind 
 her that the family had only left the day before, merely remarked, 
 " Poor thing !" and declined instituting any examination, as we 
 had only desired a drawing-room, with sleeping and dressing 
 apartments contiguous. 
 
 lt We can't let the rooms separate, I'm sorry to say," she con- 
 tinued, " for more than one family in a house gets to be a trou- 
 ble. There was a stout gentleman here this morning from 
 America, a stock-broker, I think, somewhere at the West-end, 
 who was very much pleased with them ; and if it had'nt been 
 for the rent, I think he would have taken possession at once." 
 
 " What was the price ?" 
 
 " Nine guineas per week, and dirt-cheap at that. 
 
 Our conversation, after this last stroke, was vividly brief, 
 and we were once more on the trottoir. Nine guineas, indeed ! 
 was the woman out of her senses ? One could have blue plush 
 in a fashionable square at half the sum. We walked on, and 
 the next pasteboard annunciation swung carelessly from a fuch- 
 sia-branch in a bay-window. Rat-tat-tat-tat ! went the knocker, 
 for there was no bell. An " elderly young lady," of the spinster 
 breed — with a high forehead and a shower of short, crisp, cork- 
 screw curls raining around her occiput — gave vent to a saluta- 
 tion, and we entered the hall. 
 
 " Apartments, sir ?" she asked, 
 
 " Yes — " and we paused. Was it Miss or Madam ? The 
 
LOOKING UP LODGINGS. 71 
 
 chances were in favour of the former, so we gave her the benefit 
 of the doubt, and swallowed the signification. 
 
 " Walk up-stairs, sir." 
 
 "We were conducted into a drawing-room, carelessly appointed 
 with what seemed to be long-used furniture. A cottage piano, 
 centre table, lounge, Canterbury chifFonnier, and chairs, com- 
 prised the set-out. 
 
 li You must excuse the room ; it's all upside down" — the old 
 story — " for we're just making some important alterations and 
 additions to the house." 
 
 " Pray make no apologies," said we, looking at a plaster-of- 
 Paris Cicero on "the mantel-shelf, with his nose broken. "What 
 apartments have you ?" 
 
 " This drawing-room and a bed-chamber. We've had the 
 Mooney family living with us the past three years, and they 
 would be with us still but for young Mr. Mooney ; the son's 
 getting an idea into his head that he must go to Australia. 
 You've doubtless heard of the Mooneys of Bond-street ? The 
 family we had with us were near relatives." 
 
 The conclusory portion of this remark was embroidered with 
 what old lexicographer Johnson would have growlingly called a 
 " damnable double knock," that caused our companion to shud- 
 der for a moment like a water-lily in a tempest. 
 
 " Dear me ! what can that be ?" remarked she, with a long- 
 waistcd, maidenly sigh. " Who dares to knock in that coster- 
 monger manner ? It is shocking, I declare." And her little 
 corkscrew curls twisted themselves a degree tighter in the in- 
 tensity of her emotion. 
 
 We heard the rich, pristine voice of an Irish servant, below, 
 say to the applicant, whoever she was — 
 
 " Will you be plazed to walk up. missus ?'' And before an 
 expert market-gardener's wife could have shelled three early-pea 
 pods there appeared over the balustrades, like the moon rising 
 behind a cloud, the ample crimson face of a massive elderly 
 
72 DASHES OF AMERICAN HU.MOR. 
 
 woman, dressed semi-genteel, with a prodigious array of flounces, 
 and three young children — one very lank, and two extremely 
 chubby — clinging nervously to her frock-skirts. In another 
 moment she entered the room, and the children seemed to dis- 
 appear in the folds of her flounces, as gnomes do through "flats " 
 in fairy pieces. 
 
 The two ladies interchanged address, and we placidly backed 
 into the music-stool, and managed — by twiddling the fringe, 
 noticing the position of the key of D in the scale, and confusedly 
 exerting ourselves to translate the title of a Polish ballad that 
 ended in "ski," and which was adorned with a picture of a 
 heavy snow-storm, that looked like an extravagant shower of 
 plumes doing an agitated minuet — to cool and gratify a red-hot 
 landscape — by these gentle means to occupy the moments. 
 
 " I've been recommended here by a friend in Eaton-square to 
 look after apartments/' said the new-comer, puffing very much, 
 and by an instinctive waggle shaking the children out of their 
 hiding-place. " Do excuse me, I must sit down ; I've walked 
 all the way from the ' York and Albany,' and am almost 
 done up." 
 
 We were the happy medium of introducing a chair to the 
 lady, and she ensconced. 
 
 " Come here, Sacchy, this moment/' exclaimed the lady ; 
 " why will you annoy your grandmamma when she's so warm ;" 
 and the next sound was the unexpected crash of poor Cicero's 
 head against the fire grate. Sacchy, as she was called, was the 
 eldest of the three " hopefuls," and in passing over to the chair, 
 she had stopped to put her little fat finger on the broken nose 
 of the inanimate orator, which resulted in the fall aforesaid. 
 
 " Good gracious ! ; ' screamed the lady of the house ; " my 
 Cicero broken ! It was a parting present from the Mooney's, 
 and I valued it beyond all price." 
 
 " How very unfortunate !" soothingly observed the grand- 
 mamma of the young delinquent. " Did anybody ever hear of 
 
LOOKING UP LODGINGS. 73 
 
 such a calamity ! you naughty, naughty Sacchy — how can 
 you be for ever in mischief?" and she strained her eyes to such 
 a terrible size, and looked so meaningly at the child, as to cause 
 the little thing to burst into a loud shrill cry, in which the 
 other two joined. 
 
 We felt a waggish desire to touch the piano lightly, for the 
 purpose of making an accompaniment dehcatto to the squall, 
 but the position of matters would not warrant such a vagary ; 
 and we could only contrast the quality of the sobs, and count 
 the tears as they crept sorrowfully along the little pug noses of 
 the juveniles. The lank one, who was a boy just out of pina- 
 fores, resembled a lollypop in long hose more than a Christian, 
 and if there could have been estimated any difference in the 
 strength of organs we should have awarded the superiority to 
 the young masculine — it was a sort of bass cry, with staccato 
 spasms of a most peremptory character. 
 
 Order at length restored, the conversation was resumed. 
 
 "In regard to the apartments, Miss" — and the old lady re- 
 ferred to a card — u Miss Nibbles, that's the name, I believe ?'* 
 
 The other inclined her head, and adjusted one of the short 
 curls thereupon simultaneously. 
 
 li Who did you require apartments for ? This gentleman 
 here has called on the same errand," remarked Miss Nibbles. 
 
 " For myself and these dear things," said the old lady point- 
 ing to the little ones, who were now sniffling at a great rate, 
 with very red eyes. " They are grandchildren left to my care. 
 Their mother, my poor daughter, died only six months after 
 Julius, there, was born ; and it is now my duty to look after 
 and protect them." 
 
 " I'm very sorry to tell you," said Miss Nibbles, in a soft 
 note-paper sort of tone, " that we don't take children ; we find 
 them so very troublesome at this season of the year." 
 
 "Don't take children!" and she repeated the exclamation 
 with a hauteur most lofty. " And pray, Miss, what earthly 
 
74 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 objection can any reasonable being urge against three pretty 
 little dears like these, I should like to know ?" — and once 
 on her feet, the children, with the promptitude of un- 
 fledged birdlings, half disappeared among the flounces as 
 before. 
 
 " I've no objections against those particular children, but all 
 children, and young children especially," reasoned Miss Nibbles, 
 mildly : " you must know yourself, Madame, how inconvenient 
 they are — young people ivill be young people, the world over," 
 and she cast a mournful look at the fragments of Cicero among 
 the silver hearth shavings, which the old lady did not fail to 
 observe. 
 
 " I suppose you allude to the broken-nosed man that was on 
 the mantel," exclaimed she with a sharpness of manner, and 
 producing a huge fan, which she swung to and fro with remark- 
 able energy; " that was pure accident ; but don't suppose for a 
 momenl I want to forget it — oh no ! I've a pair of KossutKfl 
 and a bust of Scott at home, that you can take your pick of, if 
 it comes to that." 
 
 " You wrong me, Madame," remarked Miss Nibbles calmly, 
 u I was not thinking of poor dear Cicero, although it was a gift 
 from the Mooneys. As for the Scott, and the pair of other 
 gentlemen you mentioned. I've no wish for them," and witli a 
 serenity of face actually prodigious under the circumstances, she 
 rang the bell. 
 
 " Tut, tut ! Miss, I don't go about breaking other people's 
 furniture without paying for it" — and, if it were possible, the 
 crimson of her physiognomy grew even deeper than before. " I 
 suppose you take me for a mere speculating apartment-hunter, 
 bu*t I'll prove to you I'm no such thing. There, Miss Nib- 
 bl-es, there," and she grandly threw upon the table a half-crown, 
 as she sujyposed, but which turned out to be, in her confusion, a 
 smooth penny. The awkward discovery of this mistake some- 
 what unstarched her dignity, and she thumbed her long crochet 
 
LOOKING UP LODGINGS. 75 
 
 purse with a nervousness quite exquisite to the short curls on 
 the opposition side. 
 
 " Well, that's very odd, I declare," said she, turning the 
 purse inside out, and beating it against the fan. " Could I 
 have given a half-crown to that rascally conductor ? Come 
 here, Julius, — where are you ?" — and she drew him out from the 
 balzorine — " Didn't I give you a penny in the 'bus ?"" 
 
 " No, grandmamma, it was an 'alf-crown," squeaked the child. 
 
 " Good gracious, Julius, why didn't you instantly hand it 
 back to your dear grandmama ? — naughty boy, let me have it 
 this moment." 
 
 The youngster, instead of obeying, sculkea back to his mus- 
 lin retreat, and a ventriloquial sniffle was all that could be 
 traced of him. 
 
 " Come, Julius, dear, let me have it, like a good child ; 
 and you shall go and see the otters dive at Regent's Park — 
 that's a good boy," and by an ingenious personal wabble she 
 again brought him to light, in a posture as pitiful as could be 
 well divined. 
 
 " Come, Julius, love, hand it to grandymamma." 
 
 " N-o !" blubbered the boy. 
 
 " Pleasy, like a dear," and turning round to Miss Nibbles, 
 she remarked, " He's very delicate, and must be humoured." 
 
 " I want ;t for brandy-bails, please grandmamma," responded 
 he, clutching the coin in his tiny pocket, and staring at the pic- 
 torial snow-storm on the pianoforte. " — o — o — B — o — o !" 
 
 A series of coaxing was found of no avail, and in the end 
 the lad was prostrated on the floor, and while his sisters held 
 his hands, the old lady wrested the coin from his tiny fingers. 
 Kicks, struggles, sobs, despoiled frills, and groans, were blend- 
 ed in one exhilarating i^ot-pouri. Miss Nibbles seemed shocked 
 half out of her senses at such a scene in her drawing-room, and 
 the scattered ballads in the Canterbury seemed to sing their 
 own tunes in the melee. 
 
76 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 As we remarked, the untimely discovery of the half-crown 
 had thrown the large lady off her stilts, for the time being ; but 
 the dignity found its way back with the silver, and casting a 
 withering frown at Miss Nibbles, which caused the young lady 
 to start back a pace with fear, she threw the coin upon the pia- 
 no, exclaiming, " There, Miss, I trust you Fee I've paid, and 
 well too, for the broken man on your mantel ;" and uttering a 
 sort of domestic cluck, the children surrounded her — the mas- 
 culine distilling tears a la Knarcsborough. She flounced out 
 of the apartment, down the stairs, through tho hall, and giving 
 the door a barbarous slam, soon disappeared among the copso 
 of the park. 
 
 "Most singular female that," remarked Miss Nibbles, when 
 the color got back to her cheeks. u Without scandal, I might 
 term her a perfect monster." 
 
 u Motherly, but proud," we remarked. 
 
 "Proud! I like to see proper pride, but this is out of all 
 character;" and instinctively, as it were, MissNibbles serenely 
 took possession of the half-crown, and again gazed upon tho 
 fragmentary Cicero with a sigh. 
 
 "We found time was on the wing, and a peep at our watch 
 brought Miss Nibbles back to the notice of our call. 
 
 " Really, sir, I owe you ten thousand apologies for keeping 
 you m this manner ; that horrid creature drove the apartments 
 out of my mind. Perhaps you will step in and sec the bed- 
 room." 
 
 We did so. The chamber was srell furnished with number- 
 less specimens of crochet impossibilities on the chairs, and va- 
 rious pictures of still life about the walls. The bedstead, 
 wide and comfortable, stood soberly on its posts, and pleased us. 
 It looked like a bed that had arrived at the years of calm 
 discretion. 
 
 We re-entered the drawing-room. Miss Nibbles playfully 
 touched Gr. as she passed the piano, and gave the red curtains a 
 
LOOKING UP LODGINGS. 77 
 
 poke that induced a little shower of dust to descend from the 
 gilt cornices, and alight on her row of curls. Foolish maiden ! 
 
 a You must excuse the drawing-room," urged she, smilingly ; 
 " it's all in the rumples ; but when we get in the new sofas, and 
 the curtains to match the chairs, I think we shall be all right 
 again." 
 
 a Curtains to match the chairs ?" repeated we, interrogatively ; 
 " do you intend going to that expense ?" 
 
 11 Oh, yes, sir; we've ordered them of Drape, of Regent 
 street ; and we'll have the piano tuned — by-the-way, sir, do you 
 play?" 
 
 " Umph ! slightly. Can manage to thump a strumming ac- 
 companiment to \ Young Agnes,' and one of Balfe's ballads." 
 
 " Ah ! you gentlemen can always do better than you say." 
 
 " And some say better than they do : that's my case." 
 
 " 0, sir !" and she seemed to be tracing a figure on her apron 
 that resembled at a glance one of the ruined columns of Nett- 
 ley Abbey. 
 
 li Now as to price — that's the grand point." 
 
 She named the sum. 
 
 " And you'll have the piano tuned, and curtains to match the 
 chairs ? This last seems highly important — in fact, I may say, 
 that would alone induce me to take the apartments." 
 
 " I find* you are particular, sir." 
 
 " Not at all ; but when curtains match the chairs, it isprima 
 facie evidence that one will be comfortable." 
 
 " La ! Sir, what a funny thing !" said Miss Nibbles, and her 
 face wore the confused aspect that it will when the ' spirit wi- 
 thin' is more or less puzzled as to whether it ought to be gay or 
 serious. 
 
 We continued. 
 
 " 0, yes, there is no question in my mind as to that. "We all 
 have our crotchets. Montaigne loved tom-cats; Maximilian 
 would not sleep on a couch unless stuffed with roses" — 
 
78 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Is it possible ! Did any one ever hear of such extrava- 
 gance !" interrupted she. 
 
 " Henry the Eighth had his queer notions — those I wont 
 mention ; Marc Antony actually had a pet tiger ; and Izaak 
 Walton admired grubwornis.. Is it singular, therefore, that I 
 should prefer to have the curtains of my drawing-room match 
 the chairs ? I ask you, Miss "Nibbles, on reflection, is it 1 V 
 and for once in our life we looked a mixture of mclo-dramatic 
 seriousness and intention. 
 
 Poor Miss Nibbles ! She seemed bewildered ; her eyes rolled 
 and wandered from one object to another, and she at length ex- 
 claimed — 
 
 " It is not, sir ; it is all very natural !" 
 
 " I'm glad you admit it," continued we. It shows taste, 
 judgment, tact, discretion ! Consider the apartments mine from 
 Monday next (it was then Thursday), and by all means let the 
 curtains match the chairs." 
 
 In less than a week we directed our letters from " Butterfly 
 Villa, Park Village East, Regent's Park," and our hostess had 
 prepared every appointment entirely to our taste. 
 
79 
 
 NEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR PANTALOONS 
 UNDER YOUR PILLOW. 
 
 Thanksgiving day in New England is the signal for pies and 
 piety ; that is to say, church in the morning and a glorious din- 
 ner in the afternoon. Some of the old stock go so far as not 
 only to set it aside as a grand occasion of prayer and provender, 
 but also make presents and bestow trifles by way of remem- 
 brancers. These interchanges of home-sentiment work vast 
 benefits in the end, and go a great way towards cementing the 
 bonds of friendship and kindred. Every member of the family 
 on this day is expected to meet over drink and platter, and the 
 [ union is always attended with beneficial results. The day after 
 j thanksgiving finds New England minus of many tens of thou- 
 sands of turkies and whole oceans of apple sauce ; but the uni- 
 versal demolition is in a glorious cause ; so, as Sylvester Gra- 
 ham says, the country is not a bit the worse off for the special 
 consumption. 
 
 Old Aunt Eliza Lovejoy, as her friends delight to call her — 
 for she is such a sweet, kind-hearted, domestic little bunch of a 
 body — one or two thanksgivings ago presented her husband, 
 Uncle Abel Lovejoy, with a pair of drab trowsers as her " season 
 gift," with the special charge that, he was to take a great deal 
 of pains with them — only wear them on holidays ; and, in short, 
 prize them as highly as if they were some valuable old heir-loom 
 which could never be replaced. Aunt Eliza belonged to the 
 Society of Friends, and, though a strict meeting-goer, she was 
 once in a while as fond of a little pleasantry as most people, 
 
80 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 and did not permit conventional stiffness to run away with her 
 spirits. 
 
 "Neow, Abell," the old woman said, looking as neat as a new 
 pin in her old-fashioned plum-silk gown, with a three-cornered 
 white kerchief thrown like a snowflake over her shoulders, " I'll 
 give thee nuthin' this year but these drabs, an' may they dew 
 thee much sarvice." 
 
 " Thank you, Aunt 'Liza," responded Abel. lie, like every- 
 body else, called his wife aunt, " Thee is very kind, an' I'll 
 treasure them as I would ' th' richest' robe King Harry ever 
 threw 'round his back,'' and the old man imprinted an honest 
 kiss on the good-humoured, genial cheek of his dutiful wife. 
 
 The next sabbath Uncle Abel assumed his ".drabs,' 1 just to 
 see how they would look. lie was not actuated by a worldly 
 feeling of ostentation, but rather a pleasant desire to gratify the 
 wishes of his wife. He did not give his mind to mode in any 
 degree, but if he was comfortable his highest wish was attained. 
 Habited in a long blue coat with full skirts, rough broad-brim- 
 med beaver, creamed-coloored vest, with buttons to match, and 
 his new trowsers, he walked with Aunt Eliza, who was all prim- 
 Mid plum color, except her bonnet, which was several .- 1 
 smarter, and a happier, more contented, unassuming couple per- 
 haps the sun never shone on. The town-folks all saw that the 
 worthy man had on something new. Some said it was his hat, 
 others his vest, and the more observant declared it was the 
 trowsers. The gossips even discussed the matter under the very 
 wig of the parson, and one idle young minx whispered confiden- 
 tially to a pew full of girls that the recent article was his neck- 
 cloth, " for she had heard Aunt 'Liza say it cost fifty cents in 
 IBrattleboro'." the artful young puss, to breed such a fib 
 against her father's respected neighbour. Uncle Abel was of 
 just such an innocent turn of mind that if he had ever dreamed 
 his new garment would have given rise to even so much as a 
 quibble he would never have let it be seen for the world. As it 
 
NEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR PANTALOONS UNDER YOUR. PILLOW. 81 
 
 was, however, he unconsciously caused an incredible amount of 
 gossip, which, like the Fountain of Naair, exhausted itself as 
 soon as a new subject came up. 
 
 An important business engagement called Uncle Abel to the 
 city of Boston, which, although it bears the reputation of being 
 a quiet, order-loving, and high-toned city, like all dominions of 
 bricks and mortar, contains a large alloy of sharpness and its 
 grand-parent rascality. 
 
 Consequent upon the departure of the worthy man no small 
 measure of bustle and concern was displayed by his wife. Her 
 little blue eyes actually swam in a river of good nature, and 
 more expressions of honest goodness fell from her tongue while 
 she rattled about the house than ordinary folks would have 
 spoken in a life-time. The old man had been deputed by several 
 friends to pay a large sum of money to creditors in the city of 
 Boston, and as he wished patriotically to once more see the city 
 where the monument of Bunker Hill so beautifully rears its 
 white and solemn head, he undertook the journey with a glow of 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Heow long du yeou think thee'll be ?" remarked Aunt 'Liza, 
 with her arms in the dough-trough, and the queer little necks of 
 incipient pastry clinging to ber red elbows. " xsot long, I dew 
 treust and pray." 
 
 " Let me see," calculated Abel, u it'll take me five hours tew 
 git tu Springfield, one more to Deerfield, and three from thar to 
 Bostmg; that's altogether nine hours' hard ridin'. Well Til du 
 the bis'ncss thar in abeout — in all, I guess, abeout twenty -four 
 more, an' then nine hours' back, countin' a little fur stoppin' an' 
 one thing an* another. So I reckon, takin' things intew con- 
 sideration, I'll bo abeout tew days, cf nothin' happens an' I hev 
 luck." 
 
 '• You'll hev to sleep in that wicked place all night, wunt thee 
 Abell ?" 
 
 " Ya-as, I reckon I will." 
 
82 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR.' 
 
 " Oli, massy saikes, Bosting is a dreedful woe-begone placo 
 'cordin' to all I hear. Elder Peagreeu wus sayin' only yistcr- 
 day, when thee'd gone tu mill, that he read in the Grape-root 
 Journal and Milkweed Gazette that a man had been 'sasinated 
 in broad daylight on Bostin' Common, jist bekaase he had a 
 silver watch in his pock-it. What is this wourld coniin' tew I 
 should like to know ?" 
 
 Uncle Abel shook his head with a sorrowful aspect of coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " Why, Abel, neow I look, thee's got on thy new ' drabs ;' go 
 'long with thee an' tak'em right off. Aint thee ashamed to put 
 'em on tu go tew sich a dreed-ful place. Why thee '11 git 'em so 
 splasht with mud they'll be clean ruined." 
 
 " Hear me, Aunt 'Liza, a-tew what I've got tu sa-a," said 
 Abel in as mild a tone as it were possible for flesh to employ. 
 " It gives me pain to differ with thee in anything, but I've takin' 
 a notion tew the ' drabs,' neow, jist fur ycour sake. I guess I 
 must wear 'em." 
 
 This was sufficient to change the current of his wife's desires. 
 She was by far too amiable to oppose his wish. 
 
 " Wa-al, all I've got tu sa-a is, that thee'll tek the best o' keer 
 of 'em, fur ef I spy a speck of dirt on 'em when thee cumes 
 hum as big as a bumblc-e-bee's nose, I shall feel hurt at thee, 
 Abel," the old dame observed with emphasis. 
 
 " Depend on it, Aunt 'Liza, I'll be as keerful as a man ken 
 well be," replied Abel. " An' as I'm unly goin' to stop in Bos- 
 ting one night, why I guess they can't git spilte much." 
 
 11 Wa-al, wear 'em then ; an' so thee comes hum as spick an' 
 span as thee goes, I'll never be the one tu tease thee." 
 
 A few hours after this conversation the old man departed 
 with a blessing. Considerable of the funds entrusted to his 
 care being in silver, he tied it up in two pocket-handkerchiefs, 
 and placed one in each of the ample pookets of his coat for safe 
 keeping. 
 
NEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR PANTALOONS UNDER YOUR PILLOW. 83 
 
 In due time he arrived at the place of his destination. As 
 he was almost a total stranger in the large city, he solicited two 
 men, who were lounging at the depot, to direct him to Federal- 
 street. The question had no sooner been put, when, stumbling 
 over an obstruction on the platform, one of his coat pockets 
 brushed sharply against an iron column of the portico, and the 
 well-known jingle of money ensued. The two men telegraphed 
 each other with sundry ominous winks and nods ; the taller of 
 these was an individual of semi-genteel appearance, rather 
 of the fleshy cast, with bushy whiskers ; his companion was a 
 shabby little man, somewhat picturesque in his tatters, with a 
 hat on his head much too large for him, and a pair of old lemon- 
 coloured gloves, out of which every finger-nail caught the sun- 
 shine. One of his legs seemed shorter than the other, and his 
 long springy hair fell over a face dingy and pinched with squa- 
 lor. He was just such a hopeful as Saxe speaks of in one 
 of his rhymes, who 
 
 limped in a manner exceedingly queer, 
 
 Wore breeches uncommonly wide in the rear, 
 And his nose was turned up with a comical sneer, 
 And he had in his eye a most rillanous leer." 
 
 The taller of the men instantly stepped forward when the ques- 
 tion had been propounded by Uncle Abel. 
 
 ' ; We'll show you the way with great pleasure," said he, rub- 
 bing his hand in a business-like manner, with one eye bent on 
 the pocket from whence the sound had proceeded that had so 
 taken his fancy. " It always gives me and my friend delight to 
 put gentlemen from the country right. Don't it, Mr. Mutchins ?" 
 
 That worthy limped still nearer to Uncle Abel's pocket, and 
 remarked that he " simply considered it his Christian doo-ty.' 1 
 
 " Na-ow, gentlemen, I'm afear'd I'll gee' thee trouble, wunt 
 il?" kindly inquired Abel. 
 
 li It's a Christian doo-ty," again remarked Mr. Mutchins, with 
 a grin at his companion. Besides, ve're vat is called the city 
 
84 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 pilots, and are paid to do everything on earth to put strangers 
 right." 
 
 " Good for old Bosting," remarked Uncle Abel with vehe- 
 mence. " Thar's more-good in the wourld than Elder Peagreen 
 wanted to make eout. Here I meet with Christians the first 
 moment I step my foot in teown." 
 
 " That's a fact," said Mutchins with a penitent leer from under 
 his capacious hat. " Not only Christians, but the tip-top sort 
 of vuns. No gammon about us I warrants ; we're bricks!" 
 
 u Thee is what ?" inquired Uncle Abel, bending forward to 
 catch the expression. 
 
 The taller of the men broke in before his companion could 
 reply. Bestowing a scowl at him, he turned to Abel and smi- 
 lingly remarked — 
 
 " My friend here has been so long a missionary among the 
 Indians that he's got hold of some of their queer expressions." 
 
 " Oh, I understand," replied the old man with the light of 
 benignant satisfaction beaming in every line of his honest face. 
 
 It was evident that the latter of the rogues was by far the 
 more artful of the twain, as he feared the slang conversation of 
 the unpolished Mr. Mutchins might thwart the old gentleman's 
 freedom of manner. 
 
 " So thee's been a missionary 'mong the injuns, has thee, 
 friend ?" inquired Abel of Mutchins, as they walked onward. 
 
 " Yes, sir-cr," replied that individual in his most insinuating 
 tones ; " I vas for two years percepter to the Kick-a-poos in 
 Iowa, and I've a brother that married a daughter of Eagle-toes, 
 chief of the Skywhy tribe. He got slung to her just for a 
 shine." 
 
 His companion gave him another withering look, accompanied 
 with a wholesome poke in the back. 
 
 li Jist fur a shine," reiterated Uncle Abel, not clearly compre- 
 hending the drift of this sentence : " What duz thee mean by a 
 shine P 
 
 
NEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR PANTALOONS UNDER YOUR PILLOW. 85 
 
 " 0, he means that the great chief of the — what was the 
 tribe ?" interrupted the tall rogue. 
 
 " The Sky whys, my dear Mr. Thompson," prompted Mutch- 
 ins, j 
 
 " That the chief of the Skywhys desired the marriage, 
 . because there's a superstition among the poor red men of the 
 forest that matrimony regulates the moon," explained Mr. 
 Thompson, with a great show of deference and sanctity, at the 
 same time, unseen by Abel, darting looks of menace at the little 
 rogue, who quailed beneath his glances. " The Indians are odd 
 people." 
 
 " Ya-as, an' got sich queer names. I never seed an injin, but 
 I'm told they're very fine-lookin' men," said the old Yankee. 
 
 " Oh, sir, you may well say that," chimed Mutchins again, 
 burying himself in his hat as he spoke ; " and they're an honest 
 set of people, too. I've known an Indian before now to entrust 
 me with his watch and chain for weeks together, and I've done 
 the same to him, and we never had the slightest trouble in the 
 world." 
 
 " I thought the injuns didn't hev watches and chains. I had 
 always heerd they told the time o' day by the sun," remarked 
 Abel, with the most unsuspecting good-humour. 
 
 " 0, bless your life," pursued the little rogue; " there vos a 
 day ven the injuns vere as humble as hop-toads ; but since the 
 vites has got among 'em they're just as proud as they can stick 
 -in their red skins. I've known a great chief to have his pokit- 
 | handjerkief scented afore he'd vipe his nose with it; and some 
 of the squaws take sich airs they vant the pampooses to learn 
 French afore they cuts their teeth." 
 
 " Is it possible ?" said Uncle Abel, opening his eyes on a wide 
 scale. 
 
 " True — true, sir. My friend's well posted in Indian customs : 
 he could tell you anecdotes by the hour," said Thompson, with 
 a cabalistic motion to his fellow, which signified the sooner he 
 
86 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 cut short his conversation the better. He perfectly compre- 
 hended the roguish free-masonry, for he did not say another 
 word in regard to the red men. " You're from the country- 
 far ?" still further inquired Thompson. 
 
 " From Vermont," replied Uncle Abel sententiously. 
 " Glorious state, I'm told," said Thompson, " for sheep and 
 grazing — not that way. Zounds ! here we are in Federal- 
 street;" and before he could finish his original query the trio 
 turned into a capacious thoroughfare. 
 
 " Neow, Elder Peagreen teold me to stop at the Hotel ;" 
 
 and Abel pulled from his pocket a large leathern wallet, and 
 took from it a card, which ho unsuspectingly passed to the 
 shabby young man, who, not being blessed with that qualifica- 
 tion necessary to the free rendition of manuscript, handed it 
 with an off-handishness really quite natural to Thompson, who 
 read — Faneuil Hotel. 
 
 " I'm afear'd I'm really givin' thee tu much trouble gintle- 
 men." 
 
 " Don't mention it — it's a delight to me ; and besides, you 
 p know, we're the — " apologized Thompson. 
 
 " I keep forgittin' thee are the city pilots to put strangers 
 right," remarked Uncle Abel, easing the weight of the parcels 
 of silver in his pockets by gathering the skirts of his coat in his 
 grasp. " This spce-che is pesky heavy." 
 
 " Can I help you in any way," archly observed the shabby 
 loafer, bristling towards the old man with a pert officiousness. 
 
 " Neow, thank thee, friend ; I shall get it changed into bank 
 notes presently," replied the Yankee. 
 
 Thompson and Co. exchanged glances, and in a moment more 
 they had reached the hotel. 
 
 " Here we are ; and, do you know, its a very strange coinci- 
 dence, I live here also," remarked Thompson : and then, steal- 
 ing a side-speech somewhat theatrical, he said to his comrade, 
 " Wait at the corner till I join you." He took the command in 
 an instant. 
 
NEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR FANTALOONS UNDER YOUR PILLOW. 87 
 
 -" "Well, as you've got to your journey's end," said Mutchins, 
 with an almost hospitable smile on his uncouth face, " I'll slide 
 off, as they say among the injuns. Good-bye, Mr. Thompson ; 
 I suppose I'll see you at the Bible society to-morrow. Mr. — I 
 haven't the honour of kowin' your name." 
 
 " Lovejoy," placidly remarked Abel. " G-ood-bye, friend. I 
 feel unkimin' 'bliged to thee ;" and filled with the warmest grat- 
 itude towards his supposed kind-hearted pilot, he tendered him 
 a piece of silver as a reward. The shabby rogue, who was a 
 natural-born vagrant, was about to accept it, when he caught a 
 pantomimic action of his better-mannered companion. He 
 stepped back abruptly, as if scorning the proffer, and in doing 
 so trod upon a loose brick, which sent a dingy jet of mud over 
 Uncle Abel's treasured " drabs." 
 
 " Oh goody me ! what has thee been and done !" cried the 
 honest old Yankee. " Splasht my pet drabs after aunt 'Liza 
 told me what she did. By Jeosophat, I'm sorry !" 
 
 Mutchins apologized as well as his breeding would permit, 
 and, in order to dissipate the mischief, whipped an extensively- 
 tattered article from his pocket, conventionally intended for a 
 pocket handkerchief, but which in reality was the half of some- 
 body's table-cloth, now converted into a more portable, but less 
 ornamental purpose. He bustled around the old man's knees, 
 but only widened the stains by his efforts. 
 
 " Thar*! thar ! what's done kint be helped," said Uncle 
 Able, gazing at his thanksgiving memento with a lugubrious 
 face. " We must put up with such things sometimes." 
 
 And they parted — Mutchins to his post at the corner of the 
 nearest crossing, and our more finished knave and his single- 
 hearted victim into the hotel. Uncle Able ordered an apart- 
 ment, and Thompson, strolling into a corner of the bar-room, 
 affected to be deeply engaged on a newspaper. The clerk in at- 
 tendance directed "No 17 to be got ready for a single gentle- 
 luan.' 
 
88 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 
 " I'm not a single gentleman na-bur," innocently remarked 
 Abel to the clerk correctively, " I'm a married man." 
 
 " Is your wife with you, sir ?" asked the clerk. 
 
 " Neo ; Aunt 'Lize's hum and well, please Providence," said 
 Abel. 
 
 The clerk appeared to comprehend the old gentleman's good- 
 humored error, aud merely replying " All right, sir," bestowed 
 his attention in another quarter. Thompson having discovered 
 the number of the room, which information he most desired at 
 the present moment, under some pretence soon left the hotel 
 and joined his fellow rogue. 
 
 The first commission that engaged the attention of Uncle 
 Abel was to exchange his freight of silver into current bank- 
 bills. This he did to his satisfaction ; and as he felt weary with 
 travel, he postponed the payments that ho had been deputed to 
 make until the next day, when he would be up with the lark, 
 fulfil his engagements, and "git towards hum and Aunt 'Liza." 
 He retired early for the purpose of refreshment. 
 
 " Neow, I'll hev a good chunk of sleep, an' teu-morro' I'll 
 feel as fresh as a du-drap/' soliloquized he, as he sought No. 17, 
 on the second floor, his allotted place of rest. " Let me see — 
 I've got ten hundred and ninety-five dollars all in bank-notes, an* 
 stowed away in my wallet snug as a mouse. I'll take car teu 
 git receipts for what I pay. Abel Lovejoy will dew the buz'- 
 ness right up to the handle, I calkilate. There's only one thing 
 that worries me. I could almost sa-a from the bottom of my 
 heart, darn these dabs of mud, for Aunt 'Liza will be so snort- 
 in' huffy — she didn't w-ant I should wear em, enny how. Deacon 
 Peagreen '11 laff tew — th' teazin' critter's all'ays pokin' his fun 
 at me." And before many sands had run in the hoar hourglass 
 
 of old Father Time, Abel was fast — fast asleep. 
 
 # # * # 
 
 Shortly after the city clocks had startled the still air of mid- 
 night with the chimes of twelve, two figures might have been 
 
 \ 
 
THE R o nn E R Y 
 
KEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR PANTALOONS UNDER YOUR PILLOW. 89 
 
 seen cautiously ascending the broad oH staircase of the Faneuil 
 Hotel. One was wrapped in a cloak, and carried a dark lan- 
 tern, the rays of which poured upon the garment ; while in the 
 shadow of his companion sculked the withered figure of a smaller 
 man with a muffled tread. Cautiously and noiselessly they 
 glided along the corridor of the landing, and examined their 
 way with great caution. As they gained the second flight of 
 steps a noise in the distance startled them. 
 
 " Hist !" hissed the taller of the two, in a whisper between 
 his teeth. " What's that ?" 
 
 " Blow out the light — quick !" said the other ; and they 
 crouched with a shudder of fear against the wall. " All right ; 
 it's gone." 
 
 The noise had receded to a mere echo, and they started up 
 re-assured, and soon gained the top of the flight, where, except 
 a few struggling moonbeams that fell in at a window in the dis- 
 tance, all was dark and silent. 
 
 " It's as dark as ," exclaimed the taller with an oath ; 
 
 " but I've got matches." 
 
 " Don't light 'em," whispered his companion, who was en- 
 gaged in passing his hands carefully over several doors on the 
 passage ; "it '11 be dangerous, and besides we can find the 
 room — there's projectin' figures on the doors." 
 
 It was as he said. Each door was furnished with raised 
 numerals carved in brass to denote the number of the rooms. 
 
 " Vat's the figures, Thompson ?" inquired the voice again, 
 which the reader of course will know belonged to the philan- 
 thropic ex-Indian missionary, Mr. Mumble Mutchins,* who it 
 seems was neglecting the precepts of his bible class shamefully. 
 
 " Hush, I've got it !" and again they paused before No. 17, 
 as the carved figures plainly indicated. 
 
 Thompson breathlessly tried the door, and it yielded to a 
 slight push. They paused for an instanl on the threshold, and 
 then with noiseless step passed in. 
 
90 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " It's all right," whispered Mutchins, " the old fellow snores 
 like a steam-engine ; shall I strike a match ?" 
 
 Thompson was an adroit knave, and preferred robbing in the 
 dark, or rather by the pale light that the moon afforded. He 
 therefore negatived his companion's request. 
 
 They groped carefully about the apartment, and soon got 
 their hands upon Uncle Abel's garments, every pocket of which 
 was strictly examined, though without avail. 
 
 Mutchins at this moment made a discovery — they had not 
 yet seen his pantaloons. 
 
 " Curse it, I hav'nt had my feelers on his trowsers — havo 
 you ?" whispered he. 
 
 The tall robber started with the force of the remark. He 
 had overhauled coat, waistcoat, and even the hat and boots, and 
 still there was no vestige of plunder. 
 
 " Where the devil can his pantaloons be ?" thought Thomp- 
 son as he crept about the room and passed his hands nervously 
 about the bed. 
 
 " 'Gad, may-be he sleeps in 'em," suggested Mutchins in the 
 ear of the other. 
 
 " Fool ! don't howl in that voice or there'll be mischief," and 
 he clutched the Indian priest by the neck to strengthen the 
 meaning of his appeal. 
 
 Mutchins winced and crept under the bed on his hands and 
 knees, he having the faculty of making himself small and scarce 
 to order. 
 
 A few moments' more search and Thompson discovered that 
 the trowsers were carefully rolled and packed under the pillow 
 of the sleeper. He at once concluded that the prize they sought 
 was there nestled for safety, and immediately the difficulty of 
 extrication presented itself. It would have been madness to 
 hope to remove his head, as the operation was perilous. A mo- 
 ment's thought, and he had hit on a plan. The old man 
 breathed deeply, and with a calm regularity that denoted the 
 
NEVER SLEEP WITH YOUR PANTALOONS UNDER YOUR PILLOW. 91 
 
 heaviness of his slumbers. Bestowing a kick upon his little 
 crouching companion which brought him to his feet, Thompson, 
 without uttering a word, took from his pocket the extensive 
 handkerchief previously referred to, and joining it firmly with 
 a coil of stout cord that he produced from his boot, he tied it to 
 a portion of the pantaloons that protruded from the pillow, and 
 then slowly passed the cord out of the window. 
 
 He gazed cautiously about, and all seemed still. The window 
 overlooked a small unfrequented street, which served the fur- 
 therance of his object. Turning to Mutchins, he found him 
 fraudulently industrious in pocketing a number of napkins that 
 had been intended as accessories to Abel's morning toilette, but 
 which laudable domestic design the knave had determined to 
 defeat. 
 
 Thompson pressed his arm, and motioned him to follow; 
 and casting a wistful glance at a square of mottled soap, which 
 he seemed to leave with a sigh of forbearance, they once more 
 stealthily gained, with noiseless tread and with some interrup- 
 tion, the street. 
 
 " That's what I calls great doins'," remarked Mr. Mumble 
 Mutchins, when he got safely into the fresh air, which he 
 seemed to inhale with a gusto quite luxuriant. " I say, Tom, 
 we can beat the world a' doin' anything of this sort, eh ?" 
 
 Thompson replied only by a scowl. 
 
 " Vy, guv'ner, you needn't be so doggish. I takes no per- 
 -tickler credit to myself, more than I seed you do it." 
 
 " Be silent ! and obey my orders." 
 
 They sought the street into which the cord had been sus- 
 pended, and by the aid of the moon experienced but little diffi 
 culty in finding it. There was one fault. It fell the length oi 
 a finger short of their reach. 
 
 " Make a back," said Thompson, seizing his fellow by the 
 shoulders, and thrusting him forward. 
 
 Mutchins appeared to comprehend the nature of the request. 
 
92 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 and rested his hands on his knees, while Thompson scrambled 
 upon him, and balanced himself by bearing to the wall. He 
 grasped the cord, and wound it firmly around his fingers. 
 
 " Now, steady below there, 1 ' murmured the robber in a muf- 
 fled tone; "and I'll give a grand pull." 
 
 There was an effort and a struggle. Thompson by a forcible 
 attempt brought the pantaloons flying out of the window, and 
 Mutchins, growing weak in the knees, wavered, and precipitated 
 his companion head-foremost on the curb. The next moment a 
 head was seen above, and a voice heard uttering " Thieves ! 
 murder ! villany !" and expressions of similar alarm and signi- 
 ficance. Seizing the booty, the robbers fled ; and a guardian 
 of the night was, after considerable vociferation, summoned be- 
 neath the window, and the cause of disturbance hurriedly 
 communicated. But it was too late; the culprits were not to 
 be found, and the affair was voted a disaster. 
 
 Now for the sequel. 
 
 Before retiring, Uncle Abel had carefully placed his pocket- 
 book in his pantaloons, and buried them beneath his head for 
 security ; and notwithstanding the dexterity of the plunderers, 
 an accident fortunately thwarted their views. The garment in 
 its sudden passage from its concealment came sharply in con- 
 tact with the sill, and dislodged the pocket-book ; and while the 
 " drabs " went their way, the prize that prompted the operation 
 fell unharmed beneath the window. The good old Yankee 
 blessed Providence, and said all sorts of pious proverbs in the 
 impulse of his gratitude, but at the same time was inconsolable 
 on his wife's account at the loss of her thanksgiving gift. 
 
 He avers that he will never again sleep with his pantaloons 
 under his pillow. 
 
93 
 
 PARAGRAPHS ABOUT PEACHES. 
 
 " The soft impeachment." — Popular Phrase. 
 " Up, boys, and at them." — Wellington. 
 
 We are under the impression, as far as our experience and 
 observation go, that the fruit fanciers of Great Britain have 
 never enjoyed peaches as they grow in New- Jersey ; a State 
 with a very sandy soil, lying with its breast exposed to the sea, 
 between the sister States of New-York and Pennsylvania. 
 There peaches are indeed peaches — so large, plump, rosy, and 
 mellow — the very incarnation of luxurious delicacy. The wall 
 peach that we have eaten in England is deficient in that deli- 
 cious flavour characteristic of the New-Jersey and Delaware 
 fruit, albeit much time and attention is bestowed on its rearage. 
 There the tree grows spontaneously, in a measure ; and it is a 
 most delightful picture to see, in early morning, an orchard, of 
 several miles in extent, with its pale pink and subdued crim- 
 soned blossoms, a dew-drop sleeping in the bosom of each, and 
 the long, graceful, tapering leaves nodding obediently, and lav- 
 ishing their rich odour on the wanton air-currents that play- 
 fully dally through them. This is the first stage only of the 
 beauty of the peach orchard. When the blossom is promptly 
 passing into the young germ, and the leaves slowly and sorrow- 
 fully disappear, nevermore to turn up their blushing surfaces to 
 the moonlight, then the trees present a really delightful effect. 
 The young fruit, nestling among the leaves, and hugging the 
 twigs, like a babe clinging to the breast of its mother, suggests 
 the idea of a number of spoiled pets, afraid to leave the apron- 
 
94 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 strings of their parent stems, and, confident of their security, 
 peep saucily out at the passers-by, seeming to promise what 
 they will be when age and the sun shall have matured their 
 tempting development. The " last stage of all that ends" this 
 progressive scene of loveliness and beauty, are the clusters of 
 fruit, rich, round, and perfectly ripe, inviting the hand to pluck 
 them, as they seem quite ready to renounce their birth-place, 
 and divide pro bono publico^ as destiny may rule the matter — 
 provided, of course, that destiny ever meddles herself with 
 peaches. +* 
 
 How often have we selected a clear, blue-skied, bright day, 
 when just a wing of shade has rested under the sweeping boughs 
 of the orchard, and lounging about in a robe de chambrc, and a 
 clumsy-looking sombrero, plucked the most gushing of the fruit 
 as it exposed its scarlet sides, ripening by the aid of the gleams 
 of sunlight that crept noiselessly through the trellis of foliage ! 
 -The profusion seemed to invoke an appetite, and health waiting 
 on it, we were not so choice as to require a plate and knife, but 
 went at it sa?is ccrcmonie, pull and eat, and pull again. Such 
 nectar was never distilled for the revels of Jupiter, if Hebe, (a 
 young lady for whom, if mythological archives are to be 
 depended upon, we entertain a very high regard) did ofttimes 
 bear the enamelled goblet in her lily-white hands. 
 
 Insects seem to have a marked predilection for peach trees. 
 "We do not mean the offensive grubs and moths that pierce the 
 fruit and sap its heart; we refer more particularly to what 
 Shelley calls the "plumed" tribe — bees, gnats, wasps, and 
 bluebottle-flies, that spin and sparkle in the/jlear atmosphere, 
 
 " Like golden boats in a 6unny sea," 
 
 and pop down on the peaches, then make a detour in the air, 
 and finally, after hum-drumming and buzzing about in the 
 leaves, like the dying tones of a harpsichord, shoot off with the 
 speed of an arrow, perfect winged coquettes, settling on the 
 
 
PARAGRAPHS ABOUT PEACHES. 95 
 
 harebell, drinking the sweets of the rose, and committing innu- 
 merable petty larcenies on the honeysuckle and woodbines. 
 
 But, talking about the' blossoms, and the insects, and the 
 sunshine, we are taking steam, and running away, on the elec- 
 tric telegraph of fancy, from what we started to tell our readers 
 about ; so we will " once more to the peach," and not be 
 seduced, by these little delights, to again stray from our design. 
 
 "We have said the peaches are now ripe. They are, and must 
 be gathered. The farmer that we have at this moment got in 
 our mind's eye, owns twelve acres of trees, and in order that the 
 fruit may not be over-ripened, it must be got in by a certain 
 date. We will suppose it to be the early part of August, and 
 the young fruit, nicely ripened and assorted, has been sent to 
 the market some months before. Now the backward crop must 
 be looked to, and preparations are made for a fete champetre of 
 the first order of rustic sensibility. All the neighboring lads 
 and lasses for several miles round will be solicited to participate 
 in the joint affair of labour and pleasure, as they will assist our 
 farmer to get in his crop. The domestic corps is increased by 
 the arrival of several of those ever-excellent maiden aunts that 
 one finds in most households, whose duty it will be to superin- 
 tend the internal arrangements. And now an overhauling of 
 hardware takes place, in which burly saucepans, exaggerated tin 
 cups, and very corpulent copper kettles are prominent features. 
 The crockery likewise undergoes a similar investigation ; milk- 
 pans, jugs and pitchers being pressed into the service. These 
 are all sent down to the spring — the dimpled waters of which 
 run laughingly through the mead, so prettily powdered with 
 buttercups and taraxacum blossoms — and are washed, until, in 
 the language of old Aunt Barbara, they are " as sweet and clean 
 as new pins." 
 
 Our farmer, whose chirography is none of the best, as he 
 has never given his attention to hair-strokes nor pot-hooks, does 
 not write invites on crimson-edged enamelled note paper ; no, 
 
96 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 he saddles the best horse in the stable, and investing himself in 
 a clean shirt, a linsey-woolsey coat, and a mole-skin wide-brim- 
 med hat, (his Sunday go-to-meeting outfit,) he ambles away to 
 wait on his neighbors, who require no conventional formality 
 beyond the manly, honest shake of the hand. 
 
 " What's a doing on Thursday next ?'' inquires the farmer. 
 
 " Never idle ; why ?" is something like the rejoinder. 
 
 " We want to get in the peaches that day, and if your people 
 can lend us a hand we'll feel obliged, and of course stand ready 
 for the same favour." 
 
 u By all means ; it shall be arranged." 
 
 These are almost all of the preliminaries required to gain the 
 services of the neighbours. They do nut mind early rising; it 
 is one of their many good habits to witness the morn, clad in 
 his mantle of russet, 
 
 *' Walk o'er the dew of yon high eastern bill." 
 
 Thus, the farmer makes an excursion among his rural brethren, 
 who all appear t«» experience a sincere pleasure at being able to 
 render assistance one to another. There are no hems ! nor hol- 
 low apologies, nor empty regrets, or " I would if — ," or " I'm 
 so sorry, but — ;" expressions that will at once be familiar to 
 those who have in vain sought favor from the wayward giddy 
 world in town. Here there is nothing of the sort. A hearty 
 compliance succeeds the request, and a glow of pleasure lights 
 up the ruddy face of the husbandman, as his heart responds to 
 his neighbor's desire. How pleasing is such fraternity, and 
 what an example does it present to the many ranks of society, 
 ever at variance, in fanning the flame of petty conventional pre- 
 judice. 
 
 The morning of the day has arrived in which the fruit is to 
 be gathered. Prompt as the light of the morning the neigh- 
 bors assemble. We can descry them coming down the long, 
 green-wooded lane, in their old frowzy-topped wagons. This 
 
PARAGRAPHS ABOUT PEACHES. 97 
 
 one contains a farmer, his wife — a happy-faced elderly lady — 
 and several bouncing, chubby girls, — perfect merry little dump- 
 lings, with very red cheeks, lips ditto, and hair curled in long 
 graceful tresses. How they run and romp into the house, and kiss 
 the several old maiden ladies, and shake hands with the host 
 and hostess, and hug the children's pudcly figures, until they 
 are ready to squeal out like young porkers ! Another group of 
 girls soon come, with moss-roses twined in their soft brown 
 hair, or twin blue-bells, " at whose birth the sod scarce heaved," 
 pinned in their belts. These kiss those who have preceded 
 them ; and thus the greetings go on until all of them arrive ; 
 for as the farmers with few exceptions know each other, intro- 
 ductions do not necessarily take place, but all feel at once at home. 
 
 Breakfast is spread out of doors on a long old-fashioned oak 
 table on the lawn, in front of a row of tall poplars, and soon 
 the meal is over ; the boys get ready the large baskets, and all 
 in a cluster sally out to the orchard, which is a mile distant 
 from the house, each of the girls having taken the precaution 
 of bringing with her a large calico or chintz sun-bonnet, which 
 effectually shields her countenance from the burning rays of 
 the day-orb. 
 
 It is a pretty sight ! There is a Kate, a Cordelia, a Blanche, 
 a Flora, a Rosabel, a Fanny, and a Beatrice, all in a group — 
 for be it known that the American demoiselles have a passion 
 for choice names. They cannot bear Mary, notwithstanding 
 Byron and Burns both felt an absolute passion for it, and it is 
 still the theme of bards and bardlings of all countries. They 
 also avoid Sarah, although its poetical form is Sally, which is 
 found in many a sonnet; perhaps they dread the contraction 
 Sal, which, we confess, is harsh and unmusical. Lucy they 
 think too much behind the age ; for, as Barry Cornwall has it — 
 
 " Lucy is a (g)olden girl," 
 
 and Susan, of Hebrew origin, albeit it signifies a lily, is not suf- 
 ficiently euphonious for their taste. 
 
98 DASHES OP AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 There they go, these happy, jolly-looking girls, with their pret- 
 ty names. How they do " Blanche dear," and " Fanny love," and 
 "Beatrice darling," each other, to be sure! Some pause to 
 pluck flowers, others skip like young kids ; and the silvery 
 peals of laughter echoing through the green vaults of the grove 
 impress one with the conviction that they can indeed boast of 
 the real wealth of life. There are two or three careless of the 
 sunshine, and in no fear of freckles, tripping along with their 
 bonnets in their hands, the girdles that fettered their hair hav- 
 ing slipped away ; and now the clustering curls, free and unre- 
 strained, are dancing about their well-curved necks. On they go, 
 as merry as wild birds ; but where are the males all this time ? 
 We have been so taken up with the girls that we quite forgot 
 our own sex. Well, this is natural, as we always obey that 
 musty, yet good old couplet, commencing — 
 
 " When a lady's in the," &c 
 
 The boys have detached themselves from the girls, and 
 gone on ahead with the baskets, while the men are looking after 
 the carts. 
 
