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 The Property 
 
 of 
 
 FRIEXD : This book I gladly lend to thee 
 
 To read, to study not to lend ! 
 
 But to return again to me. 
 
 Read slowly, pause frequently. 
 
 And return duly, 
 
 With the corners of the leaves not turned down
 

 
 iJhttj- ><r?
 
 COM CUT CORNERS: 
 
 EXPERIENCES OF A CONSERVATIVE FAMILY 
 
 IN FANATICAL TIMES; 
 
 SOME ACCOTTNT OF 
 
 A CONISTECTICUT VILLAGE, THE PEOPLE WHO LIVED IN IT, 
 AND THOSE WHO CAME THERE FKOM THE CITY. 
 
 BY BENATJLY. . 
 
 NEW YOEK: 
 MASON BROTHERS, 
 
 PARK ROW.
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1855, by 
 
 MASON BROTHERS, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. 
 
 ELECTROTTED BY PRINTED BY 
 
 THOMAS B. SMITH, JOHN A. GRAY, 
 
 82 & 84 Beekman St. 97 Cliff St.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 HEADER, will you take a glass of bitters before 
 dinner ? 
 
 In other words, will you listen to a few words 
 of serious conversation before a novel ? 
 
 If you will, we shall be glad of the opportunity 
 to say somewhat of the character and purpose of 
 this work. 
 
 Cone Cut Corners is a story of American life. 
 Its scenes lie in American cities and villages, and its 
 moral is an American moral. It is hoped that the 
 reader may find in it an introduction to many pleas- 
 ant friends, and perhaps, become sufficiently ac- 
 quainted to recognize them, if he should ever meet 
 them hereafter in real life ; and that he may from 
 it derive some amusement, some instructive sug- 
 gestion, some sympathy for those who are burdened 
 
 2063456
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 * 
 
 \vitli tlieir constitutional liberties, and some sources 
 of confidence and hope in respect to the future of 
 such. 
 
 But a story of American life can not safely 
 ignore the faults and follies of American life ; if 
 it were to do so, its power to sanction the virtues, 
 and the freshness and strength of that life, would 
 fall to the ground. 
 
 And a story which has the teaching of truth for 
 its object, can not safely forget that there is such a 
 thing as error. 
 
 It is said that History is Philosophy teaching by 
 example. In Fiction, it is sometimes necessary that 
 Philosophy should teach by bad examples. There 
 are, therefore, some bad examples exhibited in Cone 
 Cut Corners ; but the careful reader will find that 
 Philosophy has always a purpose in their exhibition. 
 
 Let us also disavow any unkindly feeling in 
 these memoirs. If any where the current of the 
 narrative trenches upon delicate ground, if we have 
 in any case too liberally employed actual and not 
 yet forgotten incidents, or have too freely painted 
 from living models, we trust that those who are 
 sensitive to these features of the work, will not en- 
 tirely condemn it on this account ; since, after all,
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 without these, the full lesson of the history could 
 not have been evolved. 
 
 By way of more detailed explanation, it may be 
 confessed that we anticipate some criticism from 
 several of our friends and acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Stuccuppe will notice her name in these 
 pages, as she turns over the new books in the course 
 of some morning's shopping, a few weeks hence, and 
 on that account will take the work home with her, 
 and in the Stuccuppe family carriage ; oh ! what 
 an honor. But she will regard it as a low and even 
 vulgar book ; not, indeed, in a moral sense, but so- 
 cially speaking, since it introduces her unawares to 
 many rough country people, to tradesfolk, and to 
 many of those lower orders who do labor for their 
 living. Nor will any redeeming feature of the book 
 be recognized in the Stuccuppe mansion, except 
 that Mr. S. may commend the expose here made of 
 the hollowness of the Chesslebury estates, and of 
 the manner in which that family maintained their 
 pretensions to rank in the upper circles of society. 
 
 The ex-deacon, Mr. Ficksom, would probably 
 never see the book, except that we shall send him a 
 presentation copy. He will read it through, chiefly 
 on Sunday afternoons, and pronounce it irreverent.
 
 VI PKEFACE. 
 
 We know lie will say this, for we have noticed that 
 the man who eats least of the kernel of the nut, 
 always has most leisure to grit his teeth against the 
 shell. 
 
 Miss Provy Pease will adjudge the whole a gos- 
 siping mass of rubbish ; and will take the greater 
 interest in it on that very account. 
 
 Messrs. Bagglehall & Co. will denounce the book 
 as personal and libelous ; in which sentiment the 
 late lamented Mr. Floric would undoubtedly join, 
 had he been longer spared. 
 
 But Mr. Mayferrie what will he say ? He will 
 read the volume with attention ; it may bring a tear 
 to his eye, but never a flush to his heart. For we 
 know the nobility of his nature so well, that we 
 already hear him saying, as he lays it down, borrow- 
 ing the language of Mr. Eundle : 
 
 " Do not spare my example, if it can do them 
 good." 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS, CONN., 
 1st June, 1855.
 
 DIRECTORY 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 December, 1836. PAGE 
 CONE CUT COENEE9 13 
 
 'f-. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 December, 1835. 
 
 HON. LAFAYETTE CHESSLEBURY, 3T WASHINGTON SQUARE, NEW 
 YORK 23 
 
 * * * 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 June, 1835. 
 
 JOHN MAYFERRIE. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 December, 1835. 
 GREGORY DONOE; ENTERTAINMENT FOR MAN AND BEAST.... 45 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 December, 1835. 
 SALANDA.... 59
 
 Viii DIRECTORY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 January and June, 1S86. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 March, 1843. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT CET. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 From the landing of the Pilgrims, downward. 
 BY THE NAME OF_CHESSLEBUBY 95 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 August, 1847. 
 
 OF HAGGLE AND CHANGE; DEY-GOODS ESTABLISHMENT, 
 319 BROADWAY ... 101 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 September, 1S47. 
 CONE CUT ACADEMY.... ... 118 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 September, 184T. 
 INTRODUCING ME. JASON L. CHESSLEBUEY.... ... 123 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 January, 1843. 
 A TEMPEEANCE MEETING IN THE BUNGANOCK DISTRICT 181
 
 DIRECTORY. IX 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 September, 1861. PAGE 
 
 LAFAYETTE CHESSLEBURY; COUNSELOR, &c. t BACK OFFICE, 
 UP STAIES , 148 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " October, 1851. 
 "WANTED, A SITUATION 151 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 October, 1851. 
 MRS. BUNDLE; GLOVES AND HOSIERY 159 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 October, 1851. 
 
 SOUTH SIDE MADEIRA; 1S20. IMPORTED BY BAGGLEHALL, 
 FLORIC & CO. in 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 October, 1851. 
 
 MRS. LAFAYETTE CHESSLEBURY AT HOME WEDNESDAY EVEN- 
 ING. ... 185 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 October, 1851. 
 NIGHT THOUGHTS 199 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. , 
 
 October, 1851. 
 DEAD PAPERS.... ... 209
 
 X DIRECTORY. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 November, 1S5L PAGE 
 
 STATE OF MAINE.... ... 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 January, 1862. 
 TO THE EEV. E. L. GRAYNES.... 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 July, 1852. 
 INDEPENDENCE . . . ... 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 July, 1S52. 
 COLD WATER.... ... 2S3 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 August, 1852. 
 PRIVATE: TO BE BURNED UNOPENED 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 August, 1852. 
 THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH. ... 815 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 October, 1852. 
 PAUL BUNDLE, M.D.JSF.
 
 DIRECTORY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 December 81, 1852 
 January 1, 1853. 
 
 BEOADWAY AND FIFTH AVENUE 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 May, 1854. 
 CITIZENS, TO THE EESCUE 861 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 September, 1854. 
 
 CONFIDENTIAL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 November, 1854. 
 FEOM THE MEDICAL COLLEGE.... 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 To June 1, 1855. 
 TO CLOSE THE CONCEBN .... . . . 42T
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS, 
 
 i. 
 
 DECEMBER, 1885. 
 
 IT was bitter cold, 
 go cold, that in 
 the sky the sentry 
 stars stood hesitat- 
 ing, shivering at 
 their posts, afraid to 
 
 leave before the coming of the sun, yet evincing by their 
 chilly twinkle how readily they might desert; and turning, 
 now and then, a wistful glance toward their more Eastern 
 brethren~who had made a sally out upon a passing cloud, 
 caught it, and made a blanket of it on the spot.
 
 14 CONECUTCOHXERS. 
 
 Sp cold, that on the surface of the earth below, ther shiver- 
 ing snow-flakes hurried home. Some buried themselves in 
 beds a hundred thousand deep, to keep each other warm. 
 Some hid away in sheltered nooks and corners, seeking a 
 refuge from the freezing blast. The few, who at that late hour 
 were still without a resting-place, hurried along before the 
 breeze, each striving with frantic zeal to forestall his brother 
 in the warmest place. Poor fools ! They knew not that they 
 competed for destruction ; that the first pastime ^of the 
 warmth they sought would be the dissolution of themselves. 
 
 So cold, that the infant waterfall, in the petty brook that 
 ran across the road, had pulled its icy coverlid fairly up over 
 its babbling mouth, and thus snugged away in its bed, was 
 singing itself with stifled lullaby to sleep. 
 
 So cold, that the winter wind, although well used to run of 
 errands most on shivery nights, could bear the tingling chill 
 without no longer, but came sighing, moaning round the 
 house, seeking at every crack and crevice an entrance, hoping 
 to warm itself at the fire within. 
 
 So very cold, that where upon the window-pane within the 
 house, a valiant horde of well-armed dwarfs and fairies had 
 marched forth with bold hearts, stout arms, and every style 
 of magic shield and weapon to do fierce battle with some 
 foreign foe, they had been stricken dead upon the glass, and 
 stood there making idle mockery of war. 
 
 The house itself, ensconced beneath a hill, and half wrapped 
 up at all exposed points in drifted snow, looked sheltered. 
 The cold wind sighed around it unheeded. The moon, sim- 
 ple-hearted creature, threw her rays upon it, striving in vain 
 to warm the atmosphere which the sun at noon could scarcely
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 15 
 
 raise up to the freezing point. From one chimney a light 
 cloud of smoke rose up. It seemed a gentle breath ; and was 
 almost the only sign which showed the dwelling was reposing 
 in a quiet sleep not dead. 
 