 The duty of the day, then, is thus divided : — The boys are to 
 shake the trees, the girls to pick up the fruit, and load the 
 baskets, for the men to carry to the carts, who return them for 
 filling. This arrrangement, immediately on the arrival of tho 
 various parties, goes into effect. 
 
 The boys can climb like young squirrels, and up the little 
 trees they go, and, perching on a topmost bough, sing a monot- 
 onous chaunt — se-e-e-c-e sa-a-a-a-a-a-w, rocking the well-stored 
 branches in time with the voice. There are two girls for each 
 tree, and softly the fruit drops on the grass all around like hail. 
 Blanche and Kate, for example, are under a tree that is bend- 
 ing down with its load of loveliness. 
 
 " Bless me, Billy," says the former of the two, looking up in- 
 to the tree, and losing her vision in an alley of green leaves ; 
 
PARAGRAPHS ABOUT PEACHES. 99 
 
 " don't let them hit me on the head in that manner. Eigh ! 
 there goes my comb all to splinters." 
 
 Billy, the young gentleman addressed — of whom no part is 
 visible except one very brown hand, and a foot which would be 
 nude, if it were not that three of the toes are attired in a suit 
 of brown mud — smirks and says, "he be darned if he could 
 help it." 
 
 Kate — and we believe these Kates are pretty much all saucy 
 creatures — laughs, and as she draws her sun-bonnet closer to her 
 face, that Blanche may not observe her mirth, a large peach 
 wickedly selects her nose as a goal and down it comes, causing 
 her to shriek most musically, and to rub her nose, and then look 
 at her hands, to see whether " it will have blood." 
 
 The trees look as if they had been suddenly seized with a fit 
 of the ague, for they are shaking in all directions. There are 
 some twenty boys at work, Billys, Tommys, and Johnnys, and a 
 rare set of vagabonds they are, up to all species of mischief, and 
 ever rip* for anything in the way of sport. The fruit is now 
 ancle deep, as 
 
 " Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the vales 
 In Vallombrosa ;" 
 
 but the girls are active, and soon fill the baskets, which are borne 
 away by the men, and emptied into the carts stationed at vari- 
 ous points of the orchard. 
 
 So it goes on until noon-tide, when they all adjourn to dinner, 
 which is spread in the purest home-bred style, as before, on the 
 anemonepaven lawn. There are not trentc-dcux potages and 
 entrements a la Symposium, Soyer fashion, to be sure ; but all 
 of these French ollapodridas are amply compensated by mounds 
 of white and brown bread, and such glorious butter (with all 
 due deference #> Devonshire), to say nothing of the home-cured 
 ham, fresh-laid eggs, veal, young lamb, chickens, served in seve- 
 ral ways, only not seasoned to such an extent as to conceal the 
 natural flavour, and every variety of vegetables in season. Then 
 
100 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 the pies ! — not your little insignificant pale-looking things ono 
 finds at the restaurants in town, that look as if they were 
 ashamed of themselves ; but large, noble, prodigious specimens, 
 large enough to lay down in, with the upper-crust for a quilt ; 
 reminding us of the giant that some redoubtable tourist saw in 
 the moon, who required two visits to be seen to advantage. 
 
 As there is no wine after dinner, nor a prolongation of des- 
 sert, the guests return to their labours, the old men first adjourn- 
 ing to the ante-room at the side of the pantry, where they in- 
 dulge in a draught of "apple jack,'' as whisky is commonly 
 called in that part of the country. By four o'clock in the 
 afternoon the trees begin to assume a bare appearance, or rather 
 the fruit has grown scarce, ami with the exception of a stray 
 peach here and there, that has, like the valiant Cataline, resisted 
 the general agitation, it is housed ready for exportation to the 
 nearest city market. The host next desires all those who may 
 not have orchards of their own to select out each a bushel of 
 the finest fruit, to be conveyed home for their own use. Blanche 
 and Kate are cousins, and reside in the same homestead, and it 
 is amusing to watch them as they fill the basket allotted for 
 their share. 
 
 :t Look, Kate, what a darling !"' says Blanche, holding up a 
 beautiful downy specimen. " It blushes all over like a young 
 bride." 
 
 " Just as you will when you arc led to the altar," replies Kate, 
 laughingly, "eh;?" 
 
 " Never ; because, coz, you know I've settled on being an old 
 maid, like Deborah there," replies Blanche. 
 
 "Old fiddlesticks. You an old maid! Well, I like that; 
 did'nt I catch you, only last Sunday, casting side glances at 
 young squire — what's his name — he with th« red hair and 
 the—" 
 
 Blanche crimsons like the peach she has just tossed so care- 
 lessly into the basket and makes no reply. 
 
PARAGRAPHS ABOUT PEACHES. 101 
 
 u Ha ! ha ! ha ! I've done it, I find," continues Kate, observing 
 the blood mantling in her comp;itioa'svfair cheeks ; " Now, 
 why don't yon confide in me, and theD I'll never plague you 
 again about Jerry." 
 
 " Jerry !" interrupts Blanche sneeringly: " I'll thank you, 
 Miss, his name is not Jerry." 
 
 li Dear-a-me, you need'nt Miss me because I mistook the 
 young man's name. I'm sure Jerry is pretty. How tender to 
 say — < Jeremiah, love, hand me a glass of water,' or ' Jerry, 
 dear, do so-and-so' — eh, coz?" 
 
 '•' Kate, you're a provoking puss, that's what you are. I just 
 told you that his name is not Jerry." 
 
 " What is it, then ?" 
 
 "I don't know that I shall tell you." 
 
 " I can guess — Bobby?" continued Kate, a sly, roguish smile 
 playing about the corners of her pretty red lips. 
 
 " No, no, no !" cries Blanche, raising her voice on the succes- 
 sive word, and nearly rising from off her feet with the moment- 
 ary emotion. 
 
 " Ah ! now I have it. I'll bet a peach it's Peter," cries the 
 madcap. 
 
 Blanche's eyes got suddenly and particularly bright. 
 
 " You don't contradict it — I see it's Peter; why I'm sure 
 that's not half so nice as Jerry, and you pretended you didn't 
 like that a bit." 
 
 Blanche's eyes still grow brighter — diamonds are dull to 
 them. 
 
 " Why don't you speak ? Are you angry because I've hit 
 on his name ? Why, how your heart beats ! I can see its mo- 
 tions here;" and, giving her companion a gentle tap on the chin, 
 she bursts into a fit of laughter. 
 
 Blanche drives back her rising emotions, and finds out, over 
 the peach basket, that she has really a very great regard — more 
 than she has ever dreamed of — for the young squire in question. 
 She summons her courage and says — 
 
102 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " I shall never love you any more, Kate !" 
 
 " Ha ! ha.' .won't you; iadsed-?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " 3feq t &<& gfte& %ik i^mo ? Ha ! ha !" 
 
 " No ;" and poor Blanche is so much confused, now that the 
 inward glow of excitement has subsided, that she does not 
 observe that the basket is full, and that the peaches keep tum- 
 bling out at one side while she puts them in at the other. 
 
 " ! I can't be ; you forget yourself." 
 
 " Me forget myself, indeed; I think you forget yourself 7" 
 and Miss, to be impressive, draws herself up in the most ap- 
 proved manner. 
 
 Kate, to be convincing, points to tho peaches strewn about 
 the ground, when Blanche, suddenly becoming aware of the real 
 cause, looks foolish, and attempts to cough away the feeling. 
 All at once she thinks of an expedient, and resolves to turn the 
 tables against her vivacious relative. 
 
 u What would you give to know his name ?" she says. 
 
 "A dime." 
 
 " And will you never mention it ?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 "On your honour?" 
 
 " 'Pon honour !" 
 
 " As true as you've this day picked peaches ?" 
 
 " Why, Blanche, how can you doubt me ?" her curiosity, by 
 this time, in reality, excited to ascertain the name. 
 
 " I'm afraid, notwithstanding all you have said, that you'll 
 tell," continues Blanche, her companion's growing curiosity not 
 being lost on her. 
 
 11 Then, Blanche, in plain terms, you must think me a — " 
 
 " Oh ! no I don't ; but yet I have a reason for saying this." 
 
 " What can it be ? Nothing serious, I hope ? He hasn't 
 written a confidential billet-doux to you, and I not see it, 
 Blanche?" 
 
PARAGE.APKS ABOUT PEACHES. 103 
 
 " You don't know all." 
 
 " Oh !" says Kate, stamping her foot with impatience, " what 
 is it ? Don't keep me in suspense any longer. Speak ! or 
 when I go home 111 rummage every drawer in the houso but 
 I'll find it." 
 
 " You wouldn't dare." 
 
 " I declare I'll tell your ma, then ;" and the young lady be- 
 gins to feel slightly provoked. 
 
 " Turn tell-tale ! Oh, Kate ! I'm ashamed of you." 
 
 " No, I won't ; that was only my fun." 
 
 " Ah ! you're playing the inquisitor : you'll make me tell my 
 secrets, whether I will or no." 
 
 " But it's quite natural." 
 • " So it is." 
 
 " Now, do tell me his name, at least, that's a dear." 
 
 Blanche taxes her imagination for a moment to invent a fic- 
 titious name. She has it. 
 
 " Well, now honour bright, its " 
 
 " Yes " 
 
 " Sammy " 
 
 " Sammy. Yes." 
 
 " Sammy Sutton Soapsuds." 
 
 " Sammy Sutton Soapsuds !" cries Kate, again bursting into 
 a shrill laugh ; '• what a name for a squire ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! I 
 wouldn't marry a man with such a name if he was a king, and 
 covered all over with jewels and gold. Ha ! ha ! ha !" and she 
 runs off in an ebullition of glee to join a party of girls about to 
 play at blind-man 1 s-buff on the lawn, well satisfied that she has 
 found out the name of her cousin's lover ; while Blanche, not 
 quite so blithe, is happy to think that she had ironically dis- 
 posed of a subject of more importance to her than she had at 
 first conceived. 
 
 We never, in the course of our journeyings, came across a 
 circuit of farm-houses but some one of the tenantry had pre- 
 
104 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 tensions to the violin — most generally an old gray-headed 
 fellow, blind of an eye, who could, by dint of hard scraping, get 
 through a certain number of quick steps, marches, and fandan- 
 goes, venerable on account of their antiquity, the melodies of all 
 of which, by some strange analogy, which we have never seen 
 properly explained in any essay on the science that we have 
 read, bear a striking resemblance to each other. It is not to be 
 presumed that our farmer will engage a brass or string band 
 " from town," as the Jersey folks say ; but his guests must be 
 content to trip it on the green sward to the music of an old fid- 
 dle — perhaps the G- string not at home, too — and u Barbary 
 Allen," arranged as an allegretto, is struck up and gone through 
 with, at the rise of some eclat, not forgetting the really clever 
 performance of ' ; Blue-eyed Mary," with ad libitum variations, 
 which arc much admired, and which the girls particularly call 
 " so very, very sweet." 
 
 A country reel follows ; but the girls soon grow weary, and 
 the wagons are got ready for home. " Good bye, good bye !" 
 is the universal shout. "Many thanks! many thank-!' La 
 echoed back from the household, and now a regular flying artil- 
 lery of kissing takes place. The old maiden aunts have spruced 
 up, and being general favourites, or rather on account of having 
 past the spring time of their lives, more liberties arc taken with 
 them by the young farmers, who bestow sundry kind taps on 
 their shoulders, and call them u nice young crccters," something 
 after the fashion that gray old gentlemen in bag wigs poke the 
 sides of volatile young spendthrifts in the old comedies. 
 
 The girls, too, have a hearty squeeze all around. They are 
 not let off without some fond demonstration. Kate kisses 
 Beatrice, and Fanny does the same to Rosabel, and Blanche 
 makes a regular tour of red lips, being the general favourite of 
 the company. Then one by one the vehicles drive off, until the 
 bulk of the guests have departed, the omega of as pleasant an 
 interchange of friendship as a philanthropic Howard would wish 
 to witness. 
 
PARAGRAPHS ABOUT PEACHES. 105 
 
 It now remains for the fruit to be sorted into bushels, accord- 
 ing to its size and quality, the decayed portion being reserved 
 for the swine. The ripest and most advanced is sent at once to 
 market, while the least matured is retained for future disposal. 
 The peach crops form a very important item in the staples of 
 New Jersey produce, and its evanescent, susceptible nature ren- 
 ders it an object of anxious solicitude to the thrifty farmer, who 
 combines in this case the twofold practice of an orchardist and 
 husbandman. 
 
 It is scarcely worth while to trespass on the time of the 
 reader in following the peaches to market, and from thence to 
 the tables of all classes of the inhabitants of the various districts 
 of the republic ; suffice it to say, that their cheapness enables 
 the very poorest to enjoy their evening saucer of sliced peaches 
 and milk, and, for a month or two in the latter part of the sum- 
 mer, puddings and pies of this delightful fruit are quite the 
 mode. The scenes at the market are often of a really grotesque 
 character. As far as the eye can reach tens of thousands of 
 baskets are piled, one upon another, and guards are stationed to 
 protect them from the depredations of the urchins, who flock 
 about in troops, watching every opportunity, during the inatten- 
 tion of the guard, to cram their pockets. Frequently, when 
 detected, a chase takes place, and the boys, not particular to 
 what quarter they bend their flight, so that they can escape well 
 loaded with the " stolen joys," scramble over the baskets, upset- 
 ting the peaches, and causing them to scatter and roll about like 
 an infinitude of little red balls chasing each other on a cricket 
 ground. Away they fly — boys, peaches, and policeman — and as 
 the contest depends upon the fleetncss of the pursued and the 
 nimbleness of the pursuers, it can scarcely be set down whether 
 the young knaves escape to munch the mellow spoils, or are 
 gallanted to the magistrate's office to await an impeachment (not 
 intended for a pun), for the fraudulent appropriation of property, 
 set down in the statutes as gross and illegal. 
 
106 
 
 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 The prices of the fruit fluctuate. During the month of July 
 the first quality usually commands seventy-five cents (equal to 
 three shillings sterling) per basket, and, at the height of the 
 season, it is as low as ten cents. Cases have been known, during 
 a highly prolific year, when the farmers have been willing to 
 dispose of it at almost any price — a mere song, as the saying 
 goes, and many a basket of beautiful fruit has gone its way for 
 five cents. Gallons and gallons of jam are prepared during 
 these fruitful periods, for exportation ; and even with this pro- 
 visional adaptation of the fruit, much of it goes to waste and 
 decay. 
 
 As long as the season lasts the streets and thoroughfares 
 abound with peach stones, which are gathered by the boys, tho 
 kernels of which they sell, for a trifling sum per hundred, to the 
 chemists and confectioners. So it will be seen that the peaches 
 are no mean matter in the sum total of American fruit, both 
 for quality and quantity ; and we cannot close this somewhat 
 rambling sketch with a better design than wishing they were 
 equally cheap, plentiful, and delicious in Great Britain. 
 
107 
 
 " PICTURESQUE DRINKABLES. 
 
 The French people used to have the credit of inventing 
 everything pretty and fanciful ; and to stroll around the avenues 
 of the Palais Royal and glance at the bewildering medley of 
 grotesque bijouterie so artfully arranged in the shop-windows, 
 or saunter observantly the length of the Boulevards for half- 
 a-day, one would be willing to accede the justice of the reputa- 
 tion. But however France may pride herself on her flimsy 
 whimsicalities of taste in mere ornament, the United States 
 claims a consideration for her liquescent contribution to the 
 great Bazaar of Fancy. "While Paris may distance all com- 
 petitors in the fashioning of capricious solids, New-York stands 
 out boldly for her display of fantastical liquids. In eating, 
 France is unquestionable ; in drinking, America is on the top- 
 most rung of the ladder. A Parisian pastrycook has more 
 adroit rules of moulding meal and milk than the imagination 
 would seem to suggest ; and a Yankee restaurateur compre- 
 hends the infinitude of variety and kaleidoscopic combination of 
 all liquids. 
 
 In a New- York cafe the usual programme of cherries, cham- 
 pagnes, burgundies, hocks, and ports will be found at all sea- 
 sons, with their more fiery neighbours, the brandies, gins, rums, 
 and similar alcoholics — not to slightingly omit the milder edi- 
 tions of malt pleasantries, in the way of ales, porters, and par- 
 ticularly brown stouts. These are stand-byes for all times and 
 all seasons ; but when the roses look in with June, and the col- 
 
108 
 
 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 lars lie over-moistened in July, then it is the tribe of " pictur- 
 esque drinkables" crowd forward for consideration. 
 
 The liquor list is hanging on yonder fountain We will read 
 it— 
 
 FELLOW-CITIZENS— PRAY OBSERVE. 
 
 Mint Juleps. 
 
 Sherry Cobblers. 
 
 .Brandy Smashes. 
 
 Snow-Storms. 
 
 Peach-Tinulers. 
 
 Zkitivkixas. 
 
 &c, &c. 
 
 Iced Punch. 
 
 Shebbeet. 
 
 Chain Lightning 
 
 (Very cool). 
 
 Lip-Freezers. 
 
 Boa Noqg. 
 
 &c, &c. 
 
 Orangeade. 
 
 Mineral Water 
 
 (Twenty Syrups). 
 
 '•Tom and Jbbry." 
 
 ■• Widow's Ti 
 
 "Young Men's I>eeiuut. ? ' 
 
 &&, &C. 
 
 The "Mint Julep" is the most fashionable drink of the sum- 
 mer season; and when the large goblet is diamonded with bits 
 of ice, that rise like a miniature Alpine glacier with a coquet- 
 tish forest of mint garnishing the side, and the summits crowned 
 with a couple of rosy strawberries, the appearance) to begin with, 
 is hugely fascinating in warm weather. The " Sherry Cobbler," 
 composed, as its name expresses, of sherry gratefully blended 
 with saccharino, or liquidated rock-candy and ice, ranks in pop- 
 ularity next to the juleps. Both are imbibed through straws or 
 glass tubes kept for the purpose. The " Brandy Smashes," 
 " Peach Tinglers," " Snow-storms,"' " Widow's Tears," and 
 " Iced Punch," all claim their share of attention; and delight- 
 fully cool, grateful, and satisfactory, they are to the tutored pal- 
 ate. These drinks are ingeniously modified from each other ; 
 as, for example, a Snow-storm would be a close cut between a 
 Cobbler and a " Lip-freezer," with the addition of a quantity 
 of shaved ice crumbled on a carpenter's plane. Lemon-peel 
 and spice would play important parts in an Iced Punch ; while 
 " Chain Lightning" and " Zephyrinas" would shake hands and 
 settle down into a " Young Man's Delight." 
 
 The ornamental and light icy coolness of these draughts make 
 them especially acceptable when the mercury of the thermom- 
 
"picturesque drinkables." 109 
 
 eter is desperately on the rise. A warm negus and a hot " go" 
 of brandy, that Englishmen enjoy on a steaming July day, are 
 " dead letters" during the warm months on 'tother side of the 
 Atlantic. An American would as soon think of refreshing him- 
 self at this season with a smoking mixture as forswear his coun- 
 try and dissolve the Union. But give him a sparkling mound 
 of ice, a bunch of fresh green mint with its " golden fragrance," 
 half a dozen ripe, round lemons, and a jorum of the ardent, 
 and he would experience no special difficulty in building up an 
 afternoon's conviviality. 
 
 We have often observed in the pleasure-grounds of Kew, Rich- 
 mond, Hampton, and other places of rustic resort, certain jolly 
 old gentlemen happy in the possession of huge tumblers of reeking 
 hot spirits ; and a glance at then- oozing rubicund faces made 
 us regret they did not better comprehend the art of enjoyment 
 — as found in summer drinks. Instead of being receptacles of 
 boiling infusions, how much more refrigerative and satisfactory 
 would they find iced preparations of light wines a la American. 
 But chacun d son gout — and then the value of ice in the two 
 countries is a commercial consideration not to be lost sight of 
 
 There can be no doubt that the gratefulness of these fanciful 
 drinks, or, as we once heard a temperance fanatic term them, 
 " Spirit-demons in holiday disguises," tends greatly to the sys- 
 tem of early drinking prevalent in the United States. The 
 eleven-o'clock-in-the-morning julep with the lunch of the cafe is a 
 received fact, and not confined to an exclusive circle. Young 
 men in the incipiency of their teens, caught by the delicacy of 
 these ingenious draughts, learn to quaff deeply and freely before 
 manhood has determined the strength of their physical consti- 
 tution — and here may lie the only pernicious effect arising from 
 the palatableness of the conventional beverages of the country. 
 
 An American cafe, or, more properly, " drinking-house" — for 
 uulike the French cafes, coffee and tea are not served in the 
 general saloon — is appointed in the most tasteful style of art. 
 
110 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR: 
 
 Behind a bar of grained wood, curled maple, rosewood, or orna- 
 mented oak, as the case may be, the top of which is ornamented 
 with a slab of polished marble, are arranged a procession of ela- 
 borate cut-glass decanters, with silver labels placed on each, 
 denoting the contents. Above these is a splendid mirror with 
 an arabesque frame, which is jauntily protected from the tarnish 
 by a light suit of yellow gause. In the centre of the bar rises 
 a miniature fountain, curiously wrought, that never wearies of 
 sending forth little ribbons of rose-water on the rich petals of 
 charmingly-arranged bouquets that perfume the air for many feet 
 around. About the apartment are placed lounges, centre-tables 
 scattered with the periodical news of the day, easy-chairs, otto- 
 mans, and a niche or two may boast a marble intention of some- 
 body notable in mythological or modern heroics. The dainty- 
 papered walls are hung with oil-paintings and choice engravings. 
 In this latter respect many of the saloons are desultory picture- 
 galleries ; and not a few Holbeins, Snyders, Corrcgios, with 
 here and there a Vandyke and Titian, have found their silent 
 way transatlantic-ward to adorn the Silenian haunts of Ameri- 
 can revellers. Many of the hotel-keepers display much tasto 
 and some artistic knowledge in their pictorial collections and 
 museums of virtu. Others, again, line their walls with ill- 
 executed portraits aud indifferent subjects, merely for the sake 
 of an exhibition of ornament regarded essential in establish- 
 ments of this sort. 
 
 The system of serving liquor in America is regulated differ- 
 ently from Great Britain. A barmaid, to begin with, would bo 
 a rara avis in the young country ; and therefore, instead of 
 having your " call" apportioned by a wholesome specimen of 
 feminine plumptitude in bright ringlets, the decanter is placed 
 before you, .and the quantum regulated by your own sense of 
 gentlemanlike prudence. But what answers in one part of the 
 world will not do in another ; especially where the gentle pres- 
 sure of taxes regulates habit. 
 
Ill 
 
 There is a certain cosiness and domesticity noticeable in an 
 English bar — especially in the country — that one never finds in 
 America. Taps, mugs, and Barclay and Perkins's assurances 
 are supplanted by " sticks," " flies," and silver goblets. Instead 
 of a comfortable young woman in balzorine, we find a dapper 
 young man in his shirt-sleeves, as brisk as a bee, and all smiles 
 and activity. 
 
 In point of fact, an American bar-keeper is a genius of his 
 own class. He is generally a smart, personable young man, 
 with an immense predilection for very white linen and whiskers. 
 The arrangement of his hair is a great consideration, his happi- 
 ness much depending on its gloss and smoothness. A " parting 
 on the wrong side" would rashly endanger his equanimity of 
 mind, while a deficiency of pomade might affect the serenity of his 
 usual temper to an extraordinary extent. TVhat traditional rea- 
 sons this class of people have for so fondling their locks we con- 
 fess an entire ignorance. The bar-keeper comes from the middle 
 ranks of life, and is of an observant turn of mind ; his occupa- 
 tion gives him a physiognomical knowledge of faces, and he has 
 a happy faculty of distinguishing between the man that " one 
 glass more would not hurt," and " the man that has just had 
 enough." He reads at a glance the outlines of the confirmed 
 toper, and the mere amateur of imbibition. He can tell with 
 sybilline prescience whether a man is " completely broke," or if 
 he has a few sixpences left for dram indulgence. In a word, 
 there exists a psychological understanding between the bar- 
 keeper and his patron, the minute shadows of which none but 
 an adept of vast experience can fathom. 
 
 And the bar-keeper is a dashing, convivial fellow " out of 
 business." He dresses in fast colours, frequently keeps a fast 
 horse, and is much courted by the young men on town. He is 
 sure to be addressed as" Bob," or " Charley," or " Tom, "with 
 an affect ionateness of tone and manner that indicates exquisite 
 familiarity. It is one of his inviolable practices out never to 
 
112 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 let anybody pay for a drink but himself, and he thereby gains 
 the reputation of a " first-rate good-hearted fellow" — in fact one 
 of those men that " you could do anything in the world for," 
 his liberality — nay, prodigality — is so captivating. No matter 
 how large the concourse of drinkers, he " stands the shot" — 
 the sympathy between his hand and his pocket is so great. 
 
 It is in these "picturesque concoctions" that the bar-keeper 
 displays his peculiar skill. He can grasp two tumblers in either 
 hand, and artfully maintain a pair of streams without the loss 
 of a drop, or the slightest confusion. If he chooses to elaborate 
 his dexterity, he can toss the streams behind his back from one 
 tumbler to another with a miraculousness and nicety, of which 
 it is thought only jugglers are capable. He minces a lemon as 
 perfectly as Louis Quatorze is said to have executed a pirou 
 and spins a goblet with superhuman confidence when the brittle- 
 ness of* the article in question is duly considered. 
 
 We are wandering. Revenons d nos ?nouto?is y as the French 
 advocate expressed it. So to get back to the " fancy drinkables," 
 it is curious how an American misses them when travelling 
 abroad. To conjure up the spirit of a julep in a distant coun- 
 try is a favourite expression ; and as the sound of the Ranz-de- 
 vache was said to have affected the Swiss shepherds in a foreign 
 land, so does the recollection of a " sherry cobbler" produce a 
 most inordinate longing when away from home. 
 
 To illustrate : 
 
 We once met in Geneva, sitting in the gardens under the 
 very shadow of a statue of Rousseau, a young man who boasted 
 of being an immense traveller. The blue water of the Rhone 
 — or, as Byron calls it, the " river-child" of the lake — was 
 mingling its waters with its " delightful paient" — the Alps on 
 one side, and the peaks of the Jura on the other, rose majesti- 
 cally to view — a golden haze was stealing along the horizon — 
 and, not to grow unnecessarily poetical, every object around 
 formed a scene of grandeur and beauty. Our friend gazed 
 curiously about him, and turning, said — 
 
 
113 
 
 u This is a grand sight, I must say." .. 
 
 We concurred. 
 
 " The lake's as clear as crystal, and delightfully calm." 
 
 " Charming." 
 
 " Those cloud-wreaths about the Alps almost inspire one." 
 
 u I can easily imagine it." 
 
 " There is no question of it. This is one of the sweetest, 
 calmest views in the world ; and I only want one thing now to 
 make me perfectly happy." 
 
 " What's that !" we inquired. 
 
 " A well-iced sherry cobbler !" 
 
 Bearing in mind the quantity of sour wine the aforesaid 
 person had drunk during his stay at Geneva, we did not so 
 
 much marvel at the ridiculousness of the request. 
 
 * # # # 
 
 Although American ladies, as a general rule, set their faces 
 against liquor, no matter how ingeniously commingled or intro- 
 duced, yet at evening parties or pic-nics, the cobblers, if made 
 mild in taste and magnificent in ornament, forego excommuni- 
 cation. Three or four of the " dear creatures" love to select 
 long firm straws, and joining their little white foreheads until 
 the tumbler has a perfect canopy of curls, all sip at one time 
 through the slender tubes — now sipping, now chatting, now 
 laughing. Merely for the occasion, we will call one Fanny, 
 another Sue, the third Blanche, and Lisette the last of the 
 group. Fanny and Sue are cousins, perhaps — perhaps not — 
 but certain it is, the former expresses herself warmly in favour 
 of the julep before them. 
 
 " Grirls, I dont care what you say," for Fanny has a little 
 positive will of her own ; " that is what I call particularly good. 
 What do you think, Lisette ?" 
 
 Lisette, who has extremely long eyelashes, and a pair of red 
 lips of voluptuous expression, replies that " she must agree as 
 to its palatableness " 
 
114 * DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " My respected ma says it's very bad for young people," says 
 Blanche, with the corners of her mouth contracted 5 " but on 
 this occasion I humbly beg leave to differ with her." 
 
 " I like it better than water-ice. infinitely," says Sue, taking 
 a long sip and a long breath alternately. " It makes me as 
 lively and full of spirits as a dose of ether." 
 
 " Well, girls, shall we have one more — just one more ?" pro- 
 poses Fanny. " Two among four of us is nothing." 
 
 " If you are sure it won't get in our heads," remarks Lisette. 
 
 " Get in our heads ! Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughs Blanche. " Tho 
 idea — dreadful — ha ! " ha ! You might as well wonder whether 
 it'll get in our boots. Ha ! ha !" 
 
 And then the group chatter and giggle. Blanche tickles 
 Lisette with her straw while her head is averted, and then asks 
 her, with a wicked innocence of face, whether the flics are trou- 
 blesome. She has a delightfully tiny wheaten combat with 
 Fanny, and ends it by affecting to receive a mortal wound in 
 the ringlet. At length the fresh cobbler arrives, embellished 
 with new straws, and soon four darling pairs of lips are indus- 
 trious in a small way, with the occasional variation of a droll 
 exclamation, and the inquiry — 
 
 " Dear me, isn't it nice V 
 
115 
 
 WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 
 
 AN ADVENTURE. 
 
 While resting in San Francisco, after the toils of an arduous 
 route from Panama, over hill and mountain, covered with every 
 variety of luxuriant growth, I was induced by a friend — an old 
 schoolmate, and as brave a fellow as ever sought fortune in a 
 far-off country — to join him in a trip up the American River, 
 and pay a flying visit to the mines. I had grown weary of the 
 dullness of the California capital, and, therefore, did not require 
 much persuasion to fly the motley metropolis, and seek new 
 adventures among the treasure-seekers, knowing well, that if I 
 were not too easily prostrated by the intensity of the climate 
 and the wildness of the country, I should certainly experience 
 changes that might in somewise administer to an innate 16 ve of 
 novelty. We tucked what apparel we wanted in a brace of 
 stout carpet-bags, and attiring ourselves in coarse suits of 
 deer-skin, set off with a cavalcade consisting of three heavily- 
 laden wagons drawn by twelve oxen, accompanied by five 
 horsemen, and the same number of pedestrians, all of whom 
 chanced to be going our way. 
 
 If there is one thing more than another in this singular coun- 
 try that may be regarded as an oddity, it is a white shirt. Not 
 that shirts in themselves are oddities — by no means — but it is 
 that particular colour, or no colour, as the reader may choose. 
 | An abundance of striped patterns — blue, brown, yellow, pink, 
 orange, red, and even purple arc seen, but rarely such a thing 
 as a distinct white. I frequently saw a shirt that had once been 
 
116 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 white; but long before it reached the El Dorado, it had 
 resigned all pretensions to its primitive purity. My friend, 
 Tom Bruce, being a singular genius, the day of our departure, 
 out of some eccentric whim, put on a clean white shirt. The 
 collar was starched to the extreme of stiffness, the bosom ruffled 
 in the most unexceptionable mode, and, by way of finish, the 
 wristbands were laced and fine-stitched to a degree faultless. 
 Tom looked a Beau Brummel in this dainty vesture. 
 
 " Why Tom," said I, eyeing him with an expression of curi- 
 osity, " what does all of this mean?' 3 and I pointed at the 
 elegant garment aforesaid. 
 
 " Oh, never mind," returned he, " I've a strange whim. I 
 was looking over my duds this morning, and what did I find 
 but this fine shirt. It's one I had made to go to a number of 
 club balls last winter in New-York, when 1 was paying my 
 
 devoirs to little Nolly V ; but no matter, I'm agoing to 
 
 wear it just for luck, as we Q-othamites say. and sec what it 
 brings. Mark my words now. and I'll bet you a dime that this 
 very shirt at which you gaze will get us out of a fix before we 
 get home." 
 
 I laughed at Tom's words ; and as the garment of the same 
 class that I wore was a yellow ground, ornamented here and 
 there with what had been intended to represent pointed poplar 
 trees, but which in reality looked more like pinched pickles, 
 from the fact of their being shapeii to the quaintest extreme, 
 like that popular condimental vegetable — why, the contrast was 
 to an extraordinary degree grotesque and impressive. 
 
 Tom's shirt was the point of every inquiring gaze. The mas- 
 ter-teamster, a red-haired Englishman, who had emigrated from 
 somewhere in the neighbourhood of " Brummagem," as he 
 called it, was so struck with it that he liked to have opened his 
 eye-gates to accommodate a flood of tears, so forcibly did it re- 
 mind him of one which his master, a greengrocer, had worn " at 
 home" on holidays and great occasions. 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 117 
 
 We had not proceeded more than a " bluetrail," as they term 
 ten miles in that country, than we struck into a beaten road to 
 the north-east, and were full upon the prairie. Here we met a 
 party of Kanakas going home to Honalula, and for a trifle I 
 purchased a pack-mare, on which Tom and myself rode alter- 
 nately. This animal was the most perfect realization of stub- 
 bornness — a pig was docile to her — and we were sorry we had 
 meddled with a beast so unworthy of even humane consideration. 
 The more we petted her, the more she exhibited her headstrong 
 contumaciousness. If she was required to go to the right, she was 
 sure to incline to the left ; and if there was a wagon-rut in the 
 path there was no help for her stumbling over it, Tom would 
 mount her and take the carpet-bags, while I walked behind and 
 used the gad, as I had seen the Mexican vaquero do ; but this 
 was no avail ; she only reared on her fore-legs and threw up the 
 dirt in our faces with her hind ones in derision of our efforts. 
 Then Tom would descend, and I would take his place ; he had 
 a sinewy arm, and would "lay On" to the fullest of his strength, 
 but it availed nothing. Then we would both walk, and swing- 
 ing the carpet-bags over her d la panniers, like virtuous wood- 
 cutters in the olden time, we besought our beast of burden to 
 advance, much to the amusement of every species of nation that 
 we passed on our road. 
 
 I have read in " Ye Chronicles of Mcrrie England" of sun- 
 dry racks and tortures, invented by certain wicked men, and 
 concealed in subterranean passages under a well-known edifice, 
 called the " Tower of London," where Anne Boleyn and other 
 notable persons have left their heads at certain bye-gone periods; 
 and although my usually amiable nature revolts at anything in 
 the shape of punishment, yet I freely confess that if I could 
 have applied the severest of these tortures to that mare, I 
 should not have hesitated a moment to do so. The nursery 
 story of the old woman who invoked the aid of a certain stick 
 to beat her pig, and because the stick refused to perform such 
 
118 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 an office, was finally consumed by fire, is not a parallel with our 
 case, pre-eminent as that celebrated nursery incident may 
 appear in confirming the fact of animal obstinacy Our cortege 
 had got so far ahead of us from the delays, that we slipped the 
 mare's bridle over her head, and walked in advance of her. Then 
 only, and on such conciliating terms of compromise, would she 
 condescend to be guided by us. 
 
 " Well, curse me !" said Tom, finally, after exercising every 
 spark of his ingenuity to induce the creature to carry one of 
 us — she would bear me longer than Tom, because he was the 
 heavier of the two — and throwing back his sun-burnt sombrero 
 with the air of a man deeply perplexed, with just a shade of 
 mortification resting on his brow — " Well, curse me ! if that 
 mare wouldn't astonish the Browns, and they say that nothing 
 surprises that numerous family. You may depend on it - 
 been trained to this mryiclding stubbornness. Would'nt I like 
 to have her harnessed to a bark mill in Pennsylvania. Pi ; 
 she would not work then. Perhaps not, or I'd take the hide 
 from her as close as a nutshell. Come along." 
 
 " By the bye," suggested I, " we have not given the dragon a 
 name. Is there any precedent in nature, mythology, or any- 
 where else, for the matter of that, to out-do this wretched beast ? 
 Think, Tom, think. When we first bought her, I thought of 
 calling her ' Bess,' but the name is too musical by far, is it not ?" 
 
 " Bess !" quoth Tom, in a positive rage — his eyes dilating as 
 he dragged the beast with a smart jerk — " Bess, I think you 
 said. I wouldn't disgrace the name by applying it to such a 
 surly, perverse specimen of female horse-flesh ;" and the mare at 
 this moment relaxing her rein, stopped to browse on a tuft of 
 long rank grass which overtopped a spring. " Hey ! get out of 
 that, you old jade ! Come 'long !" and he pulled the rein with 
 such a quick snap that, half frightened out of her wits, she 
 iumped forward and ambled as prettily as could be for a short 
 distance. 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 119 
 
 li Well, Tom, have you thought of a name for her ?" said I, 
 after a few moments had elapsed. Tom held his head down, and 
 appeared to be brooding over our mutual vexation, and did not 
 hear my question. I repeated it. He started slightly, as if dis- 
 turbed from a reverie. 
 
 " I've just been thinking. 1 ' said he in a half-musing manner, 
 of a match for this varmint ; and he took the gad from my 
 hand, and turning around, gave her a cordial salute over her 
 haunches as he spoke. " It puzzles me to the extremest to think 
 of a proper name. Diogenes was a cynical old scamp, but that's 
 a masculine name, and then he had some good traits to admire. 
 Xantippe, the wife of Socrates, was a Tartar, but then she 
 could'nt have been so completely lost to all feeling. Let me 
 see, who else is there ? Oh, if is time thrown away to think. 
 Let us call her ' Hag,' simply ' Hag.' and be hanged to her." 
 
 " Be it so," rejoined I, in accordance. 
 
 And " Hag" was the animal's name from that moment. 
 
 The first day of our journey up the river was over a soil of 
 deep fine sand, slightly mixed with loam. We passed a number 
 of private ranchos, the property of early settlers. The river, 
 for many miles, was only forty or fifty feet from us, and at in- 
 tervals it flashed on our view in the bright sunlight, dazzling 
 our gaze ; then it gracefully receded, and was lost, as it were, 
 in a gentle declivity, when presently it reappeared, brighter and 
 more magnificent than before. The current varies; in some 
 places it is as placid and serene as a lake, while in others it 
 dashes along with a force madly impetuous. The spring floods 
 were not yet at their greatest height, and the stream appeared 
 only a few yards in width ; yet the overhanging banks, which 
 jutted far over, and seemed to kiss the water's edge, bore un- 
 mistakeable evidences of the manner in which they had resisted 
 the furious career of the wild tides. 
 
 Night gradually stole upon us, and our commander-in-chief 
 ordered a halt. Our place of encampment was a hollow between 
 
120 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 two slightly rising knolls, which my companion, Tom, christened, 
 u First Night's Nest" — they have queer names in California, — 
 and his fiat was respectfully marked, although he was not the 
 discoverer, certain traces of ash-heaps and broken crockery giv- 
 ing assurance that there had been visitors there before us. Our 
 next care was to procure wood to feed the camp fires, and Tom 
 and myself were deputed to assist in the important search. We 
 held a consultation. 
 
 " What do you say — shall we take the marc with us or not?" 
 inquired I of Tom, who stood surveying the creature in ques- 
 tion with his arms folded. 
 
 " To the fiends with her !" roared my companion, " she'll keep 
 us back ;" and he had not more than uttered this laconic observ* 
 ation than, prancing on her fore-feet with almost superhuman 
 agility, the mare threw up such huge daubs of mud that one 
 alighting on his peerless shirt-front, garnished it in the highest 
 possible style. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" and everybody that witnessed the sudden 
 caper echoed the eachinnatory gust, •• Ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 Tom did not say a Word, but picking up a sycamore twig, 
 coolly commenced scraping oil' the dirt. A storm then grew on 
 my friend's brow, and approaching me, he said, in a tone of 
 voice that indicated the most malignant anger, M What did you 
 pay for that mare ?" 
 
 I named the amount. 
 
 " Will you sell her to me for the same sum ?" 
 
 u Why. Tom, what are you a-going to do ? Not speculate on 
 her, I hope." 
 
 " Never mind ; will you sell her ':'" 
 
 I smiled. 
 
 Tom continued, " if you will sell her to me, I'll shoot her on 
 the spot, the old hussey." He glanced at his shirt bosom. 
 " Look at that ! Isn't it enough to make a nervous man trem- 
 ble with rage ?' 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 121 
 
 I ridiculed the fanciful auger of poor Tom, and be was soon 
 dissuaded from his purpose, otherwise he would have bought 
 the provoking animal for the pleasure of dispatching her on the 
 spot. 
 
 Staking the horses and oxen to the rear of the wagons, with 
 ample hide lariats, we marched off in different directions to 
 search for fagots. Sufficient being procured, we lighted our 
 camp-fires, while others unpacked the wagons and brought forth 
 the provisions. Salt pork and hard crackers were among the 
 luxuries of our supper ; but, rough as the fare was, the day's 
 journey made these deliriously welcome. Our commander-in- 
 chief, a stout round-shouldered hoosier, from one of the far 
 west States, proposed that we should retire early, and resume 
 our march by day-break, to which the greater part of the com- 
 pany agreed, and disposing themselves in coarse blankets, were 
 soon wedding slumber in the most approved fashion of gold 
 adventurers. 
 
 As the depredations of the coyotes, or prairie wolves, are fre- 
 quent, Tom and myself, although we were both weary, signified 
 our intentions to our leader to keep watch that night, and, 
 without a word, we were chosen sentinels. 
 
 It was a bright, clear night, and the moon in unclouded 
 splendour riding in a sky altogether Italian, beamed on every 
 object with such soft brilliancy, that we could define the distance 
 for miles around. With the exception of the waving of the 
 giant grass that grew profusely in all directions, the snoring of 
 the men, and the occasional restlessness of the oxen as they 
 tugged at their lariats, all around was wrapped in the most 
 inspiring stillness. Making a circuit of our little camp, we 
 found everything secure, and couching on two large stones 
 beside the blazing fagots, that sent up a red mass of smoke and 
 sparkles high into the air, Tom fell to humming an old melody 
 that he said reminded him so much of home. Soon after, he 
 did not say a word, but rested his eyes on the glowing embers, 
 
122 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 and seemed absorbed iu meditation. Not caring to disturb him 
 from his reverie, I followed his example, and gradually my 
 thoughts reverted to my pleasant home, and the many happy 
 associations connected with it As the air was keen and 
 searching, I pulled my blanket closer around me, and resting 
 my elbows on my knees, fell into a gentle doze. I had not been 
 long in this position before I was startled by Tom's making a 
 desperate leap, as if pursued by a wolf. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" cried I. coining to my feet as suddenly 
 as the alarm warranted the movement. " Tom, what made you 
 start ?" 
 
 My companion merely replied by putting his finger on hi-< 
 lip, and the next instant drew a revolving pistol from his hug*? 
 belt. 
 
 "Hush !" whispered he, in a faint tone, tucking the folds of 
 his blanket in his breast; "I'm sure I saw a man skulking 
 around the provision wagon! Hush!*' I had neglected to 
 take my weapon from my oarpet bag, but seizing a heayy brand 
 from the fire, stood side by side of my companion, in an attitude 
 of defence. 
 
 "I fancy you're mistaken," Baid I. " STou've been dream- 
 ing. Listen, there's scarcely a leaf stirring. You must be 
 deceived.'' 
 
 " No," replied Torn, as before, in a quiet whisper, '• I'll be 
 sworn I saw the figure of a man in the shadow of that wagon. 
 Come with me;" and drawing me gently by the arm, we pro- 
 ceeded to the place where lie thought he had seen the intruder. 
 
 A diligent search proving fruitless, we again seated ourselves 
 beside the fire, which was gradually dying away, and wished 
 with all of our hearts that the morning was come, with its 
 genial sunlight, to disperse the mists that by this time were set- 
 tling on the rolling prairie. 
 
 " I thought you were wrong," said I, looking around on all 
 sides over the vast expanse that everywhere met my gaze. " I'm 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT- 123 
 
 certain that if any of the Indians were on our trail we could 
 see them, the moon is so bright to-night." 
 
 " It may have been a shadow, a spectre, a vision, or whatever 
 you like ; but I'm as certain that I saw something as I see this 
 pistol this minute before me. Besides, you don't know how 
 these red-skinned devils approach travellers. They creep through 
 the long grass on their hands and knees." 
 
 A cold chill ran through me at this intelligence. I had not 
 thought of this secret mode of attack. The grass being ex- 
 tremely long, it would readily conceal the body of a full-grown 
 man in a stooping posture. Without saying another word I 
 chastened to Hag, and took my pistols from the carpet-bag. 
 Just then we both started at the same instant. 
 
 " Don't wake the men, except an emergency demands it," 
 whispered Tcm, cocking his weapon. " I was right ; I saw 
 the grass move by the large wagon." 
 
 Glancing in the direction referred to by my companion, I 
 perceived the long herbage parting as if cleaved by a body of 
 enormous width. It was a moment of anxious doubt. 
 
 " Who goes there ?" shouted Tom, in a gruff voice, pointing 
 the revolver, the barrel of which gleamed in the bright moon- 
 light. 
 
 There was no reply, and the rustling abated for a moment. 
 
 Tom repeated his interrogation in a more decided tone. 
 
 " Who goes there? Answer, or I'll fire !" 
 
 Again the demand was unheeded, and " Hag," uttering a 
 dismal bray, sent forth a scream that caused even the sleepers in 
 the wagons to turn heavily in their slumbers. 
 
 " Blast that beast I" hissed Tom between his teeth, his face 
 assuming the wildest concern ; and then he shrieked — " Who 
 goes there, I say again? One minute more, and as true as 
 Heaven I'll fire!" 
 
 lie kept his word, and before the time he had given the 
 intruder to report himself transpired, he blazed away with his 
 
124 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 revolver, that sent such a shower of red-hot balls whizzing into 
 the grass as c: First Night's Nest" has never witnessed since. 
 
 The sleepers at the first fire were up and roused to action. 
 Our commander-in-chief was as brave as a lion, and, seizing 
 his carbine, proceeded to examine the grass with the utmost 
 caution. 
 
 " Ah!" he exclaimed, addressing my companion, " you were 
 right. See this ;" and stooping he picked up a heavy stiletto, 
 the sheath of which was covered with rust. " He dropped this 
 in his fright, whoever he was; and now I'll look :" and he read 
 by the light of the moon a number of Mexican characters en- 
 graved on the hilt, which clearly denoted that the Spanish 
 roamers were lurking not far distant. Our commander con- 
 tinued— 
 
 " Let every man get out his weapons. These hounds are on 
 our trail, and he whom you have seen is a Bpy that has been 
 sent to learn our movements. I have crossed this route before, 
 and unless the dogs are shown battle, tiny will f)ll.»w as to the 
 end of our journey." 
 
 Providing ourselves with long si camore, or scraggy 
 
 oak boughs, which we used as flambeaux, weapons coofced in 
 hand, our blankets tucked closely into our girdles, we parted 
 company, and, in s [uads of three, scattered over the vast 
 prairie, carefully examining the tall grass, which we pushed 
 aside with our feet. Three men were left to guard the encamp- 
 ment, and in case of surprise from any quarter, a pistol was to 
 be fired as a signal. To:n, myself, and the red-haired teamster 
 composed our squad, and the latter individual was in the 
 greatest possible alarm lest, as he walked, he should stumble 
 over the " henemy," to use his own expression. His knees 
 trembled under him, and his scattered hair falling down over 
 his dingy unwashed face, his eyes at the same time starting 
 from their sockets, the singularity of his whole appearance was 
 so provokingly odd, that even at this moment, beset as we were 
 by danger, neither Tom nor myself could repress a smile. 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 125 
 
 " By gad ! vouldir t I like to bo in Brummagem just about 
 now, with the kinchins and the dame," said the man, half 
 frightened out of his wits as the breeze blew a spark from Tom's 
 torch in his face. " Was that a shot ?" 
 
 It was a glorious spectacle to cast the eye round and behold 
 the nickering firebrands gleaming over the tops of the tall 
 grass. As for as the eye could reach, nothing broke the view 
 — not a tree was to be seen ; and except here and there that a 
 patch of fragrant wild flowers served to diversify the grand 
 level, it was an endless continuity of rank herbage. 
 
 A sharp report of a pistol to the westward broke upon us. 
 
 " Ha ! the signal !" exclaimed Tom, waving his branch, and 
 scattering the scintillations around. u . There's a surprise !" and, 
 without a word, we hastened in the direction of the shot. 
 
 What was our joy and surprise, on reaching the spot, in dis- 
 covering our commander-in-chief and the men standing, with an 
 expression of triumphant satisfaction depicted in every linea- 
 ment, over the prostrate body of a stout, strong-built man, clad 
 in a pink calico shirt, yellow breeches tied with ribbons, and a 
 broad crimson sash fringed at the ends, in which were stuck a 
 brace of formidable stilettoes. He was a Mexican robber. 
 
 Our commander's party had stumbled over the fellow as he 
 lay crouching in the grass, and before he could use his weapons, 
 one of the men dealt him such a blow with the stock of his gun, 
 that he fell stunned in the manner we found him when we came 
 up. Our next care was to pinion his arms, which we did with 
 a stout cord, and, disengaging his weapons from his sash, our 
 commander, shrewdly suspecting he was a spy, and that a ren- 
 dezvous was not far ofF, questioned him in regard to his asso- 
 ciates. As he would give us no satisfaction, but maintained a 
 sullen silence, we stationed him in the centre of a group of the 
 men, in order to avoid the possibility of an escape — these 
 Irancheros are desperate villains — and retraced our steps to our 
 encampment, the fire of which having been replenished by fresh 
 
126 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 bundles of fagots and dry yellow grass, was crac 
 throwing up dense volumes of smoke. 
 
 At the suggestion of our commander we formed a 
 war, and ranging ourselves, Indian fashion, around the fire, 
 placed the culprit in the centre of us. Here we had an oppor- 
 tunity of scanning the features of the depredator, who stood 
 with his eyes bent on the ground, his round swarthy face height- 
 ened by the red glare of the blaze that fell upon it. He was 
 somewhat above the middle height, of muscular frame, and his 
 complexion was rendered far more sombre in its color from the 
 contrast it bore to his dense beard and mustache. His eyes 
 were full and of piercing brilliancy, and his nose prominent and 
 slightly aqualine. Disposed as we were around the pile of 
 glowing wood, attired in our grotesque costumes, with the rob- 
 ber in his gay suit, and the wagons, oxen, and horses standing 
 near, unconscious witnesses of what was going forward, the bright 
 moon streaming in a mild blue sky, with a silver mist settling on 
 the earth, the scene was quite picturesque. 
 
 Our commander then proceeded to question the intruder, and 
 sternly demanded <>f him liis reason fir skulking about our 
 cam]), contrary to all principles of law and order. 
 
 "You are a spy; and unless you satisfactorily explain your 
 motive for being in our company, or tell where your band is 
 concealed, you shall die the death you merit." 
 
 The robber heard these words without moving a muscle, or 
 even so much as betraying a sign of uneasiness. 
 
 " Am I, then, to understand that you refuse to comply with 
 our wishes ?" pursued our commander. 
 
 The culprit slowly raised his eyes, and endeavoured by a 
 sharp struggle to disengage his arms from their fastenings. 
 Tom cocked his pistol at the same moment, and the Mexican's 
 brow darkened with rage. 
 
 " Listen, senor, we desire no trifling. Where are your com- 
 panions? Speak, or you die on the spot !" 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 127 
 
 He then growled an expression in broken Spanish, and by an 
 inclination of his head inplied that they were in the westward. 
 
 " Will you conduct us to them ?" asked our leader. 
 
 The robber's face brightened at this query, and he signified 
 his willingness, accompanied with an impatient movement of his 
 legs. 
 
 Our commander meditated for an instant, and seemed to 
 fathom the meaning of the Mexican's cheerfulness to comply 
 with his request. There was danger of a superiority of the 
 number of the robbers, and great loss of life might ensue from 
 a rash rencontre. 
 
 A number of the men conferred together, and as it was near 
 morning, and we desired to make all haste in our journey, it 
 was agreed that we should not sacrifice time, and venture what 
 was still more valuable, life, in pursuing these Mexican despe- 
 radoes, but keep the spy we had captured a close prisoner, and 
 determine in the future in what manner to dispose of him. 
 