 Not far beyond, stood another house no less quiet than the 
 first. And following on, around a curve in the road, one 
 came quite suddenly upon a cluster of dwellings forming quite 
 a country village. Had they been a flock of sheep lain down 
 to rest, they could not have huddled themselves together more 
 irregularly and yet sociably. The village church, the patri- 
 arch of the flock, wearing the ancient token of leadership 
 common among sheep, a bell, rested among his comrades. 
 They thronged about him closely. In quiet confidence, in 
 peace, in atmospheric coldness, but in social and moral 
 warmth, the village slept. 
 
 The house beneath the hill, alone showed signs of activity 
 and life. The little gate, as if conscious that the labor of the 
 day was not quite performed, stood open still. From a win- 
 dow here and there, as from a bright and wakeful eye, 
 streamed rays of a warm light. Tied to a post before the 
 door stood a shabby gray horse a doctor's horse and at 
 the door stood the doctor himself. Wrapped up 'in his great 
 buffalo coat, he looked like a huge cigar not quite put out 
 either, if one could trust the cloud of what looked like smoke, 
 which issued from his mouth, or allowed himself to be de- 
 ceived by the semblance of ashes put on by the snow en- 
 crusted upon his cap. 
 
 The doctor opened the door, causing an agonized shriek of 
 certain snow-flakes which had ensconced themselves about 
 its hinges, and went in.
 
 16 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 Into an entry, a little entiy one third table, one third 
 door-mat, one third front stairs. 
 
 Through another door, and into another room. A low 
 studded room, with a brown ceiling and a yellow painted 
 floor ; with a bright wood-fire blazing in the huge stone fire- 
 place, and a colony of cane-bottomed chairs about it ; with 
 an astronomical chart hanging up on one side, with gods and 
 goddesses, lions, bears, serpents, scorpions, in general melee, 
 and a perpetual almanac calculated for centuries, on the 
 other, which no one knew how to use, and which conse- 
 quently never indicated any thing to any body. A vase of 
 crystalized grasses a cold and cheerless ornament stood on 
 one end of the mantle-piece, and a pitcher and tea-cup on 
 the other. The only person in the room was a woman, who 
 was stooping over the fire, shading her face with one hand, 
 while she stirred some mixture which she was preparing, with 
 the other. As the doctor entered the room, she raised her 
 head and showed a face very large, very round, and very red ; 
 this latter might have been the effect of stooping over tin.- 
 fire, not her natural complexion. She also exhibited an in- 
 cipient whisker and symptoms of a mustache. 
 
 " Good evening, doctor," said she, " I 'm glad you Ve come. 
 You 're needed." 
 
 Her voice would have frightened a less courageous man 
 than the doctor. It sounded so little like a lady, and so 
 much like a bassoon. 
 
 " Good evening, Miss Boggs," said the doctor. 
 
 As he said this he walked up to the fire, drew UD an old 
 arm-chair, and put his snowy feet upon the andirons. He sat 
 there watching the fire with a thoughtful eye until the snow
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 was melted off, and its vain hissing and spluttering had ceased. 
 He then got up, pulled his pantaloons out of his boots, and 
 smoothed them down outside, unbuttoned his overcoat, took 
 it off, laid it carefully over the back of the chair, unfastened 
 his fur cap and put it on the mantle-piece, ran his fingers 
 once or twice through his hair, and brushed the snow from 
 his bushy whiskers. All this with great deliberation. He 
 then took a coat-tail in each hand affectionately, and bringing 
 the ends before him pointing at the window, with his back 
 toward the fire, he addressed himself to conversation. 
 
 " And how do you do, Mother Nancy ?" said he. 
 
 " Healthy," said she ; " healthy. Allers healthy." 
 
 It was a most astonishing voice she had. It seemed to 
 pervade the whole room, and its resonance floated in the air 
 after she had spoken, as do the echoes of the ocean in a sea- 
 shell. 
 
 "And what," said the doctor, "is the matter with Miss 
 Provy ?" 
 
 " Miss Provy !" repeated Mother Nancy. " Lor' bless you ! 
 it is n't her." 
 
 She looked up as she said it, with a slight smile in the cor- 
 ners of her ample mouth, and a genial twinkle in her eye. 
 
 " Not Miss Provy !" said the doctor in surprise. " Surely 
 it can't be Calick." 
 
 " Well, no ! not Calick," said she. 
 
 The smile made further encroachments on the cheek. 
 
 " Who is it, then ?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " It 's a woman," said Mother Nancy, " and a " 
 
 " Well," said the doctor, dryly, " go on." 
 
 " It 's a woman," continued Mother Nancy, " that Calick
 
 18 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 picked up to-day on the road. She asked him for a ride, and 
 of course he give her a ride as far as he was a going, and 
 when he got here, about supper time, of course he brought 
 her in and give her some supper, and then she wanted to stay 
 here and sleep ; and of course they give her a bed ; the best 
 room in the house too, bless 'em, if she was a crazy woman ; 
 and then they sent for me to come and nuss her, being both 
 sick and crazy ; and when I come and told 'em what the 
 matter was, which I saw at once-t, being some experienced in 
 such matters, they Sent for you, and so both you and I are 
 here, and I guess now that you know pretty much about it, 
 all that I or any body else does. There 's Calick now," con- 
 tinued she, as she heard the front door open and the noise of 
 some one stamping the snow off his boots in the little entry. 
 " I guess I '11 go and tell 'em the doctor 's come." 
 
 So saying, she took the mixture which she had been stir- 
 ring, off the fire, opened a door leading out on one side of the 
 fire-place, and went into the sick room, shutting the door 
 after her very gently. 
 
 As she went out*the door through which the doctor had 
 entered opened, and Calick Pease came in, evidently from the 
 cold, for he seemed to be surrounded by a halo of cold air, 
 and his hand felt like an icicle when he shook hands with the 
 doctor. 
 
 He was tall and robust ; but with a growing stoop in his 
 form, which indicated hard work and some care. A thick 
 fur cap, not taken off, but pushed back on his head as he en- 
 tered the room, framed a frank and prepossessing countenance, 
 browned with sun and wind, and now somewhat ruddy with 
 the glow of brisk walking. It was one of those far<^ i- i<Cn
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 19 
 
 peculiar pleasure to look upon, partly because its expression 
 was genial, attractive and good, and partly because it be- 
 tokened that simplicity and naturalness of disposition which 
 is unconscious of observation, and makes no objection to being 
 enjoyed. 
 
 " I Ve been a puttin' of your horse in the barn," said he to 
 the doctor, " just for a shelter. It 's too cold for any creatur' 
 to be out to-night." 
 
 "Thank you," said the doctor, "thank you. It will be 
 safer, I suppose." 
 
 " Poor thing," said Calicb, nodding toward the door of the 
 sick room, and at the same time drawing the chair which 
 Miss Boggs had just left, closer to the fire, and sitting down in 
 it, " Poor thing ! Think of her havin' been out to-night in 
 it. She 'd have been an icicle before mornin'." 
 
 " It is a snapping cold night," said the doctor. 
 
 " Awful," said Calick. 
 
 There was a pause. Calick occupied it in picking -.up the 
 falling brands, and throwing them over the huge back log. 
 
 " What is it about this woman, any way V said the doctor 
 at length. " Who is she ? What is she ? Where did she 
 come from ? Where is she going to ? I don't understand it." 
 
 Calick shook his head. 
 
 " Nor I," said he ; " she 's crazy. Crazy as a loon. Poor 
 thing !" 
 
 " How did she come here ?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " Well," said Calick, " I was a comin' up the road with a 
 load of wood. When I was comin' over Cartrock's Hill, I saw 
 this woman a walkin' up, and a stoppin' every now and then 
 to sit down and rest a spell. She looked dreadful tired, I tell
 
 20 CONE CUT CORSTEKS. 
 
 you. Well, she walked so slow that I caught up with her 
 near by the guide-post up there, though my oxen ain't very 
 fast walkers neither. When I came up opposite to her, she 
 was a sittin' down again in the snow to rest. She 'd a pretty 
 face, and her dress was all snow, where she'd been a sittiii' 
 down. I never see such a distressed face. ' Come, come,' 
 says I, ' this won't never do, to leave the poor creatur' to die 
 in the snow.' So I offered her a ride, which she took glad 
 enough. So I fixed up a little place in front of the sled, and 
 we went along. ' Are you a goin' far ?' says I. ' Goin' ?' 
 says she. ' Goin' ! goin' ! gone ! for a fortun' to John, my 
 John. You don't happen to be acquainted with my John, do 
 you ?' says she to me. Well, I was kind of flustered by that ; 
 but I answered that I did n't recollect him ; and then she 
 begun a talkin' to herself. At first I thought she was drunk, 
 but she acted steady enough, and did n't look to be drunk 
 either. Pretty soon she broke out again all of a sudden. 
 ' Did you know,' says she, turnin' to me, * that I Ve got a 
 fortun' ?' ' No !' says I, ' have you ?' ' Yes,' says she, ' I Ve 
 got a fortun'. He 's got it now, but I 'm goin' after it. A 
 fortun'. A treasure. Where your treasure is, there shall your 
 heart be also. He 's got my treasure and my heart also. Ho 
 may have the treasure, but he shan't have the heart. He 
 shan't have the heart. I 'in goin' after it now. I shall get it 
 again. -You ain't seen my heart round any where, have you ?' 
 ' No,' says I. * Nor my treasure ?' ' No,' says I. 4 Very good,' 
 says she, ' then he 's got 'em. It 's all right he 's got 'em 
 all right right!' Well, she talked in that way all the 
 while. 
 
 " Finally, when I got home, I told her I was a goin' to turn
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 21 
 
 in here, and she 'd better not go any further to-night. Well, 
 she said she guessed she 'd turn in, too. Perhaps she 'd find 
 her treasure in here. So I brought her in. Aunt Provy 
 managed to dry her clothes, and \ve give her some supper. 
 m She kept a talkin' all the time in the same way, about her 
 treasure and her John, and has been ever since. She took to 
 faintin' just after supper, so we sent over to Mother Nancy to 
 come over and nuss her, and she said what was the matter 
 with her ; and then we sent for you. If you can find out 
 who she is or where she come from, do." 
 
 The doctor made no reply, but leaning back in his chair, 
 his feet on the andirons, sat gazing intently at the blazing fire 
 and playing with his bushy whiskers. 
 
 " H'm ! Bad !" said he, shaking his head dubiously. 
 
 He arose and paced to and fro* across the room. He went 
 to the windows, and rattled his fingers against the glass 
 came back again to the fire took up his saddle-bags which 
 he had deposited upon the hearth when he first came in 
 fumbled in them nervously, bringing out sundry ominous little 
 vials looked up at the little clock upon the mantle-piece, and 
 compared his watch with it, calculating the difference to a 
 second. 
 