 The gray lines of light that flew along the edge of the hori- 
 zon, and the soft flush of crimson in the dim west, told the 
 approach of morning. Already the coyotes were howling in all 
 directions, and flocks of prairie-hens skipped stealthily through 
 the long weeds, billing like a parcel of Scotch pipers. All was 
 bustle and life. A portion of the more dainty of our company 
 got breakfast, which was minus coffee, a deprivation which in 
 travelling is severely felt ; others washed the dishes, an unplea- 
 sant duty to trowsered humanity ; while others harnessed the 
 oxen, and got the wagons in readiness for starting. Notwith- 
 standing the commotion our adventure had caused in the little 
 camp, it soon subsided, and all was as tranquil as before. It 
 was unanimously agreed that the spy should walk pinioned 
 behind one of the wagons, and he was accordingly secured to 
 the foremost of the procession. 
 
 As my companion, Tom, was in a facetious mood at having 
 discovered so important a villain — for villains now-a-days are 
 
128 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 deemed of the highest consequence, if we can credit the news- 
 papers — he signified his intention to curry our old pack-mare. 
 Her coat being rough and frowsy, it added to her otherwise 
 ungainly appearance, and the opinion seemed mutual that a 
 good brushing would be of service. Finding an old snaggled 
 curry-comb in the boot of one of the wagons, Tom led out the 
 creature, and tying her to a stake secured in the ground, went 
 industriously to work, commencing at her short curling mane 
 and thick-set neck. She was passive under this part of the 
 operation ; but he had no sooner passed the implement down 
 to her fetlocks and pastern than she set up a terrific neigh, and 
 dilated her nostrils in a frightful manner. 
 
 " W-o-a, Hag, stand still I" shrieked Tom. 
 
 But the more he inveighed, the more Hag snorted. 
 
 " W-o-a now ! w-o-a [" and he patted her so caressingly, that 
 she suspended her demonstrations of disl 
 
 " You must be more careful, Tom/' said I, looking on ami 
 suppressing a smile at his solicitude. " Use her tenderly; see, 
 her knees are scratched."' 
 
 Tom again fell to work. He went on fur Borne time, but did 
 not dare to touch her 1< 
 
 " Now she's quiet, I'll try her haunches," said he, and pass- 
 ing the comb down that vicinity, she uttered a loud wail, and 
 kicking up her legs with tremendous force, sent Tom flying into 
 the fire, burying his head in the smouldering ashes, and black- 
 ing his elegant white shirt in such a manner as to metamorphose 
 him completely. I ran to his assistance, and after some little 
 trouble rescued my ill-fated companion. He was charred from 
 head to foot, and a piece of live coal having touched the tip of 
 his nose, that organ reminded me somewhat of Bardolph's red 
 and numerous feature in the play. 
 
 " Did you ever see such an unlucky devil,'' said Tom, the 
 hot water startiug from his eyes. " Ain't I a model for an 
 artist ? Why a dustman would look pale by comparison. I 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 129 
 
 ask you in a friendly way, what ought to be done with that old 
 hussy ?" and he pointed at Hag, who, seemingly half-conscious 
 of the damage she had done, stood winking her large dull eyes, 
 and looking stupidly on, occasionally giving her shaggy tail a 
 lazy switch, as if satisfied that she had performed a Christian 
 duty. 
 
 " My advice is, that you let her alone, and think no more of 
 improving her dress. She's an unworthy object of your tender 
 regard," I said in a soothing tone. 
 
 " I'll tell you what we'll do," cried Tom, brushing the ashes 
 from his garments; "I'll make a bargain for us to ride in the 
 wagon — I can easily arrange it with the red-headed teamster — 
 and if our commander will permit it, we'll bind that Mexican 
 robber on her back. We'll thereby have a double revenge. 
 He's pretty heavy, and she'll have the trouble of carrying him, 
 and he'll be shaken to a jelly by her capers. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 I assented at once, in consideration of his recent misfortune. 
 Tom gained the commander's approval, and without more 
 ado we strapped the spy on to her back, somewhat after the 
 manner of Mazeppa. The robber begged hard to be allowed to 
 proceed as had first been arranged, vowing with many curses 
 in his broken dialect, that the mare would crush him to death. 
 ]3ut the punishment was too well merited, and he was obliged 
 to bear the infliction. 
 
 Tom was in high glee as he witnessed the mutual discomfit- 
 ure that his plan occasioned. Those modern and familiar 
 tortures — tossing in a blanket and bestriding a rail — were 
 mdeed eclipsed. Hag would snort and strike her sides vio- 
 lently ; then piteli forward, and full on her fore-knees ; then, 
 rearing up, would roll downwards, with a heavy fall, and endea- 
 vour to shake the burden from her back: again, she would 
 plunge madly from side to side, throwing her hoofs high in the 
 air ; and then, what was worse than all, lying flat on her sides, 
 
130 dashes or am^rkjan humor. 
 
 and tearing up the ground with her iron shoes, she would bury 
 the victim in the wild grass until he groaned with despair. 
 
 It was now broad daylight, and the sun rising in its majestic 
 loveliness made all bright and glorious. The air was keen and 
 bracing, and stratas of fleecy clouds, edged with gold, were fly- 
 ing like spirits along the sky. The wild bees were out on their 
 busy mission, and seemed to rest on their wings to inhale the 
 perfume of the passing breeze, while the dewdrops were lovingly 
 clinging as though loth to leave the half-open buds of the 
 prairie flowerets. Even the oxen raised up their huge heads 
 and sniffed the sweets of the fresh morning air, and the horses, 
 which the night before had shown themselves dull with languor, 
 bristled up full of spirits, and appeared anxious to perform 
 their tedious round of drudgery. 
 
 We resumed our journey at an early hour, and. with the 
 exception of Tom and myself, who had been up all night, our 
 party was full of life and energy. The incident of the past 
 night had served to inspire the adventurers in a wild and 
 unknown country with a feeling of superstitious romance, and 
 its effect was in the pleasantest manner perceivable. From the 
 fact that there were man)' of us by nature endowed with feel- 
 ings of the hi sibility, and being for the most part 
 treasure-seekers, far from our homes of affection and comfort, 
 we were alive to these impressions of adventure, and enjoyed to 
 the full anything partaking of a fictitious interest. 
 
 A snug bed of blankets and straw being made for us in the 
 baggage-wagon, myself and sentry-companion, with his laurels 
 as a hero fresh on his brow, turned in. Tom drew himself up 
 in the form of something like a figure 4, and burying his head 
 in the blankets was soon in Dream-land. 
 
 Although fatigued with watching and travel I happened to 
 be in just one of those moods when Slumber stands at a little 
 distance off in the most provoking manner, defying you to em- 
 brace her, despite your wooing. I laid for some time watching 
 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 131 
 
 the large flies alight on the broad wet noses of the oxen in the 
 rear of us — and such fandangoes as those flies indulged in were, 
 to an observer, fraught with a tricky oddness. It seemed as if 
 they had adopted this particular spot as a play-ground, and 
 were enjoying themselves at a game of hide-and-seek. Buzzing 
 around in the air, and executing an incredible number of fan- 
 tastic evolutions, one of these large green insects would settle, 
 walk around the rim of the great nostril, and finally creep in. 
 Soon, another fly would perform a similar movement, and 
 seeking, as it were, for his playfellow, would dart after him with 
 a noisy buzz. Then out would fly the twain, and off they 
 would go a short way into the air, and strike each other with 
 their mottled wings. Then they would run with amazing rapid- 
 ity the full area of the nostril, pausing once and awhile to 
 indulge in some gambol known only to insects, and away as 
 before, only one up each of the circular chasms. After staying 
 there for a moment, with seeming cautiousness they would creep 
 to the edge and appear to peep at each other with a glance of , 
 discernment; then out they flew again, and, poising for a second 
 in the air, would hurl themselves with a noiseless clash, and 
 shoot up far out of sight. The poor oxen trudged onward all 
 the time with a patient tread, little knowing what a field of 
 pleasure their broad brown noses were affording the merry in- 
 sects of the prairie. 
 
 Nature exhausted soon exerted her sway, and ere long, like 
 Tom, who was snoring by my side, I dropped to sleep ; when 
 I awoke it was past four o'clock in the afternoon, and I found 
 myself at a stopping-place on the road, called the "Blue Tent." 
 We had left the forks of the road where it diverged towards 
 the first digging, at Mormon Islands on the river, and the roll- 
 ing prairie we had traversed now gradually broke into steep 
 hills, covered only with grass, or occasional rocks near the top. 
 
 Looking out of my travelling bed-room, which I did without 
 the trouble of pushing aside cur tains or raising windows, I 
 
132 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 found the " Blue Tent" to consist of a log-house of rude con- 
 struction, with no second story, and a large chimney, from 
 which the smoke was issuing in thick black masses. Why it 
 had been termed the u Blue Tent," was to me a matter of mys- 
 tery, as I could see nothing about it to warrant its name — 
 unless it were, being a hostel, and provided with the best 
 brands of stimulating agua ardiente, its patrons were made 
 blue, we could divine no reason of the application. This, by 
 the way, however, the Blue Tent, wrongly or properly named, 
 was right welcome, and I descended from my apartment and 
 took a view of the premises. 
 
 A small stream of pure water trickled by the door, and flowed 
 shiningly on into an adjoining meadow. The water seemed so 
 clear and sweet, that I at once thought of applying my parched 
 mouth to it's smooth breast. As I stooped to do so, a stout, 
 sun-burnt man, in a broad sombrero, stepped forward and bade 
 me desist. Denied one of the common properties of life, I asked 
 the meaning of his intern n oce. 
 
 " You may not be aware of it," he said, pulling a tin cup 
 which was suspended by a hook of wire to his belt; " tins 
 stream is private property, and youmust bargain with the land- 
 lord before it can be touched." 
 
 Our commander stepped up and informed me that he was 
 about to make a bargain with the proprietor of the "Blue 
 Tent" for water for the cortege. Of course then I arose. 
 
 The landlord was a dumpy, fit, jolly-looking person, with a 
 face full of benignity ami perspiration, and we soon came to 
 terms — that for a dollar we should have sufficient water for 
 both the men and horses ; a demand which our commander 
 readily assented to, remarking at the same time to me, as I was 
 about to expostulate on the propriety of paying for what 
 appeared so plentiful, that the terms were nothing but reason- 
 able, considering the great scarcity of spring water in that sec- 
 tion of the country. As this was mere custom, I, nothing loth, 
 
WHAT GAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 133 
 
 yielded, and for the first time in my life, paid for a draught of 
 fresh water. 
 
 The scenery around the " Blue Tent " was diversified and 
 picturesque. The small valleys at the base of the hills, and 
 the gently sloping declivities, were covered with irregular 
 groves of white and live oak, forming clear expansive vistas. 
 On these trees, troops of squirrels, with their feather-like tails 
 waving in the wind, were galloping about the evergreen branches 
 in the wildest merriment. A long green mead, powdered at 
 intervals with dainty patches of wild flowers, 'lay like a strip of 
 fairy verdure in the back-ground. We found the brightest 
 selection of colors. There were white, blue, and violet 5 the 
 orange and lemon, fading into the liquid tint of the amber ; 
 the Tyrian purple and soft lilac; the deep crimson, bright 
 scarlet, and modest pink, blended beautifully with the rich sil- 
 ver grass, filling the air with fragrance. These floral gifts, 
 1 growing in most luxurious profusion, are the natural products 
 1 of the country. 
 
 While the animals were being refreshed with deep draughts 
 of water, Tom lighted a calumet, and with his hands placed 
 leisurely on his back, took a stroll around " Hag" and her load 
 of villainy, and with a twinkle of his eye, in which we read the 
 highest satisfaction, turned and said — 
 
 " Well, I think she is served out for her tricks with me, the 
 old dragon — eh ?" 
 
 I nodded assent. 
 
 " She's as knowing as a fox, and curse me if I don't think 
 there's a dash of the reynard in her breed," he observed, 
 laughingly. " But, I say, she's played the devil with my 
 linen," and as Tom looked down on his bosom, of erst as white 
 and stainless as a lily, his countenance fell. " There's no doubt 
 of it, a white shirt in these parts is a rarity, and I fancy these 
 ' ruffles will make the miners stare. I'll put on my pink ranger, 
 and have this washed if it's possible." 
 
134 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 Off lie started, and in a few mimites was in the kitchen 
 conferring with the hostess. She, by dint of the promise of 
 an exorbitant fee, promised to "do up" the garment, a Za?uode, 
 in two hours. She said she had no flat-iron, but would substi- 
 tute the scoured bottom of a bran new tea -kettle to do the 
 pressing ; and true to her word, in a few moments the laced 
 article was floating in a barrel of suds, and in another half-hour 
 we beheld it fluttering on the clothes-line. I afterwards wit- 
 nessed the old lady's substitution of the new style of flat-iron, 
 and considering the awkwardness of the implement, the shirt 
 actually looked well, although a Parisian I use might 
 
 have scowled at the fold of the ruffles. 
 
 As the journey before us was extremely tedious, and having 
 business in San Francisco, we mutually decided on remaining 
 at the '-Blue Tent" until the following day, when our host in- 
 formed us that a caravan would be passing on the homeward 
 route. There were all sorts of luxuries, too, in the way of 
 beef-steaks, onions, and black tea, to be procured where we 
 were, and so we abandoned our original project of visiting the 
 mines. Disposing of " Hag" to our commander, we enjoined 
 him to take good care of the beast, and on no account to let 
 the spy give him the slip. He promised us that our wishes 
 should be complied with, and signified his determination of 
 taking the Mexican captain to the mines, and setting him to 
 work in the gulches under a constant guard. This we highly 
 approved of, as it was turning the rogue to some account, and 
 keeping him out of mischief for a brief season at least. 
 
 That same night the cortege departed, and, with many ex- 
 pressions of regret on either side at so soon parting company, 
 they took up their line of march, and Tom and I were left to 
 ourselves. 
 
 After a hearty meal, we were put to sleep in hammocks sus- 
 pended from two tall sycamores at the back of the cabin, 
 where we lay looking at the stars through the lattice of boughs 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 135 
 
 and leaves until past midnight. These hammocks are cosy 
 contrivances, and one feels as if he were, after the fashion of 
 Mahomet's coffin, placed something between heaven and earth, 
 with no thanks to a board floor for support. I slept soundly 
 till daybreak, and with the exception of a slight numbness in 
 the limbs, felt as much refreshed as if I had been pillowed on a 
 couch of down in the grandest chamber of Hampton Court. 
 
 Notwithstanding the earnest assurances of the landlord that 
 he was in hourly expectation of a caravan going to San Fran- 
 cisco, none came, and we were compelled to stop over another 
 day at his house. We amused ourselves during the time with 
 shooting at eagles and wild geese — we only shot at them, for 
 our pistols would not reach them by fifty feet — and of making 
 garlands of the wild flowers that we plucked in the meadow. 
 These unsatisfactory pastimes, with strolls over the hills in 
 search of minerals, constituted the principal of our enjoyments, 
 and, seeking our hammocks at an early hour, went through the 
 same course of counting the stars and chatting about home 
 and the " girls we left behind us." 
 
 A third day came, but no caravan, and we were getting 
 frightfully tired of the monotonous course of life at the " Bluo 
 Tent." I had almost made up my mind to alone seek my way 
 back to Sutter's Fort, but the landlord and his wife assured me 
 that I would either fall a prey to the coyotes, or to a surety be 
 murdered by the Mexican rancheros. On reflection, the danger 
 was so apparent, to say nothing of the want of society over the 
 dull prairie I had so lately crossed, that I thought it advisable 
 to make the best of the matter by choosing the lesser of the two 
 evils. 
 
 As the charge of our host was anything but reasonable, and 
 as his spouse, an elderly little dumpling, as broad as she was 
 long — seemed to exercise a deal of authority over the public 
 arrangements of the house, with a careful eye to the financial 
 interests, we found our stock of ca^li u'»uj^ with prodigal rapid- 
 
136 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR 
 
 ity. Every article ordered we were compelled to pay for on | 
 delivery, and as we were seeking adventure, we lived to an extra- 
 ordinary degree, what would be termed in England " fast." Tom l 
 was lavish in the extreme, and considering the position of mat- 
 ters, and where we were, it was heart-rending, and decided I 
 assassination to the largest purse, to hear him demand his " steaks I 
 and hot slap-jacks" with such apathetic coolness. A written I 
 code of stipulations, pasted up in a conspicuous manner on a 
 fast-ticking Yankee clock, informed us. that as •• provisions were 
 scarce and dear, it was necessary for visitors to be strictly punc- 
 tual in their payments;" and thisgentle hint being coupled with 
 the fact that the hostess was uncompromisingly particular in her 
 claims, we had, adopting the Californian exjn-cssion, to "pony 
 up" at every turn. Eaeli meal cost us, joiotly, three dollars, 
 and the hammocks fifty cents, and as the caravan did not make 
 its appearance on the fifth day of our sojourn, we were penniless. 
 
 lloving about among the grassy arroyos, scrambling through 
 the tall grasses and over the hills, a change of linen became 
 highly necessary, and Tom once more resumed his white shirt. 
 As he came parading out in front of the house, I observed our 
 hostess watching him with a close gaze; and as she turned on 
 her heel, and walked back into her mansion, she said to herself \ 
 in an audible tone : — 
 
 " Well, 'pon my life, there's a comical idea, for a man to be 
 wearing ruffles, and hasn't got a tester to pay for his hammock. 
 Sich people ought'nt to receive charity, and I'll give 'em no 
 countenance." 
 
 " There, Tom, did you hear that ?" said I ; " the old lady is 
 out on your ruffles, and she'll show us no quarter in consequence. . 
 Mark my word, that shirt has so gone against her ideas of pro- 
 priety, that she'll not give us a thing more to eat without a 
 tire-payment, and you know we haven't a shilling to bless our- 
 selves with." 
 
 " Hang her !" replied Tom, pulling out his empty pockets, 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 137 
 
 and scattering a few crumbs on the ground, -- I'd have her know 
 that this is no common sample of handiwork. She's too fat to 
 appreciate this fine stitching, and such needle-work overcomes 
 her nerves." 
 
 " That's not the point/' said I, moodily, u it doesn't better 
 our condition. However, there's no use of being cast down, 
 something must soon turn up." 
 
 " And will as sure's your born," interrupted he, " what's the 
 quotation ? In the bright lexicon of youth — which interesting 
 period of life we have passed somewhat — there's no such word 
 as—" 
 
 Before he could finish the sentence our attention was suddenly 
 arrested by a group of wildly clad men, issuing from a clump 
 of scraggy oaks before us, which, as they drew nearer, proved to 
 be Indians. The}* followed each other in regular file, and kept 
 time to the thumping of a rude drum, about the size of a water 
 pail, that sent a hollow reverberation over the hills. 
 
 -- Here's strange company," said Tom, with an apparent mis- 
 giving as to the nature of the new-comers. u I wonder if 
 they are friendly. Ho ! landlord, who are these gentry in 
 wampum ?" 
 
 A glance at the face of the individual addressed plainly indi- 
 cated that nothing was to be apprehended ; for no sooner did 
 he obtain a glimpse of the beaded file, than, without even an- 
 swering Tom's question, he hailed to his wife at the top of his 
 lungs : — 
 
 " Mab, Mab, the Injuns are comin', and Whitetop's with 
 them !" 
 
 Mistress Mab dropped a basin of broth at this intelligence, 
 with so much precipitation, that she scalded her fingers, and 
 wheezing loudly, made her way in front of the house. By this 
 time they had halted on the margin of the stream, and their 
 chief making a sign to them with his bow, they all set up a rude 
 howl to the overcoming din of the drum, after which they ran 
 
138 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 up to the hostess, and shook her warmly by the hand. Bestow- 
 ing her greatest favour on the most gaudily dressed of the 
 group, who was a tall, muscular man, she said : — 
 
 " Well, now, Whitetop, I'm so glad to see you. How well 
 you're looking ; and, my soul's alive ! what a pouch of gold 
 you've got ! You've had rare luck, or I'm no prophet." 
 
 Whitetop received these words with many signs of pleasure, 
 and, without uttering a word intelligible to us, cast his eye at a 
 long leathern pouch that hung by his side, and soon entered the 
 hostel. • 
 
 His tribe, some sixteen in number, were partially clad in every 
 variety of gay and tawdry costume, obtained at the trading- 
 posts, and wore moccasins of buckskin worked with beads. 
 Their heads were ornamented with long feathers, dyed red and 
 yellow, and most of them had broad metal rings dangling in their 
 noses. Their complexion was a dark mahogany, with high 
 cheekbones, wide mouths, noses nearly flat, and hair straight, 
 black and c ith low foreheads, and small jet-black i 
 
 They were the remnant of a once powerful tribe, we afterwards 
 learned, from the head-quarters of the Sacramento, known as 
 the " Friendly Squatters." 
 
 Refreshing themselves at the stream, without even as much 
 as asking permission, with gestures of the most incoherent char- 
 acter, they entered the " Blue Tent,'' and partook of a feast of 
 bear-meat, which they had brought with them, wrapped in a 
 blanket, and roast acorns, and then washed the whole down with 
 deep drafts of whisky. After this, they gradually re-appeared 
 on the plaza, and scattered themselves about on the grass, with 
 their legs crossed, and smoked a rank weed which they cure, 
 in long pipes, and sent clouds of strong-scented smoke rolling 
 and reeling into the breeze. Presently the chief, Whitetop, 
 appeared, and coming in the direction were Tom and I were seat- 
 ed, made a motion to us to approach him. We did so, and in 
 a series of most inexpressive pantomime, which was interpreted 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 139 
 
 by the host, intimated that it would give him pleasure if we 
 would join him in a friendly pipe. We assented in the blandest 
 manner ; and first taking a whiff from a long bone-handled cal- 
 umet, the bowl of which was hollowed out of a thin and almost 
 transparent stone, he passed it first to Tom, who followed his 
 example, and then to me acting in the like manner, although I 
 most honestly confess, not without some feeling of repugnance, 
 as I was always partial from boyhood, when I did indulge, 
 to my own private meerschaum, and no thanks to my neigh- 
 bours, while the operation of puffing was going on. 
 
 I observed that while the Indian chief was smoking he occa- 
 sionally ogled Tom's white shirt in the most significant manner, 
 and seemed to regard the ruffled portion with a gaze of curiosity. 
 This did not escape my companion, for every now and then he 
 adjusted the plaits on the bosom, and set them out to the great- 
 est advantage, no motion of which was lost on the chief. After 
 we had done smoking he pulled the stem from the bowl of the 
 calumet, and thrusting them into a fold of his sash, leaned over 
 on his arm, and, with an expression of interest in his brilliant 
 little eyes, examined closely the seams of the wrist-bands, and 
 plucked at the lace with his thumb and fore-finger, as if striving 
 to divine what the closely-wove threadwork could be. 
 
 " That's something of a novelty, great chief," said Tom, ex- 
 changing a glance with me. " It's what we call a white shirt ; 
 and that," he continued, pointing to the ruffles, a is linen cam- 
 bric and lace. Do you admire it ?" 
 
 The chief appeared to comprehend what was said to him, and 
 nodded his head affirmatively. 
 
 " Will white man sell shirt, eh ?" said he in an imperfect ac- 
 cent, speaking rapidly. " I like to have him — he be great thing 
 for squaw at home in west." 
 
 The Indians in speaking of their home invariably say it is in 
 the west. Whitetop, with a number of strange gestures, con- 
 tinued — 
 
140 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " I give you gold for white ," and pausing for a moment 
 
 I perceived he had forgotten the name. 
 
 " Shirt," I remarked, promptingly. 
 
 " Yes, shirt — much gold — what you take, eh ?"' 
 
 " I'll leave it to your own will, great chief,'' said Tom, who, 
 not knowing what the Indian might be induced to give for the 
 garment, tacitly desired, like a true Yankee as he was, to drive 
 a bargain on the most advantageous terms. But the chief did 
 not fully comprehend him. 
 
 " I say ril leave it to yourself — give me what you think it's 
 worth," pursued Tom. 
 
 " I'll give you gold-ounces." and he numbered five on his fin- 
 gers. 
 
 " Good 1 M said Tom. " For five ounces of gold the shirt 
 shall be yours," and speaking aside to me, sotto voce, said, 
 " That's a fair figure, is'nt it, old fellow ?" 
 
 The Indian, unshackling his pouch from his side, spread out 
 a bit of cloth on the ground, and pouring a pile of precious dust, 
 and balancing it in the palm of his hand, as if it were a scale, 
 handed it to Tom and said, 
 
 " There! white shir' mine; — ounces,*' and he repeated the 
 process of numbering on his lingers. 
 
 Tom received the payment with a glow of satisfaction, and 
 quickly laid the garment before him. No sooner did he receive 
 it, than holding it high in the air. his tribe gathered round him 
 and viewed it with signs of delight, not unmingled with wonder. 
 The chief then folded it with great care, and tucking it in his 
 sash, shook us by the hand ardently, and walked slowly with the 
 assembled red-men into the house. 
 
 " "Well done," said I, slapping my companion on the shoulder. 
 
 11 1 told you something would turn up;" and as Tom spoke, 
 he dangled the little bag of gold exultingly. " Now we've got 
 lots of the ' ready,' and if old Dame Mab does'nt wrap up every 
 word she utters in a smile, we'll cut her acquaintance, and leave 
 the « Blue Tent' in disgust," 
 
WHAT CAME OF A RUFFLED SHIRT. 141 
 
 When the old vixen learned from the Indian what had taken 
 place, and that our finances were so greatly repaired, she was all 
 smiles and condescension, and could not do too much to pro- 
 mote our comfort. It was all thrown away upon us, however, 
 for purchasing a batch of bear-meat from the Indians, we cooked 
 it in an oak glen, and slept on a bed of leaves. It never rains 
 but it pours, and one stroke of good fortune was quickly followed 
 by another. The next day after this adventure, to our great joy, 
 a caravan that was going our route, made its appearance, which 
 we joined on the payment of a trifle, and in five days from the 
 time we turned our backs on the ' Blue Tent,' we were home 
 — or rather, once more in San Francisco. 
 
 It was fortunate for us that we met that party of Squatter 
 Indians, and still more that Tom had taken it into his whimsical 
 head to wear a ruffled. shirt. 
 
142 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. 
 
 Christmas in England and Christmas in America differ 
 slightly in various points, though in the general phases of the 
 festivities of the day there exists a close and wo may Bay a 
 copied resemblance. The English delight in perpetuating the 
 customs of their fathers. While other nations in the strife of 
 popular progress forget old tradii ions, and neglect time-honoured 
 usages, the true Briton still cherishes that which his ancestors 
 decreed; and, by conforming with their whimsical old notions, 
 displays a trait of ancestral regard and unswerving faith rather 
 to be admired than otherwise. Other nations kick down the 
 fashions of past days without even advancing in the scale of 
 progressive enlightenment. Look on the continent of Europe, 
 and we find a tardiness and incertitude absolutely painful. The 
 French are too vivacious and transient to honour old customs; 
 the Italians too lazy ; the Spanish too ardent in passing events ; 
 and the Russians by far too inert. We may, perhaps, except 
 the Germans, who stick to " faderland" and its opinions with a 
 stolidness and inflexibility .quite refreshing. Commercial en- 
 terprise and a social revolution might serve as excuses for for- 
 getfulness of the antiquated reminiscences of the past, but we 
 note nothing of this sort on the Continent ; and yet England, 
 with all her wealth, power, and onward spirit of advancement, 
 still finds time now and then to devote to the pastimes and enact- 
 ments of the venerated dead. Experience has taught us that 
 there is a solidity and dependableness about the real John Bull 
 that characterize no nation on this side of the blue Atlantic. 
 
CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. 143 
 
 A Scotsman will sometimes change his kilt ; the blarney of an 
 Emeralder puzzles us ; but in dealing with an Englishman we 
 know exactly where to find him. He never changes his views 
 of friendship, unless some unaccountable circumstance interposes 
 to enforce a sterling reason. 
 
 "We commenced talking of the Christmas festivities. We like 
 the mode of conducting these sports in "merrie England." We 
 like the decorations of holly with its pretty red berries, the 
 legend of the misletoe (especially that portion of the legend that 
 allows one to kiss any pretty girl found under it), the adorn- 
 ments of verdure and the careful display of sweets and outland- 
 ish lollypops in the shop-windows, the little festive deception 
 of Kriss Kingle, practised on the juveniles, the turkeys and 
 pluin-puddings (ah! how nice), the games of blindman's-buff, 
 hunt-the-slipper, and the fairy Christmas bowl ; but, above all, 
 the pantomimes at the theatres. It is the pantomimes that. 
 thrill the hearts of the juveniles, and even the children of larger 
 growth. It is glorious fun to see clever Mr. Clown slap poor 
 old decrepid Pantaloon, and then witness their joint endeavours 
 to entrap agile Harlequin, who, first kissing graceful Columbine, 
 shakes his head from side to side in defiance, quivers his hat, 
 and then leaps with one miraculous bound and disappears through 
 a clock-face. 
 
 If ever London puts on a suit of — not sables — no, but gaudy 
 habiliments, it is just a week before what is termed " Boxing- 
 night" — the night after Christmas, when all the pantomimes 
 come out. The huge metropolis is plastered up to its neck with 
 mammoth show-bills, incredible posters, and frightful announce- 
 ments of the forthcoming pieces. The Strand, Chcapside, 
 Poultry, Cornhill, Oxford-street, Ilolborn, and the various im- 
 portant thoroughfares, are crowded with bulletins in red, green, 
 and black letters, telling of the "Magic Mince-pie" at such a 
 place; the " Harlequin Tim Bobbin 1 ' at another; the "Fairy 
 Florinda and the Swans of Pearl" at another; and so to the 
 
144 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 end of the chapter. From Chelsea to Epping Forest, if one 
 were*to glance at an old wall in hopes of finding a cheap tailor's 
 advertisement whom you remembered advertised liberally, and 
 therefore must be everywhere, ten to one but the ominous words 
 l - Green Monster," the " Cream-coloured Imp of the Infernal 
 Darkness," or something else just as ugly and suggestive, would 
 stare you wickedly and unflinchingly in the face. If a stranger 
 who knew nothing of holiday pantomimes and their idiosyncra- 
 sies could just one fine day before Christmas be dropped down 
 in London — say in the neighbourhood of Lambeth-walk on the 
 Surry side of the river — and commence reading the titles on 
 the playbills, without pursuing the context, he would quickly 
 make up his mind that he had made a pilgrimage to some 
 sanguinary, enchanted hotbed a little this side of the moon, 
 instead of the largest capital of the first kingdom of the civili- 
 zed world. "We mean to say that if his sensibilities were 
 to any extent acute, and his misapprehensive ignorance corres- 
 pondingly opaque, he could not be loss alarmed than was the 
 Baron Munchausan when he saw his horse dangling to the church 
 spire, as recorded in the scarcely to be believed adventures of 
 that extraordinary personage. It is a delicate point to touch 
 on; but if we were a married man, and the silken knot had 
 been tied only half a dozen months, we should really fear our 
 dear little wife's appearing on the promenade just at this time, 
 for if she were susceptible to the impulses of strange impres- 
 sions, who knows but what our first-born would have a harlequin's 
 patch on its arm instead of a u straw berry/' or a miniature car- 
 toon of a link of sausages graven on the small of its back, to 
 eternally remind our wife, when she washed her ' ; dear little off- 
 spring," of the clown swallowing those elongated but suggestive 
 edibles. "We would not dwell on this subject so long if the 
 anxious managers confined the blowing of their spectacular trum- 
 pets to bill-boards, old walls, the arches of the bridges, or even 
 the interior of Hansem cabs ; but their zeal not stopping here, 
 
CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. 145 
 
 manifests itself in a crowd of overgrown one-horse vans, with 
 letters the size of a life-guard, until one is bewildered with titles 
 and magicized almost to death. In attempting to cross a street 
 in a hurry one is compelled to wait until a panoramic " Willow* 
 Pattern Plate," a " King Charming," a " Queen Quiddles," 
 and " Harlequin Bowsprit," all in a row, dawdle out of the 
 way ; and to go into an omnibus with the hope of avoiding the 
 bills would be like going to China to dodge Young Hyson. 
 
 We have heard the proportions of the mastodon extolled for 
 their amplitude : an elephant, viewed through a powerful micro- 
 scope, would "come out" considerably gigantic, if the glasses 
 were in good order. It is rumoured in conchological circles 
 that there are certain fish-monsters residing in the vasty deep, 
 the bulk of which would make even a philosopher open his eyes 
 with wonder ; but we never yet heard of anything on land, or 
 in the sea — or even amphibious, for the matter of that — which 
 could compare in point of magnitude and hugeness with the 
 combined promises of the managers of London, respecting their 
 holiday efforts. Were each promise only a grain of sand, so 
 numerous are they that, at a moderate calculation, there would 
 be sufficient to make a new beach for Brighton ; and further, it 
 is our humble opinion, if it were possible to convert each prom- 
 ise into a slab of some very hard stone, and they could be laid 
 carefully one upon another, the pile would soon be lost in the 
 clouds ; and afterwards, there would be enough superfluous slabs 
 left lying about to build an edifice the size of the Bank of 
 England. Yv T e trust this will afford the reader soweidea of the 
 vastness and extent of the joint promises of the London mana- 
 gers about Christmas. And now a word as to the " titles." 
 Mother Goose's melodies were consumed long ago ; the prolific 
 Countess d'Anois is undergoing consumption by Blanche (the 
 king of punning rhymesters); the "Arabian Nights'' have very 
 few leaves left ; Count Hamilton's mythical twists of fairy imag- 
 ination, and the pert sayings of the day, are or have been called 
 
14G DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 into requisition in furnishing (or rather suggesting) material for 
 scenic illustration. The airy-brained dramatist and his co-la- 
 bourers then go to work in good earnest ; and the consequences 
 are, at this season, posters and pocket-money are in profusion. 
 
 Suppose, just for a bit of fun, we digress here, and go behind 
 the scenes of the play-house, and sec what those strange folks 
 that go in and out of the little door are doing. Have you ever 
 been there ? No ? Then come along — we have; and you shall 
 have the benefit of our experience. AVe pass that cross, sour- 
 countenanced man, sitting in a stuffed seal at the stage-door. 
 He is the hall-keeper, and is much feared by spruce young gen- 
 tlemen who come to inquire about the pretty little ballet-girls 
 that bewitch t'other sex with their tights and spangled tunics. 
 It has been told us that, when fast young men have called to 
 leave three-cornered biJlcf-duuxiov their female acquaintance 
 the chorus, that they have slily slipped small coins into his 
 hand; and, without even so much as Looking at the donations, 
 he has simply, unaffectedly coughed, and promised that •• they 
 should be mwc to get 'em." These human Cerbernses could 
 tell queer stories if they were disposed to "unlock the secrets 
 of the prison-house :*' and we were thinking that the revelations 
 of a stage-door would not be a bad notion it' the idea was well 
 managed. 
 
 Not to digress in a digression, we take no notice of the ill- 
 grained remark that the hall-keeper made as we passed him, and 
 threading a long avenue, full of what can be best described as 
 "one thing and another,'' we find ourselves among a number of 
 u flats," pieces of old forests, bits of castles, and " one-halfs" of 
 mansions, shops, chambers and the deuce knows what. In fact, 
 we are at the u . wings" of the stage, and looking around we see 
 a number of well-dressed people of both sexes chatting and 
 laughing in a careless off-hand manner, while here and there a 
 ray of cloudy light (like a sunbeam tarnished, if such a thing 
 could be), struggles through the crevices of a wilderness of what 
 
CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. 147 
 
 are technically termed " travellers" and " sky borders," suspend- 
 ed over the stage, shedding a dull, sickly glare on the objects. 
 around. There is a single man — who is near-sighted and wears 
 spectacles — in the orchestra, humming a melody, and by the 
 aid of a gaunt unsuuffed stamp of caudle, transcribing it on a 
 half-sheet of greasy music-paper. He is the repeteteur, and is ran- 
 sacking his memory for scraps of popular airs to introduce in the 
 " comic business" of the pantomime, a duty which the leader 
 has left to his assistant because he has displayed much tact at 
 adaptation. A small table is standing near the foot-lights at the 
 li prompt side" of the stage, near which the stage-manager — a 
 chunky, pot-stomached person, with a gruff voice and bright eye 
 — is standing with his arms folded looking up the stage. A 
 half-shabby man in a slouched cap and round jacket, which smells 
 loudly of turpentine and varnish, is standing by his side engag- 
 ed in conversation. It is rude to listen to folks' talk, but as 
 they are evidently conversing on nothing private or special, we 
 will violate Chesterfield for once, and draw near and hear what 
 they are saying. The stage-manager has infused a deal of im- 
 portance in his manner, and now speaks. He addresses the 
 property-man. 
 
 " Remember, Mr. Brown (property men rarely have fanciful 
 names), to get those masks as hideous as possible for the second 
 scene. Don't spare the rose pink and Dutch metal in the least, 
 for those masks are — mark — the telling points of the introduc- 
 tory scenes. Tell "Wilson (Wilson is the head carpenter) to see 
 that those sinks run easily, and all the grooves had better be oiled. 
 The gauzes, too, must be overhauled, for when we used them in 
 the 'Spirit of the Fountain,' they looked veryBhab." (Mean- 
 ing shabby, but the stage-manager has a habit of clipping his 
 words.) He continues — " Let me caution you now, while I think 
 of it, in this castle scene to blend the fires as much as you can. 
 Don't get too much red on the water-set, nor too much green on 
 the towers. That ' goblin oak 1 had better come down to the 
 
148 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 second • groove,' and let the shadows fall back, bang against the 
 ■wall/' Daring these remarks, the stage-manager makes a great 
 variety of motions with his hands while in the act of pointing, 
 several of which arc imitated by the clown in the forthcoming 
 piece, who is standing at the wing, and who being a great wag, 
 and considered apt at imitation, is always on the alert to signal- 
 ize himself. Clowns, too, have another knack of pretending to 
 bump themselves against doors, much to the surprise of innocent 
 strangers, which clever deception they perform by dexterously 
 rapping the aforesaid door, unseen, with their knuekles. The 
 manager, in happy unconsciousness of the imitation, struts up 
 to a " trap" which is undergoing repairs, and after looking care- 
 fully down it, again joins the property-man. 
 
 u Where's AYilson ?" lie asked. 
 
 c ' He's gone to see about lumber for a pair of ' flats,' sir," 
 is the reply. 
 
 " Have you heard him speak of the chang< 
 
 " They're monstrous slap-up," replies the other, picking a 
 fleck of Dutch metal from the side of his nose. (It will be 
 observed that this useful person is not very choice in his lan- 
 guage.) " Some of the % tricks' are stunnin', and '11 maki 
 open their hcyes. That barley-sheaf turnin' into a Yankee 
 yacht is regular bobbish ; and when the butter-firkins ohai 
 to silver tea-pots, there'll be a dead yell all over the 'ouse." 
 (Here the property-man points to some object in the flies, and 
 drops a remark touching a shower of Cupids during the repre- 
 sentation of the " Floral Realms of Light/ 1 but as we did not 
 quite catch the sense of the expression, we cannot conscientiously 
 hazard a detailed account of this portion of the dialogue.) He 
 pursues his conversation — " I was in the paint-room just now, 
 to see that set of clouds that Charley Thompson's a doin' of — 
 there's not hanythink can touch 'em, sir, an' the Cave of 'Orrors 
 is as black as the Docks." 
 
 A tall slender man at this juncture passes across the stage 
 
CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. 149 
 
 at the back. He has on canvas overhauls, garnished with 
 miscellaneous daubs of color, as if he had been a target for 
 painted bullets. The stage-manager beckons him, and they 
 retire to their room, to talk over certain "matters and things" 
 concerning the scenery and pictures of the pantomime. The 
 property-man has gone to that dingy, long, low apartment, 
 which is the sanctum where he manufactures canvas legs of 
 mutton, stuffed sticks, perpetually red-hot pokers, golden gob- 
 lets, rag babies, and sham puddings by the gross. We will 
 peep in, and see what can be denned in the dull haze that per- 
 vades the room. A pot of glue is smoking over a spirit-lamp 
 on a table, and close beside it are a number of little books con- 
 taining gold-leaf, or something resembling it, and chips of bright 
 foil. A cart-load of paraphernalia is "kicking about" on the 
 tables, under them, helter-skelter — anywhere. There are wooden 
 legs (generally used by the old commodores), jockey caps, old 
 spurs, bits of sponge (much affected by the villain of the melo- 
 dramas to supply the blood when he meets his end), fictitious 
 harps (on which many sweet imaginary- melodies have been 
 played), Indian calumets and tomahawks, Chinese lanterns, 
 dancing-jacks, parti-coloured umbrellas (useful for " Paul Pry" 
 or pantomimes), artificial icicles (warranted not to melt), crowns 
 and cushions, beadles' staffs and fairy wands, canes, snuffboxes, 
 papier-mache pound-cakes, deceptive lemons, drawerless chiffo- 
 niers, ingeniously suppositious fowls ready trussed, pocket- 
 books, containing countless sums of imaginative bank-notes 
 (always carried by the old uncles from India in the comedies), 
 and if we were to examine closely, we would see almost 
 every article, only more or less sham in its construction, met 
 with in real life. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary for us to ascend to the paint-room, 
 where several artists are outlining, laying on the colour, filling in, 
 and creating landscapes and " realms of bliss" in short order. 
 We would only get our trowsers smeared if we went up, and 
 
150 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 perhaps interrupt the workmen ; so, first glancing at the front 
 of the house, which is covered with strips of muslin, and paus- 
 ing for an instant just to get a peep at the face of that pretty 
 girl, the premiere coryphee, who is practising a coup in short 
 ekirts and faded round-toed slippers, we will once more seek 
 daylight, and leave the folks to rehearse the pantomime with a 
 clear stage. 
 
 Boxing-night ! the theatres are besieged with applicants for 
 box, pit, and gallery. It is not only the rabble mob that have 
 turned out, but the flower of the nobility arrive in close car- 
 riages and tigered broughams. The private boxes sparkle 
 with diamonds — the pit is a sea of heads — and the gallery re- 
 minds one of the clatter that 
 
 " The shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest." 
 
 Rows of pretty, plump, cherry-cheeked children are scon 
 around the family range of boxes, teasing thea mammas with 
 questions, and laughing in joyous anticipation of the wk fun to 
 come." Tradesmen and their •• moe-looking" daughters abound 
 in the upper boxes ; tall young men, with daintily-combed 
 whiskers, and very large Beat rings on their fingers, are making 
 good use of their lorgnettes in the "stalls;" the gallery is ;i 
 bewildered medley of dustmen in ancle-jacks, servant-maids, 
 wet-nurses out of place, hawkers and greengrocer boys. All 
 have come with the one sole object of having a good long 
 laugh, and they generally accomplish it. The gallery folks, 
 who are unfortunately remindful of such points, have taken 
 care to provide themselves with flasks of gin and spirits, which 
 they consult frequently during the evening. The more elegant- 
 bred private-box company have had little hampers supplied at 
 " Fortnum and Mason's," and, in the shape of Neufchutel 
 cream cheese, potted shrimps for sandwiches, some marmalade 
 and red currant jam for the children, with perhaps just a dozen 
 
CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES. 151 
 
 nicely-pressed biffins, they enjoy a portable and savoury refresh- 
 ment. 
 
 The English understand the art of being comfortable under 
 all circumstances, and of all their holiday entertainments, the 
 yearly pantomime seems to possess more charms than the simple 
 pastimes of domestic life. This is the only spot on the globe 
 where the drafts of the firm of Clown, Pantaloon, &c, are 
 freely honoured " at sight ;" and in no country that we have 
 yet visited, did Harlequin strike us as more agile, Pantaloon 
 never tottered with more maudlin step, Clown was never half so 
 droll, and Columbine more aerial and graceful, than here. In 
 these respects, England is truly " nierrie." Martial's proverb, 
 "Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est" is very good in its way, 
 but like many other musty apothegms, it loses its point at the 
 Christmas period. u Ride si sapis" is much better, and to be 
 preferred; therefore let us "smile, and 
 
 " With mirth and laughter, 
 Lot old wrinkles come." 
 
152 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 THE UNFORTUNATE WANT OF PRIORITY 
 
 There is no help for it — singular things will happen! 
 
 Of course. And if you've nothing better to do, dear reader, 
 lend us your attention for a few moments. 
 
 Miss Angelina Leonora Lipsy was a sentimental young erea- 
 turc, who had a narrow escape of being beautiful ; that is to 
 say, she had dark lustrous eyes, dazzling white teeth, rich ruby 
 lips, a chiselled outline of oval countenance, but hang it all-- 
 her hair was p ictztre&quely ml! Cruel nature! why were ye 
 so bountiful in every other respect, to blight by n crowning and 
 ridiculous contrast? While ye were about it, why not make 
 the job completer — why destroy so much harmony by a single 
 error? Had the hair been deep brown, or blade, all would 
 have been well, or, for the matter of that, dark auburn ; but 
 red — unmistakable, decided, atrocious red — oh ! it was too 
 bad, and we must cry out against it. Nature ought to have 
 known better; and when Miss Angelina Leonora was launched 
 into vitality, she (Nature, of course.) must have been in a fit 
 of peevishness, or felt wickedly nnamiable at the moment. 
 
 And Miss Leonora was not only within one of being beauti- 
 ful, but we mayapply the same remark to her accomplishments. 
 She could execute crayon drawings with considerable skill, and 
 showed grace in dancing — but her forte lay in the piano. This 
 was her celestial harbour. How bewitchiugly she would have 
 sung if she had not lisped ! Her voice, a mezzo-soprano of a 
 fair octave and a -half, floated and quivered till the heart leaped 
 with delight. Then her selection of pieces — bravuras, cabalet- 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE WANT OF PRIORITY. 153 
 
 tas, ariettas, and ballads from operas, were heaped upon great- 
 racks invented for their reception. And Miss Lipsy'fl taste- - 
 how varied it was, to be sure ! not tied down to Beethoven and 
 Mozart, aud circling only the difficulties of Gliick and Doni- 
 zetti — by no means ! One moment she would soar in Astrifi- 
 amnanto's prettiest bit, and the next twirl the dying tones of 
 '• Daniel Tucker.'' It was now Lucia, and then " Look ye" — 
 from grave to gay — 
 
 " From lively to serene,'' &c. 
 
 But our young friend, even with the drawbacks of florid locks 
 and mincing articulation, had lovers ; and it is of these lovers 
 we would now speak. They formed an acquaintance with her 
 at the same time at an evening party, and both had fallen in 
 love with her at the same moment. Their six eyes came in 
 simultaneous contact — Love's telegraph was at work — and it 
 would seem there was power sufficient in her two to play the 
 mischief with their four. It was a case of madly mutual love, 
 without the graceful benefit of priority. So it stood. 
 
 The younger of the suitors was a Mr. Thompson Thompsons 
 — a poet, gentleman on town, and general beau. lie gloried in 
 plaid trowsers, salmon-coloured braces, dare-devil tile, and, in 
 fact — was fast ! Between ourselves and the post, dear reader, 
 he was {he favoured one / 
 
 The other, a certain James Crack, or as he was called for 
 shortness. " Jim Crack," a watchmaker by occupation ; a 
 journeyman that could always earn his fifteen dollars a week as 
 easily as " turn his hand over," if he would only a stick to 
 work." But there was the trouble — he loved women better 
 than watches, and preferred lips to levers. Strange that such 
 things are, and — 
 
 ,; Overcome us like a summer's " 
 
 These personages w r ere friends, or, more properly, acquaint- 
 ances ; and though it was heart-consuming for each to know 
 
154 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 that the other loved the same object, yet the passion had been 
 kindled at the same moment and in the same place. Here each 
 felt the unfortunate want of priority ! 
 
 u Crack, can't we arrange it somehow ?" Thompsons would 
 say appealingly, anxious to buy off the love of his rival; 'I 
 think I love her bettor than you. 1 ' 
 
 ;< I'm confident you don't," Crack would reply; I'd go 
 through fire and water to serve her." 
 
 " I'd go the water, because I can swim," Thompsons would 
 add ; but for the fire — I'd rather decline that, as I'm anything 
 but a salamander." 
 
 It was the custom of the couple to meet every other evening 
 at a bowling saloon in Broadway ; and some six weeks after the 
 match of passion had been ignited, Crack — who was sitting 
 moodily in a fauteuil scanning his finger-nails, while Thomp- 
 son? was rattling away in praise of a now ballad he had just 
 written, in which constancy and devotion were prominently 
 brought forward — started up as if possessed of a brilliant idea, 
 and confronted his fellow-in-l< 
 
 " Thompsons, I've a grand thought popping through me." 
 
 < ; Is it possible?! 1 
 
 " Yes ; but first allow me to ask — as far as you can be, under 
 the circumstances — you're my friend, arc you not ?'' 
 
 " How can you ask ?" 
 
 " Good. Now listen to what I say." 
 
 11 Both cars are particularly wide open." 
 
 <: "We love Angelina Leonora, do we not?" 
 
 Thompsons' brow lowered. 
 
 11 Why don't you answer ?" asked Crack. 
 
 " Alas ! James Crack, a regard for the truth, instilled into 
 my mind when I was still young and tender in years, compels 
 me to say that we do. • 
 
 " It's a hard case," remarked Crack. 
 
 " Devilish hard." 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE WANT OF PRIORITY. 155 
 
 "We agreed to woo her alternately for six weeks." 
 
 " Yes, and she then promised to declare her choice." 
 
 " But I fear she hain't the nerve to make it," pursued the 
 elder of the lovers. tl And between you and I, I can't live in 
 this frightful state of excitement any longer. I must determine 
 upon something, one way or the other, or I shall be driven out 
 of my senses. I often think I'll throw myself at her feet, and 
 declare that I can't live without her." 
 
 u Good gracious !" cried Thompsons, sportively, " hav'nt you 
 got that far yet ,• why I did that the second week I knew her. 
 In met, ' I perish for thy heart and hand,' is the title of my very 
 last ballad. I sent her a copy, with her name engraved in a 
 halo of fat little cupids waving torches." 
 
 " Ah !" sighed Crack, dismally, u . there's where you have me 
 on the hip. Your ballads will play the devil with my chances, I 
 fear. Music is the food of love." 
 
 " Yes, and she frequently protests she could live on it," re- 
 marked the ballad-monger. Fancy her breakfasting on a sym- 
 phony, lunching on a rondo, and then, for supper, taking half-a- 
 dozen pickled polkas and a stewed overture ! Curious diet, 
 eh?" 
 
 " But, joking apart, Thompsons, you have decided advan- 
 tages over me," said Crack, mournfully. 
 
 " But you mustn't forget one thing," consoled Thompsons, 
 with a complacent smile — " poets are very poor, and she knows 
 that. You've more money than me." 
 
 " But in love poetry goes farther than money, don't it ?" 
 
 " Not always ; give me rhyno before rhyme any time," re- 
 plied Thompsons. '• But touching the idea that popped through 
 you." 
 
 " True, true — I'd forgotten it. I'm quite amiss here to-day," 
 gaid the quondam lover, smiting his forehead ; " my idea sug- 
 gests itself in the shape of a proposition — " 
 
 11 And that proposition is — ?" 
 
155 
 
 DASHES OF AMERICAN HOIOtt. 
 
 " To play a game of bowls for the lady; and whichever gets 
 the least number of pins shall resign in favor of the other." 
 
 44 That's a subject for consideration," exclaimed Thompsons; 
 44 for, if I remember aright, you are the better player of the 
 two." 
 
 44 I think we are well matched ; and, besides, I shall be as 
 nervous as a leaf." 
 
 " If you'll promise me that, I'll make the bargain with you," 
 said Thomsons, who felt within himself he would beat his antag- 
 onist, but did not care to exhibit his self-reliance. 
 
 "Seriously, Thompsons," pleaded Crack, "I'm harag 
 beyond measure at the uncertainty of my position with 3Iiss 
 Lipsy, and now is the time to take a step for bettering our con- 
 dition. Let us roll, and abide, like men, by the decision. You 
 know, as well as I can tell you, that two lovers for one lady is 
 absurd — she can't marry us both." 
 