 What a desperate hurry the little helter-skelter clock upon 
 the mantle-piece was in that night. It was a thorough-going 
 Yankee clock. Yankee all over. Brim full of Yankee life 
 Yankee motion. There was no discontented pendulum there ; 
 you might depend upon that. It was no old fogy of a clock 
 that leisurely ticked in slow and measured tones, sailing 
 through an ocean of silence to touch on the shore of a second. 
 The little pendulum jerked itself back and forth in most des-
 
 22 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 perate huny. Each second trod quick on the heels of its pre- 
 decessor. They came running out of the future and into the 
 past in quick succession. With its hurried " tick, tick, tick, 
 tick," it said as plain as clock could say, " Come come 
 move on. Quick ! Quick ! Quick ! Quick !" 
 
 Well might your active spring exhibit some impatience to 
 the reflecting doctor ; for on his hand and skill to-night de- 
 pend the beating of a feeble heart not yet wound and set to 
 run like yours. 
 
 " Doctor," said Mother Nancy, in a hurricane of a whisper, 
 opening the door just wide enough to let the volume of sound 
 through, " doctor, we 're ready for you."
 
 II. 
 
 DECEMBER, 1835. 
 
 IT so happened that the same evening which thus left Ca- 
 lick musing alone over the bright fire of Aunt Pease's kitchen, 
 brought also perplexity to the Honorable Lafayette Chessle- 
 bury in the bosom of his family. 
 
 The winter night, whose murmuring and snappish dispo- 
 sition contrived to make its presence felt to Calick, stealing 
 into the room and hiding from the fire behind him, and freez- 
 ing his back, found no entrance to the city domicile of Mr. 
 Chesslebury. Nor was it, perhaps, even aware of his existence. 
 He certainly was quite unconscious that it was abroad. For 
 shielded and screened by double windows, blinds without, and 
 shutters within, and heavy folds of curtain concealing both, 
 warm-colored and soft carpets beneath him, a bright coal fire 
 in the grate before him, the hot breeze of the furnace-register
 
 24 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 behind him, and the warm breath of a many flamed gas- 
 chandelier above him, Mr. Chesslebury was unapproachable 
 by the world at large, and could even ignore the very atmos- 
 phere, which common people must contend with. 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury was ensconced in his easy chair. It was an 
 easy chair indeed. His original position therein was probably a 
 sitting posture, but he had gradually slipped down from high 
 manners into careless comfort, and now, his feet reaching the 
 fender, and his head just appearing above the cushioned arm 
 of his chair, he was in that position which made it hard to 
 trace his form, and say where his body ended and his legs 
 began. He looked as if he were all legs and no body. From 
 this position of luxurious awkwardness he raised himself, 
 slightly, from time to time, but only just enough to sip from 
 a little green glass, which was placed conveniently to his 
 hand, upon a slight table set by his chair for the purpose. 
 The little green glass was replenished, upon occasion, out of 
 an elaborate little pitcher, whose silver lid, when lifted, sent 
 up a steam of a peculiar and apparently a grateful savor. 
 
 Ha ! Winter Night ; you must whistle louder in the chim- 
 ney than that, if you would suggest your presence here. 
 
 The head which occasionally raised itself to drink, pre- 
 sented a handsome visage, whose incipient lines indicated the 
 age of thirty-five. A pair of gold spectacles glistened in the 
 fire-light, and their bright glasses gave an extremely res- 
 pectable gloss to a pair of somewhat foxy eyes. 
 
 Thus protected without, and comforted within, Mr. Chessle- 
 bury was enjoying, in silence, the company and conversation 
 of his wife. For the other end of the rug was adorned by the 
 flowing robes and slippered toes of the Honorable Mrs. Vir-
 
 C O N E C UT C O U X E U S . 25 
 
 ginia Chesslebury. This lady, reclining upon the sofa, ap- 
 peared in a position of ease and negligence, but in a dress of 
 great stringency and elaborateness ; for Mrs. Chesslebury was 
 a rising star in the firmament of fashion, and always even 
 in private kept her lamp trimmed and burning. Upon the 
 rug, between father and mother, sat a little boy. His was a 
 pleasant face, rosy just now, in the heat of the fire before 
 him, and intent with an expression of quiet delight on mak- 
 ing Noah's cow ride on the back of Noah's elephant, up the 
 landing plank into Noah's ark ; the embarkation upon which 
 he was rehearsing. 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury spoke. 
 
 " Did you see the Stuccuppe's carriage to-day, Mr. Chessle- 
 bury?" 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury was practicing in private the art of con- 
 versation, and for this purpose she was accustomed to 
 improve their domestic moments by imagining her husband 
 to be a casual stranger, to whom she had been introduced, 
 and straightway addressing herself to the task of sustaining a 
 conversation with him upon the topics of the day. This she 
 found to be severe exercise ; for Mr. Chesslebury, set up thus as 
 a target for her practice, received her shots, but returned 
 none ; and she very soon found that when she could carry on 
 a polite conversation with him, she was in full training to 
 cope with any of the brilliant minds she was accustomed to 
 meet in elegant society, with no fear of awkward pauses. 
 
 "It was a very magnificent carriage indeed," continued 
 
 she. " An entirely new establishment. Four horses, two 
 
 men, and a coat of arms. All new ; especially the coat of 
 
 arms. How do the Stuccuppes come to have a coat of arms ?" 
 
 2
 
 2G CO-NECUTCOKXElls. 
 
 A pause to allow the supposed stranger to- respond. 
 
 " irm !" said Mr. Chesslebury to himself, sounding; as if lie 
 really were a target struck by an arrow. 
 
 " I think it very pleasant," continued the lady, " to possess 
 these mementos of antiquity. One's character depends so 
 much on family and ancestors ; and one's position is so much 
 clearer to have these things understood. I should feel quite 
 lost in the world without knowing our heraldry ; really it is 
 quite an important point Mr. Chesslebury ; do you not thiuk 
 so ? Quite an important point for a family connection, and 
 gives a respectability to all its members to all its members." 
 
 " Oh h'm !" responded the target to another arrow. 
 
 " And I think," pursued the lady, persevering in her dia- 
 logue, " that a great many people here are very deficient in 
 respect and veneration for their family connection and ances- 
 tors. It seems to me a great 'defect in character, and I think 
 children should be educated to feel more reverence for their 
 ancestry ; " 
 
 Young Jason then certainly needed discipline ; for before 
 her very eyes, that juvenile scion, wrapped in the silence of 
 his infant ingenuity, was whittling off the skirts of his respec- 
 table ancestor Noah, to make him fit into a chimney of his 
 own ark, to represent a chimney sweep. 
 
 " because," pursued the industrious student of conversa- 
 tion, finding herself rather at the end of her subject, and com- 
 pelled to review, " because, as I said before, I think, Mr. 
 Chesslebury, that heraldry, and coats of arms, and liveries, 
 and matters of that sort, impart peculiar character to those 
 families who are entitled to use them, and lend a respecta- 
 bility to all their members."
 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS 27 
 
 As if the arrow went wide of its mark, the target made no 
 responsive sound. 
 
 The lady rose from her seat and took a chair by the side of 
 her husband. 
 
 " That smells nice," said she, as he lifted the silver lid, and 
 poured a stream of vapor up and of liquid down. 
 
 When he put down the glass, she took it up ; extending 
 for that purpose a fair and slender hand, richly jeweled. 
 
 " Come, come, Lafayette ! Why don't you talk ? I wish 
 you would say something." 
 
 " Pooh," said Mr. Chesslebury, vouchsafing an uncommon 
 compliance with a not uncommon request. " ' Lends a re- 
 spectability to all its members.' But suppose they don't want 
 to borrow T' 
 
 " Why they do want to," returned his wife gently. " They 
 can not help it, my dear." 
 
 " Can't they ? Your cousin Charlotte does for one." 
 
 " My cousin Charlotte ! Come now, Lafayette, I did not 
 marry all the Chessleburys." 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury made no reply. 
 
 " Do you not think that whisky has a smoky taste ?" she 
 asked, raising the glass again and sipping delicately, and 
 tasting the punch upon her rosy lips. 
 
 "Don't, Virginia. I wouldn't taste that," said her hus- 
 band, putting out his hand to stop the glass in its passage. 
 
 " Well," resumed he, reverting to the topic of discussion, 
 " I don't see that our pedigree lends her much respectability. 
 I can see how a fishwoman, or a seamstress, or any thing of 
 that kind should take to drinking," added he, putting down 
 empty the little green glass which he had taken from his wife,
 
 28 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " but for a lady in Charlotte's position, I do not understand 
 it." 
 
 "Yes, indeed!" assented Mrs. Chesslebury, "with a good 
 establishment, a splendid house, and such beautiful horses, 
 and a good-natured husband " 
 
 "H'm!" interrupted Mr. Chesslebury, "and not content 
 with not being respectable at home, she can't even keep 
 up a respectable character as a crazy woman at the Asy- 
 lum, but must go and run away in a snow storm, in her con- 
 dition." 
 
 " Why, Lafayette !" exclaimed the lady, with more excite- 
 ment than could have been expected of her. " Why ! No !" 
 
 " Yes ; she has gone. She disappeared Sunday night. 
 Here is the letter." 
 
 So speaking, he took from his pocket a slippery pack of 
 papers, and began to shuffle and deal them in search of the 
 letter. 
 
 It read as follows: 
 
 " LOCKUP ASYLUM, Coxx. 
 Monday night 
 
 " Mr DEAR SIR, 
 
 " I have to communicate to you the sad fact, that your 
 unfortunate relative, Mrs. Charlotte Chesslebury, left us clan- 
 destinely last evening, and the most diligent search fails to 
 disclose any trace or clew to her course. 
 
 " Her door was found open and her room empty, when the 
 attendant went to allot the evening meal. As our vigilance 
 has been unceasing, we are entirely surprised : and the more 
 pained because this is the first loss we have ever met with. 
 You may be assured that it is through no negligence of ours.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 29 
 
 We conjecture that she picked the lock of her apartment with 
 a hair pin. Every other instrument of destruction had been 
 taken from her, and we had not thought it possible that she 
 could do herself any harm with those. We do not under- 
 stand how she could have accomplished it, because our locks 
 are excellent, as we shall be happy to have you test them at 
 any time. 
 
 "Mrs. Charlotte Chesslebury has been not much better 
 than when last we wrote you. After being placed here, her 
 case abated much, partly owing to loss of strength from the 
 confinement, and partly to gradual diminution of violence, 
 from being beyond the reach of her usual stimulants. Of 
 late she has been however, if any thing, more variable in her 
 feelings and demonstrations. She has gro-vwn more and more 
 feeble, as was to be expected ; but has had times of unusual 
 clearness of mind, and has made more than one ingenious 
 attempt to contrive an escape. 
 
 " She was, however, although bodily weaker, yet mentally 
 so much better, we were in great confidence that if she could 
 be kept quiet and beyond the reach of her most unfortunate 
 gratification until her approaching crisis were past, she would 
 from that time convalesce, and we might in the course of time, 
 have the great satisfaction of restoring her to the high social 
 position which she occupied, and which she is, by nature and 
 education, so eminently qualified to fill. Once recovered, and 
 her unhappy habits broken up, we hoped she might enjoy, in 
 some measure, a restoration of health. 
 
 "We are continuing to prosecute in every direction our 
 search, and do not yet despair of recovering her. 
 
 " As the quarter has just expired, we inclose our usual bill.
 
 30 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 which Mr. John Chesslebury directed to be sent to you, as he 
 did not know what might be his future address. 
 " I am, my dear Sir, 
 
 " yours, most obediently, 
 
 " PHILANDER B. STRATECOTE, M. D. 
 
 " To HON. LAFAYETTE CHESSLEBURY, New York." 
 
 " P. S. We are informed by the attendant, that a number 
 of little portable articles are found to be missing. We have 
 inserted in the bill an estimate of the amount, together with 
 the injury to -the locks, which is considerable, for we shall be 
 obliged, of course, to have all the locks in the establishment 
 replaced. Mr. John Chesslebury said we should draw on 
 you for his wife's bills, and you would charge them to him. 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 "P. B. S.,M.D." 
 
 " Why the crazy girl !" cried Mrs. Virginia Chesslebury, 
 throwing down the letter with supreme indifference to the 
 suggestions of the postcript. " Well ! a woman who drinks 
 as she will, can't be expected to do better." 
 
 And Mrs. Chesslebury essayed to replenish the little green 
 glass for her own use. 
 
 " Lafayette," said she, " your pitcher is empty." 
 
 " Jason," said Mr. Chesslebury, at the same time stretch- 
 ing up a foot in search of a resting place upon the mantel- 
 piece, in a vain attempt to aggravate the comeliness and 
 comfort of his position. " Jason, ring the bell." 
 
 Little Jason, leaving his diluvian recreations, got up from 
 the carpet and toddled to the bell cord. He now appeared to 
 be in the aggregate, a youth of about eighteen years of age ;
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. "31 
 
 to wit : boy four, dress fourteen. Ho pulled the bell, and nt 
 almost the same instant, a gentlemanly-dressed servant opened 
 the door and entered. 
 
 " Wilson," said the master, K you are prompt." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Wilson, accepting a compliment. 
 
 Wilson had been sitting outside the parlor door with the 
 keyhole for company. For Wilson was a bit of a gentleman 
 in his way, and the company down stairs was very promis- 
 cuous, and not exactly what he had been accustomed to. 
 And between the keyhole and the cook, he preferred the 
 keyhole, 
 
 " A little more fire, Wilson." 
 
 Wilson was not quite certain whether Mr. Chesslebury 
 wanted the fire in the grate, or in the little pitcher. 
 
 His doubts were readily -dissolved when he saw the pitcher 
 upheld by the fair hand of Mrs. Chesslebury, behind her hus- 
 band's chair. To make sure of pleasing both, he took the 
 coal hod and the pitcher, and soon returned with both 
 replenished. 
 
 Wilson was then instructed " to speak to Catherine ;" and 
 Catherine, admonished of her duties, entered by stealth, tread- 
 ing upon the animal kingdom in general, and the diminished 
 image of the respectable ancestor in particular, pounced upon 
 Jason, and bore him away; and gradually his ineffectual 
 remonstrances died out in the distance of upper stories. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Chesslebury were thus left to themselves and 
 the pitcher. The foxy eyes resumed the contemplation of the 
 fire, and the head they adorned settled itself in a comfortable 
 way, and resumed consideration of the difficult question, how 
 to acquit the Chesslebury name of all connection, responsi-
 
 32 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 bility and sympathy, with the unfortunate cousin. Mrs. 
 Chesslebury, with the aid of a second little green glass, 
 quietly produced by the hand of the thoughtful Wilson, 
 commenced a conversational and experimental discussion of 
 the equally delicate question, whether Scotch whisky tastes 
 smoky.
 
 XII. 
 
 JUNE, 1835. 
 
 V 
 
 THE same happy village that was graced by the permanent 
 residence of Miss Provy Pease, the hospitalities of whose house 
 were so freely extended to the wanderer, had been a short 
 time previously enlivened and honored by the accession to its 
 society of Captain John Mayferrie. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie was what you would call a gentlemanly 
 man. He was not a fop ; for he dressed with a plainness 
 that was entirely appropriate to the social atmosphere of a 
 Connecticut village. He was not obsequious, nor a stickler 

 
 34 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 for etiquette ; on the contrary, his manners had an air of 
 simplicity and kindness that was entirely approved by the 
 unsophisticated of Cone Cut Corners. But notwithstanding 
 his plainness and simplicity, he was a gentlemanly man. It 
 shone in his smile ; it made itself heard in every tone of his 
 voice ; it was evident in his friendly nod, and unmistakable in 
 his very tread. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie was a farmer. He did not claim to be a 
 fine gentleman, though he was a gentlemanly man. He could 
 not have been more kind than his rustic neighbors, but he 
 kneW how to be more courteous. 
 
 Every thing that Captain Mayferrie did was well done. If 
 he planted a corn-field, when the grain came up there were 
 no sickly yellow patches in it. If he drained a swamp, it 
 never had to be done again. If he broke a colt, the colt be- 
 came a perfect lady's horse, in the matter of docility. If he 
 made hay, it never fermented in the barn. No one need rake 
 after Captain Mayferrie. And all the while he worked with 
 such a hearty good-will, doing things well, not because he 
 could do them well, but because they ought to be done well, 
 that he quite captivated the hearts of all the honest farmers in 
 the town ; and Calick Pease, leaning on his scythe to catch 
 a moment's breath, would watch the swinging body of the 
 indefatigable captain with admiration, and declare with swel- 
 tering brow that he would " rather mow after Captain May- 
 ferrie than any other man in town." 
 
 The ladies too, found qualities not to be resisted in the 
 Captain. They also, were convinced that whatever he did was 
 well done. If he drove down to the village, he came at a 
 good round pace that brought every body to the window ;
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 35 
 
 and with a horse, too, that it was a pleasure to see. If he 
 brought a load of wood into the village in the winter, he sat 
 on his sled so much at home, or if the roads were bad, he 
 walked so independently by the side of that noble yoke of 
 oxen, that his passing was an event to be talked of at any 
 farm-house on the road. 
 
 And then when he came into meeting on Sunday morning 
 which he always did with a regularity Avhich went to the 
 heart of good old Elder Graynes he walked up to his pew so 
 quietly, that his fair friends had to keep their ears open to see 
 hmi ; not that they saw him with those organs, not at all ; 
 but the way they were informed of his approach was by a 
 gentle creak the slightest possible whisper of a creak in 
 his left boot, as he came up the aisle. This gentle creak was 
 rather prepossessing than otherwise, for it threw the accent 
 upon every other step, and gave his walk a slight reminis- 
 cence of the military, very different from the noisy complain- 
 ings of the Sunday boots of his neighbors. Every thing that 
 he did was gently winning, it was so well done. 
 
 And if he did nothing, it was all the same. When he 
 stood up in prayer time, if he stood an inch, he stood six feet. 
 
 Moreover, as the ladies said, he possessed the estimable 
 quality of minding his own business; a habit which they 
 seemed fully to appreciate, and even showed a laudable 
 desire to help him in ; for never was any man's history the 
 subject of more frequent and fruitless speculations, than that 
 of Captain Mayferrie. He was a very mysterious character. 
 It tasked the utmost resources of his gentlemanliness, to make 
 his mysteriousness bearable. But Captain Mayferrie did his 
 best; and in the magic influence of his presence, people
 
 3G CONK CUT CORNERS. 
 
 forgot their vexatious ignorance of what he was, and where 
 he came from. His sudden appearance among them, in the 
 semi-weekly stage from New York, one afternoon in the 
 summer before the incidents already related, with no other 
 letter of introduction than " John Mayferrie," in a bold hand, 
 tacked to his trunk, became gradually forgotten ; and ho at 
 last became one of the community. The most rustic society 
 ia, in its way, as jealous of intrusion as the most exclusive 
 circle of the metropolis ; and it was a long time before Cap- 
 tain Mayferrie was admitted to the standing of a Cone Cutter. 
 As long as he withheld his story, there was no way for him to 
 gain that position, but by the judicious course he pursued. 
 He bought a farm a mile above the village, and there waited 
 for society to claim him. 
 
 He was a gentlemanly man, and society did. 
 
 There were, however, those whose curiosity was more than 
 a match for his gentlemanliness. Miss Provy Pease for one, 
 did not know what to make of him. As she felt however that 
 it was her bounden duty to make something of him, she 
 watched him for a long time very carefully, to see what he 
 was cut out for. She would make him up, she said, as soon 
 as she found out. It will be unnecessary to remark that Miss 
 Provy Pease was the village seamstress. She was, as a seam- 
 stress always ought to be, a smart, bustling, little body ; and, 
 moreover, she was, as a seamstress sometimes is, the news- 
 paper of the neighborhood. "Nay, we do her not justice. 
 She was a perfect electric telegraph. No printing press 
 could have supplied her place. Besides plying her needle on 
 the garments of the villagers, she took stitches, ever and 
 anon, in the social fabric. There was no end to the domestic
 
 CONE CUT COIINEBS. 37 
 
 rents into which she had thrust her needle. With an expe- 
 rience beyond her years, and an activity very much this side 
 of them, (and she considered her years too numerous to men- 
 tion,) she was the life of the village. 
 
 It was Miss Pease who first gave Mr. Mayferrie the title of 
 Captain, in the village of Cone Cut Corners. 
 
 Thus it was. 
 
 One summer evening she was coming down from Elder 
 Graynes', where she had been to make him a present of a 
 basket of currants from her little garden. She was trotting 
 down the hill into the village, when she saw Mr. Mayferrie 
 coming up, on his way home. He was walking ; very erect, 
 and handsomely, as he always did. 
 