 44 Certainly not. Now we must have a clear understanding: 
 if I knock down more pins than you — 
 
 44 I resign in your favor, if it breaks my heart," said Crack; 
 14 and if you lose, you do liken 
 
 ri It's a bargain !" cried Thompsons, and they shook hands by 
 way of seeming impressiv* 
 
 ' ; How many balls shall each roll?" suggestively asked 
 Crack. 
 
 44 Three each." 
 
 " Good ! You lead off, and I'll keep account." 
 
 44 No, as you suggested the idea, you must begin." 
 
 After some discussion, Crack divested himself of his coat 
 and hat, and breathlessly proceeded to roll. His eyes wan- 
 dered as he glanced up the alley, but conquering for a moment 
 his agitation, the ball dashed towards the pins. Only four 
 fell ! " 
 
 44 Bravo!" shouted Thompsons, capering with delight; 44 1, 
 can beat that." 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE WANT OF PRIORITY. 157 
 
 The pins were restored, and the poet took his turn. He 
 dislodged seven. 
 
 Crack groaned audibly. 
 
 " Now, go it again," said Thompsons. 
 
 The luck was better for Crack this time. The whole ten 
 fell with one crash. 
 
 " Well, I say, Jim, that's walkin' into them like Wellington 
 did at Waterloo," cried Thompsons. 
 
 " Rather better, I must say," replied Crack. 
 
 " Here goes my second effort — b-a-n-g !" exclaimed the poet, 
 with a sanguinary rush, which succeeded in precipitating six. 
 " Come, that's not so bad — six and seven are thirteen. Now 
 I'll follow my go, and have done with it. Ye Gods inspire 
 me !" and he rolled. Twenty-one was his sum total. 
 
 Crack had now one last chance, and with a desperate plunge 
 he threw, rather than rolled, the ball that was to govern his 
 fate. It seemed to coquette with the pins for an instant, and 
 then agitate their positions, till seven fell. He drew a long 
 breath, and u stared a stare," in which hope, anxiety, doubt, 
 fear, and joy were all mixed up like piccalili in a jar. Strange 
 circumstance ! They had alike succeeded — it was a tie ! 
 
 " I think, without perverting the truth, I may say that's odd," 
 remarked Thompsons. 
 
 " I was certain I should have beaten you," Crack said. 
 
 " And I was sanguine that I should win. It would not be 
 inappropriate to call that a coincidence, eh?" observed the 
 poet. 
 
 " We stand now just where we begun," proceeded Crack ; 
 and in order to make it final, let one ball decide. My blood is 
 up, and I'll begin." 
 
 " Go it !" coincided Thompsons. 
 
 Crack then delivered a " brief but deep" prayer to himself, 
 assumed an attitude something similar to the Grecian Ajax 
 when he defies the elements above, and threw his energy and 
 
158 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 love into the ball with one mighty hurl. Confusion to his 
 efforts ! only five toppled over, and the ball seemed to groan 
 with exertion as it fell inanimately among the straw. Thomp- 
 sons fairly danced with delight at his rival's brntum fulmen. 
 
 " Laugh on, my good fellow, upbraided Crack, with a dismal 
 attempt to smile, whic was only a melancholy failure — 
 " laugh on ; but it would be too good a joke if five was the win- 
 ning number." 
 
 lt Yes, it would," retorted Thompsons confidently, u but I 
 don't mean it shall. What's five to beat ? Boy, set them up !" 
 he exclaimed, and, measuring the distance well with his eye, 
 and opening his fingers, he carefully dropped the ball, and it ran 
 surely to the goal, and dislodged six ! 
 
 Crack almost tore his hair with excitement ; and the poet, 
 making a rush for his coat and hat, exclaimed, in a voice of 
 triumph — • 
 
 " I win by one pin ! The gods be praised — shr is mine ! 
 
 The vermilion-haired beauty was rather glad than otherwise 
 at the result of this game; and although she conceived it to be 
 a great liberty to decide in sueh ;i vulgar maimer which should 
 claim the privilege of asking for her hand, yet she favoured Mr. 
 Thompsons because he was younger than her other admirer, and 
 wrote pretty poetry all about her eyes, her lips, &c., always 
 avoiding the mention of her ruby ringlets, which he ever 
 ingeniously and neatly took the precaution to pass over in elo- 
 quent silence. 
 
 We hope that Mr. and Mrs. Thompsons are happy. Their 
 case illustrates the tribulations attendant upon the want of a 
 perfect priority in love. 
 
159 
 
 THAT MYSTERIOUS BANDBOX. 
 
 On the goodly ship Mayflower — not the original craft so 
 unseveringly held by the anchor of events with recollections of 
 the Pilgrims and Plymouth Bocks by any kind of means, we 
 would have the reader understand, as we are as far from a Methu- 
 selah, we are glad to say — bound for the port of Liverpool, 
 several years since, we found ourselves a passenger in company 
 with a dozen other people of various ages and capacities in life. 
 Among those in the cabin was a fine old lady by the name of 
 Mrs. Jewell, who had inherited some property from a relative 
 in the west ; and being the last branch of the family tree left 
 in America, had determined upon visiting England, for the 
 purpose of discovering, if possible, an only brother, whom she 
 supposed to be living somewhere in Lancashire, but from whom 
 she had not heard in twenty-seven years, and then only in an 
 epistle of four lines — which letter, by the way, with a sister's 
 fondness, she had still preserved and treasured in its gradual 
 obliteration. It was torn, and patched, and pasted, and just 
 
 I hung together ; yet there it was, enfolded in her bosom, sacred 
 in its tatters, every word graven on her heart. 
 
 She was an odd old lady was Mrs. Jewell, round, rosy, and un- 
 sophisticated ; full of cranks and whimsies ; as humorously 
 
 j eccentric and as purely benevolent as it was possible to be. 
 She dressed in a faded peach-tinted gown, and her hair, which 
 was rapidly silvering, was arranged in a manner entirely her 
 own — both hair and manner, for the matter of that, for she had 
 
 I no occasion for a wig; and if ever there existed an old lady 
 
160 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 who seemed perfectly at peace with all human kind, Mrs. Jewell 
 certainly seemed that very person. Her only attendant was a 
 fat, drowsy maid, who walked about the deck with her eyes 
 half closed, and who was just as happy as her mistress, provid- 
 ed she had nothing to do. Exertion seemed to disagree with 
 her, and indolence and she were on the best possible terms — in 
 fact, we may say, in joint partnership. An effort cost her a 
 pang while slumber had only to tap at her eyelids to be joy- 
 fully admitted. A sad lazybones was Maria Mables. 
 
 The only care that Mrs. Jewell seem* <1 to haw. was that her 
 poor Maria would get sick and be " carried off" by some fever 
 or the other, though she had no seeming reason on earth to 
 harbour the feeling, for the lazy maid was bursting with good 
 health, and her ruddy checks shone like a great round red 
 apple. But Mrs. Jewell must have a doubt perpetually in her 
 mind on some subject or the other, no matter how often she 
 changed it; and the object of her solicitude when we happened 
 to make her acquaintance was the health of her maid She 
 kept continually making her swallow ten drops of this or ten 
 drops of that — black, brown, or yellow mixtures — though the 
 poor maid protested she was not ill, and stuck to it, that her 
 health would bear the minutest investigation. It was no use, 
 however ; Mrs. Jewell's whim had manifested itself in a violent 
 motherly anxiety, and fat Maria was doomed to put up with 
 the consequences. 
 
 " There, it is no use of your telling me that you feel well ; 
 I know much better than you can hope to," the old lady would 
 say placidiy, and stop her knitting to feel Maria's pulse. 
 " Your pulse circulates too quickly for your age, and your 
 tongue is furred at the tip. Bring me up that flat vial out of 
 my basket — now go along, and don't stop staring at that ugly 
 sailor, but do as I tell you." 
 
 And in less than ten minutes the maid was a martyr to ano- 
 ther ten drops of something brown that would be the saving of 
 her. 
 
THAT MYSTERIOUS BANDBOX. 161 
 
 When the weather was fine, the old lady used to sit upon 
 deck near the wheel-house, accompanied by Maria, and a largo 
 red bandbox, pierced with small holes, about which she seemed 
 to be vastly particular. She was rarely seen without the box, 
 and the box never without her, until it was whispered about 
 among the passengers that the old lady carried her fortune in 
 it, though a remarkably queer place to carry a fortune, as all 
 admitted ; but eccentricity has strange ways of developing it- 
 self, and we agreed that this must be one of its ways — setting 
 all ultra-probabilities aside for the nonce. 
 
 And yet she and her red box were so constant in their com- 
 panionship, that there seemed to exist a tacit feeling among us 
 all that it would have been a species of prying profanity to 
 question the old lady as to its contents ; though curiosity had 
 been manifested in a variety of forms, from which we plead no 
 exemption. 
 
 Could it contain a parcel of old parchment wills about a 
 • quantity of unclaimed property ; or was it merely the curious 
 J repository of a few scattered baubles that her brother had once 
 I possessed, and which she was treating with the same devotional 
 \ care that she bestowed on his old faded letter ? Perhaps in the 
 wildness of her fantastic whimsicality she looked upon it as an 
 inanimate friend, and invested it with a dreamy individuality, 
 such as a profound psychologist can only understand. Though 
 the old lady, if the truth must be told, looked very little like a 
 person who ever troubled her mind about such impressions as 
 we have been talking about ; certain it was, however, that she 
 regarded her box with no common interest, and still more cer- 
 tain was it that no one ever had to do with it save the maid and 
 herself. 
 
 We had been out at sea about a week when she took another 
 whim under her wing, of whicli we unfortunately were the inno- 
 cent victim. Not content with dosing her lazy servitor, she one 
 day at dinner made up her mind that our appetite was too ex- 
 
162 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 tensive, and immediately laid out a series of plans to curtail it, 
 nolens volens, just as we might happen to fancy her maternal 
 teachings. 
 
 We were being helped to potage — or, in ungarnished Saxon, 
 soup was being given us, and we observed that the old lady fol- 
 lowed the dish with her little gray eyes, and seemed revolving 
 something in her mind. 
 
 " You'll excuse me," said she, in a strong motherly tone, 
 which rather frightened us at the moment ; " but I'm certain 
 that soup is bad for you. I'm confident of it." 
 
 We balanced the spoon on our forefinger, and looked her fuD 
 in the face. u Why worse for mo than anybody else," we ask 
 ed inquiringly. 
 
 u Your constitution requires solids. Soup is too meagre foi 
 your delicate frame," she replied, with imperturbable intcntness, 
 which elicited a dozen sly titters around the table. " You want 
 solids, and very little of them. Too much food is poisonous to 
 your constitution." 
 
 We were never aware until that moment that our constitution 
 was dangerously delicate ; and we were puzzled to know why 
 the old lady had singled out our own particular constitution to 
 study in preference to a dozen others around her. We suppos- 
 ed it to be a mere case of fatality, and eat a hearty dinner in her 
 very face. She shook her head deprecatingly, and seemed to be 
 pained at our persistance ; but as it was clearly a case of appe- 
 tite versus imagination, we let the former have its way, and it 
 came off victorious. 
 
 Finally she put aside her whims with her shoes, and took a new 
 one with them in the morning. Among other sudden discover- 
 ies she fancied that the second mate would look well with his 
 hair curled, and advised him by all means to cultivate the fash- 
 ion ; but the tar having about as much "notion of ringlets as a 
 sperm whale has of crochet, thanked her for her civility, and 
 assured her " that if he got his figure-head larded and brushed 
 once a week he thought himself lucky." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS BANDBOX. 163 
 
 On another occasion, when the sea was extremely rough, she 
 sat on deck watching the man at the wheel, thinking, among 
 other amiable things, how hard the " poor creeters had to work 
 for their living," when the captain passed by to give some orders 
 at the bow. 
 
 Captain," said she mildly ; " Captain, I want to ask a favour 
 of you." 
 
 "Well, Madam?" 
 
 M You know, Captain, I've a very good heart, and can't bear 
 to have people suffer. Do you see that poor thing ?" pointing to 
 the man at the wheel. 
 
 " Yes ; what of him ?" The Captain spoke rather sharp, be- 
 ing in a hurry. 
 
 " Well, I can't help noticing the poor fellow. He's got on a 
 damp shirt, and I'm terribly afraid he'll catch cold, Do let mo 
 tend that round thing while he runs down and puts on some dry 
 linen !" 
 
 It was in vain that a spruce young gentleman, in a white cra- 
 vat, endeavoured to suborn the fat servant as to the contents of 
 the bandbox. He offered her an electro-plated shawl-pin that 
 wonderfully took her fancy, and caused her to open her eyes 
 perfectly wide (so he avowed in our state-room), a feat that her 
 drowsy stupor had never permitted her to execute in our pres- 
 ence. Several schemes were contrived by half-a-dozen of the 
 passengers, whose waggishness and curiosity had so allied, that 
 more than a joke was the object. But they were always defeat- 
 ed ; the old lady seemed to be in the way at the very moment 
 the deed was to be done ; once, in fact, she caught them with 
 their hands on the lid, and such a lecture and report to the Cap- 
 tain followed as she alone could frame. 
 
 But the secret was soon to be revealed. Ye laws of merrie 
 England were destined to allay the inquisitive spirit of inquiry 
 now so generally rife among both passengers and crew. Th© 
 ordeal was not yet passed. 
 
164 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 We touched the shores of Liverpool, and. after the usual bus- 
 tle and banging, farewells, adieus, regrets, congratulations and 
 confusion incidental to an arrival, we were directed to the 
 Custom-house, in order to superintend the examination of lug- 
 gage. Everybody looked about for Mrs. Jewell, and after a 
 considerable lapse of time she and her servant made their ap- 
 pearance on deck, bearing the red bandbox, and looking about 
 with evident satisfaction to find the coast so clear. As she 
 approached the gangway, at least six of the passengers — who 
 had lurked in ambush for a piece of fun — stepped forward and 
 offered to assist them in carrying the box. She thanked them 
 courteously, though half suspecting the motive that prompted 
 their readiness, and all they could do was to follow her to the 
 Customs, and wink at the maid now and then when she turned 
 around to see if they were making fun of her walk, she having 
 heard one of them wickedly say that " Maria wiggle-waggled like 
 t duck." 
 
 At the Custom-house we found a pyramid of trunks, boxes, 
 packages and parcels undergoing the searching process. The 
 usual number of discoveries were made in the way of tobacco, 
 reprints and articles looked upon as mildly contraband, much to 
 the annoyance of the owners. We remember one man had his 
 boots stuffed with cigars to such an extent that he could scarcely 
 loeomote. One of the examiners — concordia discors — an ob- 
 servant, good-humoured official — from some cause, suspected the 
 concealment, He did not affect to notice it, however, but, on a 
 slight pretence, led the fellow about through various apartments 
 until his little stock of cigars was crushed and ground to a pow- 
 der. Another youngster — a bardling, en route for Venice, to 
 poetize in gondolas — had brought with him at least forty vol- 
 umes of poets, from Spenser, of <: Faery Queen" celebrity, to 
 Tennyson, all of which bore " New-York" on the imprints. 
 Notwithstanding the poor rhymester quoted a dozen strong 
 phrases from Shakespeare and Byron to show his contempt, the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS BANDBOX. ' 165 
 
 stony-hearted officers, whom poetry could not reach, took the 
 volumes in charge, and threw them in a heap on a shelf behind 
 the searching-platform. 
 
 Mrs. Jewell was in a dreadful way lest they should rumple 
 her caps and laces, and hovered about her trunks in intense 
 alarm. The maid was half asleep, and did not seem to worry 
 herself about one very convulsed bundle that contained her 
 wardrobe. She merely followed her mistress about, maintain- 
 ing a tight grasp of the bandbox entrusted to her care. 
 
 At length Mrs. Jewell's things were announced ready for ex- 
 amination. She furnished the keys of the trunks, and answered 
 the questions that were put to her, the upshot of which was that 
 she had nothing on which she wished to pay duty. The trunks 
 were re-arranged, and all pronounced correct, when, as she was 
 preparing to leave, the officer espied the bandbox aforesaid, and 
 called the fat maid to him. She immediately grew pale, and 
 handed it to her mistress, which only served to awaken the offi- 
 cial's zeal — no difficult matter where a little fraud is suspected. 
 The old lady grasped the box, and, approaching the platform in 
 the Pompadeur style, curtsied in the most elaborate manner — 
 
 " If you please, sir," said she, in a tone of distress, " I'd 
 rather you wouldn't open this. I'm only a poor lone widow ; 
 and — and" — 
 
 "But, madam," said this fuctionary, taking the box out of her 
 arms, and winking at a brother official who was investigating a 
 dainty parcel of baby-linen that belonged to a newly-married 
 couple, " you must excuse me. It's against the law to pass any 
 covered goods — so run the conditions." 
 
 " But, sir, I assure you it's not goods — at least, not of any 
 particular importance. I know her Majesty wouldn't care if 
 she knew it. 0, please, sir, don't open it — don't !" 
 
 <: But, madam, if it's nothing you don't care about, you cer- 
 tainly can't have any objection to let me see it." 
 
 " N-n-no, n-o, no," stammered she; "but, at the same time, 
 
166 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 there are things that ladies are obliged to take "with them that 
 the world isn't obliged to see; and I've been told that what I've 
 got in that box, ships will not carry on any account. 0, don't 
 open it, sir, after I've got it so far !" 
 
 By this time the officer's duty was not only at stake, but his 
 curiosity was likewise disturbed, and untying the knot on the 
 top of the box, he removed the lid, and out jumped with a ter- 
 rific leap a huge black torn cat, frightenened out of its life at 
 the strange faces round, and alighted upon the contraband poets, 
 causing Shelley, Crabbe, and the rest of them, to tumble upon 
 the floor in a manner sufficient to jumble all the metaphor into 
 one chaotic antithesis. 
 
 " catch him ! Poor Tip ! Catch him !" shrieked the old 
 lady. " He's my darling — my pet !" 
 
 Instantly half-a-dozen shabby lads, active and officious, made 
 a grand scamper after puss ; but he had managed to scent out a 
 nook that defied discovery, and the boys were compelled to give 
 it up as a particular " bad job." The fat maid, who during this 
 scene was talking to the " white cravat" of the passage, assured 
 him that her mistress was under the firm impression that sea cap- 
 tains were superstitious about taking cats to sea, and had inno- 
 cently learned that they refused to have them at any price. 
 Old Mrs. Jewell, it Beems, worshipped little ebon " Tip," as she 
 named his catship, and had contrived the ventilated bandbox, 
 with the view of positively smuggling him across. This was the 
 mystery, then, that a whole ship's crew had been panting to un- 
 ravel. A villainous black torn cat at the bottom of the secret, 
 and yet no one had been sufficiently profound to " smell the 
 rat !" 
 
 The fat maid joined in the hunt, and thought she saw two balls 
 of fire shining behind a regiment of bales in one of the ante- 
 rooms. On examination the balls of fire were nothing more 
 than a couple of lumps of bright anthracite that the sun had 
 somehow or the other gleamed upon. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS BANDBOX. 167 
 
 The old lady followed her luggage out of the Custom-house 
 with a sad expression of face. To lose her pet after all her 
 trouble and concealment on shipboard was exasperating in the 
 extreme. She thought puss very ungrateful to run away from 
 her, considering the pangs she had borne for his safety, and ven- 
 tured to assert that the next mistress he got would not look 
 after his welfare as she had done from the time he had been 
 nothing more than a wee kitten. 
 
 One of the ragged urchins, with a precocious desire to specu- 
 late on her misery, followed Mrs. Jewell, and wanted to know 
 what she would give in case the cat could be found ? 
 
 11 Ten English shillings," said the benevolent old creature with 
 a tear in her eye. 
 
 " I'll search Liverpool over, but what I has it," said the youth. 
 " I s'pose any black cat '11 do as looks like the old 'un ?" 
 
 a No, I must have my poor Tip, or none. He's jet black? 
 with a white spot near his right smeller," promptly responded 
 Mrs. Jewell. 
 
 These facts were communicated to at least a dozen other spe- 
 culative youngsters, who, dazzled by the munificence of the 
 reward, went to work in good earnest, and before night the dis- 
 tressed lady was waited on by at least twenty different youths 
 with twenty different black cats, all bearing a prodigious resem- 
 blance to Tip, and yet differing somewhat in their feline expres- 
 sions. The old lady got so bewildered by the " striking 
 likenesses" to her late property, that she could not have clearly 
 recognized the real puss had it in reality made its appearance 
 with the rest of the applicants. In the end, she compromised 
 her feelings by purchasing one and making a pet of it at a 
 hazard, in the hope that it would prove as amiable as her late 
 darling, but ungrateful Tip. 
 
168 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 HOLIDAY TIMES. 
 
 We need, not tell the reader that the general manner of cele- 
 brating Christmas Day is much the same wherever professors 
 of the Christian faith are found, and the United States, as the 
 great transatlantic offshoot of Saxon principles, would be the 
 first to conserve the traditional ceremonies handed down from 
 time immemorial by our canonical progenitors of the east. 
 But every nation has its idiocratic notions, minute and other- 
 wise, and it is not strange that the Americans, as a creative 
 people, have peculiar and varied ways of their own in keeping 
 this, the most remarkable da}- in the Calendar. The English, 
 more substantial in their perpetuation of ancestral customs, re- 
 spect the same usages, invest the day with the usual forms, and 
 go on from year to year, in the time-honored foot-prints of tho 
 past. The Americans now and then add a supplemental form 
 to the accepted code, characteristic of the mutable and pro- 
 gressive spirit of the people ; though there exist the Church 
 service, the conventional carol, the evergreen decorations, the 
 plum-puddings, the pantomimes, and a score of other " demon- 
 strations" that never can legitimately be forgotten, 
 v Society generally seem to apportion the day. Church in tho 
 morning, dinner in the afternoon, and amusement in the even- 
 ing. The Christinas dinners concentrate the scattered mem- 
 bers of families, who meet together to break bread in social 
 harmony, and exchange those home sentiments that cement the 
 happiness of kindred. To-day the prodigal once more returns 
 to the paternal roof; the spendthrift forsakes his boon com- 
 
HOLIDAY TIMES. 169 
 
 panions ; the convivialist deserts the winecup. The beautiful 
 genius of domestic love has triumphed, and who can foresee 
 the blessed results ? 
 
 Parties, balls, and/etes, with their endless routine of gaieties, 
 are looked forward to, as pleasures are the wide world over, and 
 all classes, from highest to lowest, have their modes of enjoy- 
 ment marked out. Preparation follows preparation in festal 
 succession ; sorrow hides her gorgon head ; care may betake 
 itself to the dreariest recesses — for Christmas must be a gala ! 
 
 There is generally snow on the ground at this time. If na- 
 ture is amiable there is sure to be, and a Christmas sleigh-ride 
 is one of those American delights that defy rivalry. There is 
 no withstanding the merry chime of the bells, and a fleet pass- 
 age over the snow-skirted roads. Town and country look as 
 if they had arose in the morning in robes of unsullied white. 
 Every house-top is spangled with the bright element; soft 
 flakes are coquetting in the atmosphere ; and a pure mantle has 
 been spread on all sides, that fairly invites one to disport upon 
 its gleaming surface. 
 
 We abide quietly within our pleasant home on either the eve 
 or night of Christmas. How the sleighs glide by in rapid 
 glee ! the music of the bells and the songs of the excursionists 
 falling on our ear in very tunefulness. We strive in vain tc 
 content ourself. We glance at the cheerful fire, and hearken 
 to the genial voices around us. We philosophize and struggle 
 against the tokens of merriment without ; but the restraint is 
 torture. We, too, must join the revellers, and have a sleigh- 
 ride. Girls, get on your furs ; wrap yourself up warmly in the 
 old bear-skin ; hunt up the light guitar ! The sleigh is at the 
 door, the moon is beaming, the bells tinkle, and away we go ! 
 
 There is no such jollity on earth as a sleigh-ride. River 
 excursions on the bluest of streams, pic-nics in the floweriest of 
 dells, harvest-homes among the brownest of fields, days in the 
 field or by the brook with trout, "pickerel, and all the angler's 
 
170 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 heart could hope for, are all very well ; but they seem monoto- 
 nous and weary when compared with a dashing, old-fashioned, 
 sleighing bout. If human kind ever . made up its universal 
 mind to be agreeable, certainly it has now. Thousands of 
 sleighs of all patterns, like full-breasted swans, antelopes, Poo- 
 nah bears, and cows of Juggernaut, filled with the gayest of 
 lads and lasses, are skimming through the feathery avenues. 
 A myriad bells on the fleetest horses, ring changes that could 
 only denote an excess of merriment. The very air is palpita- 
 ting with the music-throb wildly Sounding far and near. The 
 stars twinkling in a sky unclouded, shed a subdued light on a 
 scene more vivid and joyous than our poor pen could hope to 
 illustrate. 
 
 An old Flemish legend was transplanted many years ago on 
 the shores of America, that took root and flourished with won- 
 derful luxuriance, considering it was not indigenous to the 
 country. Probably it was taken over to New- York by one of 
 the primitive Knickerbockers, or it might have clung to some 
 of the drowsy burgomasters who had forsaken the pictorial tiles 
 of dear old Amsterdam about the time Peter de Laar — or II 
 Bambocrio. as the Italians called him — got into disgrace in 
 Rome. However this may be, certain it is that Santa Klaus, 
 or St. Nicholas, the kind patron-saint of the juveniles, makes 
 his annual appearance on Christmas-eye, for the purpose of dis- 
 pensing gifts to all good children. This festive elf is supposed 
 to be a queer little creature, that descends the chimney view- 
 lessly in the deep hours of the night, laden with gifts and pre- 
 sents, which he bestows with no sparing hand, reserving to 
 himself a supernatural discrimination, that he seems to exercise 
 with every satisfaction. Before going to bed, the children 
 hang their newest stockings near the chimney, or pin them to 
 the curtains of the bed. Midnight finds a world of hosiery 
 waiting for favours, and the only wonder is that a single Santa 
 Klaus can get around among them all. The story goes that he 
 
HOLIDAY TIMES. 171 
 
 never misses one, providing it belongs to a deserving youngster, 
 and morning is sure to bring no reproach that the Christinas 
 wizard has not nobly performed his wondrous duties. "We 
 need scarcely enlighten the reader as to who the real Santa 
 Klaus is. Every indulging parent contributes to the pleasing 
 deception, though the juveniles are strong in their faith of their 
 generous holiday patron. The following favourite lines gra- 
 phically describe a visit of St. Nicholas, and being in great vogue 
 with the young people of America, are fondly reproduced from 
 year to year : — 
 
 " 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house 
 Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. 
 The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, 
 In hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there. 
 The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
 While visions of sugar-plums danced through their heads. 
 And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, 
 Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap 
 When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, 
 I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. 
 Away to the window I flew like a flash, 
 Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. 
 The moon, on the breast of the new-fallen snow, 
 Gave the lustre of noon-day to objects below : 
 "When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
 But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, 
 With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 
 I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. 
 More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, 
 And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name — 
 ' Now, Dasher ! now, Dancer ! now, Prancer ! now, Vixen ! 
 On, Comet ! on, Cupid ! on, Donder and Blixen ! 
 To the top of the porch ! to the top of the wall ! 
 Now, dash away, dash away, dash away, all I 5 
 As the leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
 When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky, 
 So up to the house-tops the coursers they flew, 
 With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas, too, 
 
172 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof 
 The prancing and pawing of each little hoof 5 
 As I drew in my head, and turning around, 
 Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. 
 He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, 
 And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. 
 A bundle of toys he had flung on his back. 
 And he looked like a pedlar just opening his pack. 
 His eyes, how they twinkled ! his dimples how merry ! 
 His cheeks were like roses — his nose like a cherry ; 
 His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, 
 And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow ; 
 The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 
 And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. 
 He had a broad face, and a little round belly, 
 That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly ; 
 He was chubby and plump — a right jolly old elf; 
 And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. 
 A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, 
 Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. 
 He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, 
 And filled all the stockings — then turned with a jerk, 
 And laying his fiuger aside of his nose, 
 And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. 
 He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle — 
 Away they all flew, like the down off a thistle ; 
 But I heard him exclaim, as he -drove out of sight, 
 1 Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-xigu t !' " 
 
 A curious feature of an American Christmas is the egg-nog 
 and free lunch distributed at all the hotels and cafes. A week 
 at least before the 25th, fanciful signs are suspended over the 
 fountains of the bars (the hotel-keepers are quite ideal in their 
 notions), announcing superb lunch and egg-nog on Christmas 
 day. This invitation is sure to meet with a large response from 
 the amateur epicures about town, who, ever on the qui vive for 
 a banquet gratis, flock to the festive standard, — since it has 
 never been found a difficult matter to give things away, from the 
 time old Heliogabalus gastronomed in Phoenicia up to the pres- 
 
HOLIDAY TIMES. 173 
 
 ent time. A splendid hall in one of the principal hotels at this 
 present moment occurs to us. A table, the length of the apart- 
 ment, is spread and furnished with twenty made dishes, peculiar 
 to the Christmas cuisine. There are chowders and fricasees, 
 ragouts and calipee of rapturous delicacy. Each dish is label- 
 led, and attended by a black servant, who serves its contents on 
 very small, white, gilt-edged plates. At the head of the table 
 a vast bowl, ornamented with indescribable Chinese figures, 
 contains the " egg-nog" — a palatable compound of milk, eggs, 
 brandy and spices, nankeenish in colour, with froth enough on 
 its surface to generate any number of Venuses, if the old Pelo- 
 ponesian anecdote is worth remembering at all. Over the egg- 
 nog mine host usually officiates, all smiles and benignity, 
 dispensing the rich draught with miraculous dexterity into cut- 
 glass goblets, and passing it to the surrounding guests with 
 profusive hand. On this occasion the long range of fancy drinks 
 are forgotten ; sherry-cobblers, mint-juleps, gin-slings and 
 punches are set aside, in order that the sway of the Christmas 
 draught may be supreme. Free lunches are extremely common 
 in the United States ; what are called 11 -o'clock-snacks especial- 
 ly ; but the accompaniment of egg-nog belongs unequivocally 
 to the death of the year 
 
 The presentation of " boxes'' and souvenirs is the same in 
 America as in England, the tokens of remembrance having all 
 inseparable alliance with the period. Everybody expects to 
 give and receive. A month before the event the fancy stores 
 are crowded all day long with old and young, in search of suita- 
 ble souvenirs; and every object is purchased, from costliest 
 gems, to the tawdiest knick-knack that may get into the market. 
 If the weather should be fine, the principal streets are thronged 
 with ladies shopping in sleighs, aud hither and thither steeds 
 shoot by, laden with parcels of painted toys, instruments of mock 
 music and septuagenarian dread, from a penny trumpet to a 
 sheep-skin drum. The store-keepers are thriving off the half- 
 
174 DASHES OF AMERICAN IIUMOR. 
 
 yearly savings of countless money-boxes, and the owners of all 
 this chance-collected wealth are only too glad to know there 
 exist such people as toy-men, to take their money at this festal 
 season. 
 
 The American tradesman is a rare one for crying up the 
 superiority of his goods, though tradesmen in all civilized coun- 
 tries are apt enough in this respect, for the matter of that. At 
 the holiday times he is thrice clamorous in his assurances and 
 protestations. " Only look at our stock of beautiful toys," 
 says the dealer in tableW. He. u Our bonbons and vanillas con- 
 sume themselves with their own sweetness," urges an anxious 
 confectioner. " Only think how cheap every article of jewelry 
 is to be bought, from a pendologue to a pencil-case," advertises 
 a man of gems ; while le Monsieur Tailleur affectionately rec- 
 ommends the million to not waste a moment, but hasten and 
 purchase his "incomparable pale&dts." 
 
 The windows of the toy-shops present a brilliant bewilderment 
 of dancing-jacks, gilded lutes, golden bowls, wooden menageries 
 and arabesque nonsense, suggesting the idea that the artisans 
 of the earth must have assembled together in fanciful conven- 
 tion, and devoted a week to the comic concocticn of entertaining 
 jimcrackery. The pastry cooks, not to be out-done, have fur- 
 nished their saloons with a drapery of winter foliage, and perched 
 Santa Klaus in the corner, where he smiles on all who enter 
 to purchase gingerbread maninkins, picturesquely sugared ready 
 for consumption. 
 
 The market-houses (there is one in Philadelphia two miles 
 long) are hung with holly and crowded with vendors of that 
 species of ornate spice cake common at English fairs. The 
 various stalls are designated by curtains of red, crimson, yellow 
 or orange material, that, swaying in the cold clear wind, have a 
 somewhat oriental effect. The attendants are not unlike the 
 pedlar-poets of Cairo — barring the sash and turban — extempo- 
 rizing their wares (if swallowable substances can be thus set 
 down) in the most epigrammatic of jingle. 
 
HOLIDAY TIMES. 175 
 
 The Pantomime, though not entirely neglected in the United 
 States, is by no means a prominent Christmas feature, from a 
 variety of circumstances. London could scarcely get along 
 without seeing the motley face of Mr. Clown at least once a 
 year. Our Columbines are of the earth, earthy ; neither prac- 
 ticed nor aerial, and lacking the buoyant sprightliness requisite 
 to create an effect. Although we have had the " dancing dips," 
 and wondered how tallow was taught the saltatory art, and mar- 
 velled at the didactic jest of the clock face, yet we are far behind 
 in the miraculous niinutke of the pantomime. A sleigh-ride 
 will triumph over the drollest Griinaldi that ever rouged his 
 countenance, and the snow unfortunately makes its appearance 
 at the very moment that Harlequin is ready to quiver his bat. 
 
 Christmas seems to be a popular period among the young folks 
 for being mated, and a surprising number approach the altar 
 this morning. Whether it is that orange-flowers and bridal 
 gifts are admirably adapted to the time, or that a longer lease 
 of happiness is ensured from the joyous character of the occa- 
 sion, we are not sufficiently learned in hymeneal lore to an- 
 nounce. The Christmas week, however, is a merry one for the 
 honeymoon, as little is thought of than mirth and gaiety until 
 the dawning New- Year soberly suggests that we should put aside 
 our masquerade manners. 
 
 In drawing-room amusements society has a wealth of pleasing 
 in-door pastimes. We remember the sententious question-?-e- 
 unions, the hilarious surprise parties, fairy-bowl, and hunt-the 
 slipper. We can never forget the vagabond Calathumpians, 
 who employ in their bands everything inharmonious, from a 
 fireshovel to a stewpan, causing more din than the demons down 
 under the sea ever dreamed of. These Calathumpians, by the 
 way, are impudently musical, with no idea of (; time, tune nor 
 chromatics," essaying a Te Deum on a pair of tongs, and Sta- 
 bat Mater-ing with a vengeance on bone castanets, nothing in 
 fear of the shade of Rossini, or any other great composer. 
 
176 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 A great piece of humor on Christmas night is the " Reading 
 of the Mottoes" — a hat full of poetic nonsense pencilled on 
 cards, being contributed to by every member of the household 
 and a circle of friends, who collect for the evening's amusement. 
 The reader is selected from the company by sugar ballots — blue 
 representing one, green another, and so on, until one is selected 
 — most generally a clever young lady, who is looked up as the 
 clashing Ninon of rompishness tod mischief The cards are 
 then collected, and the declaimer of the mottoes sits under the 
 Christmas tree, and reads them in order, merrily episoding on 
 their character, and guessing at the authors as she proceeds. If 
 she be successful, she is presented with paper cones full of 
 sweetmeats, supposed to be the " food of love;" aud if, on the 
 other hand, she fails, a pleasant penalty is settled by a committee 
 of the company, mostly girls, who are certain to think of some 
 droll infliction that will tease the heroine into a future wariness 
 should she ever again be called on to fiud the rhymsters. The 
 mottoes, usually, are nothing more than a smart collection of 
 sly epigrams, hits at the times, poetic personalities, and odd 
 scraps thrown off ad libit \u m to Buit the whim of the moment. 
 Much of the fun therefore depends on the way the whole game is 
 conducted, a number of Bprightly people being able to eke out an 
 animated hour of gaiety, while a social circle not particularly 
 vivid would make a very dreary affair of it indeed. 
 
 What, then, between the sleigh-rides, the bell-melodies, Santa 
 Klaus and his fictions, the egg-nog and lunches, the weddings 
 and the willingness to be entertained, the Americans find no 
 difficulty in enjoying Christmas-day. Old forms and new 
 notions come in for a share of observance, and the young country 
 in a glow of good humor with one voice exclaims, Le bon temps 
 viendra ! 
 
177 
 
 STEAMBOAT EXCURSIONS BY MOONLIGHT. 
 
 The " mighty Thames," the " rushing Darl," and the " placid 
 Avon," are all pretty pet little streams, abounding in the most 
 genial and picturesque landscape scenery that can be imagined ; 
 but in the matter of rivers, as every traveller knows, America 
 possesses some of the largest and most magnificent on the globe. 
 The Amazon, of Brazil; the Ohio, Mississippi, Hudson, and 
 i Delaware, of the United States; and the St. Lawrence, on the 
 Canadian borders, are delightful specimens of fresh-water gran- 
 Ideur. To set aside the value of these streams in a commercial 
 point of view, and the pre-eminence they give the country in 
 (natural advantages, we cannot be insensible to the varied and 
 ^numerous pleasures they afford the communities that reside on 
 their banks — and foremost in the modes of gratification may be 
 ranked the steamboat excursions when the moon is gilding the 
 waters, and the delicate pencil of eventide touching up Nature 
 with its chromo-nocturnal tints of subdued sableness — (to coin 
 a word for the occasion). 
 
 An American steamboat differs vastly in capability and mode 
 of construction from the French and English contrivances. We 
 can conceive nothing more cramped, harsh, and unpleasant, than 
 
 paddle up to Kew on an ill-looking, dingy, Thames boat, 
 crowded to suffocation, with a blazing sun pouring upon your 
 exposed head — or a spasmodic run down the Soane, with noth- 
 ing to relieve the eye but a group of villas here and there in the 
 oeighbourhood of Lyons — or a narrow galvanic voyage on the 
 Rhine, with the effluvia from the smoke-pipe perpetually flying in 
 
178 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 your eyes. Here we find fault with the medium ; though if 
 those rivers were broader and more capacious, certainly steam- 
 boats of an ampler character would ere this have made their 
 appearance. 
 
 The American steamboats vary in many respects. On the 
 eastern rivers they are luxuries ; while those of the gigantic 
 Mississippi and western streams are ponderous, unwieldy, and 
 inelegant. A Hudson River or Delaware boat, without being 
 ungracefully large, possesses just sufficient roominess for all 
 festive purposes ; although, in justice to the western craft we 
 would remark, they are built more with a view to the reception 
 of merchandize than the accommodation of passengers. A 
 vessel may be too large, as well as too small ; and to our taste 
 the eastern river boats are just the capacity to insure beauty 
 and comfort. 
 
 An American steamboat floats upon the waters as gracefully 
 as a swan. There is au absence of all that dreadful pulling, 
 grunting, and confusion about the mechanical region, so calcu- 
 lated to upset a sybarite. She drops down the stream with au 
 easy dignity, (juite captivating; and indulges in no unseemly 
 sounds or convulsive jars to mar the elegance of the impression. 
 The large pleasure boats have two, and in some eases three 
 distinct decks, each appointed with becoming suitableness. The 
 upper or promenade deck (usually about two hundred and ten 
 feet in length) is skirted with cane chairs and benches ; leaving 
 the centre and sides for the purpose which its name suggests. 
 The forward portion of the second deck is apportioned to light 
 articles of merchandize, and is the only place on the boat not 
 tabooed in respect to cigars. 
 
 Aft on this deck is the ladies' grand cabin, connecting with 
 special cabins, private apartments, and retiring rooms. Gentle- 
 men are never allowed to cross these exclusive thresholds, except 
 in the principal cabin, which privilege is only granted if he be 
 so fortunate as to have the companionship of one of the fair. 
 
STEAMBOAT EXCURSIONS BY MOONLIGHT. 179 
 
 These apartments are furnished in the most costly and appro- 
 priate manner. There is luxury with propriety, and grandeur 
 without gaudiness. Few drawing-rooms in the large cities 
 exhibit more taste than the ladies' cabins. They are not over- 
 crowded, which is something of the secret ; but the mirrors, 
 fauteuils, lounges, sofas, curtains, ottomans, and pianos are 
 placed at becoming intervals, with a harmony of arrangement 
 quite artistic to the eye. The severest decorist could take no 
 exception to the want of keeping. 
 
 The gentleman's cabin is substantially furnished, with this 
 unimportant difference, that the carpet is not so choice in pat- 
 tern and quality as that the ladies are permitted to press ; and 
 this, we fancy, arises from the predisposition of American gen- 
 tlemen to indulge in reckless expectoration, without u aim or 
 the fear of consequence," as somebody has expressed it. "Vfe 
 find here no beautiful Sevres vases, filled with blooming flowers, 
 occupying the graceful angles of the apartment ; but in lieu of 
 these, very noticeable round tables, strewn with papers and 
 books, claim a certain share of weary leisure, that supplies in a 
 harsher sense the absence of floral gifts. Ladies and flowers — 
 men and newspapers, are consistent associations. The chairs 
 may not seem as velvety as those " t'other sex " are permitted 
 to occupy ; but when it is remembered that the masculines feel 
 no compunctions at elevating their toes on a line with their 
 labials — particularly in a political dispute as to who ought to 
 be President of the United States — the difference is reasonably 
 apparent. 
 
 The basement cabins are divided off in systematic style for 
 the purpose of dining, lounging, and drinking. Each boat is 
 thoughtfully provided with a bar and barber's-shop, where the 
 fatigued traveller can have his whiskers curled in one and the 
 cobwebs removed from his throat at the other, with a spirit of ac- 
 commodativeness quite delightful under the circumstances. These 
 are conveniences that reflect credit upon the tact and manage- 
 
180 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 ment of the conductors, whoever they may be, and which render 
 "making one's way" on an American steamboat quite a matter 
 of pleasure as well as progress. 
 
 The excellence of a steamboat dinner is a proverb ; their 
 cooks, cuisi)ie, and waiters are all marque au Ion coin. The 
 cooks are fatter, the waiters more deferential " ten times over," 
 the table-cloth white, and the comestibles better than can be 
 found anywhere else ; and those are all great points. One's 
 gastronomic longings arc never put to the blush by a tortured 
 relcve in the matter of a bilious-looking jambon, and the chick- 
 ens have not that done-a-long-time-ish-ncs- of appearance that 
 frightens appetite in the maimer that eccentric .scarecrows will 
 put to flight the hardiest of birds. Completeness reigns through- 
 out. The napkins are folded until they resemble cambric car- 
 toons ; the salt-cellars and their excellent friends, the pepper- 
 boxes, arc never out of your reach ; and if a porringer that you 
 desire, meet not your finger-tips, the merest effort in the world 
 will secure it. When fasting, invalids desire a change and a 
 " good dinner," the salle d manger of the steamboat is their 
 resort, and a serviceable one we have found it. 
 
 It is the moonlight excursions that exhibit the American 
 steamboat in all its glor}'. The neatly-painted decks have been 
 washed, the promenades arranged, the cabins set to rights, and, 
 in short, every article aboard seems determined to put on its 
 best looks for the occasion. The excursion is, say, twenty miles 
 < — to a pleasant country town: the month, August, and the moon 
 is supposed to smile very brightly and delightfully on every 
 object terrestrial. A brass and string band of considerable 
 force is engaged, coloured lights are suspended here and there 
 — an ignipotent echo of a Vauxhall effort ; the waiters (mostly 
 negroes) have made themselves very smart, and the extra bar- 
 keepers of the " lower cabin" are up to their whiskers in bunches 
 of mint, lemons, pine-apples, peaches, and " the wherewith" to 
 construct pleasant and patent drinks. 
 
STEAMBOAT EXCURSIONS BY MOONLIGHT. 181 
 
 The boat in question is called the " Star of the Waters" — 
 the Americans revelling in pretty titles for their conveyances — 
 and she has advertised to leave the pier at half-past eight pre- 
 cisely, in order to return, if possible, by midnight — a judicious 
 arrangement to please the anxious mamas of various young 
 ladies who may wish to " trip it on the light fantastic" by the 
 light of the moon. The price of the trip is one dollar for a 
 gentleman and two ladies — another thoughtful proviso, that 
 the feminines may be abundant ; and by the time the even- 
 ing star twinkles through its blue shroud, the voyageurs 
 assemble. 
 
 The scene grows vivid. How the ladies smile and laugh as 
 they flit over the promenades 1 Here is a coquette, with spark- 
 ling eye, getting up a flirtation with a handsome friend of her 
 beau's, just to tease the poor fellow. There is a group of girls 
 in undulating muslin, with pink sashes and brown ringlets, all 
 in the gayest of humours. The captain of the boat is talking 
 with a charming young lady, splendidly attired, who has just 
 arrived ; and who, we feel confident, will establish herself as the 
 belle of the night -before the " witching hour" arrives. What 
 an array of demi-toilettes ! — skirts of every hue, and bodices 
 fashioned with exquisite skill ; head-dresses, from a single white 
 flower in the hair, to the sparkling tiara that crowns the darkest 
 locks. 
 
 The "tickets are all in" (to use a conventional phrase of 
 the water), and with majestic quietude the " Star" hauls off into 
 the stream, and sets her bow towards her rustic destination. 
 Viewing her from the pier, how magnificent the spectacle ! The 
 lights beam in roseate grotesqueness — a myriad of forms in the 
 wildest glee are stirring about the decks — the sounds of the 
 music steal over the waters — the waves ripple joyously by — the 
 Queen of the Night rides lovingly in the heavens — and all tells 
 of festivity and happiness. 
 
 We watch the boat until it is out of sight. The lights fade 
 
182 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 gradually away ; the strains of the music die gently upon the 
 air — no more we recognize the soft plash of the waves. The 
 excursionists have gone, and are now mingling in the mazes of 
 the quadrille, and " making love" in the lustre of the moonbeams. 
 Happy creatures ! 
 
183 
 
 JONATHAN AT THE OPERA, 
 
 A Yankee in Paris — we mean an unadulterated, verdant, 
 knotty specimen — is something of a curiosity. In the whirl- 
 pool of plaited trowsers and sable mustaches he looks like somo 
 remarkable nondescript that has got astray — the contrast is so 
 great between your be-whiskered yellow Frenchman and the 
 long, gawky, Saxon-countenanced American. Throw a curiously 
 carved chip on the bosom of the sea, and let it float far from 
 the shores of civilization — perhaps it will be picked up with a 
 flood of wonderment. Set down on the dashing Boulevards a 
 raw, primitive, bony Vermonter, with no idea of society and the 
 conventionalities of countries, and he will be as great an oddity 
 as one could well conceive. 
 
 "When we were in Paris, last year, we encountered one of the 
 latter class. He was disgracefully verdant, and had crossed the 
 ocean to introduce a " scythe-sharpener," for which he had taken 
 out a patent; but, according to his own account, everybody 
 spoke so much French he could'nt make them understand what 
 he wanted to do. Of course, he had been sight-seeing, and had 
 examined everything, from the antiques of the Louvre to the 
 whirligig flourishes on the Obelisk of Luxor, much to his grat- 
 ification. After dinner one day, over the remains of a flacon 
 of Bordeaux he gave us a running account of his visit to the 
 opera, which we will endeavour to transcribe, as nearly as pos- 
 posible, in his own words : — 
 
 " The fact is," said he producing a pocket-knife, and a slip of 
 wood, as thick as an adult's fore-finger, which he whittled with a 
 
184 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 dainty dexterity, " I come to France with an eye to biz'ness ; 
 and if I could pick up some crums of information, all well and 
 good. But I've got a scythe-sharpener that beats everything 
 that was ever invented clean out of the field — yes, far out of 
 sight and gone ! That's no braggin', on my honour. These 
 Frenchmen may be as ingenious as you please, but they can no 
 more compare with the Yankees in agricultural things than you 
 could expect to build an arsenal of duck-eggs. I can make a 
 scythe so desperate sharp that its shadow would be dangerous 
 if you should run agin it in the dark ; and as for the old system 
 of whetting-stones, the farmers in Vermont swear by me jist as 
 the Turks did by Mahommed. 
 
 " But changin' the subject, this Paris is { one of the places,' 
 now is'nt it ? Them Boo-le-vards are high old streets — beat 
 Broadway and the Bowery all over ! And that palace — what 
 do you call it ? — the Tweeleries — that goes a-head of everything 
 I ever saw, except Buckin'ham Palace, where the Queen boards 
 in London. I went to the opera 'tother night to hear Albony 
 — did you ever hear Albony sing. She's a jolly, fat, comfortable- 
 lookin' critter ; but she's got a voice as sweet as sugar, now, I 
 tell you. Well, before I went to the opera, somebody told me - 
 I must put on white kids and carry a boquet. I up and said I 
 would't, and then they allowed if I did'nt I could 'nt git in ; so as 
 I wanted to hear Albony, I thought I'd violate my conscience, 
 and do it. I went to one of them glove-shops in the Roo Pus- 
 sinair, and a mighty slick-lookin' gal — with her hair twisted like 
 mint-sticks around her head — fitted me with a pair, though I 
 had a dreadful time to make her understand what I wanted. I 
 pinted first to my hands, and she laughed and showed a double 
 row of ivories, and got down a gilt bottle with a label on it, 
 ' Amandine,' or somethin' like that ; but as I did'nt want no 
 gilt bottles, I shook my head, and made motions as if I was 
 pullin' on a glove, and at last she took the hint. 
 
 " I 'spose I must have split six pairs before I got one to fit ; 
 
JONATHAN AT THE OTL [Q$ 
 
 and it would'nt have gone on at all, if the gal had'nl coaxed and 
 rubbed it on with her little white fingers. Talk about hands 
 — hers was lilies alongside of my great mallets ! Well, arter I 
 got the gloves, I had a deuce of a time before I could pay for 
 them. She could'nt make me understand how much they were, 
 nor I could'nt make her explain clear enough ; so I had to end 
 the matter by takin' out a handful of money, and lettin' her 
 help herself. Talk about uncomfortable people ! I think I was 
 the greatest wretch in them gloves ! It was the first pair I 
 ever had on in my life, and I walked about as if I had committed 
 some dreadful sin. 
 
 " The next thing was to get a bocjuet ; but as I could'nt see 
 one handy. I bought a bunch of water-cresses, and, mixin' a 
 dozen big stumpy scarlet radishes amongst 'em, I got my ticket 
 and walked in. Everybody stared at me, and feelin' saasy, I 
 stared back just as hard as they did. Lookhr up into the gal- 
 lery, I saw a passel of young chaps, all whiskers and jewelry, 
 pintin' at my boquet, and laughin' as if they'd tear their mus- 
 taches. I looked up two or three times, and made mouths at 
 'em ; but instead of their stopping it only made 'em wus. And 
 at last I got mad, and jerkin off my kids with one pull that 
 ripped 'em as systematic as anything you ever saw, I picked out 
 the radishes from my boquet, and commenced firm' 'em at the 
 bilious-lookin' wretches, Lord ! how they scattered ! I knocked 
 one feller's hat off, and it tumbled into the pit Another drop- 
 ped his lorgn — (the things they look through to fetch the gals 
 nearer), and three or four, in the hurry to git out of the way, 
 tripped over the back-benches, and came sprawling on tew the 
 floor. 
 
 " Three or four men rushed over to me, and spluttered away 
 somethin' in French ; but they might as well have held their 
 tongues, for I could'nt make out a word they said, A gentle- 
 man sittin' in the next box. who understood the American 
 language, translated what they said to me — ' They say you've 
 broken the peace, and you must go out' 
 
186 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOE. 
 
 a < 
 
 Tell 'em I won't do no sich thing. Those fellers laughed 
 at me, and I didn't pay my money to come in here to be snig- 
 gered at.' 
 
 11 He told 'em; but they told him back that I must leave, as 
 the audience were very much excited. Just then Albony made 
 her appearance, and waddled to music down to the row of gn*. 
 and pitched her voice in a key that ought to have restored 
 quiet ; but instead of doing so, everybody was taken up with 
 me, and bawled and squalled like a trunk full of tom-cats. 
 
 " - Ho-o-o-o !' shouted the gallery. 
 
 t; ■ Hi-i-i-i !' screeched the pit. 
 