 "Aha!" said Aunty Pease, as she approached the mys- 
 terious being who was the great subject of her thoughts, 
 sleeping and waking. " Aha ! here 's the man. He walks 
 like a military man ; / believe he is ; I '11 try him at 
 any rate." 
 
 " Good evenin', Captain Mayferrie," cried she. 
 
 " Oh ! good evening, Miss Pease," said the gentlemanly man, 
 with a little start. " A beautiful evening." 
 
 " Yes." And her bright eyes twinkled on him from under 
 an immense white sun-bonnet, in the remote end of which, 
 her little face seemed to occupy the place of a lining. 
 
 "Been up to see our good minister, I suppose," said the 
 gentlemanly man, looking at the fruit-colored basket in her 
 hand. 
 
 " Oh !" she laughed, " only two or three currants from my 
 bushes ; you know he has n't got any. Good evenin' Captain 
 Mayferrie," she nodded, and away she skipped.
 
 38 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 It was not in her nature to resist looking round, Avith a 
 lurking rogue peeping from each eye, to see the gentlemanly 
 man once more. The gentlemanly man was looking back 
 too. Their eyes met. She saw upon his face a look of per- 
 plexity illumined by the setting sun. He could not discern, 
 in the dim distance of the far end of the sun-bonnet, what her 
 eyes expressed. But he heard her voice again ; " Good 
 evenin', Captain Mayferrie." 
 
 And away she spun. " Aha !" she said to herself, as she 
 danced along. " Captain Mayferrie ! I Ve found you out ! 
 You 're a captain. I '11 make something of you yet. So you 
 are a military man ; or a naval officer ; no, you 're captain 
 of a privateersman ; that 's it ! You might as well have 
 told us of it. But we know it now, Captain Mayferrie." 
 
 The triumphant seamstress, with merry step, sped along, 
 bewildering every one she met by tacitly nodding toward 
 them a face, familiar enough in its features, but unexampled 
 in its expression of superhuman intelligence concentrated 
 upon one single point. She stopped to speak to nobody. 
 Not even to Calick, who was milking in her yard. But toss- 
 ing her basket over the fence, away she went, past her own 
 door, at the same exulting pace. The telegraph was about to 
 put herself in communication with a favorite station, Mrs. 
 Deacon Ficksom, operator. By the time she came in sight 
 of Deacon Ficksom's house, she seemed to have repressed her 
 triumph, and she became perfectly calm, except the rogue in 
 each eye, when she entered his gate. 
 
 " Good evenin', Mis' Ficksom," she cried to that lady, who 
 was sitting just within the open door, with a very new baby in 
 her arms. " Why ! and that 's the little stranger, is it ? What
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. . 39 
 
 a beauty ! And how well you look. 'T ain't every body 
 that gets up so soon. I 'm sure we ought to be thankful," 
 she continued, pulling off the long sun-bonnet to get her face 
 to the baby's for a kiss ; " Yes, very" a kiss " very" an- 
 other kiss, and then three more " verys" punctuated with al- 
 ternate kisses " thankful" and then a kiss which for length 
 and strength was entirely worthy to be a final kiss and a full 
 period to the sentence. Final it was ; for as the infant showed 
 some signs of not feeling at ease under this novel and unac- 
 countable demonstration, the prudent Miss Provy desisted, 
 and stood winking at him, tasting her lips with her tongue, 
 and giving the result in the exclamation ; "And what a sweet 
 cherub it is too !" 
 
 The mother made no reply to Miss Pease, but looked at 
 the child with a mother's eye. 
 
 And of what can Miss Provy Pease be thinking, that her 
 eyes twinkle so, and her little mouth gets all ready to say a 
 word, and then suddenly relaxes before she says any thing, and 
 she falls to admiring the baby again ? 
 
 "What are you going to name it 1 ?" said she. "The 
 lit-tle-de-ar !" 
 
 " That 's just what we Ve been a talking about," said the 
 Deacon, coming forward from within, and presenting to view 
 a countenance very prominent, by reason of a great stoop in 
 his shoulders. 
 
 This countenance was of large expanse, when you regarded 
 it as whole, but when considering the features individually, 
 you wondered that so many and so huge features could be 
 put together, without making even a larger visage than they 
 did. In fact the Deacon had more features than any other
 
 40 * CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 man in town. There was a double chin, and every now and 
 then, as he spoke, a promise of a third. Then there was a 
 prominence below each eye, as well as above a sort of 
 nether eyebrow, though bald. And then his cheeks were so 
 large, that his mouth had to build a semi-circular embank- 
 ment and moat on each side of itself for protection. Still, 
 with all its fatness, the Deacon's face had a hard, ill-favored 
 expression, that was quite striking. As if he were desirous to 
 avail himself of these advantages for making faces, he was 
 accustomed to enforce the sentiments of his conversation 
 with a look that he deemed appropriate to the thought and 
 its occasion. 
 
 At the present speaking this remarkable visage was very 
 rough upon one side, by means of a stiff beard ; and very ten- 
 der on the other side, by reason of a dull razor; which 
 implement, then in his hand, had been interrupted in its 
 Saturday night's reaping, by the arrival of Miss Provy 
 
 " That 's just what we Ve been a talking about," said he, 
 with his razor in one hand, and his strop in the other. " Now, 
 what do you say, Miss Pease ?" 
 
 She did not answer. Perhaps she was in doubt about the 
 gender ; perhaps she was thinking of the Captain. 
 
 " What do you think of William T suggested the mother, 
 timidly. " That was his grandfather's name." 
 
 "Ain't I told you again an' again, I won't have him 
 named such a name as that ? Ain't a good name better'n 
 great riches ? an' where you going to find a good name, if 
 't 'ain't in Scripter ? Eh ?" 
 
 "How would John do?" said the mother, mildly, as if
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 41 
 
 she felt it her immediate duty to make restitution for the 
 worthless sxiggestion. 
 
 " Oh ! no ! Not John !" exclaimed the twinkling-eyed 
 Miss Pease, in a tone that added, that is out of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " Why not John ?" demanded the Deacon. 
 
 "Because," said the telegraph, mysteriously, trying to make 
 her twinkling eyes be still. "Because that's the Capp'n's 
 name." 
 
 " Capp'n ! Capp'n who ?" 
 
 " Why, Capp'n Mayferrie, of course ; what other capp'n 
 should I mean," said the exulting telegraph, with all the 
 innocence of expression she could command. 
 
 " Is he a capp'n ?" asked the Deacon. 
 
 " So they say." 
 
 " He looks like a military man," said Mrs. Ficksom, in 
 confirmation. 
 
 " He is a man of blood, I fear," said the Deacon solemnly ; 
 and he shook his head with a look that spoke volumes of 
 Peace Tracts. 
 
 " I'm afraid it 's worse 'n that," said the telegraph, address- 
 ing herself to the wife. " I've hearn it said," the telegraph 
 thought that as she heard it as fast as she said it, she made 
 facts keep up with her statements, and stood on good terms 
 with the truth " I've hearn it said that he was capp'n of a 
 privateersman." 
 
 Do tell !" said Mrs. Ficksom. 
 
 The Deacon got out another edition of the Peace Tracts, 
 enlarged and improved ; and said it was what he had feared 
 all along.
 
 42 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 "So IVe hcarn it said," repeated the telegraph. To her 
 ears this phrase expressed the best of authority. 
 
 " I should n't wonder if he was a pirate," said the Deacon, 
 taking upon his sleeve a proof of the cuts with which he had 
 illustrated his cheek. " I *d inform again' him if 'twant for 
 having him hanged," he continued ; and he issued a short 
 essay against Capital Punishment. 
 
 " I don't believe he 's any thing more 'n a militia capp'n," 
 doubted the telegraph. 
 
 " I do !" said the Deacon, publishing a sermon on Faith. 
 
 " He looks like a clever man," interposed Mrs. Ficksom, 
 commencing to rock again ; an operation which she had sus- 
 pended on mention of the Captain's name. 
 
 " "We don't know any thing about him," said the Deacon, 
 somewhat abruptly, " and we don't want to. What shall we 
 name the baby ? Eh ?" 
 
 " An' so he 's a capp'n," continued the Deacon, after brief 
 silence. "And who told you so ? Eh ?" and he turned short 
 upon Miss Pease, looking a whole library full of minute his- 
 torical investigations. 
 
 " Call him er George," suggested the telegraph, 
 
 evading the question. 
 
 " No !" said the father, with the intonation of a torpedo, 
 and a countenance as expressive of decision of character as is 
 the title page of the celebrated essay on that subject. " No ! 
 't is not in Scripter." 
 
 " Oh !" 
 
 " Who told you so ?" persisted the Deacon. 
 
 " Call him" began the electric telegraph, here hesitating 
 for a name and her sun-bonnet " call him," said she, step-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 43 
 
 ping briskly out of the door " call him Beelzebub ; that 's in 
 Scripter." 
 
 And away went the little old maid with all the air of one 
 who is conscious of having accomplished her mission on earth, 
 in much less than the given time. 
 
 Mrs. Ficksom laughed faintly. Mr. Ficksom published a 
 tremendous sermon on Profane Swearing, in which he seemed 
 to take it for granted that such a use of the name suggested, 
 was expressly forbidden by the third commandment. 
 
 " Miss Pease don't think much of Scripter names," said the 
 mother. 
 
 The Deacon said nothing ; but turning to the looking-glass 
 reviewed his last work. 
 
 Miss Pease's taste in this respect was what one would an- 
 ticipate. Her father was a good old elder, who had long gone 
 childless ; and when at last almost hopeless, he was presented 
 with a daughter, he insisted on christening her Providence 
 Permitting Pease. During a long life Providence had per- 
 mitted her to remain Pease. No wonder that the little old 
 maid thought her name inauspicious. 
 
 Next morning the baby was baptized at meeting. Good 
 old Elder Graynes looked more benignant than ever, as he 
 came gently down the pulpit stairs to perform the rite, and 
 his mild eye rested kindly on the little one, as he inclined his 
 head to speak with the father. The worthy Deacon put his 
 large mouth, wide open, to the minister's ear. It looked dan- 
 gerous. But he only said, in a hoarse whisper, " Isaac Cart- 
 rock." As he uttered the first word, his visage, to one who 
 could have read it, was a complete treatise on Scripture 
 names. As he pronounced the second name, his countenance
 
 44 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 edited a work on the importance of wealth, and the advan- 
 tages of naming a poor boy after a rich relative. 
 