 " ' Vo-o-o-o !' murmured the boxes*. 
 
 '■ I saw then there was no use tryin' to stop where I was , 
 and, gitting up to go, I found I had jist one radish left in my 
 boquct. I threw my eyes up to the gallery, and saw a long- 
 nosed cuss with a ruffled shirt, pintin' to me, and swearin' like I 
 a trooper. I marked him well, and, drawin' off. I let go the 
 bble, and it took him alongside the head in a manner that 
 made him have a singin' of the ' Marsallais 1 in his ears, pro 
 vided there was anything like tune in his body. This ki' 
 up a fresh excitement, fur the fellow roared like a bull, he was 
 so mad, and I thought he would have slid down one of the 
 pillars to get at me. 
 
 " Before I could leave the boxes, three men pulled me by the 
 coat mighty rough, and when I got into the lobby, I said 
 ■ Good-night !' But I found they had no idea of partin' with 
 me so soon ; and the upshot of the whole thing was, that I had 
 an escort to the police-office, where I was seated in company 
 with a parcel of Johnny Darmes. Thinks I to myself, I might 
 as well take this thing easy, and, so sendin' for a franc's-worth 
 of cigars, I treated the cocked hats all around, and we had a 
 jolty time till morning. 
 
 "About twelve o'clock, I was taken before a squire — I 
 reckon he was, only they don't call 'cm squires here — and an 
 
 
JONATHAN AT THE OPERA. 187 
 
 interpreter asked me a hull procession of questions about who 
 I was, where did I come from, and where I was goin'. I patted 
 my own head, and said, after every one, ' Bon Amerique !' for 
 that was about all of their confounded gibberish I knew. A 
 passel of chaps in gowns and black inquisition-looking caps then 
 put their noses together; and, in the end, they told the inter- 
 preter to tell me that it would cost twenty francs to once more 
 get fresh air. I asked them to knock a little off, if they could 
 manage it ; but the judge, a dog-eyed man, squinted, mumbled 
 Bomethin' to the lawyers, and I had to count out the money. 
 Talk about French politeness ! They didn't as much as say, 
 1 Thank you' for it, and I marched off with the determination 
 that the next time I went to the opera to take no substitute for 
 flowers, but get the real thing, if I had to go out of town and 
 pluck 'em. 
 
 " "Watercress boquets and radish-blossoms won't do in 
 
 Paris !" 
 
188 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOIl, 
 
 JEDEDIAH DOUGHKIXS. 
 
 Jedediah Doughkins was a Yankee farmer, living a few miles 
 from Bangor, in the State of Maine. Like most Yankee farm- 
 ers, he was possessed of a good share of the national charae. 
 teristic shrewdness found in that class of Ncw-Englandcrs on 
 the other side of the river Merrimack, u looking east ;" though 
 in the ways of the world and the finesse of the times he was 
 profoundly verdant, as much so as his own clover tops before 
 budding. Jedediah was a tall, knotty " specimen," with round 
 goggle eyes, long carrotty hair, a good-natured mouth, only 
 two of the front teeth were not at home, with a big seed-wart 
 on his nasal protuberance, which latter, by the way. was far 
 from a pug, drooping, as it were, like a fatigued willow over a 
 duck-pond. His usual dress — " the one he went about house 
 in" — consisted of a pair of old ox-hide boots, the scams of which 
 were always interlarded with hog's-grease, which was done, as 
 Jed said, il to keep out the contarnal water;" a pair of trowsers, 
 made in the highest style of crude, home-spun art, of the very 
 finest quality of bed-ticking, which was perpetually to be seen 
 labelled at all the country shops, "Six cents per yard, by the 
 piece;" coat, linsey woolsey, painfully shaggy, with an incon- 
 sistently long tail, draggling about if he happened to stoop, 
 and which tapered down like the letter V ; shirt, of course tex* 
 ture, unstarched and unironed, with a collar of broad dimen- 
 sions, that two inches longer would have resembled a wilted 
 monk's cowl, and never by any chance " stood straight up," but 
 hung over every which way, full of undefined crinks and crh> 
 
JEDEDIAH DOUGIIKINS. 189 
 
 kles ; vest, of an antique pattern, the colour of faded dirt, with a 
 figure that was artistically intended to represent a smart sports- 
 man, but which in reality looked more like an intoxicated Jack 
 of Diamonds with a crooked shillelah ; his hat — not to make a 
 beastly old pun, so we thus episodically warn the reader not to 
 accuse us — was the crowning " brick" of this tenement of od- 
 ditude (a coinage ; how do you like it ?) — it looked as if it had 
 passed through " fiery trials," or had belonged to some of Noah's 
 very intimate friends. Of course it was a beaver, an out-and- 
 out frowsy, foozey old beaver, shaped not like a bell, nor a 
 u Scaramouch," nor what is called in England a " wide awake," 
 nor yet a stove pipe, nor pear pattern, but something like the 
 whole of these, with perhaps an ascendancy of the pear — that 
 is, a certain burliness just below the crown that imparted to it 
 a droll yet comfortable aspect. By some unaccountable chance 
 this hat was always, or in all proper bounds nearly so, on his 
 head ; and his long grizzled yellow ha<r, " tangled but not silky," 
 hung over his freckled cheeks like two terrified tassels on a win- 
 dow sill. Thus attired, Jedediah wandered about his few acres 
 of ground, the admired owner of a number of pigs, cows, chick- 
 ens, turkeys, and dogs, all of whom seemed instantly to know 
 their master, and respected him accordingly. 
 
 Jedediah had a wife — a round, oily little woman — who, from 
 having lived in the early part of her life in a good-sized village, 
 had contracted a certain fondness for dress, and therefore was 
 less bizarre in her costume than her spouse. A red shawl, for 
 example, was her " anguish," and when flounces first came up, 
 she got them so high as to look like a chubby or old-fashioned 
 cask, hooped around clear up to the head. She had a great 
 weakness for fans, too, ornamented with " picters of things." 
 So far did she carry this fantastic notion, that she had one for 
 every day in the week, and a splendid large pet one for the Sab- 
 bath. There was her Monday fan, with a scene on the River 
 Hudson, done in water colours. Her Tuesday one had a little 
 
190 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 oil painting of a scene in Greece, and a gilt handle. Then came 
 the "Wednesday, with Bonaparte crossing the Alps, with one of 
 the ears and half of the tail of the hero's horse obliterated. 
 This was a present from Jedediah when they were courting. He 
 used to look at the fan when he couldn't think of anything 
 better to say, and remark, " "What a great man Bony must have 
 been, to git his horse over them mountings !" The Thursday 
 one was emblazoned with the head of Washington ; and Glo- 
 ryann Billings, one of her nieces, used to say, " that she loved 
 that fan bekayse the good old feythcr of his country was on it ;" 
 and Jedediah often said, that the " General was one of the boys 
 for trowsers ;" and then wonder if he'd ever have a son that 
 would make so much " stir in this world/' The Friday fan was 
 intended as a representation of a Chinese family ; but the col- 
 ours had run so, that it would have taken a skilful ethenologist 
 to make out the race. The Saturday one was slightly zoologi- 
 cal in intention, delineating an elephant attacked by tigers, but 
 which in reality suggested the appearance of an irregularly- 
 erected two-storied house, with a couple of absurd-looking torn 
 cats, ready to make a jump if required. The Sunday one was 
 trimmed round with feathers, and never by any chance made 
 its appearance, except on the " good day," after which it was 
 carefully embedded in the best drawer, among a handful of dried 
 rose leave?. 
 
 Jedediah (if it is not meddlesome to reveal family secrets) 
 did not altogether approve of his wife's leaning towards finery, 
 and frequently gave her a piece of his honest mind on the sub- 
 ject of everything in the way of furbelows. She said he was 
 foolish and old-fashioned, and he said she was sour-tempered and 
 stuck up. He thought she was wrong, and she kneio she was 
 right. She argued that a moderate regard to fashion was essen- 
 tial in a woman, and as far as that went she was determined " to 
 be in the season until she was four-and-forty." He would then 
 doff that old fur hat for a moment, rub his sleeve over it, in 
 
JEDEDIAH DOUGHKINS. 191 
 
 order to settle the nap ; look at her for a moment with his 
 great round eyes ; resume the hat again ; twist his hair with 
 his thumb, and then walk off. This was his only demonstration 
 up to the present time ; hut circumstances knocked so loudly 
 one day at the door of his temper, that he " let out a little," as 
 will be seen. 
 
 Shortly after the Bloomer mania broke out, Dame Doughkins, 
 unknown to her husband, gradually became tinctured with 
 the idea of the short skirts and Turkish don't-speak-of-'ems. 
 She had read in the village paper a graphic detail of the 
 mode of making the dress, with so glowing a description of 
 its appearance and advantages, that she secretly and Stoutly 
 resolved on having an outfit, if it were just to say that she had 
 " followed the fashuns." In this determination she received the 
 approval of a neighbour, one Mrs. Rhuty Tute, a friend from 
 town, who used to pay her a monthly visit, and bring down 
 more gossip and scandal than would fill a volume the size of 
 " Cooke's Complete Voyages," even were it printed in agate, 
 which, as all booksellers know, takes in a vast deal of matter to 
 the page. Mrs. Rhuty Tute was a sort of Mrs. Malaprop, a 
 cross between that loquacious old lady, and the present Mrs. 
 Partington, with her brain full of whimsical conceits of dress 
 and fashion, and a tongue that ran with painful intermission. 
 
 Several letters passed on the subject of this bloomer costume, 
 and before long Mrs. Rhuty Tute, overflowing with intelligence, 
 posted down to the farm, where she found her friend up in arms 
 and eager to meet her. Oh, such a chatter as they had ! She 
 had, of course, brought with her patterns and plans, matter and 
 material, for the new costume, of which poor Jedediah was all 
 in the dark. 
 
 " Now, I do say that this stuff will look superb," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Rhuty Tute, displaying two-and-a-half yards of peach- 
 coloured silk, and feasting her gaze on the figures of it. a Mr. 
 Smith, the shopman, says that it is so scarce because it's a little 
 out of seasoD." 
 
192 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Well, I guess he's about right," said Mrs. Doughkins; " I 
 haint seen naar-ee peach tint for a long time in these parts. 
 That's to make the petty-loons, I reckon." 
 
 " No, dear, that's for what they calls the * visite' — they calls 
 'em on the stage a tunic, but Mrs. Bloomer says it's wulgar to 
 use stage words in society, and so we calls 'em vreites. It is 
 wery like the common mantilla what everybody wears." 
 
 It was arranged that a Bloomer dress should be at once pre- 
 pared ; and the ladies proceeded to work. 31 rs. llhuty Tute 
 directed the patterns, and Mrs. Jedediah plied her needle accord- 
 ing to instructions. 
 
 " Dear me, how Jed will look when he sees me dressed all up 
 in this ! He won't know me, will he ?" asked the dame. 
 
 u Won't he, indeed ? To be sure he will, only he'll say you 
 look ten years younger," replied Mrs. llhuty Tute. 
 
 " We'll never say a blessed word to him until we get ail 
 ready." 
 
 " Not a syllable. We'll take him quite by surprise," continued 
 Mrs. llhuty Tute. winking her gray tabby eyes, and puckering 
 up her mouth with an amiable leer. 
 
 And ardently these worthy ladies bent over the materials of 
 their new enterprise. When Jedediah happened to stalk into 
 the apartment, they slipped the Bloomer trimmings aside, and 
 supplied their place by a roll of sober-looking patchwork. He, 
 good easy soul, never dreamed of what was going on, although 
 an occasional glance at Mrs. llhuty Tute seemed to indicate a 
 tacit objection to her presence. A bevy of lively little French 
 milliners never chatted so familiarly over gilt finery as the two 
 Bloomer converts. Mrs. llhuty Tute once or twice absolutely 
 grew playful, and went so far as to say that she would't have 
 cared a pin if she had been born a man — the trowsers were so 
 easy. One little box contained studs and ribbons and tassels, 
 and another contained pretty pearl buttons and wristlets of 
 various patterns, all of which Mrs. llhuty Tute had brought 
 
 
JEDEDIAH DOUGHKINS. 193 
 
 "with her, by way of creating a modicum of astonishment in the 
 bosom of her friend. 
 
 After the dresses were completed, it was decided tnat they 
 should be worn immediately after dinner. Jedediah would be 
 gone, to the barn, and by the time he got back all would be 
 ready. The arrangement then was, that Mrs. Doughkins should 
 be attired first, as the description she had read in the village 
 paper did not clearly enlighten her as to the manner of getting 
 into each respective habiliment, and her friend's assistance was, 
 under the circumstances, almost indispensable. The secrets of 
 a lady's dressing-room are held, and properly too, sacredly 
 inviolable, so we will content ourselves with merely imagining 
 that they must have had a funny time in assuming the new 
 garb. Mrs. Doughkins, at the best of periods, even when about 
 that which she thoroughly understood, was never remarkable for 
 grace or aptness ; so we have a right to suppose that she — fat, 
 chubby little creature as she was — suffered some mental agita- 
 tion, though momentary it might have been. 
 
 Peleg, a servant-man, had been two days borrowing small 
 looking-glasses, on the sly, from the neighbours around, for 
 which subornation Mrs. Khuty Tute had graciously rewarded 
 him with two cents, and a Christian injunction not to spend the 
 money foolishly. Peleg, by the way — we may as well mention 
 it — heeded her advice to the extent of being found that same 
 night in a state of dreamy intoxication, having taken up lodg- 
 ings with his head on an elderly sow, who, grunting dismally, 
 made a sort of refrain to Peleg's " snore," which was not of the 
 most harmonious character. 
 
 Much fuss and fidgetting over, the ladies were at last ready. 
 Mrs. Rhuty Tute laughed at Mrs. Doughkins, and vice vcrsd. 
 Mrs. Khuty Tute said, with a pain in her side, that Mrs. 
 Doughkins looked like a "saucy dumplin;" and Mrs. Doughkins 
 could not do better than tell Mrs. Rhuty Tute that she looked 
 like a " saucy dumplin " too. Mrs. Doughkins could not walk, 
 
194 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 "but waddled somewhat after the fashion of an ancient duck, 
 when emerging from a favourite pond ; and Mrs. Rhuty Tute, 
 be it said to our horror, actually kicked up her heels, and threw 
 a ball of yarn on the floor for puss to play with. Down stairs 
 they went, tittering and shaking their heads, into the large, 
 dining-room, from which 'they could command a view of the 
 barn ; and they had scarcely pounced into a couple of high- 
 backed, crooked-bottomed, easy chairs, before in walked Jede- 
 diah, with a hoe upon his shoulder, whistling a bar and a-half 
 of " Yankee Doodle," just at that particular portion of the air 
 where the words infer that he (Yankee Doodle) " came to town 
 on a spotted pony." 
 
 Jedediah started. Were it a pair of fat fairies he was gazing 
 at ? They did not move, and he brandished his hoe with an 
 attitude of defiance. All at once Mrs. Rhuty Tute jumped 
 from her seat, which so alarmed Mrs. Doughkins that she 
 trembled from head to foot. 
 
 " Jerusalem Grinkums! is that yeou?" shrieked Jedediah 
 in one breath, his eyes starting almost out of their sockets, 
 while his beaver toppled over off of his head, " What in the 
 name of all that's superhuman now and for ever, till kingdom 
 come, and all the time henceforth and hereafter, have yeou been 
 and done?" 
 
 " We — we — we're B — Bl — Bloom — Bloomers ! " stuttered 
 Mrs. Doughkins, almost frightened out of her wits, and holding 
 on to the chair with both of her hands by way of support. 
 
 Mrs. Rhuty Tute smiled. 
 
 " You're what !" again shrieked Jedediah, running his fingers 
 through his carrotty hair, and giving his " bed ticks " a long 
 hitch — " What, what the Jehu is Blu-mers ? Look a-here, 
 Mrs. Rhuty-toot, you're a passal of fools — neow !" 
 
 " Mr. Dowkins ! " exclaimed Mrs. Rhuty Tute reprovingly, 
 " Beware, Mr. Dowkins, what you say to sensible persons, or 
 you may repent such conduct." 
 
JEDEDIAH DOUGHKINS 195 
 
 « Re — pent yourself — what do you mean by Blu — mers ! 
 Chaw me up for gun waddin 1 if I understand what this means 
 — neow!" replied Jedediah in a high state of excitement. 
 
 Mrs. Doughkins by this time slightly recovered herself and 
 stood up, which caused her respected spouse to advance a foot, 
 and a-half or two feet back. 
 
 " Consarn my skin if yeou don't look like a couple of lost 
 Turks ; du tell me, Betsy 'Melia, where on earth did you get 
 such riggin's out. May I be catasplasm'd in several places if I 
 ever saw the like since Deacon Miller's cousin, Ike Barebones, 
 told me the world was cummin' to an end when it didn't." 
 
 " Why, now I'll tell you, Mr. Dowkins, we're sensible 
 females, as you ought to know," said Mrs. Rhuty Tute, with 
 an affectation and earnestness that caused her friend to look 
 down at her plump feet (squeezed into small shoes) in astonish- 
 ment; "and as Jonah of Arch said when she was crowned 
 Queen of Spain, women of mind have a right to express them- 
 selves." 
 
 " Consarn your women of mind !" interrupted Jedediah. 
 
 " Hear me out, Mr. Dowkins ; it's not often I speak, and 
 when I do, I want to be heard !" continued the lady. 
 
 " Now, look a-here again, Mrs. Rhuty Boote " 
 
 " Rhuty Tute, if you please " 
 
 " "Well, Rhuty Toot, or Rhuty Brute, or anything yeou like 
 — that's a darn wilful mistake — yeour tongue runs faster than 
 a squirrel up a sycamore, or a bullet eout of a rifle. Hold me 
 under a pump, and sleuce me a-drippin' if I wouldn't cut my 
 throat with a biled carrot, and die an orphan, if my tongue 
 waggled like yourn — by Jehu!" 
 
 - Mr. Dowkins 1" screamed Mrs. Rhuty Tute, growing very 
 red in the face, and seeming somewhat strange and uncomforta- 
 ble in the costumes — " Mr. Dowkins, do you mean to expeach 
 my integrity ?" 
 
 " I don't care a toad's blessing what I peach or apple ; but I 
 
196 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 mean your tongue runs wus than aunt Sally Seraggles, and her's 
 runs so bad that they had to put a mustard plaster on her neck 
 to draw the words t'other way." 
 
 " Jediah, Jediah ! you're behavin' rude to company," chimed 
 in Mrs. Doughkins, flouncing about with an awkard gait. 
 
 " Yeou go and take off them Turkey things, and not make a 
 geoose of y emir self /" replied Jed., jerking his Jack of Dia- 
 monds waistcoat, and adjusting his beaver. " If Deacon Dun- 
 klehead, or any of his daughters, were to conrc in neow, they'd 
 think yeou'd gone stark mad, so they would." 
 
 " I tell you agin, Jeddy, I'm a Bloomer I" said Mrs. Dough- 
 kins. 
 
 " You're a squab, more like — why yeou look like a couple of 
 greased injuns on a spree, half men and half women — go and 
 take 'em off." 
 
 "We wont do it, Mr. Dowkins; we wont, just for your im- 
 perence !" said Mrs. Rhuty Tute. "Will we, dear ?" 
 
 " No, I guess we won't; we want to be Bloomers 1" coincided 
 Mrs. Doughkins. 
 
 "You won't, won't you?' bellowed Jed., throwing his hat 
 down with a flourish. ' ; Yeou say yeou won't ?" 
 
 Mrs. Rhuty Tute nodded with a spiteful leer. 
 
 " Well, now I want it understood, Mrs. Jcdediah Doughkins, 
 it's not often I get my Ebenezer riz, but may I be made into 
 hard cider and drank at 'lection day, if yeou don't go and take 
 off them vulgar-lookin' half trowsers, and that scimpy lookin' 
 frock, I'll go right off and dress myself in petticoats, and ride 
 straddle into town on the gray mare." 
 
 Mrs. Doughkins screamed. 
 
 " I tell yeou I'll do it," continued Jcdediah; "neow, you'd 
 better take 'em off. Will yeou take 'em off — speak quick, or I'll 
 have the gray mare saddled in less than a flash of greased 
 lightnin'." 
 
 Mrs. Doughkins was alarmed, and looked at Mrs. Rhuty 
 
JEDEDIAH DOUGHKINS. 197 
 
 Tute, who . seemed somewhat taken aback by this strange 
 menace. 
 
 " No, she won't !" exclaimed the latter lady. 
 
 " Yes, yes — I — I ." Mrs. Doughkins was about to say 
 
 she would, but her friend gave her such a thrilling look that she 
 did not finish the sentence. 
 
 " Very well ! Hey, Peleg, saddle up the mare," hooped Je- 
 dediah. i: Neow, Betsey 'Melia, where's your blue geown and 
 the Sunday fan ; I'll turn all the drawers inside out, wus than a 
 young earthquake;" and seizing the hoe he made a rush for the 
 stairs, and after him flew the "Bloomers," as fast as their re- 
 spective obesity would permit. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! he'll ruin my fans," screamed Mrs. Doughkins, 
 waddling up the stairs, and shouting at the top of her voice. 
 " And my blue gown, and my red shawl ; yes, yes, Jeddy ; I'll 
 take 'em off — I'll take 'em — indeed I will !" 
 
 Jcdediah, as good as his word, before the Bloomers reached 
 the dressing-room, had pulled out the best bureau drawer, and 
 commenced ransacking its contents. The linen and hosiery fell 
 in a shower on the floor. 
 
 " Oh, don't, Jeddy, don't; and I'll never be a Bloomer 
 agin' ;" imploringly screamed his wife, wiping the cold perspi- 
 ration off her face, and sinking at the foot of the bed. 
 
 11 You're sure you'll never put them flap-jacks on your legs 
 agin?" 
 
 " Never !" 
 
 " As true as yeour name's Betsy 'Melia Doughkins." 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Then I won't take yeour red shawl, and yeour blue gown, 
 nor the Sunday fan, and ride straddle into town on the gray 
 mare." 
 
 " No, no — no, don't," she blubbered. 
 
 " I won't." 
 
 And in less than half an hour, though Mrs. Rhuty Tute told 
 
198 
 
 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 her she was u an astoniskin' weak woman," Mrs. Doughkins had 
 shed the " costume," and resumed the good old skirts of every- 
 day life, much to the satisfaction of her husband, who gave her 
 a kiss, looked black at the visitor, stroked his frowsy beaver, aud 
 vowed that after all said and done, he was the " condarnest hap- 
 piest cretur alive, if people wouldn't pizcn his wife with new 
 notions." 
 
 It is almost needless to say, that Mrs. Jedediah DoughkiDS 
 has never since attempted a " Bloomer." 
 
199 
 
 FOURTH OF JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Reader mine, how are your nerves to-day ? In sound con- 
 dition, say you. Eh Men, you will perhaps consent to follow 
 us through a page or two of what we may, for the nonce, term 
 an explosive, noisy sort of literature. 
 
 Fourth of July in the United States ! It is the signal — the 
 " banner on the outward wall" for sin and shooting crackers, 
 pedantry and pinwheels, oranges and orations, sky-blue toilettes 
 and skyrockets. A day when patriotism pops and bursts about 
 like so many bottles of sillery — when little boys are decked in 
 their holiday-suits, with pleasure in their eyes and copper coins 
 in their pockets — when political parties give dinners, and em- 
 bryo orators pour out the waters of eloquence as freely as the 
 fountains in Trafalgar Square — when interesting young misses 
 and matronly mammas throw off restraint to indulge in the 
 pretty fires of portable pyrotechnics. 
 
 Fourth of July ! It is a day, in the United States, in a 
 manner inscribed to the Goddess of Gunpowder. iElius, in 
 the classic fable, dedicated one day in the week to burn incense 
 to the memory of Jupiter; and the patriotic, liberty-loving 
 citizens of the United States set aside this day of every year 
 to explode gunpowder, by way of commemoration of the Dec- 
 laration of Independence — the spirit of which document is still 
 cherished with characteristic national fervour. It has often 
 struck us as being an odd way of celebrating an event in the 
 annals of history by burning, whizzing, and streaming fireworks. 
 The whole country, from the borders ef Maine to the mouth of 
 
200 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 the Mississippi, is a scene of din and smoke, reminding us of 
 the murky clouds of Waterloo, or the tumult of some of the old 
 Grecian frays in the time of Xerxes and Darius — only the dan- 
 ger in the present case is not so imminent. Shops arc shut, 
 tradesmen suspend business, and even bankers and usurers seem 
 to agree that toil shall have a gala-day. The young throw care 
 to the canines, and the old cry " Nepenthe." The rich and poor 
 alike make merry. 
 
 The day is ushered in with ringing of bells and firing of 
 small-arms. Old pistols, that have rested peaceably in their 
 undisturbed neglect the whole year, are at this period hunted 
 up and pressed into service, llusty cannon, that time out of 
 mind have been deemed valueless, are overhauled, and, like 
 worthy time-worn veterans, again " thunder o'er the plain," 
 with the vigour of former days, proving that, though rusty and 
 disregarded, they have not lost their sh-oi^Ht of voice. From 
 various house-tops, just as the day is dawning, flashes of flame 
 may be seen momentarily breaking on the hazy light. Occa- 
 sionally a roguish boy, prompted by that indefinable love of 
 mischief peculiar to the masculine gender at an early age, will 
 be observed on the tiles as early as four in the morning, ex- 
 ploding squibs and " torpedoes," to the horror of the family, 
 who, not yet out of their beds, and being suddenly awakened 
 from their genial daybreak slumbers, are frightened out of their 
 senses, and wonder what can be the matter on the top of the 
 house. Perhaps the young rogue aforesaid has been industri- 
 triously a saving up his money" for three months, in order to 
 purchase the noisy toys, and has smuggled them in his bed- 
 room the day before, not sleeping a wink that night, in the joy- 
 ful anticipation of hearing them crack and fizz in the morning. 
 
 This is a day replete with hopes and fears, promises of 
 enjoyment, and feelings of pleasure to all classes of society. 
 Hasty breakfasts are in order, and then all is life and excite- 
 ment. The streets are full of both sexes, the most of whom 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 201 
 
 are young people, smartly dressed, and to all appearance out 
 for the day. A picturesqueness of thoroughfare not peculiar 
 to the panorama of American street-life may be seen. Soldiers 
 dressed in gay uniforms are hurrying to their armories, in all 
 the blaze of martial importance. Volunteer corps being nu- 
 merous, the Fourth of July is the universal parade-day, when 
 " Washington Greys," « National Guards," " State Fencibles," 
 " Union Blues," and a legion of companies, are to march 
 through the streets for the purposes of discipline and commem- 
 oration. Drums briskly clatter, and fifes scream in concert, 
 which, together with the ceaseless detonations of the fireworks, 
 may give the reader an idea of the confusion, excitement, bus- 
 tle and clamor that reigns around. 
 
 So many scenes of stirring novelty are everywhere transpiring, 
 that unless we contrive to speak of them in order, we shall get 
 sadly bewildered in striving to draw the various outlines of the 
 day's festivities. It is scarcely necessary to say that the Amer- 
 icans are devotedly patriotic, and their amor patriee amounts 
 to a passionateness peculiar perhaps to few nations. The 
 fourth of July, then, is hallowed with all possible enthusiasm — 
 that is to say, in a sly corner of every one's heart a sacred 
 spark gently reposes, which, if fanned by the breath of .opposi- 
 tion, would blaze with the fiercest vigor. They do not hold, 
 albeit, that their great National Holiday should be distinguished 
 by dull, sober quietude, or that any prescribed conventional 
 sanctity is required. 
 
 It would be entirely foreign to their temperament ; and so, 
 to give it eclat, it is created a brief era of relaxation, merri- 
 ment, and commemoration. As we have before intimated, 
 its celebration is universal (to be minute in inconsiderable 
 facts), except to the retailers of fireworks, hotel-keepers, and 
 public conveyancers, all of whom are making capital out of the 
 popular enthusiasm, something on the principle that hay is 
 made while the sun shines. Everybody is on the wing — the 
 
202 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 streets, roads, alleys and lanes are in a nutter of life, and it 
 would seem that the heart of the vast country was afflicted 
 with a spasmodic palpitation. The handwriting on the wall of 
 popular feeling is, i-iic et ubique, and the restless populace up- 
 hold the principle of the proverb with Figaro-like earnestness. 
 
 Perhaps the most distinguishable feature of the day is the 
 reading of the u Declaration of Independence," the duty of 
 which, if done in public, devolves on some recognized oratory 
 who, by general request, is appointed to the important office. 
 A large common or park is usually selected, whore a temporary 
 rostrum is erected, around which thousands of good citizens 
 cluster, in the pride of republican presence, to listen to tho 
 simple yet eloquently powerful language of a document signed 
 by fifty-six pure-minded, unfeignedly honest patriots, who stood 
 prepared to sacrifice their all on the shrine of Freedom, and of 
 whose memory the Genius of Liberty has reared a glorious 
 monument, for the respect and admiration of the world. 
 
 It may be that, after the reading, speeches arc made by the 
 leading politicians of the district, irrespective of party, who on 
 this occasion bury their prejudices and extend the right hand 
 of fellowship on the broad platform of universal freedom. 
 These remarks not only apply to the large cities and towns, but 
 also to minor villages, although there arc exceptions, as. ia 
 limitcdly-populated places, cases may occur where no one with 
 sufficient pretensions to oratory can be found to undertake 
 the task. It requires a little nerve, and a gift of the os rotun- 
 dum, as Hazlitt would write it ; so that the honor generally 
 falls to the village lawyer, or perhaps his clerk, if he be ambi- 
 tious and self-possessed ; or, if both of these swerve, the parson 
 kindly consents, and, as a dernier rcssort, the doctor has been 
 known to come forward at the last moment, when all doctors 
 should come in, i. e., at the death, and look his patient in the face 
 in a new character. 
 
 Cases are frequent where the declaration is read after family 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 203 
 
 prayer in the morning, by either the head of the family or one 
 of the sons that may be getting on towards manhood. It will 
 be clearly inferred that the Americans do not in anywise neg- 
 lect the decrees of their - forefathers. , The injunction of the 
 venerable patriot, John Adams, is stamped on the eternal 
 memory of the nation, and the written response seems — Esto 
 perjjetua. The memories of those fine " old Yankee gentlemen" 
 are still fresh, and every name enrolled upon that Declaration 
 of Independence is deeply cherished by their kinsmen. Each 
 separate autograph, from the bold flourish of John Hancock, 
 the chairman, to the palsied tracery of Stephen Hopkins, is 
 looked upon again and again with the same honest glow of 
 enthusiasm, the same feelings of devoted gratitude. There they 
 are, indelibly written on every heart in lines of gold : those 
 fifty-six names, and brave and pure-hearted creatures too, de- 
 serving all of their apotheosis. 
 
 Now for another page of the book of this holiday. 
 
 Dinners and Feastings. We may probably be asked what 
 affinity exists between bills of fare and patriotism ? We will 
 reply : the same that so intimately and inseparably allies apple 
 sauce and Michaelmas, turkeys and New- Year's Day, hot-cross 
 buns and Good Friday, mince-pies and Christmas. What are 
 those lines from Pope ? — 
 
 •' The turnpike road to people's hearts, I find, 
 Lies through their throat, or I mistake mankind." 
 
 In all of the large cities — take, for example, New-York, as a 
 great metropolis second only to London in point of magnitude 
 and interest — the various political sections and societies make a 
 great point of this day in the celebration of a grand dinner. It 
 is the old gentlemen and young orators that are in the lavender 
 of happiness here. The first from a gastronomic inclination ; 
 the latter because of the opportunity afforded them to launch 
 out on the exhaustless theme of patriotism, which is never so 
 
204 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 welcome as after that peculiarly indifferent, listless satisfaction 
 following the enjoyment of a good dinner. 
 
 The young Fourth-of- July orator is a class of himself. He 
 awaits with a resignation amounting to positive fortitude the 
 annual coming of the day. He reads the speeches of Washing- 
 ton, Jefferson, Adams, and Monroe, and marks the good passages 
 — those " bits that will tell," and make the wine goblets clatter 
 and the napkins quiver under the breasts of rubicund-visaged 
 old gentlemen. He selects strong words and fiery expressions 
 to weave into his declamations; also one or two classical anec- 
 dotes, in order to assume an air of learning. When the day 
 comes, what high feather he is in, to be sure ! The first thing 
 he looks at in the morning is his notes, which are to remind 
 him of several anecdotes of Washington, and a tribute to the 
 memory of the old veterans of the Revolution. He is certain 
 to speak of "Washington as the great and good man of his times. 
 As Achilles, the son of Peleus and Thetis, was the bravest of 
 the Greeks in the Trojan war, so George Washington was the 
 greatest chieftain of modern times. He will perhaps relate the 
 anecdote of the Roman warrior that bit off the head of the 
 woodpecker because the soothsayer said that if the bird lived his 
 house would flourish and Rome decay. This he will instance 
 as a specimen of by-gone single-heartedness, and only such as 
 existed in the days of Claudius in Rome, and General "Wash- 
 ington in America. He is safe to tell his hearers that if there 
 were a war to-morrow, he would feel a pride — a glorious (a pet 
 expression) pride in taking up arms in support of his country. 
 Of course he would, and so would everybody present, if the case 
 demanded it. This last appeal will gain for him a rattle of the 
 glasses, and perhaps some bravos, from the maudlins at the end 
 of the table, who have fallen back in their chairs. What between 
 the wine, the provender, and the patriotism, the Fourth-of- July 
 orator always gets red in the face when he speaks, as if the 
 crimson of his subject, by some unaccountable influence, in- 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 205 
 
 sinuated itself into his system. What we call the crimson of 
 the subject is the never-failing recital of the victories of Bunk- 
 er's Hill, Yorktown, and Trenton — all of which fields present 
 to the enthusiastic mind stirring scenes of blood and carnage. 
 The Fourth-of- July orator does not drink water between his 
 rests and pauses, He disdains any fluid short of champagne 
 and brandy, which seem to invest, not only himself, but his 
 subject, with additional spirit. Your temperance cold-water 
 orators are apathetic patriots at a dinner-table, being too definite 
 and punctilious to stir up the mass. Sentiments red-hot from 
 the furnace of the heart, and words as strong as Sampson's 
 locks, are in demand. Milk and amiability are good things in 
 their way, but to-day aqua vitce and enthusiasm suit the popular 
 system. All the time this mental fire is going on inside, the 
 fireworks and guns are blazing away incessantly without ; squibs 
 sometimes fall at the orator's feet, and if, like Charles the 
 Twelfth, he does not move at the burst, he is unanimously voted 
 as a fearless champion of the Rights of Liberty ! Viva ! 
 
 All public dinners are discussed with more or less fuss and 
 bustle ; but a Fourth-of- July dinner seems to surpass all others 
 in these respects. Some stages of the proceedings of what is 
 called by the printers in England a " way-goose " are tolerably 
 extravagant ; but these are eclipsed by far. The waiters seem 
 more vivacious, and the guests more uproariously enthusiastic 
 than on similar occasions. How the little men — those of brief 
 duck-legged architecture — do appear at these festivals ! We 
 could almost suspect them, if we were to judge by seeing them 
 eat, of having sold their birthrights, like Esau, for a beefsteak. 
 Talk to them of walking in military processions. Fie ! They 
 repudiate labour in whatever shape, preferring to glorify the 
 Day of Independence by a grand demolition of turkey, with 
 copious washes of golden sherry or libations of sparkling 
 moselle. 
 
 Everybody that is somebody, and even those who are to a 
 
206 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 certain extent considered nobody, for at least a fortnight before 
 the " Fourth," have pockets full of tickets to sell, for this or 
 that grand dinner. It is dangerous to walk in a hurry along a 
 principal thoroughfare, as every friend you meet is sure to stop 
 you, in the hope that^ " you'll just purchase a ticket for the 
 " Greys' " dinner — it will be such a beautiful affair ;" or " your 
 appearance would add so much to the fete of the Sons of Tem- 
 perance, to be given at the Gardens.'' It may be that 
 
 you have promised your family to dine at home on the " Fourth," 
 and consequently object to being present at any other dinner 
 saving your own ; but the friend is importunate. He was never 
 known to take " no " for an answer ; and in order to disentangle 
 yourself from his meshes, you are in the end compelled to take 
 a ticket, and march off with it in your waistcoat pocket, with 
 the idea that dinners are a bore when they are so unceremo- 
 niously thrust upon you. 
 
 We have said that these dinners are got up on a scale of 
 magnificence. Extravagance exerts her golden wand without 
 limitation here ; but the good denizens deem it patriotic, occur- 
 ring only u once a year," and wink at the prodigality. Old 
 misers, as close-fisted as ghouls, relax their avarice to-day, and 
 give their souls and bodies a respite from the iron drudgery of 
 life. The milk and honey of yore flowed not freer than do the 
 dainties of life. The expense of every object conducive to 
 pleasure, from a squib to a dinner party, is most unequivocally 
 and systematically damned, as surely as he in the play would 
 have been had he dared to cry — li Hold, enough !" 
 
 But we must get on with the dinuer. 
 
 After the cloth has been removed, the speeches and toasts 
 commence. A band is in attendance, and a regular series of 
 toasts, similar to the following, are given and drunk with en- 
 thusiasm : — 
 
 The Day we celebrate — may it ever be remembered with gratitude 
 and patriotism. Air — " Yankee Doodle." 
 
FOURTH OP JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 207 
 
 Our country always right ; but right or wrong, our country still. 
 Air — " Hail Columbia." 
 
 The Union. Air — " Star-spangled banner." 
 
 The President of the United States — His noblest prerogative a 
 faithful execution of the laws. Air — " President's March." — (Three 
 cheers and a tiger.) 
 
 The Army and Navy — their brilliant achievements proclaim their 
 glory. Air — " March to the Battle Field." 
 
 The memory of General George Washington — the first in war, the 
 first in peace, and the first in the hearts of his countrymen. — 
 (Drank in silence.) 
 
 The Constitution — the palladium of our political and religious 
 liberties ; upon a faithful adherence and strict construction depends 
 the perpetuity of the American Republic. Air — " Jefferson's 
 March." 
 
 State Rights, the surest guarantee against sectional encroach- 
 ments. Air — " Calhoun's March." 
 
 The Heroes of the Revolution — May their posterity emulate their 
 noble example. Air — " Auld Lang Syne." 
 
 The Independent Press — the faithful guardians of the people's 
 rights. Air — " Franklin's March." 
 
 The Centrifugal Force of the Constitution — May it link these con- 
 federated States into the unrelaxing embrace with which the earth 
 clasps the sea. 
 
 Education — the fountain from which a nation receives power and 
 prosperity. 
 
 Woman — Heaven's choicest gift — her true value cannot be esti- 
 mated. Air — :: Green grow the rashes, !" 
 
 The last is never forgotten, which is but a commentary on 
 the deference exercised towards the sex in the United States. 
 
 We will now say a word about the military pageants. 
 
 This is also a very great day for the military, which, numer- 
 ous as it is, appears in all its strength. In order to give the 
 reader a clearer idea of the general muster, we will take for ex- 
 ample the City of New- York. The Commander-in-Chief of the 
 volunteer forces issues an order for general parade, which is well 
 
208 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 responded to. The line is formed very frequently of ten thou* 
 Band soldiers, which being comprised of various companies, in 
 different habiliments, the effect is picturesque and imposing. A 
 route of march is selected through the largest and most import- 
 ant streets, and gaily the bright lines make their way through 
 crowds of spectators, with dogs barking, handkerchiefs waving, 
 powder cracking, boys shouting, the populace cheering, and the 
 polished bayonets of the soldiers glittering like gleams of flame 
 in the rich sunlight. It is a cheering solace to the soldiers while 
 marching (the reader bearing in mind that it is a hot day, with 
 Fahrenheit perhaps at 96 deg., and the perspiration starting from 
 every pore) to know that bright eyes are beaming on them from 
 every window. How the cambric flutters in the breeze as it is 
 held by white and jewelled hands ! The soldier glances a 
 and meets perhaps the gaze of one who is dear to him — she has 
 promised him that she will be at a certain station to sec him pass 
 in his regimentals— he re turns the approving smile, and marches 
 on with a heart lighter than the lounging townsman, who only 
 lolls at his window, on a damask couch, to witness the great 
 parade "drag its slow length along." It would seem rather a 
 labour than a pleasure to walk uninterruptedly three or four 
 hours in the hot sun, dressed in thick garments ; but it is the 
 perpetuation of an old custom, and the volunteers nobly sacrifice 
 not a little comfort to conform with it. 
 
 July is an intensely warm month in the States, and by some 
 weather-freak, the fourth, of all days, is the very fiercest. Shirt- 
 collars, after ten o'clock in the morning, do not pretend to stand, 
 but fall over, bc-drenched like welted mullein-tops. By the 
 time the soldiers are dispersed, they look half-cooked, and per- 
 haps their gay uniform is dotted with small incisions made by the 
 banging of the fire-crackers over which they have unconsciously 
 passed. Yonder is a group of the " State Fencibles," in scarlet 
 coats and blue breeches. They have come on from the City of 
 Philadelphia, by invitation of the Brooklyn Continentals, to par* 
 
FOURTH OF JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 209 
 
 ticipate in the festivities of New- York. We will draw near 
 them, and hear what they are saying. 
 
 " "Well, Josh, how do you feel ?" says one of the group, ad- 
 dressing a short, thick-set man, with a very red countenance, 
 over which the little drops of water are coursing playfully, and 
 pushing each other off at the end of his chin, " I'm pretty nearly 
 used up myself." 
 
 " Feel,"' replies the short man, applying his handkerchief to 
 his face, "just as if I'd been six weeks in an oven eating hot 
 coals. Hang me ! if I think the general should order out the 
 division when it's so terrific. My countenance ran like Niagara 
 Falls while I was in the lines. 1*11 lay a dollar you could track 
 me like a watering-pot all along Broadway !" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" laugh the soldiers in noisy concert. 
 
 " Phew, isn't it hot?" remarks another of the group, remov- 
 ing his hat, and taking a long, deep breath. " I've a proposi- 
 tion : suppose we go over to the Astor House and take a sherry 
 cobbler all round. It'll do us good ; and then we will get ready 
 for dinner. What do you say, boys ?" 
 
 " I wonder where Colonel Page is," remarks a stout man; 
 # he'll dine with some of the politicians, and make a speech. 
 The colonel is a long-winded little fellow, and never gives up the 
 ship for trifles." 
 
 " Not he !" chimes in a fourth red-coat. And accordingly, 
 the group take the pavement in little squads, with the deter- 
 mination of refreshing themselves at the Astor House. We 
 will not see them as far as the dinner-table, for we can rest as- 
 sured that they are booked for a plate and napkin in good 
 quarters. Now that the parade is over, uniforms dot the 
 streams of pedestrians every way the eye turns, but they look 
 figged and weary under the scorching sun. Some hasten to 
 divest themselves of their heavy regimentals; others content 
 themselves with a simple rest, and then hie to one of the grand 
 dinners we have spoken of. Away they go, each bent on a dif- 
 
210 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 ferent destination, but all in the pursuit of happiness. By night- 
 fall, the scarlet is scarce, it having been cast aside for the more 
 sober garb of citizenship. The sabres, sashes, and epaulettes I 
 are carefully hung up in great closets, while formidable guns and 
 inhospitable bayonets repose harmlessly in their cases, uncon- 
 scious of the admiration they have elicited from the wondering 1 
 
 gaze. 
 
 « • • • # 
 
 The sun has gone down in the heavens, and left a track of 
 gold and purple shooting its soft feathery rays of light over 
 the drifting clouds. The dim etherial twilight now steals in 
 with its edge of gray, confusing the vision and robbing the light 
 of that intangible silver which lends such beauty to the day- 
 god's reign. 
 
 What was that cluster of stars that fell with a sudden hiss 
 into the blue waters of the bay ? A sky-rocket ? True — it is 
 time for the fireworks to commence ; and now we shall have the 
 really brilliant phase of the festivities of this day of jubilee. 
 Bang ! bang ! bang ! Hear the incessant reports of the guns in 
 the distance, each one gleaming with its jet of flame. Hark j 
 A cannon, far, far out on the river, has sent its booming messen- 
 ger to wake the echoes along the banks of the Hudson. Turn 
 an car to the city, and the noise is terrific. Glance along the 
 vista ; how the little shooting-crackers sparkle and coruscate, as 
 if the stars had condescended to come upon earth, and have a 
 regular flare up, just for the fun of the thing. We must keep a 
 bright look out for them. 
 
 Whiz go the rockets, cleavingly into the air with many a snap, 
 crack, and whir ! Some shower silver stars, others red — as if a 
 cherubim had thrown away a handful of rubies — perhaps green, 
 orange, and blue. How magnificent the spectacle ! High and 
 loftily it mounts, like the impatient bolt of a war-horse ; grad- 
 ually the sound diminishes ; we hear a gentle report, like a pis- 
 tol discharged high in the air, and then the scattered lights 
 
• FOURTH OF JULY IN THE UNITED STATES. 211 
 
 dance on the bosom of the darkness with fairy-like brilliancy. 
 Now they flicker and run in grotesque circles ; all expire save 
 one, which seems coquetting with the air currents — ah ! its turn 
 has come ; like a bright hope quickly crushed, it has fled, and 
 all again is dark and solemn above. 
 
 Once more the air is stirred by drifting flakes of emerald fire, 
 that, illumining the space around, reveal tens of thousands of 
 spectators collected with upturned eyes, gazing at the pyrotechnic 
 wonders. Up bound the serpents — orange and brazen. How 
 they twizzle and fizzle with their bright curves in the soft night 
 air ! Then the Roman candles pop out the little red balls of 
 fire, suggesting to the mind an endless visitation of electrical 
 sugar -plums. The wheels flash and dart forth their spiral 
 threads of light — every revolution raining a myriad of golden 
 flecks, that fall like Jupiter's artificial shower on the couch of 
 Dange. Then there are larger pieces of fireworks — such, for 
 example, as the Temple of Liberty, which, with its columns of 
 lurid flame, wreaths of metallic brightness, and the name of 
 WASHING-TON, in silver lights, quivering through the lucid 
 arches, form a scene of dazzling beauty, momentarily enchaining 
 and bewildering the gaze. 
 
 This grand display is the omega of the day's expenditure of 
 gunpowder. The boys have singed their finger-ends finely all 
 day long in exploding square, red-covered packs of Chinese 
 shooting-crackers, the queer characters on which, we confess, we 
 were never able to decipher, being as mysterious to our compre- 
 hension as that ornamental work one sometimes observes on 
 Welsh smock-frocks, the peculiar twist of which we find it 
 impossible to define. The city smells at night as if it had under- 
 gone a fierce bombardment, what between the fumes of the sul- 
 phur and the lingering odour of the pistol-shots. On every 
 side a wad may be seen smoking, or a shred of tow burning with 
 a dense smoke. The usually red pavements are charred and 
 blackened by the blasts of powder, and even the sides of the 
 
212 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 houses seem more gloomy than usual. Till past midnight the 
 noise and din are continued. "Whichever way the eye turns, we 
 care not where the gazer may stand, a coruscating gleam flashes 
 on his view, either high in the air, or just darts like a will-o'- 
 the-wisp around the peaks of the steeples in the distance. 
 
 The morning papers abound with accounts of accidents the 
 next morning ; some poor unfortunate having lost an eye or an 
 arm by the premature explosion of the guns or rockets. It 
 must be expected that where so much danger is present all can- 
 not escape unharmed ; and our only wonder is. that the celebra- 
 tion of the day is not attended with more disastrous results than 
 usually occur. 
 
 By the dawn of the fifth, the last rocket has mounted to the 
 clouds, and a farewell squib frets itself into atoms on the ground 
 beneath. The patriots by this time have laid aside pistols for 
 pillows — the little boys have done following the soldiers, and 
 are enjoying sunny dreams of candy and fireworks — the orator 
 has blended his harangue with a snooze ; and so we leave the 
 Fourth of July commemorators all alone in their respective 
 glories. 
 
213 
 
 SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 
 
 O never go to sea, 
 Or over you'll be keeling, 
 
 'Tis such a very extra- 
 Ordinary feeling!— Tony Lumpkin 
 
 We often hear people boast of having been at sea, and sit and 
 chat by the hour of the pleasant times they had on what they 
 are pleased to call the "laughing waves;" but for our part we 
 must confess that we never thought tumbling about the damp 
 decks of an old vessel much of a laughing matter. 
 
 Dear reader, in the course of your natural existence have you 
 ever ventured out of sight of land ? Perhaps you have run over 
 from Dover to the marine City of Boulogne, and had a toss on 
 that frightful of all waters, the British Channel ; or it may be 
 that you have luxuriated at Bamsgate, and gazed with an eye 
 of curiosity at the obelisk erected to commemorate the landing 
 of George the Fourth, or smiled as you thought of the pleasant 
 fiction connected with the architectural wonder, called " Jacob's 
 Ladder." Or, now we think again, it may be that once upon a 
 time, during the season at Brighton, you took it into your head 
 to steam it over to Dieppe — that ugly old fishing town on the 
 coast of France — which the author of the " Memories Chrono- 
 logiques" would have us believe was founded by Charlemagne) 
 and pointedly honoured at various periods by the visits of the 
 Emperor Napoleon. How do we know that you have not been 
 to each of the Cinque ports, for the matter of that, by way of a 
 pleasure trip, just long enough to feel a slight mat cle mer ? 
 
214 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 All quite probable, to be sure. For our own part, we nave 
 been to sea several times, and are fully cognizant of the dreary 
 sensations it produces. The Bay of Biscay tries one dreadfully 
 — the English Channel is voted unanimously atrocious — and 
 the Atlantic Ocean, at certain periods, may with safety be called 
 unpleasant, to employ the mildest term that this moment occurs 
 to us. 
 
 The nauseous prostration of sea-sickness no pen can "well" 
 describe. Imagine a torch-light procession of political cele- 
 brators in the cerebellum, with an Irish wake in the cerebrum, 
 and the entire possession of your abdominal precincts by an in- 
 termittent and deadly languor, and perhaps we convey a " faint" 
 idea of the feeling. Bnt we do not design to give our friends 
 the dumps by relating the miseries of this illness, but rather to 
 communicate a few little adventures we experienced on our first 
 voyage across the Atlantic some year or two ago. 
 
 We left New-York on a bright beautiful day in September, 
 in a first-class liner, bound for Liverpool, and our heart beat at 
 the glorious prospect of " going to sea I" The idea was new to 
 us then, for we knew nothing of its plagues and perils. There 
 was something so romantic in the mere consideration, that we 
 did not '-think ahead," as the skipper expressed it ; nor did we 
 care to nip in the bud the pretty posies of imagination that our 
 vivid fane}' had created. "When we had been out a day or two. 
 however, these flowers began to fade away very fast. We saw 
 nothing but sky and water — 
 
 '• The blue above and the blue below," 
 
 and everything began to appear sort of upside-downy. The day 
 of embarkation our memory was haunted by innumerable frag- 
 ments of maritime poetry. We stood upon the deck, and look- 
 ing out on the waters, with our arms folded, and a dramatic 
 curve of the lip, thought — 
 
 " What a noble sight is the calm blue sea, 
 When the monarch of day goes down." 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 215 
 
 Then we would stroll around the cabin, and peep into -the state- 
 rooms, or chat with the man at the wheel, and presently more 
 poetry would occur to us. The great expanse of waters was 
 sublime without question — 
 
 Without a mark,. without a bound, 
 
 It runneth the earth's wide regions round." 
 
 ! yes, the very thought was prodigious. By-and-bye we would 
 grow confidentially vocal, and — 
 
 " A home on the rolling deep," 
 
 was suggested by this " life on the ocean wave." 
 
 The second day it was dull and dreary — not a beam of sun- 
 light fell upon the dark mass of waters, and somehow or the 
 other, our poetical feelings had all vanished. After breakfast 
 we felt heavy and sullen, and, coming on deck, we like to have 
 broke our nose by bumping against the capstan, and still further 
 discomfited the equilibrium of our nerves by tumbling success- 
 ively over three coils of filthy wet rope. Not a shadow of a 
 stanza obtruded itself on our disturbed mentals ; sentiment had 
 given way to sickness ; and long before it was time to dress for 
 dinner, we were reluctantly compelled to seek the confines of 
 our state-room, and undergo a dismal perturbation of bile that 
 almost inevitably falls to the lot of inexperienced landsmen. 
 
 Some people love lingo, and such may go to sea. AYe got 
 sick of nautical phrases, and vainly endeavored to escape the 
 torture of the first-mate, who was perpetually commanding the 
 sailors to " let go the main-topgallant haulyards," or " double- reef 
 the mizen-topsail," or " luff half a point (pint, he pronounced 
 it). Then the second mate, during his watch, appeared to think 
 of nothing on earth but some outrageous expression in which to 
 indulge his authority. His favourites appeared to be — " Clue 
 up the main-royal," " Set the fore-topmast studding-sail," (pro- 
 nounced " stensil." How the sailors clip their words !) " Brace 
 by the yard ;" and there was no end to one expression that we 
 
216 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 have heard so frequently in nautical pieces on the stage, always 
 shouted by the sailor of the play — a bluff, honest fellow, very 
 tall, who chews pigtail, and talks a great deal to a lot of dirty- 
 looking men, whom he is sure to call " lubbers." We mean 
 that elegant sentence, " Belay, there !" If a sailor touched a 
 rope, the odious term was sure to ring from one side of the ves- 
 sel to the other, so that we grew weary of hearing it. There 
 was a great deal more said about " spanker-sheets," ' ; weather- 
 braces," and once in a great while, one of the tars w<>uld retjiiest 
 " our timbers to be shivered, " ; which request we are happy to 
 record nobody took the slightest notion of, or possibly we might 
 have gone to the bottom. 
 
 There was one grand relief to the tedium of our passage in 
 the shape, or more properly " shapes" of several decided char- 
 acters among the passengers. We confess a love of waggery, 
 and although we will not '-lose our friend to have our jest,'' 
 yet we will go a long distance, and over a very jagged road, to 
 witness the caprices of c< Father Fun.'' We had almost seventy 
 steerage passengers on board returning to the land of their 
 birth, and their place of abiding was anything but Elysian, the 
 steerage being a decided cross between a stable and a respectable 
 pig-sty. There was one corpulent old man among these, a 
 faithful portrait of * v Bacchus.'' as he i^ represented in the picto- 
 rial mythology. Everything was complete — the white beard, jolly 
 red nose, vacant leer, and so on ; and to carry out the resem- 
 blance, as it were, he constantly sat astride a cask of water on 
 the main deck, selecting it probably in preference to the softest 
 plank he could pick out for his comfort. But it was the cabin 
 that afforded the fun. One of the passengers, a very tall, slim, 
 sour-tempered personage, who wore spectacles and a speckled 
 cravat, had taken the journey with the view of improving his 
 health, and in the course of a casual conversation with him, we 
 discovered that he had a whimsical desire to grow fat. Although 
 he was a distant, ill-grained man in his manners, we found that 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 217 
 
 this feeling amounted to little short of a monomania. "We met 
 him generally after dinner on deck, and one day proffered him a 
 cigar. 
 
 " Thank you, no," said he decliningly. " I fear smoking pro- 
 duces emaciation." 
 
 " There seems to be a diversity of opinion on that subject," 
 we remarked. " The proselytes of Walter Raleigh say nay, 
 while some of Graham's madmen run out against the 'weed' 
 fearfully." 
 
 He attempted a smile. 
 
 " Come, you'd better try one. It's a luxuriant Havana — an 
 unexceptionable brand," pressed we. 
 
 " No, thank you," he concluded, after a moment's hesitation. 
 " I fear the results, and already I am ghastly slender." 
 
 Our captain at dinner one day remarked, that soup produced 
 flesh. The lean man heard him ; his eyes sparkled for a mo- 
 ment, and for weeks after he eat little but broth. Frequently 
 would we hear him suborn the steward to make him soup in the 
 evening, and as often observed that worthy functionary of the 
 vessel slyly conveying to the state-room of the patient a huge 
 bowl of some wishy-washy preparation, reeking with pepper, 
 and sending up its curls of transparent smoke among the beam 
 bits. 
 
 There was a great scarcity of books on board, and nobody 
 appeared to be supplied but our meagre friend, who had a small 
 library of entertaining novels, which he bluntly and uncourte- 
 (ffusly refused to lend under any circumstances. Everybody run 
 out of reading matter, having consumed their stock of books, 
 newspapers, advertisements and everything printed ; and, to 
 make it more provoking, this man would sit about the cabin 
 with a pile of tempting, delicious-looking tomes by his side, 
 upon the covers of which we were " bound" only to gratify our 
 latent curiosity, feeding on their contents only in imagination. 
 (It is an astonishing fact that one always feels most disposed to 
 
218 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 read when books are scarce.) These hooks finally got to be 
 positive eyesores, when one of the passengers, a young gentleman, 
 laid a wager with us, that we would not be able to borrow 
 " Macaulay's England" from him, and he would give us three 
 days to do it in. We accepted the wager — a bottle of " Lon- 
 don Dock" — and set about our task. All at once we were the 
 constant companion of the lean man, and every day we raked 
 up all the anecdotes we remember ever to have heard wherewith 
 to amuse him. Sometimes we extracted a laugh, sometimes 
 only a smile ; but it was certain that we were getting into what 
 folks would call his good graces. Finally, we said to him one 
 day, as if it were by the merest accident, " Gracious me ! how 
 vou're picking up in flesh." 
 
 " Do you think so ?" he returned. " Well, I'm not able to see 
 it myself." 
 
 " I'm sure you are ; and I would not be surprised if this 
 voyage were to make you absolutely fat." 
 
 This was a clincher. The slim man from that moment was 
 our friend. He entirely altered the tone of his manner towards 
 us, becoming in a degree confidential and communicative beyond 
 conception. 
 
 The next day, in the course of conversation, we again referred 
 to the improved state of his body ; and, by way of conclusion, 
 thought that if he went on improving so rapidly he would 
 acquire a plumpness as surprising as even Daniel Lambert him- 
 self. 
 
 He laughed, actually gave vent to a series of self-satisfied 
 chuckles, and before we parted he interrogated us on the state 
 of our literary stock. 
 
 " Well," said we carelessly, <; the fact is, books are rather 
 scarce, and if you can spare it, I should like to borrow ' Macau- 
 lay's England.' " 
 
 " Spare it ! with pleasure ; anything else I have is at your 
 service :" and immediately he produced what we desired. We 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 219 
 
 hurried to our friend with whom we had the wager. He gazed 
 upon the volume with an eye of distrust, thinking we had pos- 
 sibly, by some power of hocus-pocus, possessed ourselves of a 
 duplicate copy of the same work. But no, we had won, and 
 fairly, and the " London Dock" was drunk in a scries of liba- 
 tions, much to the enjoyment of the passengers. All of those 
 who were fond of reading took the hint, and immediately dis- 
 covered with us, that the lean man had got suddenly fleshy. The 
 consequence was, in less than a week his books were pretty 
 thoroughly distributed, and we all had as much as we could do 
 in the way of wading through light literature. 
 
 There was an old lady-dowager on board — one who fancied 
 she belonged to the creme cle la crime of society, as Mrs. Trol- 
 lope would say — nervous, talkative, and distressingly officious. 
 Nothing was afloat but she had a finger in the pastry. You 
 could not breathe but she knew it; and a young man, her 
 nephew, who accompanied her, was an edition, in " boots and 
 beaver," of his garrulous relative. They had been rambling 
 over America in search of novelty, to dispel ennui, to use the 
 language of the dowager herself. The nephew was one of the 
 11 nice young man" species, between that and a man-milliner, 
 with a little essence cle Patchouli/ to make him odoriferous. He 
 wore his hair combed sleekly down on his cheeks, and his nose 
 seemed obstinately determined to crook at the end, something 
 like a parrot's beak, or the head of a shepherd's staff. His 
 complexion seemed to us a dingy pink, about the colour of what 
 ballet-girls call " fleshings," which are worn so much in fairy 
 spectacles, when the wearer appears as a nymph, or a naiad, or 
 some other gauze-petticoated immortal. But for all this, the 
 youth thought himself "handsome," and his aunt called him 
 " purty" — what an abominable word — when speaking of him 
 behind his back, at least a score of times a-day. Once per diem 
 he would contrive to fancy himself ill ; which, happening just 
 about ten minutes before dinner, was sure to call forth a world 
 
 
220 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 of maudlin sympathy from the old dowager. If there is any- 
 thing provoking it is talking of constitutional infirmities over 
 plates. Dinner is no time to discuss physics. Light repartee, 
 or witticism, are far better concomitants of the meal. Ilelio- 
 gabulus, and that other old epicure — what is his name — Apicius 
 — who it is said committed suicide beean.se his fortune was re- 
 duced to five hundred thousand dollars, fearing that Mini would 
 not purchase him a choice of luxuries during the remainder of 
 his life — cither of those old fellows would have choked that old 
 dowager, as certain as fate, she was so full of the delicacy of her 
 nephew's health at meal-times. 
 
 Among the lady passengers was a very pretty, plump, French- 
 looking little blonde, named Marie. Her grace and winning 
 manners charmed everybody, and most especially this delicate 
 youth, who was eternally after her when he heard the rustle of 
 her robe in the cabin. It was very plain to be seen — no ghost 
 having any " earthly" reason to resume vitality to tell us — that 
 Marie did not care a pin about her adorer (for such lie called 
 himself) we believe), but rather tolerated his blandishments and 
 amative advances for her own amusement. Some time after his 
 presentation to Marie, we observed the young man every day 
 lying on his back in the sun in a very conspicuous place. We said 
 nothing, but could not divine what possessed the fellow to lay so 
 much on his back, the sun being hot enough to peel the skin off his 
 face. Still he did it, and still our wonder grew. It came out 
 in the end that little Marie, having told him playfully, and of 
 course in sheer irony, that he had a handsome profile, the con- 
 ceited lout was eternally on his back to show it to the best ad- 
 vantage. One of our companions chancing to be a tolerable 
 sketcher, he drew endless views of side-faces, of all kinds and 
 patterns, on every piece of baggage we could find that belonged 
 to the ninny. The discovery of these chalk portraits cured him 
 of his folly, and he never laid on his back again that voyage to 
 show his facial outlines. 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 221 
 
 Before we dismiss this gentleman, we have another incident 
 to tell our readers, just by the way. Off the banks of Newfound- 
 land, which we know by the misty vapour that constantly over- 
 hangs them like a white pall, we had a dead calm. We lay like 
 a huge bird motionless on the waters, and everybody was in 
 arms to fish. Some sought for hooks, others for lines, and a 
 few hunted up the bate in the shape of chunks of pale-looking 
 pork. Everybody felt piscatorial, even " Young Profile," for 
 he consented to leave pursuing Marie to indulge " on his own 
 hook" in another quarter. After considerable ado, he purchased 
 a tackle from one of the steerage-passengers, and prepared to 
 hook the finny fellows that gambol in the sea. Such a time as 
 he made of it to be sure. First, he was so alarmed lest a drop 
 of salt water should get on his hands, and he was on the point, 
 he said, of hiring one of the sailors to pull up his line when the 
 dolphins nibbled. We told him that was unpardonable, and, 
 after considerable expostulation, he made up his mind to " go 
 into things about right;" tha' is, use his hands like other white 
 men, and not be as particular of those useful appendages to the 
 body as if they were rose leaves or the wings of butterflies. 
 Soon lie rid himself of his coat, stripped up his sleeves, and 
 throwing out his line for deep-water fishing, placidly awaited the 
 signal from the bonetas, skipjacks, or albicores — the fish of these 
 parts — just as they should honour him with their attachment. 
 Seeing him so comfortably seated, one of the young men and 
 ourself could not resist the chance of having a joke. He had 
 then been fishing for an hour and a half without the slightest 
 success, and of course felt a little vexed at the luck. We drew 
 him aside from his line, which he made fast to the taffrail of 
 the vessel, and on some pretence detained him in the cabin for 
 a few moments, while our companion drew in his cord, and, stick- 
 ing the tail of a huge codfish on his hook, threw it back again 
 into the water. When he got back to his line, a young lady, 
 who was in the secret, and who was fishing just beside him, told 
 
222 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 him that she was sure she had seen his cord move in his ab- 
 sence. 
 
 " Do you think I've got a bite at last ?" said he, gaily, as he 
 toyed with the line. " It feels heavy, and resists the current. 
 I must be in luck." 
 
 We all drew near, and hand over hand ! and up came the 
 cord, dripping like a drowned serpent. It was no small task ; 
 and " Profile," as he groaned under the resistance of the wet 
 line, appeared willing to bet there was a prize — an agreeable 
 sur- u prize" — at t'other end. A few more groans, and up came 
 the hook, the codfish-tail faithfully dangling on it. As he knew 
 no more about the appearance of fish than a hippopotamus docs 
 of the use of the quadrant, he burst out in ecstacies. Every- 
 body kept a straight face, and looked with eager eyes. 
 
 "Bless me!" shouted he, "no wonder he pulled so hard. 
 See, I've got nothing but his tail ! He is partly gone ; but half 
 a loaf is better than none !" And his pulling the line so hard 
 as to sever the body of' a i\>}\ from the tail was his great boast 
 His old aunt petted him like a child for the exploit ; and both 
 never knew any better, but were firmly under the impression 
 that the fish broke in half from the effect of his pulling so hard. 
 
 We have said before that our old dowager travelling compa- 
 nion was annoyiugly officious. She was, indeed, and a laugh- 
 able illustration of her ruling propensity happened off the 
 " Banks." The lean man, or flesh-fancier — just as the reader 
 may choose to call him — had been industriously engaged in fish- 
 ing for four weary hours, without the slightest success. Wear- 
 ing a narrow-brimmed hat, his hatchet face was burned as red 
 as a vitalized " cake" of vermilion ; but still he fished on with 
 commendable perseverance, watching his line with admirable 
 steadiness. At length he was favoured, and caught a beautiful 
 young dolphin, which capered about the deck, and finally quieted 
 itself with becoming forbearance to die a cruel, and we might 
 say, if we wished to make a pun, in-" deck"-orous death. The 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 223 
 
 lean man was delighted, and immediately turned again towards 
 the water to ascertain whether there was " any more left of the 
 same sort," to use the words of an American itinerant. The 
 fish had not been out of the water more than a moment or so, 
 before along bustled the dowager to see what was going on, when 
 her sharp old optics fell upon the scaly captive. Stooping down, 
 she picked it up, and patting its plump sides for an instant, and 
 caressing its bleeding gills, said, " Poor little thing! it's a shame 
 it should die such a wicked death. I'll return it to its native 
 element." And, behold ! she threw it over into the water, and 
 then toddled down to her state-room with the internal convic- 
 tion that she had performed a high act of Christian charity. 
 Nothing was said ; and presently, the angler caught another. 
 He had fished quite six hours ; and his pair of dolphins would 
 make him an excellent fry. His mouth became a " Niagara 
 Falls" at the idea. Judge of his surprise and mortification 
 when he learned the fate of his first fish ! He almost shed tears. 
 "To think he should have sat nearly a half a day in the broiling 
 sun, and then the result of all his patient industry to be igno- 
 miniously snatched from him by a meddling old woman. It 
 was provoking, without doubt. As a consequence, he was cut 
 of his "fry" by getting into a dreadful "stew;" and dolphin 
 No. 2 was surreptitiously '-hooked" in the end by one of the 
 urchins of the steerage, to cut up for bait. Our lean friend 
 never again attempted to fish that journey ; and we verily believe 
 he used to haunt the dowager in her dreams, for she related at 
 the breakfast-table, one morning, that she had seen in her shop 
 a man with a dolphin's head standing by her bedside all night, 
 with a savage-looking knife in his hand, which lie protested he 
 was about to bury to the hilt in her matronly old heart. When 
 she awoke, and found it was all " the baseless fabric of a vision," 
 her joy, she declared, knew no bounds ; for she felt then she 
 was still a happy widow, " live and kicking," with a jointure of 
 £400 per annum. 
 
224 dashes of American iroion. 
 
 We were five days tempest-tossed, Such a time then among 
 the ladies, and the Lesbian nephew, we never saw before. The 
 dowager was frightened out of her wits ; and every plunge the 
 vessel made would excite her to the utterance of something 
 intensely pathetic. Our captain was a hale old fellow, bluff 
 and brave — good-natured in the main, but at times austere — 
 who snapped his fingers at a storm, and turned up his nose at a 
 hurricane. Even a white squall would not move him, we don't 
 care how sudden it made its appearance; and besides all tins, 
 he had somehow or the other fallen into, perhaps, what might 
 be called a very brusque habit of Baying just exactly what he 
 thought. The second day of the storm the sea ran fearfully 
 high, and a strong nor'-wester seemed to impart vitality to 
 every object in the cabins and state-rooms, All at once, tables 
 took it into their "heads' 1 to perform sundry queer antics; and 
 chairs, trunks, and other movables behaved very disreputably 
 indeed, reeling and pitching about as if they were diametrically 
 opposed to everything in the temperance way, .and had made 
 up their minds to have a jolly Spree, regardless of what was 
 right or proper. What heightened the effect of this illusion 
 was, all the furniture of the cabin was painted blue; and there 
 stood in the middle of the cabin a large rocking-chair — a sober, 
 venerable-looking specimen, too, which was tied fast to the 
 floor. It appeared to gaze sturdily on the scene of confusion, 
 without a single move, seeming a very " Father Matthew" of 
 furniture among the dizzy revellers. 
 
 The second day of the storm, the wind increased in strength, 
 and the waves lashed the vessel worse than ever truant urchin 
 caught it from '• iron dominie." People that had boasted of escap- 
 ing the sea-nausea were now pouring out their libations to Nep- 
 ture over the bulwarks, and making any quantity of wry faces 
 at the bitterness of their bile. It was raining dreadfulhv; and 
 the young man, whom we shall ever call " Profile," if we live n 
 thousand years and never turn gray, insisted upon it that he 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 225 
 
 would feel better if he were on deck. The dowager thought 
 otherwise, feeling that, if he went, he was sure to be washed 
 overboard : but no — go he would, she vainly endeavouring to 
 detain him by pulling his coat-tails, and protesting, between her 
 gaspings, that, if he lost his life, she never would leave him a 
 penny of her property. Muffled up in a large travelling chdle, 
 tied firmly around under his nose, with a very elegant Floren- 
 tine straw hat on, he staggered up to the deck above, where he 
 found it difficult to maintain his equilibrium. The wind whis- 
 tled through the lattice of rope and spar ; and, all at once, the 
 elegant and expensive hat that adorned the head of the aforesaid 
 youth was whipped from its lodgment, and the next minute 
 tossed a white speck on the wild waves — one instant just seen, 
 and the next far, far down a vale of white foam. 
 
 " Captain, captain !" roared the fellow, gazing sorrowfully 
 over the taffrail, " I've lost my hat — a beautiful Florence straw 
 hat. It cost me forty florins in Naples ! Dear, ! dear, !" 
 
 The captain just at the moment was giving orders to the man 
 at the helm, and did not distinctly comprehend the lamenta- 
 tion. 
 
 '• Captain," again shouted he, " I've lost my hat overboard ! 
 indeed, indeed, I have ! See, there it goes !" 
 
 " D — n your hat, sir !" bluffly replied the captain. " What 
 of it ? It's gone, and that's the last of it — a toy for the fishes." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that, captain ; for aunt will get frightfully 
 nervous if I lose it. Only think — it cost forty florins. Do man 
 the life-boat, and see if you can't recover it ! do, there's a dear, 
 good captain !" 
 
 The idea of lowering a life-boat from her tackles in a tempest, 
 to save a straw hat from a watery — what shall we say ? not 
 grave, certainly ; but that will convey the idea — was so stu- 
 pidly droll to the captain's pristine mind, that, notwithstanding 
 tlie serious aspect of the weather, he broke into a series of rough 
 guttural cacchinations, which were only ended by the youth's 
 suddenly disappearing from the quarter-deck, in consequence of 
 
226 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 ' 
 
 a sharp gust having unceremoniously precipitated him side by 
 side with sundry coils of stout rope. 
 
 Another day, when it was raining in torrents, and the wind 
 still fierce, the young gentleman diverted himself by looking at 
 the porpoises skip in the briny hillocks at the prow ; and being 
 absent rather long from his aunt's cap-strings, the old lady grew 
 anxious, and determined on hunting the truant. Arraying her- 
 self in a peach-coloured silk skirt (silk, on shipboard is good), 
 with a coiffure of rich Pomona green lace, she ascended to the 
 deck, and then hoisted an umbrella as a means of protection, 
 which was no sooner spread than it turned inside out, with an 
 ease and grace that would have made old Neptune crack his 
 sides, if he had been anywhere about, and seen it. The best of 
 it was that, notwithstanding its alteration of form, she con- 1 
 tinued to hold on to it with a firm grasp, until it pulled her to 
 the side of the vessel ; and then over it went, having as travel- 
 ling companions her fine lace coiffure^ false curls, and " fixins," 
 which, dancing about in the stiff air at a great rate, finally 
 settled on the summit of a large mass of black waters, and dis- 
 appeared in an abyss of spray. 
 
 As we have intimated, our captain was not over and above 
 polished in his manners, although a fine-hearted and brave man. 
 The second or third day out, at dinner — during which he pre- 
 sided as grand carver, and consequently sat at the head of the 
 table, he inquired of the dowager what he should send her in 
 the way of meat, addressing her as plain Mrs. Grace, which was 
 her name. 
 
 " Lady Grace, if you please, captain," correctively suggested 
 her nephew, " Profile." 
 
 " Lady Blue-fire-and-blazes, sir !" roared the captain. " I 
 never depart from ship etiquette at any risk. Shall I help you 
 to some meat, madam ?" 
 
 No sooner had he uttered this somewhat uncivil speech, than 
 my Lady Grace, as her nephew insisted upon having it, arose 
 
SCRAPS OF NAUTICAL NONSENSE. 227 
 
 from the table in a high tantrum, and retired to a state-room. 
 At tea, her place was vacant. The captain glanced at it several 
 times ; and at length the steward brought him a card, on which 
 was written : 
 
 " Lady Grace ivill feel favoured if Captain ivill 
 
 send her meals to her room the remainder of the voyage.' 1 '' 
 
 He read it aloud, and simply turning the card on the other 
 side, wrote with a pencil that he borrowed from his right-hand 
 neighbour : 
 
 " When Lady Grace thinks proper to come to the table, 
 there's oceans of grub at her service. We think too much of 
 her society to be deprived of it in this ivay ; although, if ill, 
 we'll give her anything the ship's stores afford." 
 
 She pleaded indisposition for a few days, and had her meals 
 in her room. Finally, as time wore on, she mustered cour- 
 age to once more appear at the board, which she did with any 
 amount of well-gotten-up hauteur and dignity. Her nephew 
 pronounced the captain " a nasty man," " an unpolished brute," 
 and various other as enviable cognominations ; but these were 
 all thrown away upon him, for he was as hard as steel, and heeded 
 the wrath of the youth about as much, possibly, as a lion would 
 the buzzing of a tiny but respectable house-fly. We fancy the 
 voyage did " Mr. Profile" good in many respects, and cured him 
 of several mental diseases that he did not dream salt air would 
 benefit. 
 
228 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 THE AMERICAN FIREMEN. 
 
 
 An Englishman accustomed to a conflagration once in ten 
 years, and the heavy-horse drawn engines that rattle through 
 London streets when an alarm is given, has no just notion of 
 the extensive character of the fire host of an American city. 
 There is as wide a difference in the whole system and manage- 
 ment of the fire department as can well be conceived ; and were 
 not the aim of action the same, the extinguishment of the fire\ 
 a paramount likeness would scarce exist. Imprimis, the en- 
 gines are pulled by men instead of horses; and the machines 
 themselves, differing somewhat in the principle of operation, are 
 characterized by an architectural embellishment of surpassing 
 beauty. In point of numbers, too, we suppose there arc mora 
 engines (by which we also mean what are called horse-carriages) 
 in the single city of Philadelphia than in ten of the most im- 
 portant cities of Great Britain. Each engine in an American 
 city has a regular charter, and an organized number of members, 
 who hold stated meetings, are subjected to a code of regulations v 
 and rules, and governed by a president and miner officers, ap- 
 pointed by vote. 
 
 The interest felt by each particular company for its " machine," 
 as the firemen term the apparatus, we can only liken to the zeal 
 manifested for favourite horses in England on a Derby' Day. 
 — The lower order of citizens become so attached to the 
 engines that they lounge about them a great portion of their 
 leisure time ; and out of this affection arises a clannish spirit of 
 rivalry that frequently evinces itself in acts much at variance 
 
THE AMERICAN FIREMEN. 229 
 
 with that fraternal feeling of concord so essential to the har- 
 mony of society. Each apparatus has its devoted followers. 
 Men and half-grown youths swear by the speed and efficiency of 
 the " machine" which they favour. The enthusiasm amounts to 
 | an absolute worship ; and we do not exaggerate when we say 
 I that the abstractive affection between many men and engines 
 I is stronger than the nearest ties of human relationship. — 
 , This " object love" arises mainly from associations. The am- 
 bition of first reaching a fire seems to be the prevailing idea, 
 the excitement of which engenders considerable interest. Of 
 course, the engine that first arrives at the scene of a catastrophe 
 is the trumpeted one of the occasion, and the members receive 
 all due honour for their energy and promptness. Each engine- 
 house is provided with a comfortable hall, where the members 
 frequently congregate for the purpose of discussing questions 
 concerning their duties ; and from these meetings spring a fel- 
 lowship and concordance of sentiment, the influences of which 
 could be scarce else than conciliating. 
 
 The most lamentable feature of these local-engine organiza- 
 tions is the jealous spirit of rivalry they superinduce. Many 
 companies are pitted against each other from a mere feeling of 
 envy, which often develops itself in a bitter quarrel or a con- 
 tested combat when the opponents meet. These fracas, are fre- 
 quently carried on to the destruction of considerable property, 
 and in many cases attended with loss of life. In Philadelphia, 
 where the engine feuds seem to be more common than other 
 cities of the States, there have been as many as ten deaths re- 
 sulting from the quarrels of firemen in one year. 
 
 It is not the firemen alone that catch the infection of discord ; 
 youths and lads but just out of their swaddling-clothes enter 
 into the feeling, which is regulated by the neighbourhood in 
 which they reside ; the nearest engine to their home being the 
 object of their advocacy. These youngsters, with often older 
 ones at their head, form into bands and bodies, and select as 
 
230 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 their head-quarters a particular corner or vacant lot, as near the 
 engine-house as possible, where they loiter night and day as cir- 
 cumstances admit of their presence. Of course, this is not the 
 characteristic of the youth of all society, these bands being com- 
 posed of what are conventionally termed " bad boys," princi- 
 pally the children of poor and dissolute people in the suburban 
 districts of the city. In the populated bounds of the metropo- 
 lis proper these marks of youthful demonstration become less 
 evident, and with many of the respectable companies (and there 
 is even an aristocracy here) there is no visible surrounding con- 
 tention. 
 
 In the lower districts of Philadelphia the engine affrays some- 
 times become a matter of such serious consequence that the 
 authorities have to order out an extra police to quell the out- 
 breaks. Fights, disputes, and broils of the most violent and 
 ferocious character take place, during which the inhabitants are 
 thrown into a state of desperate confusion, which is only quieted 
 by the conduct of the belligerents. On these occasions not only 
 do men participate, but the boy -gangs really do the most mis- 
 chief. The names they select for themselves strangely suggest 
 the idle, reckless character of the association. One party will 
 term themselves the H Killers,'' another the '• Bouncers," a third 
 "Black Snakes,' 1 a fourth "lied Blooders;" and, by the names 
 cut on various fences we have noticed, the " Snappers," " Jump- 
 ers,' 1 « Sharks," " Gayheads," and " Death-fetchers." It may be, 
 as an example, that the " Killers," " Sharks," and " Bouncers" 
 fraternize ; if so, an understanding extends among the members 
 of such ; but should any misunderstanding divide them, woe to 
 any of one gang that fall ungarded into the clutches of the other. 
 These divisions and unions constantly occur. The Sabbath-day 
 is not unfrequently chosen as the period for pitched battles 
 between various of- the bands, in which stones, clubs, missiles, 
 and pistols are introduced without reserve. The reader will 
 understand that these mobsmen are only outside hangers-on to 
 
THE AMERICAN FIREMEN. 231 
 
 the interests of the engines ; but the original motive of quarrel 
 is primarily based on a regard displayed for particular compa- 
 nies. 
 
 But the firemen, with all of these drawbacks on their standing 
 as a body, merit much consideration for the zealous disinterest- 
 edness with which they rush into danger for the purpose of pre- 
 serving property. Fires being numerous, the engines are almost 
 in constant service, and the members in turn work diligently for 
 many hours without the slightest idea of remuneration, endan- 
 gering their health and prostrating their energies by an order 
 of labour the most laborious. A more patient, determined, and 
 generous class of men cannot be collected from the civil ranks ; 
 and, did not the division of feeling in relation to other compa- 
 nies drive them into the commission of deeds of violence, they 
 would occupy a high position socially and morally. 
 
 An alarm of fire is the signal of vast commotion in an Ameri- 
 can city. The loud bells of the various engine-houses toll with . 
 i frantic clamour the noted strokes, according to the direction of 
 ! the alarm, which afford the firemen a clue to action. Men and 
 boys rush hither and thither pell-mell, overwhelmed with expect- 
 ancy, doubt, and excitement. Some rush immediately to the 
 engine-houses, where, assuming fire-hats, capes, and belts, com- 
 mand the rope and dash forward at once ; others, having only 
 I time to divest themselves of their coats, without assuming the 
 I fire garb, start off in their shirt sleeves. Some join the engine 
 i in the streets, and though the rope may have only five struggling 
 : members at starting, the line is soon formed on the way. The 
 apparatus being numerous, the clatter and confusion is beyond 
 expression. In the neighbourhood of the fire, if it rage 
 fiercely, are thousands of human beings, each with an emotion 
 glowing on his countenance. The shrieks and calls of the fire- 
 men through their horns, the wail of frightened women, and tho 
 wild crackling of the red flames, produce an effect that only a 
 scene of desolation can combine. The streets are flooded with 
 
232 dashes of American humor. 
 
 water from the plugs and leaky hose ; the heavy tramp of men, 
 the bickering whoop of the boys, and the crash of fallen tim- 
 bers, all — all make up a spectacle as stirriug as it is fearful. 
 
 But by far the most pleasing feature in the career of the fire 
 department of a great Atlantic city is their Triennial Parade, 
 that is celebrated with so much pomp and unanimity. On this 
 day all feuds are forgotten; the hatchet is buried, and the olive- 
 branch of peace is twined gracefully in the button-hole of every 
 fireman. The parade is a gorgeous display, and it is got up 
 regardless of labour, cost, or sacrifice. The engines, which are 
 beautiful specimens of handicraft, and in many cases very expen- 
 sive, are at this period repainted, garnished, gilded, dressed with 
 flowers, and ornamented with brilliant devices. The parade is 
 formed of all of the engines thus decorated, some of which are 
 dragged by horses and others by the members, dressed in ele- 
 gant equipments. In many of the streets along which the cor- 
 tege passes are constructed triumphal arches covered with foliage, 
 flags, and flowers. The glorious stars and stripes flutter in the 
 breeze at almost every turn, and the windows are crowded with 
 ladies waving handkerchiefs or tossing roses to the gallant fire- 
 men as they pass. Every brick seems to have given birth to a 
 pennon ; and the slender tree-tops gaily whirling in the air-cur- 
 rents seem merrily to shower sunshine and flowers upon the 
 bright pageant. 
 
 Here is an available location ; we will watch the procession 
 counter-marching from this expansive bay-window. We glance 
 up and down the street, and the couji-tVocil suggests a vast bed 
 of variegated tulips and silver lilies, disturbed by some invisible 
 spirit of action; nothing but banners, flags, streamers, bright 
 costume, and the most vivid objects of fanciful invention meet 
 the view. The column advances, and brilliant beyond descrip- 
 tion it is. 
 
 First comes the chief marshal, plainly but elegantly dressed, 
 mounted on a spirited jet black charger, and accompanied by 
 
THE AMERICAN FIREMEN. 233 
 
 twelve special aids similarly mounted, with rosettes of blue rib- 
 bon gracefully adjusted on their lappels. 
 
 Now we have prodigious alarm bells, supported by coloured 
 frameworks of wood, placed on wheels, and drawn by horses 
 richly caparisoned. Ringers are in attendance, and a rude paean 
 is sounded on the " bosom of the palpitating air." Oh ! these 
 bells, bells, bells, as poor Poe wrote it — 
 
 " And his merry bosom swells with the paean of the bells, 
 
 Keeping time, time, time, in a sort of Runic rhyme. 
 # # # # 
 
 To the throbbing of the bells— the sobbing of the bells, 
 As he knells, knells, knells !" 
 
 A novel feature next approaches. It is a cavalcade of fire- 
 men, composed of a representative from each of the various 
 companies participating in the festivities of the day. The riders 
 are four abreast, and the elegance and diversity of their cos- 
 tumes form quite a gorgeous and pleasing spectacle. The squad- 
 ron has assumed the form of a deep, hollow square, reminding 
 one of the angles of an antiquated palace court-yard. 
 
 A train of carriages, containing a number of well-dressed, re- 
 spectable-men, are nest in order. They are officers and com- 
 mittee-men of various fire associations. 
 
 And now begins the picturesque portion of the panorama. A 
 brass-band, with an overplus of bassoons, step gaily along, vent- 
 ing a gush of distracted melody at every stride. With the 
 exception of the very corpulent man with the cornet, the toute 
 ensemble is musicianly. 
 
 Four sleek, black horses, in sombre trappings, with plumes 
 coqucttishly waving at their heads, are attached to a large mag- 
 nificent engine, the gallery of which is surmounted by a large 
 spread-eagle. A silken canopy is also formed over the whole, 
 at the sides of which hang garlands of drooping white roses. 
 Accompanying this engine, are at least one hundred and fifty 
 members plainly equipped. 
 
 This is followed by what is termed a " hose-carriage," a light 
 
234 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 fairy-like machine, that would seem at a glance more fitted for 
 the gambollings of Puck and his elfin cotemporaries than the 
 visitant of the disastrous scene of a conflagration. The car- 
 riage is painted black and striped with gold, while the frontispieco 
 is ornamented with a well-executed coat-of-arms of the city. 
 The members arc attired in dark trowsers, gray coats with largo 
 metal buttons, black leathern capes, and hats, with gold letters 
 forming the name of the company. 
 
 A " Hook and Ladder " company are next in the line. They 
 muster numerously and display a beautiful banner trimmed with 
 cherry and blue satin and silver stars. On one side is an in- 
 scription showing it to be the gift of the ladies. 
 
 Another engine follows, the body of which is black, striped 
 with bronze and silver. The galleries and upper works are 
 completely covered with the most magnificent bouquets and gar- 
 lands that the taste of Flora could devise. The panels on the 
 ends of the body of the engine, and those of the gallery, are 
 ornamented with niches, in which arc placed dazzlingly brilliant 
 representations of the Genius of " Liberty," which is the name 
 of the apparatus. 
 
 To proceed in detail in this manner would, perhaps, weary 
 the reader ; so we will group the incidental features for the sake 
 of brevity. 
 
 As the procession advances it brightens in aspect. Company 
 after company succeed each other, attired in every conceivable 
 variety of fanciful fire equipment. Black and gold, now blue 
 and silver, and dotting the line, a relief to the glitter, is found 
 in a quiet, unpretentious drab, a subdued claret, or staid, sober, 
 old gray. Many of the horses attached to the larger engines are 
 led by African grooms richly dressed as Turks, the folds of 
 whose turbans AH Pacha might safely admire in the very depths 
 of Pera. Tribes of Indians in Wampum, and feathers, and bead- 
 embroidered feet, lend their picturesque assistance in complet- 
 ing the grotesquenesss of the celebration. 
 
THE AMERICAN FIREMEN. 
 
 These whoop and dash along much to the fascinating horror 
 of the romantic little boys who congregate near them in very 
 wonderment, and march by their side the whole of the route, 
 jnst for the purpose to hear them whoop savagely. It will read- 
 ily be inferred that these Indians are not the Simon Pure 
 aborigines, but ordinary white men, costumed to order by some 
 respectable theatrical and bal masque dispenser of togas and 
 terror, who can get one up for a few shillings to resemble a great 
 Sachem or a Sicilian peasant at ten minutes' notice. 
 
 One or two of the companies may have a dozen or so placid, 
 sedate, queer4ooking Quakers in white wigs and broad-brimmed 
 thapeaus. This character instalment generally affords the fast 
 men among the spectators an opening for a volley of badinage, 
 which is given and received, however, in the best humor. Here 
 and there may also be seen a group of jolly sailors with any 
 quantity of pigtail and nonchalance. 
 
 The banners amount to a multitude. Some of them are sur- 
 passingly beautiful, composed of satin — blue, white, green, ma- 
 roon, or pink, as the case may be, trimmed with gold and silver 
 bullion, and bearing graceful devices in poetry and mythology. 
 On many are exquisite paintings by the best artistes, represent- 
 ing scenes of history, antiquity, and art ; or medallion heads of 
 the great men that America has produced in her young career — 
 Washington, Franklin, Patrick Henry, Jefferson, Adams, Clay, 
 and others of similar statesmanship position. The appearance 
 of this long line of banners from a "high point of view is extra- 
 ordinarily imposing, suggestinga huge, richly-tinted ribbon, shift- 
 ing with capricious motion in the bright sunlight. 
 
 The variety of the engines, the modes of decoration, and the 
 elegance of the designs, afford a world of interest. The more 
 graceful hose-carriages, with their rich mountings and delightful 
 frontispieces, also claim a large share of attention. Some of the 
 latter are painted in the most graceful colors beautifully blushed, 
 and adorned with arabesque border etchings. The panels in 
 
236 DASHES OF AMERICAN HITMOR. 
 
 many cases are embellished with pictures chosen with pure 
 artistic taste ; while the frontispieces, swelling proudly forward 
 like the — but we wont make the simile, for fear of displeasing 
 the ladies — present specimens of the painter's delightful art, 
 which would grace a niche of the Louvre. Mythological sub- 
 jects exceed, with once in a while an incident of historical im- 
 portance. Jupiter, Mercury, Pluto, Venus, Europa, Psyche, 
 and a lot of people of that class, are brought forward pictorially 
 with the most unexceptionable taste. 
 
 It is not only the elegance of the apparatus — the cleanliness 
 and polish of every portion of which is a distinguishing feature — 
 that we have to take captive our admiration; flowers of gorgeous 
 hues, twined by thousands of fair fingers, are suspended from 
 every point of the engines; wreaths and coronals the most fan* 
 tastique — bouquets the brightest and sweetest — devices, the re- 
 sult of refined ingenuity, are placed where taste has pointed her 
 u slender reed." Every bush and flower-garden has been ran- 
 sacked to supply gifts for the occasion ; not a rose is left bloom- 
 ing, and the lilies have been wantonly torn from their " parent 
 stems" to deck the procession. The city seems offering up in- 
 cense the sweetest that flowers can yield, and the sun goes down 
 on as bright and brilliant a carnival as the United States num- 
 bers among her festivities. 
 
237 
 
 JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 
 
 Actors are famous jokers, verbal and practical. There is 
 the low-comedy man of your provincial establishment, for ex- 
 ample, the delight of the children and the gay companion of the 
 men — -convulsing by his grimaces, and producing any quantities 
 of mirth by his odd capers and ancient green-room jests. There 
 is your " heavy father" and " first old man," with a burly cane, 
 telling a story with an agony of attitudes. There is your 
 dancer and Harlequin, practising an absurd pirouette by way 
 of burlesque; and standing at the stage-door with a cut-away 
 coat, smart scarf, though somewhat the worse for wear, yet 
 glossy from a recent iron, is the " light comedian" — the Rover, 
 the Dick Dashall, and Young Rapid of the playhouse. He is 
 reciting a snatch of Massinger, and swearing it reminds him of 
 Shakspeare. Then he introduces a new reading of the line — 
 
 " Honest, my lord ?" 
 
 by pausing deliberately after the first word, and dwelling sig- 
 nificantly on my — 
 
 Honest) my lord! 
 
 at which the surrounding histrions leer and gradually drop in 
 through the door to look after rehearsal. 
 
 And actors seem to tell a joke with more zest than most 
 other people. They enter into the spirit of it with deliberate 
 self-possession, throw in the varied tones required to enamel it, 
 dilate their eyes and contract the brows if the story demands it, 
 and in fact act the part off the stage with an agreeable power. 
 Your would-be funny man is a nuisance; and an actor's appre- 
 
238 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 ciation of the shades of humour seems to strengthen his judg- 
 ment and regulate his manner in repeating a jest. 
 
 The " first old man" is sure to have a store of anecdotes at 
 his finger's end about other " old men " that have gone before 
 him, and when he refers to them he puffs out his cheeks and 
 twists his mouth as they were supposed to have clone. The 
 low comedian has a number of eccentric stories to tell of Listen, 
 Reeves, ct id o?n?ic, and imitates with tolerable accuracy the 
 tone of voice of Buckstone, Keelcy, Owens, and others in his 
 " line of business." The light comedian experiences a peculiar 
 gusto in talking of departed Dashalls and defunct Benedicts. 
 He remembers how so-and-so was playing Borneo on one occa- 
 sion, and Juliet jumped, in the intensity of her feelings, from 
 the balcony into his arms. He has heard his father say that 
 Elliston's Charles Surface was a miracle of elegance ; and he 
 has a personal cognizance of Charles Mathews being able to act 
 the gentleman. The clown is pregnant with the capers of 
 Grimaldi and Ferrantini ; and the walking gentleman of small 
 salary has numberless cases to tell of when he " threw up parts" 
 that were far beneath his talents. 
 
 The " leading man" is prolific in stories of his quarrels with 
 various managers — of how this one wanted him to do De 
 Mauprat instead of Bichlicu, Pythias instead of Damon, Julius 
 Caesar instead of Brutus, Iago instead of Othello, for which 
 latter part he has an hallucination he was expressly created. 
 If he had come into the world with a label dangling at his toe, 
 on which was written "made to order for Othello," he could 
 not be more sanguine in his belief. He also tells anecdotes of 
 his experience when overstocked managers desired to break 
 their engagements because he did not draw — how he held them 
 to their bond, and fretted through a tragedy every evening. 
 All of these things the '• leading man" remembers, beside com- 
 pliments that different stars — the Keans, Booths, Andersons, 
 Phelps, Pitts of the trade — have bestowed on him when he 
 " did" the seco?ids at their last engagement. 
 
JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 239 
 
 The man that enacts the villains conies in for his share of 
 melo-dramatic vaunt. He tells a story of having played Glen- 
 alvon one night so naturally that the audience hissed him. 
 Then the low comedian, who is standing by, wants to know 
 whether it was the fidelity of the impersonation or his bad act- 
 ing that commanded the hisses ; after which inquiry he winks his 
 right eye waggishly at a young lady who is practising coups in 
 book-muslin and tights, which causes " little Sis," as she is 
 termed, to turn her head and fairly go into convulsions. 
 
 But we must not keep the stage of our sketch waiting too 
 long, or our audience may grow dissatisfied and manifest their 
 disapprobation. We started by saying that actors were famous 
 jokers, and so they are, in a practical sense, when a pretentious 
 or verdant subject presents himself for honors. 
 
 Some time ago an ignorant, long-legged Yankee, with a coun- 
 tenance that looked as if it had been bunglingly chiselled out 
 of underdone pie-crust, presented himself at the stage door of 
 one of the New-York theatres, and desired in a two-keyed voice 
 to see the manager. He was conducted to a private apartment, 
 where he was soon waited on. 
 
 " Do you wish to see me ?" said the manager. 
 
 " Aair yeou the owner of this show ?" 
 
 " Show, sir, what do you mean by show?''' — with a mouthful 
 of italics. 
 
 u Show ! I mean the play-actin' biz'nas," placidly replied 
 Mr. Yank, with an expression that ancient putty might be in- 
 duced to assume, with considerable working. 
 
 " Well, sir, what's your business ?" 
 
 " Why, they all a-been tellin' me up in Casco I've got a heap 
 of talent for takin' off people, and I want to see if you can't 
 give me a chance." 
 
 The manager had a bit of fun in his nature, and thought ho 
 would humor the applicant. He remarked — 
 
 "Act ! yes, yes, I see — you want to play characters for a 
 
240 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 night or two. Good idea ! You've got a brilliant face for the 
 
 " So everybody tells me, and that's why I want to try my 
 hand at it. They say lookin' a part's half the fight." 
 
 " 0, yes, quite, if not seven-eighths. What did you think 
 of ' opening in' ?" interrogated Crummies. 
 
 " In a tke-a-tre if I could," said the Down Easter. " Some 
 wuz advisin' me to try a Thespy Ann S'ciety ; but I can't get 
 any signs up around town for sich things, and so I think I'll 
 try a the-a-tre if it's cheap." 
 
 This last word was the entamure of a new idea, at which the 
 manager caught with wonderful avidity. His exchequer was 
 not particularly overloaded (the last spectacle being so dull, 
 nobody could sit through it), and this might be some wander- 
 ing good fortune in the shape of a stage-struck rustic Godsend, 
 with a barren noddle and a full purse. The manager took the 
 idea in an instant. 
 
 " Well, I can only say, my good fellow," observed the mana- 
 ger affectedly, " if you want to play, you can have me as your 
 manager for a few nights very cheap, and choose your own 
 parts." 
 
 " Exactly so." 
 
 " Do you propose Shaksperian characters ?" 
 u No, I wuz a-thinkin' Trakedy characters would suit me 
 best," replied the Yankee. 
 
 "Ah ! I comprehend. Are you familiar with the principal 
 tragic parts ?" 
 
 " Not much, but I've hearn great talk of 'em."' 
 " Do you know, for example, William Tell at all ?" 
 "William Tellitall?" repeated Down East, stretching his 
 long neck till it seemed to curve like a swan's. " No, I don't 
 know him, but I know Bill Tellabout well enough, and a hearty 
 chap he is, with a knife and fork in his paws." 
 
 " You don't comprehend," emendated the manager, with a 
 
JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 241 
 
 smothered chuckle. " I mean William T-E-L-L— Tell, the 
 Swiss patriot." 
 
 " 0, now I take you. You mean the feller that was sich a 
 tearin' good shot, and knocked a cabbage off the head of his 
 brother or his son — or one of his relations — I forget now which 
 it was." 
 
 " That's the man," concurred the other ; " only the cabbage 
 was an apple, and it was his son, not his brother." 
 
 " Dear me, is that a fact ? It's a wunder he didn't knock 
 the child's head off. I shouldn't like to play that ; for though 
 I'm a saasy good shot, I might miss the mark and git into 
 trouble." 
 
 " Very true, I confess that never struck me, with all my ex- 
 perience. You've wonderful forethought." 
 
 " "Well, it's better to think of these things fust as last, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 "Decidedly." 
 
 " Wall, now, about the price ? I think I wouldn't care 
 abeout actin' more than one night." 
 
 The stage-manager secretly concurred in the correctness of 
 the decision, but of course remained silent. 
 
 "What do you feel you can give? Remember I'll find 
 dresses, scenery, lights, and all the various things required." 
 " Is your dresses showy and nice lookin' ?" 
 " Amazingly so." 
 
 " I want to wear somethin' startlin'-*-spangles is my sort, 
 and acres of tins ill." 
 
 " Precisely. We'll rig you out till you look as if you'd 
 been hall-keeper to a fairy grotto." 
 
 The Down Easter's imagination at this moment got the bet- 
 ter of him, and jumping up, he roared — 
 
 " Crimini, wouldn't I like Lid Stebbins to see me. I guess 
 she'd say I'm < one of 'em.' " 
 
 " About the terms then," said the manager, taking advantage 
 
242 dashes of American humor. 
 
 of his candidate's rapture, and returning to the great point of 
 the matter. " Can't we close ?" 
 
 " What, the the-a-tre ?" 
 
 " No, no, the agreement. To be plain, sir, can you afford to 
 give me fifty dollars for one night's performance, and all you 
 draw over four hundred dollars 111 return you.' 1 
 
 This was a safe proposal, when it is known the theatre only 
 held, when packed, three hundred and seventy-five dollars. 
 
 " Fifty dollars !" mused the histrionic rustic. " That's ahead 
 of my pile considerable. Can't go that, but I'll tell you what 
 I'll do. I'll give you three dollars and a half if you'll dress me 
 up in purty things, and let me speak ' The House that Jack 
 built' between the pieces." 
 
 The manager, with the prospect of a prize from the infatuated 
 booby, grew suddenly angry at this proposition, and was on the 
 eve of turning him, sans ccre?no?iie, out of the theatre. But a 
 gleam of fun shooting across his mind, softened his rage in a 
 moment. Without replying to the condition, he rang a bell, 
 which had the effect of summoning the presence of a dingy lad, 
 known as the " call boy." 
 
 u What's rehearsiii 
 
 " The second act of « The Bridal,' " replied the boy. 
 
 " Is < The Waterman' over ':"' 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Has Mr. Gleely gone ?" 
 
 " I'll see, sir." 
 
 11 If he's not, send him to me." 
 
 The boy ran off, and immediately instituted a dim but indus- 
 trious search among the green rooms, through the coulisses, be- 
 hind shaded cut-pieces, bits of castles, halves of goblin caverns, 
 and at length discovered Mr. Gleely leaning against a " pair of 
 flats" in a dark corner, talking droll rubbish to a young woman 
 in mouse-coloured gaiters, with cherry-coloured ribbon on a new 
 straw bonnet. 
 
JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 243 
 
 The boy delivered his message, and Mr. Gleely, who was the 
 low comedian of the theatre, making a couple of comic excuses 
 to the young lady in the mouse-coloured gaiters, in order, of 
 course, to make the young lady in the mouse-coloured gaiters 
 laugh, proceeded to the manager's room. 
 " Ah ! Mr. Gleely, I'm glad you've come." 
 Mr. Gleely bowed deferentially, being ignorant of his mana- 
 ger's desire. 
 
 " Permit me," continued the manager, winking aside to the 
 comedian, which he " took" in a moment. a Permit me to in- 
 troduce you to Mr. Garrick Talmarina Keanibus, our grand star." 
 a Powerful bleaged to you, sir," said the Yankee, rising and 
 offering his gaunt digits to Mr. Gleely. " I'm much obleeged 
 to know you." 
 
 " This gentleman," continued the manager, with a mock gra- 
 vity, accompanied by various sly winks, i: is desirous of coming 
 out as an actor, and knowing your burning desire to bring for- 
 ward modest merit, I thought I could not do him a better ser- 
 vice than to turn him over to your fostering care." 
 
 " I fully comprehend," replied the comedian, in an assumed 
 deep dramatic tone ; " and it will afford me continents of delight 
 and globes of satisfaction to be the instrument of his progres- 
 sive — " 
 
 " I swar to man you are pesky kind," interrupted the candi- 
 date for laurels. " Will you go and take a drink ?" 
 
 " Thank you, that's something our profession never do," re- 
 plied the comedian ; " but if you'll walk back on the stage, I 
 shall feel pleasure in showing you the easiest method of becom- 
 ing an actor." 
 
 " I hope you'll even put yourself to some trouble in showing 
 him the road to fame," remarked the manager, with a meaning 
 glance at the floor." 
 
 " Decidedly ! I'd go as far as to get in a perspiration in 
 teaching him," retorted the comedian. 
 
244 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 The rustic was so overcome with these supposed complimen- 
 tary intentions, that his inflexible face seemed even more gro- 
 tesquely severe beneath them. 
 
 The comedian and the manager evidently understood each 
 other, and mutually enjoyed the perspective waggery. 
 
 " Have the goodness to follow me," said Mr. Gleely, leading 
 the way through a dark avenue that conducted to the wings. 
 
 " I'm arter you," responded the Yankee, groping through the 
 gloom as a child will feel its way in an unknown place. " It's 
 tarnation dark here — almost as black as our cockloft, and the 
 dark's so thick there you can slice it like kowcumbcrs." 
 