 The same day that thus brought a name to the deacon's 
 offspring, affixed indelibly the new title to Mr. Mayferrie. For 
 the Deacon himself, having revolved the subject in his capa- 
 cious mind, with a view to getting the start of Miss Pease in 
 the public promulgation, of the news, ingeniously contrived to 
 take to himself all the credit of the discovery, by rising 
 gravely at the evening prayer meeting, and calling upon Cap- 
 tain John Mayferrie to make some remarks. 
 
 Henceforward was Mr. Mayferrie always known as "the 
 Captain."
 
 IV. 
 
 DECEMBER, 1885. 
 
 AUNT Provy's 
 little brown cot- 
 tage, which look- 
 ed more like a 
 model upon the 
 scale of an inch 
 to the foot, than 
 an inhabitable 
 edifice, was Cal- 
 ick's home ; for 
 though he work- 
 ed constantly for Captain Mayferrie upon the farm, he per- 
 sisted in going down into the village every night to stay with 
 her, as she lived otherwise alone. Calick always pretended that 
 he did this for company. But those actions which speak louder 
 than words, ay ! and sweeter too, signified to her grateful heart 
 thai it was not his pleasure, but her comfort that he sought.
 
 46 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Calick was a hearty hand at a husking ; he was a merry 
 boy oil a moonlight sleigh-ride ; as companionable a fisher- 
 man as you could find in the county; and perfectly indis- 
 pensable at a raising. No " sugaring off,'' was so good as that 
 at which Calick made rude wooden spoons and equally un- 
 couth merriment for the company. 
 
 Yet, if you would put Calick in his true element, set him at 
 work. Nothing pleased him so well as a hard job in view. 
 On the bitterest winter's day he would rather keep warm by 
 the saw-horse than by the kitchen fire. A meadow full of 
 haycocks, and a thunder-cloud in the' west, was a beautiful 
 landscape to his eye. When he could find nothing better to 
 do, it was a very pleasant recreation to him to turn the grind- 
 stone by the hour for the Captain, until the tools, hoes in- 
 cluded, were much sharper than Deacon Ficksom's razor. 
 There were no gates lingering out a miserable existence upon 
 broken hinges, at either of the places under his supervision. 
 There were no such fences in town as the Captain's. There 
 was not such a pleasant little stoop in the village as Aunt 
 Provy had at her door, with honeysuckle, last summer, trailing 
 all over it, and one ambitious branch spreading its wings to 
 fly upon the roof. There was nowhere else to be found such 
 a wood-yard as the Captain has this very winter, sheltered 
 from bleak winds on two sides by the shed and the house, 
 and on the third by an enormous pile of noble wood, planned 
 by the thoughtful Calick, so as almost to complete the inclo- 
 sure. For this was his playground, at leisure moments ; and 
 the ax was his toy. 
 
 Upon the cold morning succeeding the cold night in which 
 the wanderer found shelter at Miss Provy Pease's house.
 
 CONE CUT -CORNERS. 47 
 
 Calick, rising early as was his custom, groped the way from 
 liis little bedroom down the steep stairs which led into his 
 aunt's kitchen. There ho proceeded, with the utmost gentle- 
 ness and economy of sound, to build a fire on the broad 
 hearth. But notwithstanding his unusual care, the kindling 
 flames had scarcely begun to sparkle, when the adjoining 
 door opened a little way, and the sepulchral whisper of Miss 
 Boggs entered the room, followed by her head, which ap- 
 peared in a condition betokening that no more of her person 
 was in a condition to appear. 
 
 " Calick," asked the nurse, is that you ?" 
 
 " Yes," said he, fanning the fire with a piece of bark. 
 
 " It 's a girl ! Calick," said the nurse, in a triumphant 
 whisper, " It 's a girl ! A perfect beauty as ever I see." 
 
 "Is if?" said he, looking up. "And how's the mother?" 
 
 " Oh, the poor woman ! she 's sick. O-o-h ! she 's sick. 
 She hasn't much life left ; poor soul." 
 
 "I must go up to the Captain's," said Calick, after a 
 moment's pause. " Tell aunt that I shall come down again, 
 as soon as I can after breakfast." 
 
 Accordingly Calick soon quietly withdrew, and betook 
 himself, in the cold gray light of dawn, toward Mr. May- 
 feme's. It was a long walk, and somewhat laborious too, in 
 the deep, new fallen snow, and it was bright morning 
 almost sunrise when he reached the house. 
 
 Thence to the wood-yard with the ax. 
 
 And what a lusty chopping he commences then, so early 
 this bright frosty morning ! With what a merry ring the ax, 
 keen as the air it cuts, falls on the snow-encrusted log ! How 
 
 merrily the broad chips fly, right and left, falling noiselessly 
 
 -
 
 48 CONECUTCORNERS. 
 
 in the fresh snow ! How exhilaratingly the smooth ax-helve 
 glides through the hand, and what a healthful shock runs 
 through his frame, as the ax strikes the log ! What are all 
 magnetic tortures ever invented, compared to this ? What a 
 bright glow of countenance from under that shaggy fur cap, 
 as he stops to roll the log over with his foot ! Then again the 
 merry ring of the ax, and the swift chips fly. The broad 
 notch sinks and narrows as it goes. At every blow the 
 weakening log complains in more hollow voice ; till at last 
 the skillful hand with gentler strokes strikes through. And 
 now the next victim comes tumbling down the slanting pile, 
 and again the swift chips fly their enemy the ax. 
 
 And soon, as breakfast time draws near, the ax retires to 
 rest in the shed, the icy boots stamp till their inmates tingle 
 again, and honest Calick entering the house, avers that he 
 feels as if he could eat the corn-barn. But there is no need of 
 that; and he very soon forgets it in contemplation of the 
 preparations which Martha is making at the breakfast-table. 
 There is the smoking brown loaf, and there goes the golden 
 butter, and the cheese, and the apple-sauce, and the milk- 
 pitcher oh, ye city eyes ! would you believe that that stream 
 of richness which flows from the huge brown pitcher into the 
 eager Calick's bowl, is nothing more than milk mere milk ? 
 Stop, honest Calick ! before you put that huge spoon and its 
 swimming contents into your opened mouth; are you suffi- 
 ciently thankful for being allowed that luxury, when so many 
 other wiser heads do not know what milk is ? Have 
 you, good Calick, sufficiently pondered on the innumerable 
 little boys and girls who drink chalk and water 1 
 
 Calick however has no knowledge of the milk that rises to
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 49 
 
 the bottom ; and if be bad, he has no thought to spend in 
 an analysis of that fluid this morning; for Mr. Mayferrie 
 entering the kitchen just now, he immediately commences to 
 recount to him the incidents of the previous evening. At 
 first the Captain pays only his usual gentlemanly attention to 
 the conversation ; but at last, being perhaps touched by the 
 detail of the simple narrative, he seems to take great interest 
 in the occurrence, and with great minuteness questions him 
 upon all the particulars. 
 
 " And I wish, sir," says Calick, after he had answered for 
 the second or third time, what the nurse had said about 
 the mother and child that morning "And I wish, sir, you 
 would go down and see aunt this mornin'. I think the poor 
 mother 's in a very bad case, and if she should n't live, what 
 would become of the baby ? We shan't hardly know what 
 to do ; and aunt would be glad enough to see you." 
 
 Captain Mayferrie made no reply ; he sat in silence, con- 
 templating vacuity, and disregarded the attractions of the 
 table. It was not until the others had nearly finished their 
 meal, that he emerged from silence and returned to con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Martha," says he, " have you finished those mittens ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 Martha's " no, sir," is somehow or other not very unlike her 
 bread ; being rather crisp and crusty, yet not at all sour, and 
 quite palatable to honest Calick. 
 
 " When will they be done ?" asks the gentlemanly man. 
 
 Calick looks at Martha to wait for the answer ; he is pretty 
 sure that Martha will not see him looking at her, because she 
 is talking to the Captain. 
 
 3
 
 50 CONK CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " I should have finished 'em last night, but Calick you 
 want some more coffee ?" 
 
 " Oh, no !" exclaims Calick, and plunging into his plate he 
 endeavors to bury his confusion there. 
 
 The mischievous Martha returns to the subject by saying 
 they are all done but the fringe. 
 
 " Oh ! never mind the fringe," says the Captain, " they 'II 
 do as they are, I '11 warrant." 
 
 " Why, you 'd freeze your pulses," cries Martha ; " 'twont 
 do without a fringe." 
 
 " How long will it take to make the fringe ?" asks the gen- 
 tlemanly man, cutting a slice of bread with the carving knife. 
 
 " I could finish 'em in half an hour, I should think," replies 
 Martha, casting a demure glance at Calick to see if he wants 
 more coffee. But Calick has not forgotten himself so soon. 
 
 " I wish you would do it after breakfast," says the Captain. 
 " I will go down to the village. And Calick, you may har- 
 ness the horse when the mittens are done | Martha, you tell 
 him when." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 In due time the horse is at the door. The Captain puts into 
 the sleigh-box a stone jug with a corn-cob cork, and then they 
 both take their seats. The Captain takes the reins from Ca- 
 lick's hands, and touches up 'the horse in the most gentle- 
 manly manner possible. With a jerk that rattles the corn-cob 
 corked jug beneath them in a fearful manner, the horse starts 
 off down the road. 
 
 Away ! with merry bells ; the light dry snow on tree and 
 shrub, on fence and wall, and on the broad expanse of span- 
 gled fields, sparkling defiance to the morning sun. Away '
 
 CONE CUT COR NEKS. 51 
 
 with merry bells ; the very road singing beneath us with joy. 
 Away! with merry bells; inciting the snow-flakes to fly 
 along our path in unsuccessful races. Away! with merry 
 bells ; past forests that stand huddled together, shivering in 
 their scanty winter attire ; over the little bridge, where the 
 gurgling waters, winter-bound, h/ive cut all manner of antics 
 in the attempt to get free, and have been petrified in the act. 
 Away ! with merry bells ; through great drifts of newly fallen 
 snow, plunging in and coming out in a breath, as if there 
 were no such things in the way. Away ! with merry bells, 
 and merry speed ; slueing hither and thither at sudden turns, 
 as if determined to slide over the buried fence, in spite of the 
 horse. Away ! with merry bells ; down the hill, the horse's 
 dancing feet showering snowy castings of themselves upon the 
 sleigh behind them ; past farm-house and barn-yard where 
 cattle stand knee-deep in snow, munching their breakfast in 
 the open air, and looking lazily at the passers-by. Away ! 
 with merry bells ; nodding a smile in silence to the trudging 
 teamster, who toils with patient oxen .through the drifts. 
 Away ! with merry bells ; by the little school-house where 
 children have just begun to gather for the day, and now 
 dropping their snow-balls, stand in dazzled admiration as we 
 pass. Onward ! with merry bells ; for here we come in sight 
 of curling smoke from village chimneys rising over the hill, 
 and now below us in the valley we see the snow-thatched 
 roofs, and now the newly whitened street. Onward ! with 
 merry bells ; down the hill, ringing away past good old Elder 
 Graynes, who stands with snow-shovel in hand, clearing a 
 path to his front door, and enjoying the morning air. On- 
 ward ! with merry bells ; for ours are the loudest, sharpest,
 
 52 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 clearest, sweetest cliime in town, and should make their little 
 rolling, ringing tongues be heard. Onward! with merry 
 bells, and merrier speed, past the little inch-to-the-foot model 
 of a house, bringing Aunty Pease to the window at the well- 
 known sound. Onward ! with merry bells ; catching a 
 glimpse of the large-visaged Deacon, standing in his doorway, 
 looking a sermon upon the depravity of Jehu. Onward ! with 
 merry bells ; taking a sweeping turn around the town pump, 
 whose nose is afflicted with a frozen cold in the head, and 
 stopping short at the very last moment, at a post before the 
 door of Gregory Donoe. 
 