 The passage crossed, the descent of several stairs^ brought 
 them on the stage, where the new-comer rolled his boiled-look- 
 ing eyes about in a distraction of wonderment. As they got to 
 the prompter's table, a tall, athletic man, with knitted brows and 
 a pilot overcoat, who was rehearsing " Melantius," walked to- 
 wards them, and exclaimed — 
 
 " Whore Evadne's honor T 
 Where's her honor, that I left one crystal- 
 Without cloud, flaw, or speck f H 
 
 The poor rustic, thinking by the tragedian's manner that these 
 words were directed to him, started with a dismal twitch, and 
 the next moment backed into the orchestra, where, striking the 
 butt of a huge violoncello, up flew his heels, and down he tum- 
 bled, as sad a picture of distributed desolation, amid spilt violins, 
 as could well be conceived. 
 
 " Help ! Help me out !" he roared, with his voice struggling 
 through the score of at least half-a-dozen operas that had fallen 
 on him in his sudden descent. " Take me out ! This fat fiddle 
 will be the death of me!" 
 
 Mr. Gleely and the property-man jumped into the orchestra* 
 and assisted him to rise ; and every member of the company 
 then present, from the stage-manager to the young woman in the 
 mouse-coloured gaiters, rushed to the end of the stage, and bent 
 
JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 245 
 
 their gaze into the gulph of music, to behold who the capsized 
 Victim could be. 
 
 They at once saw that he was a countryman and a stranger, 
 by his garb and dialect, and a tacit understanding that waggery 
 was to be enacted, seemed to run the round of the actors. 
 
 "Are you much hurt ?" asked Mr. Gleely, brushing the dust 
 from his napkin-tinted trowsers, with a face as long as a column. 
 
 " Not much," replied he, gazing at the chuckling group 
 around him ; " except I've knocked about a pound of skin off 
 my shin !" 
 
 " ! that's nothing !" consoled the comedian. " So your 
 head isn't hurt. It would be a pity if you'd damaged that, for 
 it would have been the utter ruin of an enormous stage face." 
 
 This last remark was accompanied by a suggestively roguish 
 wink at the surrounding people, who seemed to comprehend its 
 meaning, and the whole of them — except those who were en- 
 gaged in the rehearsal — nocked merrily to the green-room. 
 
 " Sit down there," said the comedian, with another wicked 
 wink at his " followers," placing the down-easter, half mysti- 
 fied, in a large coronation chair. " Now, ladies and gentlemen," 
 continued he, turning to the fun-loving assembly; lend me 
 your fcars to what I'm about to say ; you see this worthy man, 
 don't you?" 
 
 " Yes ! yes !" cried everybody. 
 
 " He's a man of splendid talents in our glorious profession, 
 and has come to town to develop that ability which has for a 
 term of sullen years been buried, as it were, under a bushel." 
 
 " What a shame !" exclaimed the feminine owner of the 
 mouse-colored gaiters, with a giggle. 
 
 " I pray you, silence, MacVlle Pynkboots, and don't laugh at 
 your respected parent, 1 ' continued the comedian. 
 
 The idea of his being her " respected parent" was the cue 
 for another brief giggle, and he proceeded — 
 
 "As I said before, ladies and gentlemen, and would continue 
 
246 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 to say till the end of time, if the case demanded it, and I 
 think you all have a profound respect for my integrity — you 
 see this brilliant luminary — " 
 
 " I'm not a luminary, I'm a farmer !" interrupted the Yan- 
 kee, with a regular rustic grunt. 
 
 " It's all the same, my dear sir, quite the same ; and as I 
 was about to observe, ladies and gentlemen, and would have 
 observed long ere this, had I not been divers times interrupted 
 — this luminary has been placed under my guidance by our 
 worthy and modest manager, because he knows and appreciates 
 my abilities in preparing young men for the stage." 
 
 " Hear ! Hear ! Bravo !" roared the crowd. 
 
 " 'Tis true Thespis was only a green-grocer, but what an 
 exponent he afterwards became ! Garrick might have been a 
 pork-butcher, for all we know, but he proved to the astonished 
 world that he could play ' Hamlet' as well as he could cure 
 hams, and slaughter ' Polonius' with the ease that he could 
 assassinate swine. Mrs. Siddons possibly was a mantua- 
 maker, but she was none the worse for that ; and if the great 
 Edwin Forrest had been born with smaller calves, it would not 
 have marred in the least the force and beauty of his impersona- 
 tions !" 
 
 " Good !" shouted the Yankee, passing his hand over the 
 vicinity of his bruised shin. " Big legs dont make no kind 
 a-difference." 
 
 " Now, ladies and gentlemen," continued Mr. Gleely, with 
 the same mock lugubrity of countenance, "what I have to ask 
 you is — will you lend a helping haDd to a brother artist ? Speak 
 as it were with one mighty voice, and let } r our answer fall upon 
 my dullest ear !" 
 
 " We will !" cried some. 
 
 " Yes !" cried others. 
 
 " Certainly!" shrieked the rest. 
 
 " Then listen to what I propose, all — ladies excepted. Ma- 
 
JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 247 
 
 demoiselle Pynkboots, Madame Popghee, and Miss Alexina 
 Virginia Jull, and the maidens of the corps du ballet, will be 
 so good as to retire for a few moments." 
 
 The ladies mentioned, headed by the young person in the 
 mouse-colored gaiters, dawdled out of the room, though it was 
 evident that by sundry saucy tosses of the head they would 
 have preferred to remain. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, I suggest that, in order to initiate Mr. 
 , I beg your pardon, your name is ?" 
 
 " Barebones," said the Down Easter. 
 
 " Barebones," repeated the comedian. " And, by the way, a 
 capital name for a serious actor. I say, I suggest that we, in a 
 body, accompany Squarebones, or rather Barebones, to the ward- 
 robe, and there invest him with a costume fit for a king, in order 
 to test his figure." 
 
 " 'Skuze me, but I'd rather not do that," interrupted the 
 Yankee with some concern, not fully comprehending the drift 
 of his waggish patron. 
 
 " It must be so, Plato," quotingly added Mr. Gleely. " Test- 
 ing the figure is the very first step towards becoming an actor : 
 it's done in order to regulate your shape. Now, hie you, gen- 
 tlemen, to the wardrobe, and we'll follow you anon." 
 
 "When?" innocently asked Mr. Barebones. 
 
 " Anon — immediately — now. Gentlemen, begone !" and with 
 a melo-dramatic flourish of his arms, such as gnomes with silver 
 eyes express in fairy pieces, the comedian sent the crowd with 
 a magic rush from the room. 
 
 " We'll go quietly up now," said the comedian, gravely ; 
 " and I'll dress you as the sanguinary ' Pedro de Beetjuice,' in 
 the ' Fatal Toothpick.' It will be an enchanting part for you 
 to open in. Just fancy your hopping down to the footlights on 
 one leg, and, after telling the audience to ' go to grass,' to draw 
 out a dip candle from your boot, and then, after flourishing it 
 wildly, thus, to three bars of slow music and seven pans of red 
 fire, to rashly bury it to the wick in your diaphram." 
 
248 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Spose you hain't got a die-a-fram to bury it in. Wouldn't 
 stickin' it in the pocket do jist as well ?" 
 
 " Never, never ! the effect would be lost. Besides it would 
 melt if you grew hot, and — ." 
 
 " But, ain't I dead ?" 
 
 " Dead ! not a-dead, only hurt. You're a Spanish conjuror, 
 and got as many lives as a cat. But come, we'll go at once to 
 the 'wardrobe,'" and pulling Mr. Barebones by the skirts of 
 his ample coat, he limped after the comedian, and both made 
 their way to the repository of costume. 
 
 The first movement here was to select as grotesque a contrast 
 of garments as the wags could lay hands on, and after consider- 
 able overhauling and confusion, during which the Down Easter 
 was pulled almost to bits, his spindle legs were inserted into a 
 pair of dilapidated tights, and then thrust into enormous russet 
 boots that looked as if they were in the last stage of jaundice. 
 A fine cambric habit-shirt was the next article " applied," over 
 which was buttoned an immense flowered waistcoat, such as rich 
 old uncles from India wear in the comedies. A military coat, 
 open in front, followed ; and on his head was placed a gigantic 
 helmet that concealed at least one-third of his stupid physiogno- 
 my. A red-hot poker that had been used in the last pantomime 
 was then thrust into his hands, on which were drawn enormous 
 boxing gloves, and thus attired, he was marched down on the 
 stage with all the honors. 
 
 The tragedy rehearsal was just over, and a number of cory- 
 phees in short skirts and round-toed faded pink slippers were 
 waiting about in groups in anticipation of the " ballet call," as 
 Mr. Barebones, en costume, made his appearance. Such a shriek 
 as those mad-cap hoydens sent up when they beheld the " make 
 up" of the new-comer. One told him to brandish his poker; 
 another pinched his legs, and then giggled as if her slippers 
 would burst in the merriment. One pert little puss insisted on- 
 his dancing the Polka with her ; and still another ironically ad- ■ 
 
JONATHAN BEHIND THE SCENES. 249 
 
 dressed him as <c Mister Garrick," and seemed curious to know 
 the period that his dress represented. 
 
 " Now look here, you gals, go away !" at last exclaimed he, 
 iC I'm a monerk, and mustn't be made free with. Jist stand 
 aside and let me speak a piece to my friend here," meaning Mr, 
 Gleely. 
 
 While all this was going on, the comedian had given instruc- 
 tions to the mechanist to go below and have in readiness a trap, 
 which was to be worked at the signal of a bell. A theatrical 
 mechanist is not slow to execute an order where fun is at the 
 bottom, and he was promptly at his place. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, do as our mighty monarch commands 
 ye," said Mr. Gleely, coming forward and placing the Yankee 
 on the prepared trap aforesaid. " He is now about to open the 
 portals of his regal jaws, and we listen with breathless attention, 
 eager to drink in every word." 
 
 A general huddle commenced among coryphees,. actors, super- 
 numeries, and everybody, in arranging themselves about the 
 speaker. 
 
 " Now, sir, stand in that position," pursued Mr. Gleely, plac- 
 ing his pupil's legs closely together, and casting a pointed glance 
 at his surrounding colleagues. " That's well. Now shoulder 
 your poker like a musket. Good ! Remember, no matter what 
 happens, you must not move, because if you do it will break the 
 spell. Remember !" 
 
 ' ; All right, I won't budge an inch," quoth Yankee, elevating 
 his head and blinking under the weight of the huge helmet. 
 
 " Now, sir," said the comedian, " you must repeat what I 
 utter." 
 
 " Ya-as." 
 
 " Hugum snugum wo belorem " 
 
 As far as it was possible he obeyed. 
 
 " Ji — ni — guy — wherem " 
 
 Another attempt with less success. 
 
250 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Plus nus, and — disappear I" 
 
 At that moment a bell faintly tinkled, and the next instant 
 the candidate for histrionic laurels was disappearing with more 
 swiftness than was comfortable to his nerves. Down he went, 
 and in closed the floor with the rapidity of thought. 
 
 The assembled wags joined in one mighty scream ; the cory- 
 phees got such pains in their sides, it was full an hour before 
 they could " get on" with the Pas des Poignards. Mr. Gleely 
 consoled himself with having cured a young man of a dangerous 
 infatuation — the mechanist crawled quietly from the basement — 
 and the last seen of the Yankee, he was minus the helmet and 
 poker, mildly inquiring the way to " that place ivhar he left his 
 clothes." 
 
251 
 
 YANKEE INQUISITIVENESS. 
 
 Hill ! poor Yankee Hill ! He was the very incarnation of 
 drollery and esprit. We loved to see his smiling, good-natured 
 phiz before the lights, for it was sure to impregnate the very 
 atmosphere with a sense of merriment. He possessed a genius 
 for the impersonation of the peculiarities of Down East charac- 
 ter, which no actor before nor since his time has approached, 
 He was natural, captivating, easy, and brilliant. With what 
 genial unction he related a pleasantry ! — with how much spark- 
 ling zest he bantered the follies of mankind ! The witticisms 
 flashed from his lips as flakes of light along the orient. A gay, 
 glorious fellow was he, in every sense of the expression. 
 
 His store of anecdotes seemed to be inexhaustible ; and he 
 was one of those few gifted creatures who could talk all day, and 
 still have something left worth listening to. One never wearied 
 of hearing him. Age did not tarnish, 
 
 " nor custom stale, 
 
 His infinite variety." 
 
 His whimsical stories yet range the length and breadth of the 
 United States, as unowned oddities. They have been passed 
 from one to another, till the label of identity has fallen from 
 them in the vortex of narration. We recognize them here and 
 there, as one will find polished pebbles on the sea-beach. What 
 a grotesque medley his portfolio would present ! Spirit of 
 Momus ! we invoke thee to assist, by thy potent influence, the 
 finding of this rare legacy ! 
 
252 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR, 
 
 "We remember a scrap of adventure that Hill used to relate, 
 illustrative of the trait of inquisitiveness, so noticeable among 
 the primitive home-spun Yankees. It appears that the come- 
 dian was travelling in a stage-coach, and sat next to a gawky, 
 slab-sided Vermonter, who opened the conversation with the 
 usual platitudes touching " weather — crops — and gineral matters 
 ofintr's." 
 
 " You're travelling, I guess, Mister ?" said Vermont. 
 
 " If being in a stage-coach behind four fleet roans is any evi- 
 dence of it, I should think I was," coolly replied Hill. 
 
 " Ya-as — you're right, E-e-h !" 
 
 A brief pause. 
 
 u Travellin' for your health ?" 
 
 " Not exactly," responded Hili. 
 
 u ! then, on biz-iicss, I reckon, eh ?" 
 
 " Yes — no ; that is to say, not precisely." 
 
 " E-eh ! I perceive — half biz-ness and half pleasure" — rolling 
 his large eyes about like bewildered bagatelle balls. 
 
 "Something in that way." 
 
 And not caring to be deluged with interrogatives, as he could 
 see the " breed" of his friend, the comedian took from his pocket 
 a copy of " Humphrey Clinker," and soon his mind was psycho- 
 logically with that notable personage. 
 
 "Umph!" grunted Vermont; "I beg your pardon, Mister, 
 but is it fur to " 
 
 Hill affected not to hear him. He repeated the question. 
 
 " Don : t know," replied he, without taking his eyes from the 
 book. 
 
 "Well, should yeou think it wuz, considerin' what we've 
 come?" 
 
 " Can't say." 
 
 Another " slight" silence. 
 
 " Like this part of the country ?" 
 
 u Yes" — in a gruff tone. 
 
YANKEE INQUISITIVENESS. 253 
 
 " So do I" — edging still closer to Hill. 
 
 A moment's intermission. 
 
 " Yeou live abeout here, ^>re-haps ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Nutker dew I." 
 
 "Uniph!" 
 
 " That's a strange coincidence." 
 
 Vermont here adjusted his cravat — a flowered velvet of a 
 strong gamboge tint — the bow of which, terminating into a re- 
 semblance of a tipsy letter X, had imperceptibly jogged round 
 and got under his ear. Bringing the bow back to its original 
 position under his chin, he remarked — 
 
 61 Excuse me, Mister, do you ever expect tew come this way 
 agin ?" 
 
 " Have no positive knowledge," laconically replied Hill. 
 
 " I spose you don't like coach ridin' ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Not half so nice as steamboat or cars, is't ?" 
 
 " Quite agree with you." 
 
 Here he eased off for a moment or two, and then renewed the 
 attack. Nudging his victim, he said — 
 
 " I'm an American, I am." 
 
 " Shouldn't have taken you for either a Frenchman or a 
 Spaniard," dryly remarked the comedian. 
 
 " No ? I'm glad to hear you say so. I've been told afore 
 now that I had a real Russian mouth, and that my nose was 
 on the Greek style, but I reckon they ain't if the truth wuz told." 
 
 What possible affinity there could exist between his mouth 
 and Russia, unless it was its extent, would be hard to conjec- 
 ture. If Greek noses are of that long sort that hasten down 
 to a red point, then his nose was Grecian in the extreme. If 
 not, we will avoid a rash classification of the organ, which at a 
 glance haply reminded one of a platina shell, with which light- 
 ning rods are tipped to guard against meteorological disasters. 
 
254 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 Hill saw it was no use to thwart the fellow, for talk he 
 would, " come what, come may." The words bubbled through 
 his lips as will-o'-the-wisps swell to the surface of a marsh. 
 The comedian laid down the book, and the Yankee's eyes 
 sparkled in the anticipation of a long, gossipy, old-fashioned 
 chat. 
 
 " You're an American, I spose ?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Du yew know I thought you wuz." 
 
 " Indeed ?" 
 
 " Great country this, eh ?" after a moment's hesitation. 
 
 "Extraordinary country." 
 
 " Good kind of land tew be born in." 
 
 a True j> 
 
 " Our mountains tower up as if they knew what they were 
 about, eh ?" 
 
 "Unquestionably/' 
 
 " Our rivers ain't no puddles nuther." 
 
 « Quite right." 
 
 "And I guess our lakes would make folks look if they were 
 hard pushed." • 
 
 " To be sure." 
 
 " I'm glad you agree with me on them pints, I am" — then 
 relapsing for a moment into a blank silence, he started up again 
 with — 
 
 " What teown were you born in, if it's not an extravagant 
 question ?" 
 
 " Boston." 
 
 " Crinky, how odd ! — I've often been there." 
 
 " Ah, indeed I" 
 
 Pause of at least fifty-five seconds. 
 
 " Dew yeou know — now don't say it's curusity — but since 
 we have got tew talkin', mister, dew yeou know I should like 
 to know yeour Dame." 
 
YANKEE INQUISITIVENESS. 255 
 
 " Would you ?" said the comedian, laughing. 
 
 " It runs in my head I've seen you somewhere." 
 
 " Very possible." 
 
 " And yeour name is ?" 
 
 "Hill." 
 
 " 0, indeed ! I know a good many Hills livin' in Vermont ; 
 our head thresher's name is Hill, I swow. How odd ! There's 
 a goodish sprinklin' of Hills all over Vermont." 
 
 The comedian fancied for an instant, but only an instant, 
 that his name had "given rise" to a pun, but a glance at the 
 hard features of his friend convinced him the play on the word 
 was grossly unintentional. 
 
 " Well, how very strange I should know so many of yeour 
 name ! I shouldn't wonder if I knew people with yeour full 
 name. What might yeour Christian ?" 
 
 Hill saw what was coming, and replied — 
 
 " George." 
 
 " Is that a fact ? Oh, you're certainly joking. Why my 
 name's George, too. Wheeler — George Wheeler's my name." 
 
 " Oh !" 
 
 u Yes. Naow yeou were born ?" 
 
 " In Boston, ." 
 
 11 Ya-as, 'zactly so. Boston, Massachusetts, of CQurse." 
 
 " Certainly; Boston, Massachusetts — New England — North 
 America," said Hill, who, bored to death by this time with 
 inquiries, placidly settled down in the corner of the coach and 
 shut his eyes. Vermont was not to be thrown aside so easily, 
 however ; and contracting his sharp features — every angle of 
 which seemed to ask a question — he stretched his neck, and 
 said — 
 
 " S'kuse me, but wkat^a;^ of Boston were yeou born ?" 
 
 Hill's patience evaporated at that moment, and determining 
 to tie up in a packet every possible interrogatory, replied — 
 
 " Near the centre, close by the ' Old South,' about four 
 
256 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 o'clock in the morning, in the dead of winter, in Milk 
 Street." 
 
 Hill thought he had left the fellow no margin now. and judge 
 his surprise when he leaned over and said — « 
 
 " If it's not troublin' yeou too much, what side of Milk 
 Street was yeou born o?i, and what wtjz the number ? m 
 
 The comedian avows that after that "last stroke" he got out 
 of the coach, and pursued the balance of the journey on the 
 box with the driver. 
 
257 
 
 A YANKEE IN THE GOLD REGION, 
 
 When the golden sun of prospective California wealth first 
 dawned upon the republic of the western world, the mania was 
 sudden and intense. Everybody dreamed of riches, splendor, 
 and coming happiness. An El Dorado had sprung up as from 
 the magic wand of an enchanter, which was to confer blessings 
 on the poor, and add to the gains of the opulent. The talk by 
 day was gold ; the dream by night was of the yellow metal ! 
 America was destined at last not only as the u cradle of liberty," 
 but the inexhaustible mine to supply the world with dazzling 
 riches. Dissatisfied emigrants, who had sought the " young 
 country" with the view of bettering their condition, blessed their 
 stars of destiny for guiding their footsteps to the Ophir of 
 earthly hopes. Honest citizens, who had toiled along through 
 life, now foresaw the period when all their brightest dreams 
 should be realized. Artful speculators, big with ambition of 
 " profits," and fearful of " loss," congratulated themselves on 
 the approach of that " good time" which had been so " long 
 coming." 
 
 An immediate gradation of fortune was expected. Errand- 
 boys would bo clerks, and clerks masters. The race popularly 
 known as counter-jumpers would go out of existence, and assume 
 some other form of dignity and importance. Signs, on which 
 were shadowed in little bald letters the word, Retail, would 
 fade away and swell in pompous capitals, WHOLESALE ! 
 Keepers of candy-shops would no longer retail half-starved 
 sticks of slim sweetstuff. and <: make themselves ridiculous " 
 
258 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 behind a small stock of juvenile merchandize, but would cut 
 " this sort of thing," and loom out in a larger way. As for 
 street-sweepers, the " way" was about to be " paved" for some- 
 thing better ; and mendicants would go out of fashion, there 
 being no longer " need" of their begging. Who would drive 
 the carriages was a subject of vehicular concern, since every- 
 body was to ride. Where housemaids were to come from, since 
 all the petticoats were to be heiresses, was a puzzle to solve. 
 Who on earth would scrub, when all were busy with scrip ? 
 who clean up dirt, when all were scraping up gold-dust Indi- 
 gent young feminines, who were once happily content with 
 calico, and looked upon the gift of a u balzorine" as a god-send, 
 now conversed familiarly of silks, and even went so far as to 
 protest they would never think of wearing anything short of 
 " low-necked satins." 
 
 Very old people, who had long given up the idea of ever 
 improving their positions, now lighted up with enthusiasm, and 
 shook away their wrinkles in the transport of their hopes. 
 Young children, that had never advanced beyond marbles, now 
 thought those cunning stone toys were all very well ; but the cry of 
 " knuckle down" had changed to " down with the dust !" Tops 
 were left to spin themselves, while their owners went round the 
 Horn — the " top of the heap" being the great goal of expecta- 
 tion ; kites must take care of themselves, for their owners were 
 high-flying in the clouds of expectation ; battledore was at war 
 with speculation, and of course deserted in consequence ; rolling- 
 hoops were now out of the question, the extravagant thought of 
 rolling in riches had displaced the idea ; and as for "rattles," 
 the clink of ingots was to silence such inventions. 
 
 Such, then — perhaps fancifully interpreted — was the feeling 
 of all classes of society in regard to the discovery of gold ore in 
 California. The nation was up " in arms and eager for the 
 fray;" and preparations were made for leaving the quietude of 
 home for the eager toil for gold. The active enterprise of the 
 
A YANKEE IN THE GOLD REGION. 259 
 
 New-England people was soonest affected, and immediately 
 manifested itself in a mob of sand- washers, river pans, picks, 
 and other appliances for sifting out the precious metal. Joint- 
 stock companies were formed in the little towns, and machinery 
 concocted to carry out the golden views of the treasure-seekers. 
 The route to San Francisco became a living line of adventurers, 
 and the world had sent its deputation to look after the repre- 
 sented wealth of the country. 
 
 The down-easters, or, as they are more generally termed, the 
 Yankees, were first and foremost in the general search : but, 
 with all their enterprise and shrewdness, many of them were 
 doomed to bitter difficulties. 
 
 The glowing accounts had been exaggerated, and nothing 
 short of severe labour, added to " good luck," would lead to the 
 accomplishment of the desired object. These failures brought 
 into full play all of the characteristics of cuteness and " tarna- 
 tion smartness" among the Yankee adventurers, who, so long 
 as they had been defeated in the grand motive of their visit, 
 must turn their absence from home to some account. Here 
 wooden nutmegs and willow oats would not tell, as spices were 
 very little in demand, and live stock could subsist on the 
 luxuriant verdure of the plains. 
 
 Among the Maine emigrants was a sharp old fellow from 
 Bangor, who had sold off a small farm and turned all of his 
 ready cash into tools for turning out the treasure. He started 
 for the promised land basking in the sunshine of a certain for- 
 tune; but after remaining at the "diggings" some two months 
 without any fortune overtaking him, he one day threw down his 
 pick, gathered up his tools, and arrived at the conclusion that 
 this labour in vain would not do. He changed about in various 
 gulches, located on different rivers, and settled on soil that was 
 supposed to be teeming with value, all to no purpose. Ca- 
 pricious destiny taunted him witli unvarying failure. 
 
 But Asa Fuller was not to be cast down, and something else 
 
260 DASHE9 OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 must be found to answer. He wondered at his ill-success, when 
 less deserving persons all around him were stumbling over 
 chunks of gold as big as eggs. 
 
 " Never mind," said Asa, " I'll show them a yankee trick." 
 
 He turned over his remaining funds, and found five thousand 
 dollars reduced to the wreck of five hundred. 
 
 " This will serve my purpose," said he ; u I'll do it.' 
 
 Wandering up the Juki river, he purchased from a New 
 England company three hundred dollars' worth of rich quartz, 
 and keeping his purchase a profound secret, crossed over to 
 Sacramento City, and locating on a .small tract of land just out 
 of the populated district, turned up the ground and buried the 
 lumps of quartz. Then replacing the earth and carefully mark- 
 ing the spots, he waited the issue of his experiment. 
 
 An opportunity soon occurred for him to put in practice his 
 scheme. One of his neighbours — an enormously wealthy man, 
 but desperately mean and niggard — the very next day happened 
 to look in on Asa, and they entered into conversation. 
 
 The Yankee had seen him approach, and, hurrying out his 
 spade, thrust it several times into the earth, and seemed to have 
 just commenced digging. 
 
 11 They say," remarked the mean man, " that you're new 
 purchase has not turned out so prolific as it might." 
 
 " Yes, but I am very well satisfied with it," replied Asa, 
 turning up a spadeful of loam as if by the merest accident. 
 
 u G-old is very scarce, and near the settlements most espe- 
 cially," continued the mean man. 
 
 " 'Spose so ; and 'bout here auriferous land is worth its 
 weight in dollars," said Asa, with the removal of another clump 
 of earth. 
 
 " Yes, for Sacramento is bound to be extended past this dis- 
 trict" — and as the mean man spoke, his eyes fell on a lump of 
 glittering quartz that Asa had just turned up, but which the 
 digger affected not to observe. 
 
A YANKEE IN THE GOLD REGION. 261 
 
 The eyes of the mean man sparkled, while Asa was as cool 
 as a sherry cobbler. The conversation ran on, and in a few 
 moments another shiny chunk was as carelessly evolved. This, 
 as before, met the gaze of the mean man, but Asa failed from 
 design to see it. 
 
 A sudden thought seemed to strike the mind of the visitor. 
 
 " I say, Asa, what are you digging for ?" 
 
 " 0, jist for the want of somethin' better to do." 
 
 " Did you ever think of selling this property ?" 
 
 "Selling it ! N-o — not particularly." 
 
 " Do you know, I'd like to buy," said the mean man. 
 
 " Well, squire, what would you give ?" asked Asa. 
 
 "What did it cost you ?" 
 
 " That's a horse of another colour," replied the Yankee. 
 
 " Suppose I — it's a whimsical notion of mine, and I'm famous 
 for doing odd things — suppose I give you ten thousand dollars 
 for the patch — what do you say ?" 
 
 And as the mean man spoke, in the most casual manner he 
 crushed the lumps in the fresh earth with his heel until they 
 were out of sight. Of course Asa did not see this ; nor after 
 the previous offer would he have seen it for the world. 
 
 " Come, Asa, what do you say ?" 
 
 " Well, squire, I must think of it." 
 
 "You'd better make up your mind at once. Ten thousand 
 dollars is a big sum." 
 
 " So it is, but twenty thousand is bigger, 'cordin to simple 
 addition," idly said Asa, and lo and behold another small lump 
 was thrown glittering to the surface. Asa leaned on his spade, 
 picked it up, and turning it over, remarked — 
 
 " These are nice playthings to find now and then. I say, 
 squire, this is not bad to take — it's as full of the l gilt ' as a hive 
 is of honey. See !" and he handed the rich mineral to his ava- 
 ricious neighbour for examination. 
 
 " Yes," replied tho mean man, nervously turning the lump 
 
262 DASHES OF" AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 in his hand, " this seems a good specimen, truly ; but I 
 should'nt suspect there was much of it about here." 
 
 " Nor I, neither," said Asa, with the most unaffected inno- 
 cence of physiognomy. 
 
 " Well, don't you think you'd better accept my offer," pur- 
 sued Old Meany, now overflowing with a boiling desire to 
 possess the ground ; tt for," thought he, " if such slight digging 
 yields so much, what will a ' set ' search do ?" 
 
 u Come, Asa, I may get out of the notion ; you'd better take 
 me while I'm in the humour." 
 
 " No, come round to-morrow, and I'll talk to you." 
 
 But the mean man was not thus to be put off ; he was too 
 knowing for that — yes ! 
 
 " I'll tell you what I'll do ; it's clear to me I may soon want 
 this land to carry out a project I haye in view. I'll close the 
 bargain at once, and give yon twenty thousand <l<>//<rr$£oY your 
 right and title. Five minutes, now, to make up your mind;" 
 and the mean man drew ont his watch. 
 
 Asa affected to be callously indifferent to the offer; and after 
 a half-dozen " hems and haws" — such as poor relations receive 
 when soliciting succour from i rich uncle — finally drawled 
 out — 
 
 " I 'spose you'll pay back taxes and lawyer's fees ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And pint up the twenty thousand in hard pewter ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 u All right — it shall be yours." 
 
 The squire started for home to conclude the arrangements; 
 but as he was going he added — 
 
 " Don't you dare to dig while I'm gone." 
 
 "Not a spoonful," said Asa. 
 
 " I'll be back in a twinkle !'' And off the mean man started. 
 
 " This is not a bad day's work, ; ' soliloquized the Yankee, 
 throwing his spade aside, for he had no further use for it. 
 
A YANKEE IN THE GOLD REGION. 263 
 
 " The land cost me one hundred and seventy-five dollars, and 
 the " bait" three hundred ; this is a clear gain of a cool nineteen 
 thousand five hundred and twenty-five. And now I'll go and 
 take a private drink on my success." 
 
 The squire returned with the necessary " documents," and in 
 less than five hours the complete transfer was made, and Asa 
 had the " pewter" safely stowed away in four brown leathern 
 bags in the shape of gold dust. 
 
 His mean friend, on the strength of seeing his unnoticed luck, 
 had bought on a a spec," and went to working the land on a 
 magnificent scale, but with what success " deponent sayeth not." 
 
264 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 A STORY WITH MORE OR LESS SPICE IN IT. 
 
 A thousand droll stories have been related in which the 
 effects of spirituous liquors played considerable part. Whiskey 
 from time immemorial has been famous for creating " sliiii' 1 i 
 and if two-thirds of the rows of the universe were subtilly ana- 
 lyzed, King Alcohol — as Father Mathew christened it — would 
 be found to have a large hand in their outbreak. Every other 
 half-quartern of " something hot*' seems to have a quarrel hid 
 in the bottom. The exhilarating pop of champagne frequently 
 ends in the alarming pop of pistols, and the sudden production 
 of broadswords have been known before now to grow out of the 
 sparkle of the beaker. It is a pity that pale sherry anddi 
 arc so closely allied, and very abstemious people would tell us 
 that to avoid the effect we should shun the es 
 
 We are not agoing to moralize just at this moment, but here 
 take occasion to " return thanks" to the genius that " rules the 
 waves" of the lakes of liquor that are annually manufactured, 
 for so arranging it that fun as well as feuds frequently " come 
 out" of the bottle. Many a jest has been born of a jorum, and 
 the godfather of repartee is assuredly champagne. Charles 
 Lamb said that wit comes in with the candles, and we are of the 
 opinion that it makes its appearance likewise with the goblet. 
 
 How many taciturn men have been moved to sensible loqua- 
 city by the convivial passage of the " loving cup" ! for there is 
 no doubt that the best key to unlock the treasures of diffident 
 tongues in whis-key. The aforesaid very abstemious people* 
 will condemn this last sentence as an old joke wrapped up in a 
 
A STORY WITH MORE OR LESS SPICE IN IT. 265 
 
 base theory, and possibly may go so far as to not read another 
 line in consequence : however this may be, we must farther pro- 
 test that, in many cases, what oil is to machinery, wine is to the 
 intellect, causing the ideas to run easier, and preventing those 
 disagreeable stops and stumbles that bashful soberness icill 
 sometimes create. What armies of puns, countless as Pharoah's 
 host, have risen like so many jovial Venuses from the foam of 
 " sherry cobblers" ! and there is no kind of doubt existing in 
 our mind, that -if a quizzical narrative of all the queer hap-hazard 
 gay doings of this life were candidly written, a Bacchantic phy- 
 siognomy would now and then peep out like a wild and mirth- 
 ful mask during the recital. 
 
 This subject reminds us of an anecdote we remember to have 
 heard in " Yankee Land," of a young man that had but just 
 entered into the silken bonds of matrimony. His wife, a most 
 amiable creature, had a mortal hatred of liquor ; and though 
 Tom often indulged on the sly with his convivial companions, 
 he took care always to be "right side up" when he went home. 
 He would not have his wife find him in such a state for all the 
 gold in the universe ; and yet he could not sign the pledge of 
 total abstinence, from the fact of being the vice-president of a 
 club of jolly fellows, all of whom believed in grape juice. For 
 at least six months after his marriage, in the presence of his 
 "better half" he was as " straight as a pin," and she had set it 
 down that a blessing in the shape of a strictly sober husband 
 had fortunately fallen to her lot. 
 
 " Tom," one morning said she lovingly, " we have now been 
 a wedded couple half a year, and never once have I had the 
 slightest occasion to reproach you." 
 
 Of course Tom was delighted to hear his dear little wife talk 
 so encouragingly, and express happiness at his behaviour; and 
 he repeated assurances of his determination always to be an at- 
 tentive, sober husband. 
 
 But in the ocean of life how little we can foresee the breakers 
 
266 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 of temptation ! Tom had to dine that very evening with the 
 " Owls" (the ornithological title of his club); and he felt in ad- 
 mirable spirits, and his health was drunk warmly and frequently 
 after the removal of the cloth; the consequence was that by the 
 time the company separated he was in a happy state of elevation, 
 with a vivid notion of men, women, and all things terrestrial. 
 
 " Hic-c-c, I r-r-eally believe Fmd-d-runk I" soliloquized Tom, 
 poising himself on his heels, with his arm clasped endearingly 
 around a lamp-post. " W-w-hat the d-d-evil.- to.be done. Am 
 I d-d-reaming, or am I d-d-runk — which is it ? Will somebody 
 tell me ?" 
 
 A knot of wags passing at the moment, hearing his voice, 
 roared in combined tones — " You're drunk — beastly drun! 
 
 " There, now it's out, and no more than I s-suspccted," con- 
 tinued Tom mournfully, in a maudlin voice. H What will Clara 
 say — ugh ! Curse that last julep, I say — if it hadn't been for 
 that I'd have passed muster; but now she can tell it by my eyes 
 — I f-f-feel as if I had a dozen pair of eyes ; and as for ton-ton- 
 gues, I've got a score all wiggin' away for dear life." 
 
 Tom here losing a proper and important equilibrium, his 
 heels suddenly flew higher in the air than is necessary for every- 
 day cases of pedestrianism, and per consequence he was the next 
 moment in a most u - position in the gutter. 
 
 u Hie, hie. this is r-rich, I m-m-ust say. 'Spose Clara should 
 s-see me now — 'twas on-ly to-day she p-p-praised my in-in-tegri- 
 ty. Tom, Tom you're a b-b — yes, you are, so don't deny it — 
 you're a b-beast !' : 
 
 By dint of a series of vast efforts he succeeded in gaining his 
 feet, and proceeded towards home reeling, and talking to himself 
 all the way. After mistaking the house next door, the door 
 front of which was the same, for his own, he had an undecided 
 search of at least an hour for his latch-key. which he at length 
 found in his boot, it having slipped down his trowser leg through 
 a hole in his pocket. , 
 
A STORY WITH MORE OR LESS SPICE IN IT. 267 
 
 Now in the hall, he leaned up against the wall and undertook 
 a cogitation. He could sufficiently gather his senses to remember 
 the clock in his wife's room was out of repair, and as she had 
 retired, she would not be able to tell the time he had got in. 
 That was a grand point gained. 
 
 " I know what I'll do ; I'll go to bed in the dark, and then 
 she won't notice my eyes," ruminated Tom. But hold on — I'd 
 like to forgot it — she'll smell my breath — how can I fix that ? " 
 
 He puzzled for a few moments, and in the end concluded to 
 seek the kitchen, and meddle slightly with the spice-box. Down 
 the stone stairs he went, and after putting his hand into half- 
 a-dozen various fluids, feeling into a row of pans, jugs, and 
 dishes, at length he found a handful of cloves, which he thrust 
 into his mouth as if they had been so many sugar-plums. 
 
 " T-t-they're d-devilish hot," spluttered Tom, with his face 
 all aglow ; but they answer the purpose. How I wish Bob 
 Stiles was here, to tell me whether the brandy is sufficiently 
 disguised. 
 
 Satisfied that the fragrance of the cloves had out-odored the 
 scent of the " ardent," he mounted the stairs, and with the 
 exception of a couple of small stumbles, gained his chamber in 
 safety. Now he would have been indeed happy, had his wife 
 not been wide awake. 
 
 " Why, Thomas, how late you are," said she; " where's the 
 candle?" 
 
 " Oh, never mind the candle," said he, in as steady a tone as 
 he could assume. " It's not late." 
 
 " I should judge it was very late," said she ; " dear me, I 
 must have that clock fixed." 
 
 " Y-e-s, so we must," said Tom, with miraculous delibera- 
 tion, for one solitary hiccup would have betrayed him. As to 
 the clock's uncertain condition, it was a phenomena of good 
 luck for him. 
 
 Does it look like rain, dear ?" kindly inquired Clara. 
 
268 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 Now if Tom had been put on his oath, he could no more 
 have answered correctly, in regard to the appearance of the 
 weather, than the man in the moon, and not half so much, for 
 it is fair to suppose that if there be a man in the moon, he is 
 not addicted to the practice of drinking, and therefore keeps a 
 bright look out on tilings below. 
 
 He replied guardedly — " 'Pon my word I don't know, but 
 I'll look," and feeling his way to the window, he threw aside 
 the curtains, and a bar of pale starlight threw itself immediately 
 on his wife's face. " Clear as crystal, you perceive, dear'' — and 
 down went the curtain again. 
 
 Clara was very thoughtful and affectionate, and suggested that 
 if the curtain was kept up, he could see his way better about 
 the room. 
 
 " No, no, dear," replied Tom, very slowly as before, " I've 
 heard that starlight produces lunacy after" — midnight he was 
 about to say, but caught himself dexterously, considering his 
 situation — " and that's dreadful, you know." 
 
 Tom made several stumbles after this, and presently his wife 
 caught a whiff of the cloves. 
 
 " Good gracious, Tom, how long you are, and how dreadfully 
 you smell of cloves." 
 
 " Eh ?" said Tom, starting—" C-1-o-v-e-s ?" 
 
 " Yes, cloves ! — any one would think you'd been embalmed 
 like a mummy." 
 
 This made him twitch and go wool-gathering. 
 
 " Phew ! you're regularly scented with them. Where on earth 
 have you been to-night ?" 
 
 Tom was thrown entirely off his guard ; his brain rambled, 
 and without the remotest idea of what he was saying, replied — 
 " "W-h-why — hic-^Clara dear, the fact is I just been on a little 
 trip to the East Indies, and vjlule I was there I fell over a 
 spice-box.'' 1 
 
 This told a tale. Clara immediately sat up in bed and shed 
 
A STORY WITH MORE OR LESS SPICE IN IT. 269 
 
 tears. The cat was out of the bag, and we should not be sur- 
 prised but that a Caudle lecture as long as a charity sermon was 
 the consequence of poor Tom's unfortunate slip of the tongue. 
 He has never touched cloves from that day to this, and it is 
 probable ere long he will avoid the a bottle" entirely, his wife 
 insisting that every one that drinks must sooner or later keep 
 company with a subterraneous person, distinguished from the 
 rest of mankind by a remarkable species of tail and a " cloven" 
 foot ; this latter adornment would keep Tom out of his road, if 
 nothing else succeeded. 
 Most decidedly. 
 
270 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 AN OHIO WEDDING. 
 
 Without the slightest desire to be intentionally alliterative — 
 a euphonism of language at which the savcms affect to turn up 
 their ugly noses (for who ever did see a critic with a handsome 
 " handle" to his physiognomy) — we are about to remark that 
 extraordinarily odd things often occur in Ohio. Of course 
 we do not mean in that portion of the State nearest to the mag- 
 nificent river that flows murmuringly as a boundery ; nor in the 
 large cities, such as Cincinnati, the " Pride of the West," or 
 " Porkopolis," as the eastern editors call it. in sheer envy of the 
 billions of burly swine that are annually knocked in the head in 
 the neighbourhood. But it is in the little towns far back near 
 the borders, in what are termed the Lake Counties, where ridi- 
 culously primitive " goings-on" are enacted, and of which we 
 purpose to tell the reader. 
 
 Connubiality up that way is not made a theme of protracted 
 consideration, " long drawn out." Wooing is not carried on to 
 indefinite periods, and then timidly turned into a mere conjugal 
 job. There is an absence of all that fuss and shopping, brides- 
 maid manoeuvring, and honeymoon-ing. There is no occasion 
 for a wedding-breakfast ; cut-glass smelling-bottles at the altar ; 
 silks and furbelows ; orange-blossoms in the hair ; announce- 
 ments in the papers ; and the nine hundred and ninety-nine 
 items of nonsense which are all deemed established stepping- 
 stones to the temple of bliss. 
 
 There is no occasion for the bridegroom to glitter in smooth 
 kids and a satin waistcoat. There need be no purple suspenders 
 
AN OHIO WEDDING. 271 
 
 and gilt-eclged dickeys ; diamond rings are not demanded ; nor 
 need there be a white a choker ;" or, for the matter of that, any 
 throat-covering at all. There seems to be no wish for carriages 
 with superb trappings, to stand in magnificent waiting at the 
 chapel-doors ; no picturesque footmen with polished staffs and 
 powdered locks, to gossip outside while the ceremony is being 
 conducted within. The parson may officiate without flowing 
 robes and solemn stateliness. " Pomp and circumstance" are 
 wholly set aside as dead letters. Courting is thus carried on : 
 when the couple meet that " have a liking for each other," the 
 conversation runs — 
 
 u Sally, I love you," says Simon. 
 
 u Do go 'long!" replies Sally. 
 
 " I swow to man I do," insists Simon. 
 
 " Now leave off a-talking sich stuff, you Simon," retorts 
 Sally. 
 
 Perhaps Simon then plucks up courage and kisses his Dulci- 
 nea — perhaps not, according to the amount of courage he hap- 
 pens to own. Then he runs off to the rick, and she to the 
 kitchen. The matter is not much thought of again till after 
 tea ; perhaps the " old folks" have gone to bed; and then, while 
 the couple are sitting at least five yards from each other, Simon, 
 after a long silence, with his eyes riveted on the toe of Sally's 
 massive bull-hide shoe, again remarks — 
 
 " I do love you, Sally." 
 
 " How you keep talkin', Simon !" 
 
 " I'd like dreadful well to git married." 
 
 a Ain't you well ashamed of yourself, Simon ?" 
 
 His eyes are still on the shoe. 
 
 " Why there's no harm in that." 
 
 u I never heard of sich a tiling." 
 
 " Why you don't mean to say you're a-goin' to be an old 
 maid?" 
 
 " Not a-purpose," says Sally. 
 
272 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " "Well, you must be if you don't accept a proposal?" 
 
 "Yes, I know, but— " 
 
 " But you don't like me ?" 
 
 " Eh ?" says Sally, with a start. 
 
 " No, you like somebody else better?" 
 
 "It's no sich thing." 
 
 " I b'leve you've got a hankerin' after Peter Colson ? I 
 seed you look after him the t'other day out of the spring-house 
 winder ?" 
 
 " Why, Simon, may I be planted if you ain't a-gittin' jelus !" 
 
 " Pshaw ! you needn't count on me gittin' jelus about — " 
 
 And before Simon sees proper to finish the sentence, he grows 
 desperately red in the face, and all at once goes off to bed in 
 the dark, leaving his gawky love " alone in her glory" with a 
 confused regret of having offended the " poor feller \" amid which 
 is shadowed the knowledge that she ought to conclude darning 
 the heel of a stocking that lias been in an imperfect state in her 
 work-box for some w< 
 
 The following day Simon sulks whenever he sees Sally, and. 
 Sally grins, to the exposure of her box of ivories, whenever she 
 meets Simon. The next day, although he had fully made up his 
 mind that he would not speak to her for a week, he has to ask 
 her " where ,thc soap is ?" and then she relents suddenly, and 
 says : — 
 
 " You ain't mad, are you, Simon ?" 
 
 " Don't speak to me !" replies Simon, with an attempt at 
 dignity, which is so thoroughly rustic and unsuitcd to his nature 
 that it would not be recognized if the words did not afford some 
 clue to the expression. 
 
 " Why, I needn't mean any harm." 
 
 " You're crammed full of conceit." 
 
 " Why, Simon ! now thur, Simon, don't be a fool, Simon !" 
 
 This is said with the purest meaning, but the swain takes ex- 
 ception in his ardour to the word fool. 
 
AN OHIO WEDDING. 273 
 
 " Thur you go agin — I'm not a fool." 
 
 " I mean you're sicli a goose to go and git mad about 
 nothin' !" 
 
 " "Wasn't you in airnest ?" 
 
 " N-o-a, Simon, 'pon my word." 
 
 " What a pump I was !" 
 
 An immediate approximation of lips ensue after this mutual 
 unburdening of the spirit, and the matter all set to rights, they 
 jump up and down like a pair of fiddle-bows in a finale of one of 
 Verdi's noisiest operas. 
 
 Little odds and ends of courtship of a similar character occur 
 after the above style, and in the end they screw up their courage 
 to become " bone of one bone, and flesh of one flesh." 
 
 "We will adopt a different tense, and follow them on their mat- 
 rimonial pilgrimage — , 
 
 " Well then, we shall git married ?" said Simon. 
 
 " Jist as you like," replied Sally. 
 
 " Who had we better hire to do it?" 
 
 " Well, they say Squire Brown's as cheap as anybody around. 
 Parson Bertis is so much takin' up with his Injun Mishunary 
 S'ciety that he's never to hire." 
 
 " Well, I s'pose a squire kin marry as well as a minister. Eb. 
 Martin was married by a squire, and he was a-tellm' me t'other 
 day how him and Nance never hev quar'led — that's a good 
 sign." 
 
 " Shall it be to-morrow ?" said Sally. 
 
 " Ya-a-s ! we'll start early, for it's a good step over to the 
 Squire's. Now mind you git up early, and hev the cows milked 
 in time !" 
 
 The next morning, long before the most impetuous person 
 could expect the sun to look over the western horizon, the happy 
 pair were bustling in the gray dawn, hastening their morning 
 labour, and saying all manner of queer things to themselves 
 about the approaching event. Sally at length got ready to start 
 
274 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 for the Squire's. She was a long, gawky, snub-nosed girl, and 
 her bridal-dress consisted of an enormous flowered sun-bonnet ; 
 a yellow cotton frock ; clean tow apron ; and coarse shoes, with- 
 out stockings. Her hair looked as if it had been grabbed sud- 
 denly to the top of her head, and then flattened out for the sake 
 of ornament. Instead of ear-rings she had two black cherries 
 on one stem hung over each ear ; and her shoes were fastened 
 with bits of red tape, tied in convulsed double-bows. 
 
 Simon had a square, full-fed, stupid physiognomy, with lemon- 
 coloured eyebrows and light hair. He was barefoot and wore 
 a ten-cent straw hat, pepper-and-salt trowsers, a round jacket of a 
 snuff tinge, a tablecloth-looking shirt; and for a breast-pin, 
 which he deemed indispensable on so important an occasion, he 
 had crooked a large pin through the shank of a broad shiny brass 
 button, on which was emblazoned the head of some very ill-tem- 
 pered brute. This was stuck in his bosom ; and when the ample 
 folds of the coarse shirt-front did not conceal its appearance, it 
 sparkled in the early sun: fiercely. 
 
 They started off hand-in-hand across the meadows, over fen 
 and through the fields, by way of taking a "near cut;" and an 
 hour's brisk walking brought them to the door of the Squire, 
 at which they knocked. Sally had lost one of her fruit ear-rings 
 in scaling the fences ; and the lower part of her yellow garment 
 indicated the damp state of the fields through which they had 
 passed. Simon's button breast-pin had absented itself without 
 leave ; and a sly bramble had scratched his great toe till it bled. 
 
 They paused before the door. 
 
 " How do you feel ?" said Sally — u I'm all in a pucker." 
 
 " Gittin' married 's mighty delicate work ; and considerin' 
 I never tried it afore, I'm pretty snug, thank you! ; ' replied 
 Simon. 
 
 '• My patience, Simon — you've scratched your toe !" remark- 
 ed Sally, gazing at the long-heeled < ; pedestal" of her future 
 partner. 
 
AN OHIO WEDDING. 275 
 
 " I've no time to think of toes." 
 
 The tap at the door was by this time answered, and the Squire's 
 wife stood on the sill. 
 
 " Where's the Squire V asked Simon. 
 
 " Wat's wantin' ?" inquired the old lady, who was an enor- 
 mously inquisitive old creature. 
 
 " Me and her wants to git married," said Simon. 
 
 " Ah — that's all right ! he's at the barn, unloading some 
 Straw,'' continued the old lady. 
 
 " Kin you step and tell him to come round ? we're in some- 
 thin' of a hurry," inquired the bridegroom. 
 
 " I know he wouldn't be disturbed for a trifle. You better 
 go to him," remarked she. " Jist keep around to the left; then 
 take the long path, and you'll see the barn." 
 
 The couple did as they were directed, and found the Squire on 
 top of a cart-load of straw, with his sleeves rolled up, and the 
 perspiration oozing from his countenance. 
 
 " Say, Squire, come down ; we want you a few minnits !" roared 
 Simon. 
 
 " What's up ?" bawled back the Squire, removing his hat and 
 passing his shirt sleeve over his brow. 
 
 " Sally and me want you to make us one." 
 
 u Can't stop till I finish this load," replied the Squire. 
 
 " Do — we're in a hurry," exclaimed Simon. 
 
 " Can't — no use of talkin' ; wouldn't stop now to marry my 
 father !" returned the Squire. " I'll tell you how you can make 
 the time shorter though — jump up here and help me to un- 
 load." 
 
 " Shall I, Sally ?" asked Simon. 
 
 " Certin ! anything to make time fly," replied she. 
 
 Seating Sally on a large stone, he threw off his wedding- 
 jacket and bounded to t lie top of the cart. The mountain of 
 straw gradually lessened; and as eaeli sheaf was pitched in at 
 the large barn-window, the Squire asked a question — 
 
276 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " What's your surname ?" said the Squire. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean ?" remarked Simon. 
 
 " Your last name ?" 
 
 "Sittles!" . 
 
 " And your hull name is Simon Sittles !" 
 
 « What's your age ?" 
 
 u Twenty-five — goin' on twenty-six, next grass." 
 
 "Where do you live ?" 
 
 " With Amos Barton.' 
 
 " Where was you born ?" 
 
 u At Una, Marion County." 
 
 " Is your mother livin' ?" 
 
 « No." 
 
 " Nor your father, nuther ?" 
 
 " Ya-as — he's a fireman on a steamboat somcwhur on the 
 Mississippi, but I'll be crowded if I know whur I" 
 
 " IIow old is Sally?" 
 
 " Twenty-two." 
 
 " Is Iter parents livin' ?" 
 
 " She's a norphan." 
 
 By this time the last sheaf was u housed," and Simon jumped 
 from the cart, and resumed his jar-kr.f. 
 
 "Lead the bride here! 1 ' cried the Squire. 
 
 Sally ran her eye up and down her dress, to see that it was 
 all to rights. Simon doffed his hat, and the two stood behind 
 the cart in which the Squire stooped. 
 
 " So you want to get married, eh ?" said he blandly to Sally. 
 
 " If y — y — yeou please," stammered the bride, blushing up 
 to the roots of her hair, and hanging her head. 
 
 " Do you think it'll be good for you ?" he asked. 
 
 " Guess so !" said the maiden. 
 
 " Well then, look up — that's right — Woa ! . Bol* (speaking 
 to the horse) — jine your hands ; but stop — where's your wed- 
 ding-ring ?" 
 
AN OHIO WEDDING. 277 
 
 " By Hokey — I forgot that !" and a cloud passed over the 
 face of the candidate for matrimony, which the Squire per- 
 ceived. 
 
 " Never mind ! make one of this blade of grass — that'll do 
 jist as well till you can afford to buy one."* 
 
 A blade of stiff grass was made as circular as possible, and 
 the bride was instructed to place the third finger of the left 
 hand in it. She did so, and the Squire proceeded — 
 
 " "Will you love and obey this man ?" 
 
 No answer returned, when the Squire said — 
 
 " I'm speaking to you, Miss What-you-call-'em 5 will you love 
 and obey this man ?" 
 
 She nodded affirmatively. 
 
 "You must not nod like a sunflower," said the Squire: 
 "speak out." 
 
 ■■' Certainly I will, then," replied Sally. 
 
 " Will you protect and stick to this woman ?" asked the 
 Squire. 
 
 " Through thick and thin !" said Simon with a strong em- 
 phasis on " thick." 
 
 " Will you always be true to her, and never go galivantm' 
 about after other wimmen ?" the Squire then asked. 
 
 " Why how kin you ask that ?" said Simon, apparently 
 shocked. 
 
 " It's part of the form and service. Hold your tongue, and 
 answer the question, or I'll let you go half-married !" 
 
 "Never!" bellowed Simon; "I'll be as true to her as the 
 bud to the blossom.", 
 
 " Ain't you got baka in your mouth?" inquired the Squire. 
 
 He noticed that the bridegroom " salivated" oftener than 
 necessary. 
 
 " Yes — but only a small quid I" pleaded Simon. 
 
 " Take it out, sir ! I never marry a man with backa in his 
 mouth — it's aginst the law." 
 
278 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 Simon disgorged to the official's satisfaction. 
 
 " That's more like the thing !" proceeded the Squire, waving 
 a handful of loose straw over their heads. " Now as the clouds 
 in the sky and the boughs of the tree are jined to one another, 
 so do I pronounce you man and wife. Kiss the bride, and fork 
 over a dollar and a half/* 
 
 " Gittin' married ain't half as hard as I thought it was !" said 
 Sally aside to Simon. 
 
 " Come ! a dollar and a half is my fee !" chimed in the Squire. 
 
 " Can't you take a dollar ? money's dreadful skeerce, and it 
 didn't take you long ?" argued Simon. 
 
 " Do take a dollar, Squire !" remarked Sally, " you know 
 Simon helped you to unload." 
 
 " Well, considerin' that, hand out a dollar, and I am satisfied." 
 
 Simon handed over a dollar; bound up his wounded toe; 
 kissed his wife ; bid adieu to the Squire ; and walked off with 
 Sally on his arm, as happy and as innocent a specimen of Ohio 
 up country as the State would afford. 
 
279 
 
 EGOTISM'S LAST SHIFT. 
 
 "He'd shake hands with a king upon his throne, 
 And think it kindness to his Majesty." 
 
 Hallbck. 
 
 Of all the bores (and we never think of bores without asso- 
 ciating the name of Angus Reach with them — not that Mr. 
 Reach is a bore, but his analysis of the characteristics of the 
 class was so delightfully truthful) that infest the avenues of 
 society, decidedly the most wretched, painful and forlorn, is the 
 man on huge terms with himself — that sect of persons who are 
 ever overflowing with their own importance, and regaling their 
 conceit by pouring into one's ear at every point some matter 
 indissolubly connected with their own immediate concerns. "We 
 can pardon a moderate amount of vanity in a man like Julius 
 Ccesar, and have no wish to see genius so confusedly modest as 
 to shrink like a sensitive plant when it is approached ; but we 
 do object to hear a man's tongue perpetually wagging of its 
 owner, when there is so much else in the world to claim a share 
 of its action : it shows bad taste, want of judgment, if not ill- 
 brceding. 
 
 "We have a case " in pint," as the old settlers say. Mr. 
 Coningsby Calcutt is a musician and an author ; writes his own 
 words and sets them to music himself, with no thanks to looking 
 up a crabbed, meddling composer. He is a tall young man, with 
 a vast organization of whiskers, Phrygian cast of countenance, 
 and is careful never to be out of a change of neckcloths, of which 
 he claims a ken most mighty. Coningsby dresses well, has an 
 
280 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 acceptable circle of acquaintance, shows tact in society, and, 
 were lie not so overwhelmingly in love with his own abilities, 
 would really be a pleasant companion. This is the trouble. He 
 is always brimming with himself. No matter what hour of the 
 day you meet him — be it at early dawn, before the dew is off the 
 grass, or late at night, when the stars rally in brilliant array — 
 it is all the same. The old storj^ with variations — myself! 
 myself! ! myself! ! ! It is the mania of self-complacency — the 
 acme of egotism — the topmost pinnacle of imaginative vanity. 
 
 You meet him in the Visitors' Gallery of the House of Com- 
 mons, for example, while an eloquent member has the floor on 
 an important subject. The place, the time, the interest felt in 
 the debate — all, one reasonably concludes, would operate to 
 make him silent. But in vain : he contrives to edge in a few 
 words about his pet subject? You strangely encounter him at 
 the Opera — are so unfortunate as to get an adjoining seat to his 
 in the pit — and your fate is sealed. Every aria that is exe- 
 cuted reminds him of something he has just written or about to 
 write. Not Sontag's delightful voice nor the impassioned strains 
 of a llceves will quiet him ; and in the end you have either to 
 resign your place aud trust to the chances of after-accommoda- 
 tion, or be fretted out of your senses. Possibly you are over* 
 hauled by him as you are quietly stepping into the cathedral 
 door, in the face of the priest. It is all the same : his conver- 
 sation retains the old theme, and within the very swing of the 
 censer he chaunts the " fabled story of himself." Those who 
 feel an interest in him — which, by-the-way, are few — have c "n- 
 trived plans to get him married ; but he could not slacken his 
 self-worship long enough to declare an affection anywhere else. 
 His pop of the question would be a curiosity worth preserving 
 among the archives of the British Museum — so certain would 
 it be to contain an episode of himself. He draws pictures of 
 his face, writes letters a la Toots, and posts them to his own 
 name, and it is said has registered a vow to refer to his own 
 
egotism's last shift. 281 
 
 talents one hundred times during every twenty-four hours. 
 The vow, by-the-way, was needless, as the natural inclination of 
 the man would have impelled him to the sworn number of 
 allusions without the necessity of an abjuration. 
 
 It is the belief of those who know him intimately, that if he 
 felt an idea struggling for existence he would interrupt Hamlet's 
 moralizing over the skull of Yorick, or li button-hole" a bride- 
 groom on his way to the altar. 
 
 Ego et rex mens was attributod to Cardinal TVolsey ; and 
 our musical friend is a living perpetuation of the exclamation. 
 Sheridan and George Selwyn are said to have possessed the 
 faculty of ridding themselves of importunate friends by the 
 sharpness of their wit ; but it is clear they had no Coningsby 
 Calcutts to deal vith. Wit the most trenchant, and satire as 
 barbed as a javelin, go for nothing with him. 
 
 At length our hero found a shyness affecting his friends. 
 Good-natured persons that he had bored on a thousand occasions 
 put their gentleness aside and boldly excused their attention. 
 Highly amiable } T oung ladies who permitted his calls, now by 
 some remarkable coincidence were never " at home" when he 
 looked in. It was evident that the breeze of public opinion 
 was shifting to his peril. 
 
 " Never mind," soliloquized he, while arranging the hirsute 
 verandah beneath his nostrils. " This sort of thing is all very 
 well. It's clear everybody is jealous of me. Young ladies are 
 never in the way — their mammas fear the ravishing influence of 
 my poetry : I write from the soul, and they know it. The 
 masculines are all dying with envy because my talents are too 
 brilliant — that's it, without doubt. They think to prevent me 
 launching those abilities which cause me to shine in the world 
 of genius ; but I'll trick them. I'll hire an audience to hear 
 me talk of no one but myself — the burden of my theme shall be 
 my own capabilities. Yes, I'll do it. It will spite those who 
 envy me — those who are longing to possess my energies and 
 
282 DASHES OF AMERICAN LiVIAOR. 
 
 eminent intellectual advantages. Brutus was jealous of Caesar, 
 and stabbed him in consequence. I must be careful, or some- 
 body will poke a poignard into me in the dark. But now my 
 self-soirees will do away with the possibility of assassination. 
 I'll pay people to hear me talk, and stern jealousy will not 
 interfere in the matter. F m resoiv 
 
 Where to hold these "egotistic re-unions" was the next ques- 
 tion in the mind of their projector, and soon he settled on his 
 own chambers. His chambers would be better than anybody 
 else's chambers, as they would assist to carry out the character 
 of the design. And the audience — this was the most important 
 consideration ! Persons of considerable intellect he had no 
 doubt could be empanelled after the fashion of jurymen ; or, if 
 this failed, there was in a large metropolis like London numbers 
 of needy persons who would have no objections, for a small 
 consideration, to share the sympathies of a polemical admirer of 
 genius. The census list indicated a return of hundreds of ex- 
 cellent people who had no definite plan of livelihood. Many of 
 these were professional men without practice — briefless lawyers, 
 publisherless authors, and surgeons whom destiny had so be- 
 devilled as to prevent them from ever being "called in." Of 
 how many should the coterie consist ? Say nine, the number 
 of the muses, and the remarkable unit of the table ; nine would 
 be a comfortable figure to manage in case of disputative mutiny. 
 Nine was tacitly agreed upon ; and he then caused to be printed 
 the following document : — 
 
 " Boast Chambers. 
 " I, Coningsby Calcutt, musician, poet, and gentleman of 
 ancient lineage, having descended from William the Conqueror, 
 and still retaining a portion of that ancient monarch's blood in 
 my veins, I am happy to state, desire to form a coterie consist- 
 ing of nine intelligent men, who will assemble once every week 
 to discuss the current political, social, and artistic topics of the 
 day, and look upon me as their prime minister and head in all 
 
283 
 
 things ; for which accession of opinion and service, I will pay 
 one shilling per meeting (supper and malt included). 
 
 " One important stipulation must be, that I shall talk of 
 myself and my productions ad libitum^ and that the most 
 devoted attention will he paid to everything I may advance. 
 
 " Snubbs, sneers, jeers, or fleers not to be indulged in on any 
 account ; no sly winks, or laughing in the sleeve, if my per- 
 sonal comparisons be strong. Though I were to class myself 
 in eloquence with Socrates, in knowledge a Bacon, in courage 
 equal to a Spartan leader, and swear my virtues are purer than 
 were Agricola's, the inference must be gravely endorsed at the 
 peril of a forfeit. No prediction is to be contradicted, no 
 caprice denied. 
 
 " When a member has found a more profitable mode of 
 spending his time, a week's notice will be required ; when he 
 can retire by bestowing a mighty compliment on the ' Prime 
 Minister' and treating the remaining members with a pot of 
 half-and-half each. 
 
 " John Tobin and Halleck never to be quoted, for reason of 
 certain opinions they have irreverently expressed in certain 
 poems, which by no means meet my approbation. 
 
 " Notice. — I enclose the above hasty circular to of 
 
 . Will he consent to become a member at the above 
 
 specified terms, bearing in mind the stipulated conditions ? An 
 immediate answer will oblige." 
 
 Now to whom should these circulars be addressed ? He over- 
 turned his card-basket, and ransacked his memory. Finally, he 
 could muster twelve idle, intelligent, careless people, nine of 
 whom would be glad to pick up a trifle provided there was no 
 labour to be accomplished. He folded the dozen, and directed 
 them ; in due time replies were returned, and exactly nine of 
 the twelve accepted the overtures. It was an easy way of 
 earning the fractional part of a pound, to say nothing of a 
 
284 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 moderate supper, an amusing display of egotism, and the tolerant 
 sacrifice of an evening's sentiment. 
 
 Coningsby Calcutt is therefore happy. He holds his levees 
 as often as his purse permits, and rattles away to pensioned 
 sycophants at one shilling per head. He declares it the cheapest 
 and most certain method of commanding attention ; for no one 
 is so rash as to blight any fair flower of speech he may have 
 the hardihood to create. Paid attention is better than free 
 neglect, in his opinion, though Coningsby 's vanity ia evidently 
 on its last legs. 
 
285 
 
 AMERICAN Vv r ATERING PLACES. 
 
 "Watering-places in the United States — like birds — differ 
 somewhat in species. If an aristocracy is observable, it will be 
 found in the summer lounges, where the patricians seem to 
 brush up their sense of republican hauteur, though they may lay 
 it aside on again entering metropolitan brick-and-mortar. Why 
 a trip into the green avenues of nature should invoke a latent 
 or artificial dignity — as the case may be — we arc denied the 
 knowledge ; though certain it is that foliage and folly in this 
 respect seem to go hand-in-hand. We have known very indus- 
 trious, kind-hearted, innocent men at home to " change in a 
 single night" — like Byron's Prisoner of Chillon — to mere 
 human lumps of starch, with a ponderousness of self-complacency 
 truly alarming. They squinted over their cravats, and contracted 
 their optics, till, poor things, they seemed lamenting a perspec- 
 tive ophthalmic operation, and fretted secretly in consequence. 
 
 Like the British railway-carriage, we must divide the water- 
 ing-places of America into three classes — first, second, and third. 
 The first class includes a variety of mineral springs, rusty mai- 
 sons, leafy alcoves, and sequestered mountain retreats, in various 
 states remarkable only for being extremely out of the way, and 
 consequently never popular with the million. This delightful 
 fact is seized upon by the soi-disant aristocracy, who, tickled 
 out of their wits to think they have found spots where the 
 "vulgar creatures" never go, box up their kids, and whistle 
 their spaniels off to perhaps the most isolated, cheerless dens 
 that could well be imagined. This is the violent, purse-proud 
 
286 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 class, who, with a genealogical notion tainting their minds that 
 they descend from some blundering old swag-bellied baron, or 
 perhaps, when abroad, were entertained at dinner by a civil 
 English nobleman, take it into their heads to make laughing- 
 stocks of themselves by a perpetual exclusivencss ; the only good 
 coming from which is, that general society is but little distressed 
 by their tyrannical assumptions. The most poignant trouble 
 this class seem to have is to find people as good as themselves 
 with whom to associate ; and their whole life is expended in one 
 protracted regret that nature does niddenly fastidious, 
 
 and bring into the world only such supremely delightful people 
 as the bleared approval of their taste may endor 
 
 The second class come under the head of what is called in New- 
 York the " cod-fish aristocracy," or butterflies of Japonicadom. 
 These infest during the summer months such places as Saral 
 Newport, Sharon Springs, Niagara, Lake George, and the White 
 Mountains. Without the absurd superciliousness of the classe 
 premiere) they have their idl - of dignity, and peculiar 
 
 ideas of life, all of which they bring into full play the moment 
 they leave home. The heads of such families are most generally 
 harmless old gentlemen, who, after a long life of servitude to 
 the desk, have realized fortunes : lations in the staples 
 
 of commerce, or been favoured by the blind goddess in the 
 department of Consols and Three-per-Cents. But though their 
 nasals may be very high in the air, the second-classcrs are not 
 positively enclosed in a magic circle. There is still a hiatus 
 which can be entered; and once within the limits, fair treatment 
 can at least be looked for without apprehension of disappoint- 
 ment. Here, too, we find match-making mammas with their 
 daughters, manoeuvring chaperons, young gentlemen of leisure 
 just from an Italian tour, mousing bachelors of moderate incomes, 
 in white cravats and brown wigs, superannuated fops, fist young 
 men of reputed property, promising middle-aged lawyers, divines 
 of flowered and budding reputation, and in short, all the elements 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 287 
 
 of what in reality form the better class of the various cities of 
 the Union. Here and there may be observed an author who has 
 made a hit, a newspaper correspondent of a fashionable gazette, 
 and once in a great while a second-rate star in the dramatic hem- 
 re, who, having for half-a-dozen years continued to get his 
 name in large letters on the bills, has clustered a few dollars, 
 started forth with his eminence as a passport, in the hope 
 that society will honour it with a visec. 
 
 The third-class watering-places are the few days' enjoyment of 
 men about town, shopmen, storekeepers, the odds-and-ends, the 
 anybodies and nobodies of society — people who have just time to 
 take a " little run" and back, as if they were in pursuit of a credi- 
 tor, and anxious to hurry home with some intelligence either good 
 or otherwise. The very best of this order, and almost escaping 
 the classification, were it not for its proximity to two important 
 Atlantic cities, and the extreme cheapness of the conveyance, 
 superinduced through enterprising rivalry by unmitigated steam- 
 boat companies, is Cape May. The very bottom of the list 
 would be. perhaps, Coney Island, near metropolitan New- York, 
 which is during a short season of two months as grotesque a spot 
 as could well be conceived in any part of the world. This lat- 
 ter place is one sought for a piece of reckless fun — where 
 toilettes are neglected, shirt-collars worn or not, just as the indi- 
 vidual may choose, and where, seemingly, everybody is deter- 
 mined to be gay or frivolous, rakish or violent, just as the whim 
 may strike him. There are no upper or lower strata here. The 
 " one-person-as-good-as-another" doctrine is enforced to the let- 
 ter, and airs are punished with the same promptitude that the 
 knout is brought into Russian requisition when the Czar feels 
 himself piqued. Here there must be no cloudy ideas of superi- 
 ority, or creakiness of tread ; it offends the bail-fellows well met, 
 and these are perilous people to excite. Their very i_ r ;;i< tv is 
 danger here; and hence it follows that a certain jaunty loose- 
 ness of equality is the reigning characteristic which every comer 
 must, and is usually willing to fall in with. 
 
288 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 To better illustrate the local distinctions of the society of the 
 three sub-divisions, let us present the reader with an outline 
 sketch of each component : — 
 
 I. 
 
 The " blood of all the Howards'' inspire us ! AVe have a 
 duty before us, the daintiness of which would make point-lace 
 flutter, and cause the pa; terns on Singapore cashmere to dilate 
 with dread. Walk now, sans angularity ! and tread with a 
 speciality of step, to indicate your 1 needing. Let your mou- 
 choir be true cambric, and consistently : and your dia- 
 
 dems real. Give way to plush ; damn practical republicanism ; 
 talk of your crest; and keep your neighbours at a distance. 
 We feel ourselves aide to I lie task, and a drawing-room door opens 
 invitingly to us. But stop — where are \ 
 
 At Shakspeeta ! 
 
 Where on earth is So LKSPERIA ? 
 
 A select covey of the birds of adorable plum.". -sued 
 
 stock, and jointly constructed a series of villas, and formed a 
 fashionable town, exclush ely for their own entertainment. They 
 have purchased the ground for the area of a mile, and laid out 
 parks, drives, promenades and lounges, on which ordinary flesh 
 and blood must by no mean.- The stock is owned by 
 
 recognized breeding — people who have that in their veins that 
 will stand the test of analysis] Every purchaser must receive 
 the approving stamp of at least two-thirds of the club of direc- 
 tors, and by this refinement of precaution no dreadful wolf of a 
 parvenu gains access to the select fold. Contented luxuriousness 
 floats in the atmosphere, and little cherubs in sky-blue tunics 
 serve as hall-porters. 
 
 We have called the place Shakseekia ; and each tiny thor 
 oughfare is christened after male characters in the plays of the 
 immortal bard. The feminine names, from a capricious sense 
 of respectful condescension, apply to the residences. In fine, as 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 289 
 
 will be seen, Siiaksperia ia a spot of fashionable fancy, where 
 the severely- verified may move in a sphere of their own creation, 
 and feel remote from the intrusion of common-place vital ity, 
 that they hold incompatible with the happiness of human exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Let us step into the salon of Ophelia Terrace. It is a small 
 apartment, appointed in a style of elaborate elegance. Every 
 article of furniture contains a pithy saying of the play, from 
 which the character is taken that denominates the house. The 
 chair-backs are eloquent in sententiousness ; the velvet of the 
 conversaziones blush an expression of philosophy; the fringe 
 of the music-stool falls gracefully beneath a line familiar to the 
 world ; while the mirror-frame breaks into a reflective sentence 
 that has caused scholars to marvel at the genius that gave it 
 birth. On a column of veined marble, in a niche prepared ex- 
 pressry for its reception, is a bust of the Bard of Avon — not 
 the delicate, tapering, spirituelle cast commonly found at the 
 image- vendors, but a copy of the veritable bust in the chancel of 
 Stratford Church — a substantial head, without unseemly angles, 
 and rounding into a dainty double-chin of episcopal conform- 
 ation. Suspended by silken cords on the richly-papered walls 
 are two pictures of celebrated actresses, in the character of 
 Ophelia; while over the mantel is a delicious crayon of the 
 aforesaid young lady, evidently copied from a series of the hero- 
 ines of Shakspeare, and really executed with groat taste. A 
 number of Swiss views, a steel engraving of the Castle of Chil- 
 lon, and a few books scattered over a pretty, bright, walnut 
 chirFonnier, complete the most noticeable features of the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 A merry laugh was heard in the ante-room, and then a 
 mingling of voices. The next moment the door opens, and a 
 group of three ladies and two gentlemen enter, and dispose 
 themselves about the apartment. 
 
 A smooth-faced, Cologne-bottle looking young man, habited 
 
290 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 in a suit of black, with a bunch of charms hanging to a most 
 elaborate watchchain, and a mustache that assumes a change- 
 able aspect in every point of light it is viewed, with a gait 
 between a crawl and a walk, at length contrives to seat himself 
 on a lounge. His vis-d-v/s is a blooming young lady with very 
 blue eyes, the beauty of which she seems to be aware of, as 
 young ladies generally are, by the way. 
 
 "Ada, you've no idea of the magnificence of the Alps," 
 remarks the dandy, in continuation of a conversation they 
 seemed to have had before entering ; '• next to Niagawa Falls 
 they're the sweetest things I ever gazed on." 
 
 '-I should so like to go to Switzerland, Bluette! 1 ' observes 
 the young lady, with almost a sigh; " Pa h promising 
 
 to take us ever since we return . but mamma thinks 
 
 the journey will affect Hector's health, and she won't hear of 
 leaving him behind." 
 
 " How howwid !" 
 
 Mr. Bluette, among oth< r accomplishments, has a fashionable 
 habit of converting the - f variety, lie 
 
 is not a resident of Shaksperia, but a New- York exquisite on a 
 visit to the Dadlevs by i \ itation. 
 
 "Do you think that your mamma would consent to go, if 
 Hector was not in the way?'* inquires he. 
 
 u I'm confident. IsnM it too bad, dear Bluette?" 
 
 " "Why will you make me so happy by calling me Dear?" 
 says the beau, toying with an owl with pink eyes on his chate- 
 leine. " You're a provoking chawming creature to do it — that 
 you awe !'' 
 
 " Fie ! Mr. Bluette ! ; " simpers :'■ 
 
 Hector, the reader will be so kind as to remember, is a little 
 pampered, plump, long-eared poodle, on whom Mrs. Dadlcy 
 seems to have centred her entire affections. 
 
 " I've an idea, Ada dearest !" remarks Bluette; " I should 
 like to coax your papa to visit Geneva next summer. I'm 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACES! 291 
 
 going with Lady Fanny Bracelet, who is now making a tour in 
 the South ; and when she returns, if we could arrange it to 
 all go together, 'twould he delicious I" 
 
 " How charming ! that provoking, naughty Hector !" 
 
 " My deaw cweature," says Bluette, with more energy than 
 he usually managed to infuse into his conversation ; " I'll do a 
 despewate action. Don't be alawmed, now — Hector shall no 
 longer be an obstacle to your happiness." 
 
 " Good gracious ! Bluette, what do }'ou mean ?■" 
 
 " Never mind, deaw — depend on me, and next summer sees 
 us in Geneva." 
 
 Miss Ada is just in that particular state that young ladies 
 will sometimes get in. She does not know whether it is better 
 for her to remain silent, or prosecute her inquiries further. 
 Satisfied, however, that ' : dear Bluette" could do nothing very 
 rash, she bestows a glance of sympathy on her admirer, and is 
 about to go off into a sweeping denunciation of animal pets, 
 when her mamma approaches her. 
 
 " Ada, dear !" remarks Mrs. Dadley, bearing the doomed 
 canine in her arms, and speaking in a low tone, " Can't you 
 entertain us with a piece? Hist! Hector is almost asleep, 
 and a little music would so put his nerves to rights. Oh, Mr. 
 Bluette, would you believe that a ferocious tom-cat nearly slew 
 my beauty this morning ! He's been quivering like a leaf ever 
 since, poor dear ! Come, Ada, darling S" 
 
 u . Now, Mamma, how can you ask me? You know Dr. Mor- 
 tem said my bronchia was in a perfect blister. Now, Mam-ma !" 
 
 u I'm certain just one song won't affect it. Dear little I 
 tor will be so thankful!" urged Airs. Dadley. 
 
 " Hang Hector !" thought the young lady, and it is most 
 probable she would have urged her , had not Bluette in 
 
 a soft voice seconded the request in her car. 
 
 " Now, Mamma," said she, approaching the tabouret with an 
 affected ennui. " This is cruel, when you know the condition 
 of my throat. Dear me ! what shall I sing?" 
 
2&2 DASHES OF AMERICAN IJU.MOIt. 
 
 " That pretty thing from Si fetais fim" suggests Mrs. 
 Quiggles in a patronizing tone. u - I heard it in Paris last year 
 — one of Adam's sparkling efforts." 
 
 " By Adam, did you say, Mrs. Quiggles ? Good gracious ! 
 Low primitive it must be !"' drawls Bluette. " Not to be face- 
 tious at all, may I ask is the plot laid in the Garden of Eden?" 
 
 " Really, Mr. Bluette, how shocking I' 1 
 
 u Yes, I'm aware — but I never knew before that Adam was 
 a musician, though I always supposed that, like most other 
 ladies, Eve sung." 
 
 " Sifitdis Hoi is over at Florence's. Kate wanted to show 
 it to Georgiana Bradford, and ' Hermione Lodge' is in quite a 
 furore about it, 11 remarks Ada. 
 
 " For my part, I could never tire of the ■ bolero' from 
 Joanita : it's a great pet of mine, and little Hector always 
 seems to like it,*' says Mrs. Dadley. 
 
 " The serenade from Don Pasquale is my standing favorite," 
 observes Mr. Hooper, a rich Wall-street stockbroker — cold, 
 cunning, and merciless on 'Change. He would be called a 
 "trinket" of society instead of an a oroam< 
 
 <• I'm weak enough to weport in favour of a plain ballad," 
 cries Bluette, toying with the third finger of his left-hand 
 lavender kid glove. 
 
 " Good gracious ! Mr. Bluette !" cries everybody, save Ada, 
 " where is your taste? Dreadful !" 
 
 " Lady Bracelet assured me in Xew-York that they are 
 again growing very populaw in England. "When I take up my 
 flute, which is very seldom, I always toot the tunes and sing 
 the words to myself." 
 
 A subdued laugh around the apartment. 
 
 Ada at length hits upon a song, which she sings with consid- 
 erable taste and expression. It is one from Dickens's Bleak 
 House, by Jeffreys, of London, and flows gracefully to a melody 
 by Glover. Everybody is delighted with its charm i 
 city and sweetness. 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 293 
 
 " Bravo !" cries Mr. Hooper. 
 
 " Very fair !" exclaims mamma, observing that it has had a 
 drowsy effect upon her fat fondling. 
 
 " Quite admissible !" says Mrs. Quiggles condescending!}-, who 
 is a stickler for the French compositions. She adores Auber ; 
 and thinks Halvey a second Mozart. 
 
 " Consummate !*' drawls Bluette. The delivery of the word 
 occupies at least thirty seconds, and almost overpowers him. 
 
 When Ada resumes her seat, Bluette, who has been reading 
 his aunt's common-place book, strolls off into a strain as to 
 what we are indebted to accident, and contends that Pythagoras 
 owed the invention of music to the sound of a blacksmith's 
 hammer. 
 
 " Are there many balls talked of in New- York next season ?" 
 inquired Ada. 
 
 " I've not heard of but ten, and two of those are to be masque" 
 
 "How delightful P 5 
 
 u I shall go as a nobleman of the court of Louis XIV." 
 
 •• And I as a debar clew; changing to a sister of charity. I 
 like the lights and shadows in a ball-room." 
 
 " I shant't change — it's such a bore." 
 
 Ada is pretty and piquant t without being decidedly beautiful. 
 She is always Men diaussee, corflee, and that is saying consider- 
 able for girls in America. It is evident that Bluette is some- 
 what captivated, for he just dropped a " love-tinged" remark in 
 a low tone, which of course wc shall not be so inconsiderate 
 as to repeat. 
 
 Miss Quiggles and Mr. Hooper are still talking of music, 
 though the gentleman dues not know a flat from a sharp, except 
 he were severely tested in a business capacity. Mrs. Quigg 
 without a musical education, has been twice to Paris, and at- 
 tended the opera in various parts of the world, because it was 
 fashionable to do so. She lias a vague notion that the French 
 composers are the authors of every great work produced ; and 
 
294 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 consequently talks freely of Auber's "Norma;" hopes that 
 Grisar-will live to write another opera as clever as his ' ; Som- 
 nambula;" builds great expectation in Halevy, as he was the 
 author of the " Prophete ;" and regrets that Adolph Adam does 
 not endeavour to rival his own efforts in another '/ Don Gio- 
 vanni." Mr. Hooper knowing little out of his Pactolian sanctum, 
 listens to all these errors in blissful ignorance, and quite agrees 
 with Mrs. Q. in all of her views, operatic and otherwise. 
 
 Mrs. Dadley is holding forth on the shades of several pieces 
 of ribbon she has purchast d to adorn her pet's neck, and ex- 
 pressing herself very disrespectfully of one William Shakspeare, 
 because he said " Physic to the dogs !"' it being her opinion that 
 calomel and curs were never intended for each other. 
 
 Bluette dawdling from the hal masque co>. \t touches 
 
 on Byron, and thinks that Childe Harold, Manfred, and the 
 various heroes he created, were all very well, but that a single 
 remark he made in one of his letter.- surpasses anything lie ever 
 said or did. 
 
 " What was that, Bluette?" inquires Ada. 
 
 "He though; 30tt a vewy gweat cweature, and longed 
 
 to get ' tight' with him." 
 
 II. 
 
 The people that we are constrained to call the " second class- 
 ers" will feel themselves highly provoked at the classification; 
 but as there is no help for it, we must endure their anger, and 
 allons. We are forced to rank them thus, because with their 
 aristocratic pretensions, there is still that absence of severe ex- 
 clusiveness that draws the line creating. the division. Saratoga, 
 Newport, and Niagara, are all famous in their way. Little is 
 done beyond dancing, dining, bathing, and dressing. People go 
 here — at least there is a tacit understanding that such is the 
 case — for recreation and quietude. Of recreation, human nature 
 seems to differ. What is one man's bane is another's beatitude. 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 295 
 
 "We are inclined to regard the American watering places as social 
 conventions, where people from all parts of the country unite to 
 kill time in whatever mode may most agree with the temper of 
 the parties in question. 
 
 Newport is the nc plus ultra of the second order of fashion- 
 ables. It is looked forward to and talked of by the beauties all 
 winter. '• Our next season at Newport" is a consolatory phrase 
 calculated to allay griefs and banish sorrow. The last part of 
 June — when the opera managers are announcing their last nights, 
 and gay young gentlemen are seen in white paletots in the 
 parks — finds the pleasure-seekers on the wing. The " Ocean 
 House'' is a scene of confusion from morning till night. Stout 
 old gentleman with wife and three daughters in travelling dresses, 
 worn out with the heat, come tumbling into the great hall, met 
 by a black servant who pokes a register under the aforesaid old 
 gentleman's nose before he has yet got off his gloves. Now 
 arrives a knot of young bloods from New-York city, the major 
 portion of whom are walking canes and hah* — not forgetting the 
 omnipresent seal rings. Ah ! don't they intend to play hob 
 with the hearts of the belles, provided they have any hearts to 
 be tortured. Sombre bachelors, dashing widows, regular Lady 
 Clay Spankers, buxom and buoyant, marriageable daughters, and 
 just married daughters — for honey-moons are spent here by im- 
 pulsive couples who wish to plunge into a whirl from the mo- 
 ment the knot is tied — all converse and become acquainted, or 
 move in cliques to frown down on their neighbours, just as it 
 happens. 
 
 The attempt to keep up a fashionable character arid appear- 
 pearance of ton does not only last for a few days and then grad- 
 ually evaporate. They do not arrive with a frown and u. ; 
 with a giggle. The ladies from the first look well to their 
 toilettes. European travellers call them phantoms of P 
 but let th i yalpne for getting up appearances 
 
 when the I them. They may not have as many 
 
296 dashes of American humor. 
 
 fringes as a high-bred dame of the Rue de la Paix, or assume 
 as much lace as a Neapolitan songstress. Neither will the hair 
 be as artistically dressed as if done by a Boulevard hair-drt 
 or as many velvet knicknackcries about the skirt as a London 
 belle would contrive to attach ; yet with these absent adorn- 
 ments we can bespeak for them a '-goodlic presence." 
 
 The bathing periods of the da}' at the American watering 
 place present rather a novel feature. The beach for perhaps a 
 mile is skirted with small iil-shapen dressing-houses used during 
 the season, and standing all winter like a row of bleak, gloomy 
 sentinels as forlorn as Savoyard packmen. At eleven o'clock 
 in the morning, a number of sunburnt women in crumpled old 
 bonnets and careless costume, are hurrying from one house to 
 another with baskets of towels and armloads of bathing-dn 
 which they distribute with surprising celerity. Soon after, 
 groups of most fancifully people will be seen emerging 
 
 and plunging into the white foam of the surf, disporting with 
 the billows, and kicking the waves head-over-heels in a manner 
 enough to make old Neptune, or Venn iect committee 
 
 of Amphitl from their dripping mansion, and politely 
 
 request that such vagaries with the water be instantly discon- 
 tinued. 
 
 The spectacle is really a curious one. There are five hundred 
 bathers dressed in every shade and variety of color — blue tunics 
 over yellow trowsers, crimson coats with mulberry overha 
 moon-tinted pantaloons with jackets of purple. No carnival 
 ever presented so wild and grotesque a medley. Rome! aban- 
 don thy laurels ; and Venice ! hide with shame in thy own 
 gondolas ; for ye never produced so bewildering a saturnalia of 
 costume! Keeping, consistency and harmony are sacrificed 
 The very fishes must waggle their little speckled tails in curious 
 admiration, and the sun, ik the great orb itself,' 1 seems to wonder 
 what is going on, that man (and woman) kind have thrown off 
 the garb of common sense to revel in the motley habiliments of 
 agonized fancy. 
 
.AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 297 
 
 To see long troops of fifty and a hundred bathers all plunge 
 in the boiling surf hand in hand is an exciting picture. The 
 waves dash over their bright dresses, and the next moment they 
 appear dripping like sea deities after an elemental Waterloo. 
 This hydro-frolic is immense fun for the young people, espe- 
 cially when a timid companion shows a weak point in the water. 
 How they shriek when their mouths fill with brine, or leap to 
 the rescue if the strong waves should carry one from his feet ! 
 Some one's hat is floating yonder on the waters, one moment 
 dancing on the topmost wave, anon sinking into an abyss of 
 spray. Now for a race among the juveniles — away they go like 
 a band of young otters, plunging, plashing, and shrieking in the 
 wildness of the excitement, much to the horror of matrons and 
 governesses on the sands, who are in momentary dread lest they 
 get beyond their depth, to never more be sent to bed on terra 
 fir ma. 
 
 The lapse of two hours sees this gay assembly of bathers 
 seated in full toilette at the grand table d'hote. What a 
 change ! White neckerchiefs and dress coats instead of Man- 
 darin pea-jackets and Joseph's garment of many colours. The 
 ladies have laid aside their oil-skin head-gear, and braided and 
 curled their locks in the most bewitching of fashions. Saucy 
 little Cupids are pointing their arrows with mischievous grace 
 in every direction. A regiment of black waiters in the snowiest 
 of " chokers," and the wooliest of caputs, are on active duty to 
 bear off the " courses" — as a matter of course. Knives and 
 forks are up and doing ; plates undergo changes ; cpergnes 
 crowded with camellias and chrysanthemums prevent smiles 
 from being seen ; napkins are unfolded, and magnums of 
 Amantillado and Bordeaux lead to x'*>j pools in brilliant gob- 
 lets, much to the satisfaction of contented bon VtvantS. Joyous 
 young gentlemen slyly Ogle plump misses on 'tother side of 
 table, and sigh for a flirtation in that quarter, and mince a vol- 
 au-vent simultaneously. Brown of New-York espies Jones ot 
 
298 dashes of American humor. 
 
 Boston for the first time, and whispers to his wife that Jones 
 stands much better, or vice versa, than he did three "seasons 
 before. Table talk, piquant anecdotes, and curt critiques on 
 made dishes, % every — which — way, until the diners seek the 
 spacious drawing-room,-, where coffee will be served. 
 
 Now the pianos come in for a sad share of flagrant musical 
 abuse. Tall A'; of imposing stature, and pretty little 
 
 Parvulas, as piquai Be fancy little figures one sees on 
 
 French bon bon pap town and agitate the ivory I 
 
 Tip-top boarding-school Iran/ r< is, and love-lorn ballads of the 
 violent sentimental cast, form the main stock. Tinkling tor- 
 tures, with now and then an etude aa a relief, assail us on all 
 sides. Bitf . ments of Stabat Maters, bars of 
 
 popular tunes, and slices of dance music, follow one another in 
 confused BU 
 
 What a distinction in good and bad music. One soothes the 
 heart, and fills it with pleasure : the other confu 
 and agitati il, One is the invention of the gods, the 
 
 other of i! tnmend us to melody : remove us from dis- 
 
 sonance ! 
 
 The gentlemen. < r that portion of them who prefer what are 
 called manly 'pastimes, withdraw from the sal/e-d-rii<'n^rr to 
 the bowling and billiard-rooms, to tempt fortune at " ten- 
 strikes," and learn how often they can " pocket the red."' 
 When wearied here, they drop in late at the "hops" in the 
 drawing-room, with a fresh curl in their whiskers, and a pair of 
 kids that have not for a long time seen daylight. Midnight 
 finds its way along, as usual, after interminable dances, polkas, 
 tcte-d-tctcs, flirtatious, vows, promises, and engagements ; and 
 so ends the day at the Second Class Watering Place. 
 
 III. 
 
 Coney Island is the Napoleon of the third-class watering 
 places, from its approximation to the great- metropolis. It is a 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACES. 299 
 
 " convenient distance," and like all convenient distances, is 
 overrun the moment June denotes that vre must prepare for the 
 heat of July. It is the goal of a delightful drive from New- 
 York, whither every tradesman who can brush up three-minute 
 horse-flesh repairs at least once a week, to indulge in an hour's 
 sport. 
 
 Well-to-do people, therefore, go to Coney Island for a hit of 
 fun, while " the million" affect the surf from combined hopes of 
 health and pleasure. The beach affords a grotesque medley in 
 the season. Loungers, idlers, fastmen, rowdies, swellmobsmen, 
 police officers, fireboys, and butchers, all cheek by jowl, and 
 callously indifferent of each other. They are watching the 
 bathers plunging and curvetting in the tide — and most extraor- 
 dinary antics are to be witnessed. 
 
 We need not tell the reader that but few of the softer sex 
 are seen at this locale. The silver-slipper3 long since gave way 
 to the unpolished Wellingtons ; though now and then may be 
 seen the portly dame of a butcher, from home for a day, in 
 yellow satin, with a bouquet of hollyhocks, or a group of slipshod 
 daughters of Erin without any defined notions of propriety. 
 
 Coney Island's firmest habitue, is the New-York fireboy. He 
 is usually a thick-set, full-necked person, with a predisposition 
 for tobacco, and the usual indulgences that that popular weed 
 engenders. He wears crape on his hat. though lie may not have 
 had a family bereavement for many years ; a red flannel shirt, 
 blue coat, with large brass buttons, no-colored trowsers, turned 
 up three inches over the boot, and a neckcloth thrown jauntily 
 over his shoulders, terminating in a convulsive, careless bow, 
 which no other class of person could hope to accomplish. He 
 wears his hat — a broad-brimmer — over his forehead at a rakish 
 angle, uses strong anatli* ted or not, it does not make 
 
 much matter, and talks in aloud, unrestrained, reckless tone, 
 from mere habit. His expressions are peculiar to himself. 
 When a wager happens to be the subject of conversation, he 
 
300 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 freely offers to " bet his pile 1 ' en whatever he may fancy. He 
 calls a fight a " muss;" confesses if he did not enjoy the luxury 
 of a street row once in a while, " he would spile :*' terms, in very 
 un-Lothario-like phrase, his lady-love his ' ; Old Lizee," and 
 remarks (meaning that he will one of these days get married) 
 that a he's agoin' to be slung afore long." The object of his 
 adoration is the engine company to which lie belongs, or favors 
 with his commendation. It is perilous a word in his 
 
 presence that would challenge his opinion, as there is no point 
 on which he is so Irritable aa the merits of " de machine." It 
 is one of his boasts that be has been at all the great lires withiu 
 the past ten years of his life, and his wannest hope seems to be 
 that he may not miss those in come in the future ten. He goes 
 to all " de company's balls"' with his Dulcinea, it being the only 
 annual occasion in which he will consent to appear in white 
 s. He appetizes "pork and I regarding that old- 
 
 dish a great luxury, and bitterly objects to dining 
 "in courses."' Maraschino and curac,oa are out of his latitude. 
 ITe drinks brandy-aml-watcr. and believes it worth all ' ; de fancy 
 fluids" ever invented. 
 
 The drinking saloons at Coney Island reap an abundant liar- 
 vest during the season. The admonitions of Father Mathew 
 are exchanged for the examples of Father Bacchus, and a man 
 is not considered in ki prime order" until he has made several 
 excursions to Decantcr-dom. '• Come and take something" is 
 the popular phrase of invitation, and "something takeu' is un- 
 doubtedly the universal result. 
 
 The water revels here exceed in wildness any that can be 
 found in the union. Thousands rush and plunge into the surf 
 with the ardour of war-horses. The fireboys turn summer- 
 saults, duck each other, aerobatiae, play leap-frog, and flounce 
 about like a school of mad porpoises. Some, with no fear of 
 pulmonary distresses, and awed by no recollection of " rheuma- 
 tics," dash in with their clothes on, and come out dripping like 
 
AMERICAN WATERING PLACBS. 301 
 
 fountains. Wicked wagers and ridiculous taunts incite absurd 
 feats of aquatics which one would think mermaids and tritons 
 could only accomplish. Bottles of spirits are carried into the 
 sea and drunk while each bather is covered, like Tantalus, just 
 to the lips. Showers of pebbles are thrown into the air to in- 
 duce one grand and simultaneous dive to the bottom ; and in 
 short, a thousand wild capers are committed at this wassail at 
 the water. 
 
 There is very little done in the way of drawing-room gossip or 
 evening parties. The gist of the visitors " come like shadows, 
 so depart :" here this morning, and gone with the sun. Perhaps 
 those that remain may whirl through a polka-quadrille, or in- 
 dulge in a shambling hoe down a la quadroon. Moonlight 
 walks on the beach are by many per cent, too placid for the 
 Coney Islanders. Skimming pebbles through the white foam 
 may do for a change, but it grows wearisome after a few at- 
 tempts. To see these third-classers in their glory, they must 
 be viewed before Hesper kisses the strand. Night seems to 
 add an alloy to the general hilarity — the waves subside and the 
 boisterousness cools down. If you should ever take a notion to 
 see life in this quarter of the world, " go early," as the play- 
 bills say, and get a front seat. 
 
!02 
 
 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 COLONEL CRICKLEY'S HORSE. 
 
 I have never been able to ascertain the origin of the quarrel 
 between the Cricklcys and the Drakes. They had lived within 
 a mile of each other in Illinois for five years, and from their 
 first acquaintance there had been a mutual feeling of dislike 
 between the two families. Then some misunderstanding about 
 the boundary of their respective farms revealed the latent 
 flame; and Col. Crickley, having followed a fat buck all one 
 afternoon and wounded him. camC up to him, and found old 
 Drake and his sons cutting him up. This incident added fuel 
 to the fire, and from that time there was nothing the two fami- 
 lies did not do to annoy each other. They shot each other's 
 ducks in the river, purposely mi-taking them for wild ones; and 
 theu, by way of retaliation, commenced killing off each other's 
 pigs and calves. 
 
 One evening, Mr. Drake the elder was returning home with 
 his pockets well supplied, from Chicago, whither he had been 
 to dispose of a load of grain. Sam Barston was with him on 
 the wagon, and as they approached the grove which intervened 
 between them and Mr. Drake's house, he observed to bis com- 
 panion — 
 
 " What a beautiful mark Colonel Crickley's old Roan is 
 over yonder !" 
 
 II Hang it !" muttered old Drake ; " so it is." 
 
 The horse was standing under some trees, about twelve rods 
 from the road. 
 
COLONEL CItlCKLEV's HORSE. 303 
 
 Involuntarily Drake stopped his team. lie glanced furtively 
 arounci, then, with a queer smile, the old hunter took up his 
 rifle from the bottom of the wagon, and raising it to his shoul- 
 der, drew a sight on the Colonel's horse. 
 
 " Beautiful!" muttered Drake, lowering his rifle with the air 
 of a man resisting a powerful temptation. " I could drop old 
 Koan so easy." 
 
 " Shoot," suggested Sam Barston, who loved fun in any shape. 
 
 " No, no, 'twouldn't do," said the old hunter, glancing cau- 
 tiously around him again. 
 
 " I won't tell," said Sam. 
 
 " Wal, I won't shoot this time, any way, tell or no tell. Tho 
 horse is too nigh. If he was fifty rods off instead of twelve, 
 so there'd be a bare possibility of mistaking him for a deer, I'd 
 let fly. As it is, I'd give the Colonel five dollars for a shot." 
 
 At that moment the Colonel himself stepped from behind a 
 big oak, not half a dozen paces distant, and stood before Mr. 
 Drake. 
 
 " Well, why don't you shoot ?" 
 
 The old man stammered in some confusion — " That you, 
 Colonel, I — I was tempted to, I declare ! And, as I said, I'll 
 give five dollars for one pull." 
 
 " Say ten, and it's a bargain !" 
 
 Drake felt of his rifle, and looked at old Boan. 
 
 " How much is the boss wuth ?" he muttered in Sam's ear. 
 
 " About fifty." 
 
 " Gad, Colonel, I'll do it ! Here's the money." 
 
 The Colonel pocketed it, muttering — " Hanged if I thought 
 you'd take me up !" 
 
 "With high glee, the old hunter put a fresh cap on his rifle, 
 stood up in his wagon, and drew a close sight on old Boan. 
 Sam Barston chuckled. The Colonel put his hand before his 
 face, and chuckled too. 
 
 " Crack !" went the rifle. The hunter tore out a horrid oath, 
 
304 DASHES OF AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 which I will not repeat. Sam was astonished. The Colonel 
 laughed. Old Roan never stirred ! ; ' 
 
 Drake stared at his rifle with a face black as Othello's. 
 
 " What's the matter with you, hey? Fus' time you ever 
 Barved me quite such a trick, I swan 1" 
 
 And Drake loaded the piece with great wrath and indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 " People said you'd lost your nack o' shooting," observed 
 the Colonel, in a cutting tone of satire. 
 
 "Who said so? It's a lie!'' thundered Drake. "I can 
 shoot—" 
 
 li A horse at ten rods ! — ha ! ha !" 
 
 Drake was livid. 
 
 " Look yere, Colonel, I can't stand that !" he began. 
 
 Never mind, the horse ran," Bneered the Colonel. <; I'll 
 risk you." 
 
 ( ; rinding his teeth, Drake produced another ten-dollar bill. 
 
 " Here !" he growled, " I'm bound to have another shot, any 
 way." 
 
 " Crack away," cried the Colonel, pocketing the note. 
 
 Drake did crack away — with deadly aim, too — but the horse 
 did not miud the bullet in the least. To the rage and unutter- 
 able astonishment of the hunter, old Roan looked him right in 
 the face, as if he rather liked the fun. 
 
 " Drake," cried Sam, " you're drunk ! A horse at a dozen 
 rods — oh, my eye I" 
 
 " Just you shut your mouth or I'll shoot 3-011!" thundered the 
 excited Drake. " The bullet was hollow, I'll swear. The man lies 
 says I can't shoot ! Last week I cut off a goose's head at 
 fifty rods, and kin dew it again. By the Lord Harry, Colonel, 
 you can laugh, and I'll bet now thirty dollars I can bring down 
 old Roan at one shot." 
 
 The wager was readily accepted. The stakes were placed in 
 Sam's hands. Flated with the idea of winning back his two 
 
m 
 
 
 
 'Mm 
 
 
COLONEL CRICKLEY'S HORSE. 305 
 
 tens and making another ten into the bargain, Drake carefully 
 selected a perfect ball, and even backskin patch, and beaded his 
 rifle. 
 
 It was now nearly dark, but the old hunter boasted of being 
 able to shoot a bat on the wing by starlight, and without hesi- 
 tation, he drew a clear sight on old Roan's head. 
 
 A minute later, Drake was driving through the grove, the 
 most enraged, the most desperate of men. His rifle, innocent 
 victim of his ire, lay with broken stock on the bottom of the 
 wagon. Sam Barston was too much frightened to laugh. 
 Meanwhile the gratified Colonel was rolling on the ground con- 
 vulsed with mirth, and old Roan was standing undisturbed 
 under the trees. 
 
 "When Drake reached home, his two sons, discovering his ill- 
 humour and the mutilated condition of his rifle-stock, hastened 
 to arouse his spirit with a piece of news, which they were sure 
 would make him dance for joy. 
 
 " Clear out," growled the angry old man. " I don't want to 
 hear any news ; get away, or I shall knock one of you down." 
 
 " But, father, it's such a trick." 
 
 " Confound you and your tricks." 
 
 " Played off on the Colonel." 
 
 " On the Colonel ?" cried the old man, beginning to be in- 
 terested. " Gad, if you've played the Colonel a trick, let's 
 hear it." 
 
 " "Well, father, Jed and I, this afternoon, went out for 
 deer—" 
 
 " Hang the deer ! come to the trick." 
 
 u Couldn't find any deer, but thought wo must shoot some- 
 thing ; so Jed banged away at the Colonel's old Roan — shot 
 him dead !" 
 
 "Shot old Roan?" thundered the hunter, "By the Lord 
 Harry, Jed, did yon shoot the Colonel's hoss ?" 
 
 " True, sir, true." 
 
306 DASHES OP AMERICAN HUMOR. 
 
 " Devil ! — devil !" groaned the hunter. 
 
 " And then," pursued Jed, confident the joke part of tne 
 story must please his father, " Jim and I propped the hoss up, 
 and tied his head back with a cord, and left him standing under 
 the trees exactly as if he waa alive. TIa ! ha ! Fancy the 
 Colonel going to catch him ! Ho ! ho ! ho ! — wan't it a joke ?'' 
 
 Old Drake's head fell upon his breast. He felt of his empty 
 pocket-book, and looked at his broken rifle. Then, in a rueful 
 tone, ho whispered to the boys — 
 
 " It is a joke ! But if you ever tell of it — or if you do, Sam 
 Barston — I'll skin you alive ! By the Lord Harry, boys, I've 
 boon shooting at that dead boss half an hour, at ten dollars a 
 shol !'' 
 
 .V ilint moment Sam foil into the gutter. Jed dragged him 
 out insensible, Sam had laughed himself almost t<» death. 
 
 i'lii: EXD. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
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