 Whew ! what a ride ! what blue noses ! what numb hands ! 
 what a smoking horse ! 
 
 The blue noses and the numb hands find gradual relief at 
 the hospitable stove of Gregory Donoe. The smoking horse, 
 with the mitigation of a buffalo robe over him, and a bunch 
 of hay under his nose to occupy his attention, must smoke it 
 out. 
 
 " GREGORY DONOE," painted on a board, and hung over the 
 door, indicates to the visitor that the miscellaneous assortment 
 of merchandise seen in the frosty and dusty window, is for 
 sale although in themselves the articles are far from being 
 very suggestive or attractive to the spirit of traffic ; and that 
 they are the stock in trade of Gregory Donoe, who is the 
 man that undertakes to sell them. If the visitor has time, 
 such a cold morning, to turn and look around, he will learn 
 from another sign a swinging sign this hung midway 
 upon the stem of a tall elm before the door, that Gregory 
 Donoe adds to his business in trade, the profession of hospi- 
 tality. And if he were to go further and enter the door at
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 63 
 
 the other end of the front, which is more particularly the 
 tavern door, in contradistinction to the store door at this end, 
 and entering should demand a share of that entertainment for 
 man and beast proffered in yellow letters without, he would 
 find himself received by Gregory Donoe with, considerable 
 surprise at the event, with many expressions of curiosity and 
 personal interest, and with a laudable desire to please, re- 
 iterated in the invariable answer to every request, " We '11 see 
 if we can accommodate you." The surprise of the host at re- 
 ceiving a guest, could only be exceeded by the curiosity of the 
 attaches of the establishment, who comprise the members of 
 his family ; and who would be found on service of silent at- 
 tention, in dark corners, looking on ; or from banisters above, 
 looking down ; or at cracks of doors, looking through. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie and Calick, needing no professional hos- 
 pitality from the host, pay no attention to the swinging sign ; 
 but enter the little store, and greet the storekeeper. 
 
 " A cold morning," says a large man with a small head, 
 one of three around the stove, as our friends enter, and who, 
 if we may judge by the deliberate way in which he opens the 
 door and crams in fuel, is Gregory Donoe himself. 
 
 "Yes," responds the Captain, "extremely cold for these 
 parts." 
 
 "Unus'l," says a gentleman with watery eyes and a red 
 nose, which is perhaps but blushing at the ardent gaze of the 
 hot stove pipe before him. 
 
 The speaker is sitting on a nail keg behind the stove in 
 such a manner as to bring one knee on each side of it ; which is 
 evidently a favorite position of his, in the season for it, for his 
 pantaloons are perceptibly browned on the inside of either leg.
 
 54 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 "Stinging cold," said the third, a very dusty gentleman, 
 speaking apparently to himself, after a short pause, as if the 
 thought had just reached him, and nodding confidentially at a 
 stack of new brooms opposite him ; which were a part of the 
 " new goods for the season just opened and for sale by Gregoiy 
 Donoe." 
 
 " Got any more corn ?" inquired the proprietor of the estab- 
 lishment, seating himself upon his counter and drumming 
 with his heels upon it. 
 
 "Me ?" said the Captain. 
 
 Mr. Donoe, finding his seat rather cold, transferred his per- 
 son to a butter firkin in the vicinity of the gentleman who in- 
 habited the nail keg, saying " Ye s, you, ye s." 
 
 ".Oh, yes !" answered the Captain, " I Ve got more. What 
 do you want to allow for it ?" 
 
 The large man turned his small head away from the Cap- 
 tain, and a pair of sharp eyes toward him, and said interrog- 
 atively, " four and threepence ?" 
 
 " I don't know," said the Captain. Libbitt !" 
 
 " What ?" said that gentleman, after bringing his conference 
 with the brooms to a close, and turning slowly around so as 
 to face the Captain. 
 
 " Are you driving your ash-pung now ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Libbitt, reverting to the group of brooms. 
 
 " Libbitt, I '11 sell you those cheap," said Gregory Donoe. 
 
 " What do I want of a broom ?" said Libbitt, with the em- 
 phasis of intense contempt. "Here I've lived in dust and 
 ashes these I do'no' how long ; what would I be better for a 
 broom ?" 
 
 " Cleaner," suggested the man in scorched pantaloons.
 
 CONS CUT CORNERS. 55 
 
 " When a man tells me, or hints to me," said the dusty gen- 
 tleman with increasing energy, " that brooms is any mortal 
 use to any body, I concludes that man don't know what he 's 
 made of. I do know what I 'm made of, and I ain't ashamed 
 o' the material, not in the least. Why !" exclaimed he, struck 
 with a strong figure, " a man's cleanin' himself is as ridicul'us 
 as tryin' to get lint off broadcloth ; it won't come off ; if it 
 does, it won't stay off; and if it was off for good, you 'd only 
 be the wus off for it ; for what is your broadcloth but lint ? / 
 say the more lint the thicker your coat is, an' the warmer you 
 be. I would 'nt make any objections to people's doin' what 
 they like with 'emselves ; not a bit ; on the contrary, I make 
 soap to help 'em. They thinks it cleans 'em. If they 'd only 
 come an' see what things I put in it, they 'd get sick of that 
 idea shortly." 
 
 " You won't let any body in," complained the scorched gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " Good reason why !" cried the dusty gentleman, " 'T would 
 spile my business." 
 
 "Well, Gregory, how much corn did you want?" said 
 the Captain, "though I don't think I can afford it at that 
 price. 'Tis the best, my very best; better than last 
 year's." 
 
 Gregory said nothing. 
 
 "Libbitt," said the Captain, turning toward him, "if you 
 are up my way this week, I wish you 'd call ; my ash-hole is 
 about full. Calick, get the jug if you please, I want Mr. 
 Donoe to draw me some vinegar." 
 
 The scorched gentleman showed the red nose on one side 
 of the stove pipe, and exhibited with the one watery eye that
 
 
 56 CONE err CORNERS! 
 
 was visible, a considerable interest in the subject of vinegar. 
 But he said nothing. 
 
 " Oh ! Gregory," cried the Captain, just as the storekeeper 
 reached the door of the back room, " have you got any more 
 of that molasses ? I shall want some soon." 
 
 " Fve got some I think 's better," replied Gregory, " come 
 and try it." 
 
 Gregory disappeared, and the Captain followed him. 
 
 "Vinegar," said the gentleman with the scorched panta- 
 loons, to himself, nodding slowly, and at a convenient distance 
 from the stove pipe, " and molasses, together in proper pro- 
 portions, and diluted, form a very agreeable drink. H'm," 
 and his face gradually relaxed into a complacent smile at 
 the stove pipe. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Captain from the inner 
 room. 
 
 "Is that vinegar or molasses?" continued the scorched 
 gentleman, soliloquizing. "Vinegar is sharp, stinijinw', 
 scrapes your throat, ugh ! that must be the molasses. I M 
 like to know where he keeps that hogshead. I'd get 
 under the floor some night with a gimlet, and milk the 
 critter." 
 
 Just as Gregory and the Captain emerged from the back- 
 room, the Deacon came in from the street door. 
 
 " Good morning, Deacon Ficksom," said the Captain. 
 
 " Good morning," replied the Deacon, a little coldly. 
 
 " Stinging cold day," said the Captain. 
 
 "What a helter-skelter driver you are, Capp'n Mayferrie. 
 Nobody 's any business to be driving through our quiet 
 streets in such a noisy style. Dangerous, too."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 57 
 
 " Not a bit, sir," replied the Captain. " Here, Calick, set 
 that in the sleigh," said he, handing him the jug. 
 
 "You'll kill that horse of yours," continued the Deacon, 
 looking out of the window at the animal. He 's a coughing 
 now;" and the Deacon's ample features expressed a whole 
 library upon the Veterinary Art. 
 
 "Bless, you, Deacon," cried Mr..Mayferrie, merrily, "you 
 don 't know any thing about it. Calick," he continued " you 
 can drive up to your aunt Provy's now ; I will come along in 
 half an hour." 
 
 " I guess I '11 go along with you Calick," said the Deacon, 
 availing himself of the opportunity for a ride. " But Capp'n, 
 you ought n't to drive so furious." 
 
 Turning upon them, from the door, a countenance which 
 was as good as a prize essay on Cruelty to Animals, the Deacon 
 disappeared with Calick. 
 
 They got into the sleigh together. 
 
 " Drive around the pump," said the Deacon. 
 
 Calick obeyed. 
 
 " A little faster," suggested the Deacon, " I want to see his 
 paces." 
 
 Calick spoke to the horse for it needed but a word from 
 him and away they went. He took great pride in the 
 horse, and he watched the Deacon to see what he thought of 
 him. The Deacon said nothing ; but published a new edition 
 of the Veterinary Library. 
 
 "Calick," said the Deacon, as they neared his house, 
 " what 's in that jug ?" 
 
 "Vinegar," said Calick. 
 
 " Some of Donoe's, eh ?" 
 
 5*
 
 58 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Yes," said Calick. 
 
 " I just got some of Willick's," said the Deacon. " I won- 
 der which is the best." 
 
 " I guess I '11 just try Donoe's," continued he, taking up the 
 Captain's jug. 
 
 The idea of resisting any movement of the Deacon's never 
 entered Calick's head ; it .would have been preposterous. 
 
 Raising the jug to his knee, the worthy Deacon twisted out 
 the corn-cob in the most scientific manner, and applied his 
 lips to the mouth of the jug. 
 
 Whether it was because the jug was only partially filled, 
 or on account of the peculiar quality of the vinegar, we, who 
 did not enter the back-room of Gregory Donoe's store, can 
 not, of course, say ; but whatever may have been the reason, 
 the fact is undeniable, that the vessel. was lifted slowly to a 
 most remarkable angle, before the taste of the Deacon seemed 
 satisfied. 
 
 " Upon my word," said he at last, after a long breath, re- 
 placing the jug and rising to leave the sleigh at his own door. 
 " Upon my word, that is most remarkable vinegar."
 
 V. 
 
 DECEMBEK, 1835. 
 
 CAPTAIN MAYFER- 
 RIE, walking briskly 
 up the hill toward 
 Miss Provy Pease's, 
 not long afterward, 
 found Mother Nancy 
 standing at the front 
 door, watching for 
 
 the return of Calick, whom -she had dispatched in the Cap- 
 tain's sleigh, to bring the doctor. 
 
 "'Good morning, Mother Nancy," said the Captain, turning 
 up to the front gate. 
 
 " Good morning, Capp'n," returned Mother Nancy. 
 " And how," said the Captain, coming up the walk, slapping 
 his hands together, " and how are your patients P 
 
 " The mother 's but poorly," replied the nurse. " Calick's 
 just gone for the doctor, and I was a looking for him now. 
 Walk in, do."
 
 GO COKE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 The Captain complied, and they went into the little entry. 
 It was a peculiarity of Aunty Pease's little house, that it did not 
 seem small to the Captain; but it made the Captain seem 
 very large to himself. He laid his fur cap upon the table, 
 and the two went into the sitting-room. Captain Mayferrie 
 had to stoop a little to go through the door. 
 
 " We thought you would 'nt mind Calick's driving down 
 to the doctor's," said Mother Nancy. 
 
 " I am very glad the horse was of service," returned the 
 Captain. 
 
 They stood together by the blazing fire, Mother Nancy 
 warming her hands and rubbing them together, as though 
 she were washing them in warm air. Here too, they found 
 Aunty Pease tending the baby, as she had been doing ever 
 since it was old enough to be handled. She had just dis- 
 covered a new place for a bandage, which she was accordingly 
 putting on. 
 
 " And this is the new comer, is it ?" said Captain Mayferrie, 
 bending over it. The baby spasmodically opened its eyes for 
 an instant. It was but for an instant ; yet it was long enough 
 for Aunty Pease to notice that its eyes were the same as the 
 Captain's ; a fact which she silently cut off, and laid away to 
 be made up at leisure. 
 
 " Is n't it a be e uty ?" said she, holding up the baby 
 for inspection. 
 
 A fine baby, undoubtedly ; but still much like all babies ; 
 who usually in their general features, or rather in their general 
 want of features, resemble much their mother earth in her in- 
 fantile state ; being without much form and very void in their 
 personal appearance.
 
 CONE CUT COKNEB8. 61 
 
 " And what," inquired Captain Mayferrie, " are you going 
 to name her ?" 
 
 " That 's just the question," replied Mother Nancy. " What 
 do you say, Captain ?" 
 
 The baby, who had been making a dumb show of talking, 
 uttered a feeble cry, but was so astounded at the sound, that 
 it relapsed immediately into silence. 
 
 " There 's Lucinda," said Aunt Provy. " That 's a good 
 name. My grandmother was Lucinda. Lucinda Green ; and 
 when she married my grandfather, they used to laugh a great 
 deal about his having green peas all the year round. It used 
 to be the family joke. It 's a first rate name, and not easily 
 nicknamed either. She was a fine old lady was grandma 
 Cindy. They always used to call her Cindy, I recollect." 
 
 "There's Sarah," said Mother Nancy, "that's a good 
 name. 'T ain't too long, neither. And it 's easy to spell." 
 
 " What are you going to do for a last name ?" inquired 
 Captain Mayferrie. 
 
 " It might be well for her to follow her mother's," suggested 
 the nurse, dryly. 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " Chesslebury," replied Aunty Pease. 
 
 " "Who told you so ?" asked the Captain with some interest. 
 
 " Oh ! she told me so," replied Aunt Provy. " Lucretia 
 and I were talking there this morning about the Chessleburys, 
 when, as soon as she heard me say Chesslebury, she says, 
 ' Chesslebury ? Yes, ma'am. That 's my name. I am ex- 
 ceedingly happy to make your acquaintance, ma'am. I hope 
 you will do me the favor of calling.' Then I asked her if her 
 name was Chesslebury, but she did not understand me, I sup-
 
 62 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 pose, for slie only asked me if I could direct her to China. 
 She wanted to get a divining rod to find her treasure." 
 
 " Pooh !" said Mother Nancy, " I don't believe she 's a Ches- 
 slebury." 
 
 " Why, no," said Captain Mayferrie ; " It is n't likely. The 
 name struck her fancy, that's all." 
 
 " No !" exclaimed Aunt Provy with determination, u she 's 
 a Chesslebury. I know she is. Any way I 'm going to call 
 her so." 
 
 "I shouldn't think the Chessleburys would like it very 
 well," suggested the Captain. 
 
 " Like it very well !" echoed the nurse, " they '11 be whop- 
 pin' mad." 
 
 " I can 't help that," returned Aunt Provy ; which was very 
 true. " I think it 's a pity if I can 't name my own babies as 
 I want to. Well, you need n't laugh. She is my baby. 
 Ain't you ? you tinny, winny, dinny, little ting. So it was. 
 And it sail be a Sesslebury. Es, it sail." 
 
 The baby, by this time recovered from her previous aston- 
 ishment, did not receive this announcement with as much 
 favor as was to have been expected. It was beginning to cry 
 again. Aunty Pease, famous for her care of babies, clutched 
 it after the most approved fashion, and tossed it up and down, 
 stopping occasionally to kiss it, as though it were like a 
 medicine which must be well shaken before taken. She soon 
 succeeded in shaking temporarily out of its body what little 
 breath it had. Triumphant in her success, she laid it down, 
 upon her lap again, to recover its breath at its leisure, which 
 it did, with much gasping and many faces. 
 
 " Good voice, that."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 63 
 
 This the doctor said, coming in, rubbing his hands and 
 stamping his feet, with Calick following closely behind him. 
 
 " I heard her in the road as plain as " 
 
 He can think of no adequate comparison, and leaves the 
 sentence unfinished. 
 
 "Not so much volume though," said Captain Mayferrie, 
 "as " he was going to say "as Mother Nancy," but 
 checked himself just in time, and said " as she will have one 
 of these days." 
 
 " Well, no," said the doctor, " all the volumes of her voice 
 are not yet issued." 
 
 " Why not call her Sarah ?" asked Mother Nancy, " that 's 
 a good name." 
 
 " Oh, no, that won't do," said Aunt Provy. " It 's so easily 
 nicknamed. Beside it's too common. Now, there 's Amanda ; 
 that 's a pretty name, and you can't nickname that." 
 
 " Why, it 's as easy nicknamed as Sarah," replied the 
 nurse. " She '11 be Amy or Mandy wherever she goes. It 's 
 worse than Sarah, 'cause it 's longer." 
 
 "Oh, no, that's different," said Aunt Provy: "Those are 
 pet names ; that 's very different." 
 
 "What's the odds ?" asked Mother Nancy. 
 
 " Oh, there 's a great difference," said Aunt Provy. " Pet 
 
 names are are and nick-names are are 
 
 oh, they are very different altogether different." 
 
 " Ah !" said the nurse. 
 
 " Call her both," suggested Mr. Mayferrie ; " Sarah Aman- 
 da Chesslebury. That sounds well, Sarah Amanda Chessle- 
 bury." 
 
 " Good," said the doctor, " that 's first-rate, Sarah Amanda.
 
 64 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 And then the nickname will be Sal- Amanda. Capital. She 
 looks like a Salamander now." 
 
 Captain Mayfenie laughed ; but Mother Nancy and Aunt 
 Provy looked indignant. 
 
 "Tell you what," said Calick, breaking silence; "Fve a 
 notion. Make up a name. Take the first half of your name," 
 nodding toward the nurse, "and the last part of youTn," 
 nodding toward his aunt. " Call her Salanda." 
 
 " Hard to spell," suggested Miss Boggs. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said the doctor, opening a book upon the 
 mantle-shelf, and writing it as he spoke : " There," continued 
 he, holding it up for inspection, as he put a period to the 
 name. " Salanda, That looks well." 
 
 " It is a handsome name," said the Captain, " and it isn't 
 easily nicknamed either." 
 
 Aunt Provy, proud of Calick's originality, readily assented 
 to his suggestion ; stipulating, that for a middle name, the 
 baby should take her own ; and thus did the little stranger 
 gain the unique appellation of Salanda Pease Chesslebury. 
 
 The little crazy woman had lain for the most part quite 
 still, since the night before. She talked incessantly to herself, 
 and had a restless desire to get up and go on, on somewhere, 
 she knew not where for some thing, she never thought for 
 what. She minded very little what passed about her. She 
 did not notice whether it was Aunty Pease who came rustling, 
 bustling in, but rustling, bustling in a whisper ; or Mother 
 Nancy who trod heavily on tiptoe ; or Calick, as it once had 
 been Calick, whose boots would cry out with pain, tread 
 lightly as he might. She liked nothing better than to have
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 65 
 
 the baby laid close by her side, and she would lie quite still, 
 watching it and talking to it in an odd, rambling way, ask- 
 ing strange questions, and always herself supplying answers. 
 Miss Lucretia Oleanda Blossom had come in during the first 
 part of the morning with an orthographical purpose, intend- 
 ing, as she said, "to spell Mother Nancy;" and was now 
 sewing upon a very diminutive garment, while sitting by the 
 sick bed. 
 
 " Have you a beau, my dear ?" asks the crazy woman of 
 her, suddenly breaking a long silence. 
 
 Miss Lucretia Oleanda Blossom, bending over her sewing, ex- 
 amines with great particularity her stitches, but makes no reply. 
 
 Nor does she have much opportunity to do so, for the crazy 
 woman, without waiting for an answer, continues : 
 
 "A rainbow, I mean. I am told that there's always a 
 treasure to be found at the end of the rainbow. I think it 
 must be mine. Let me think ; who was it ? Oh ! the Em- 
 peror of all the Chinas told me so last night. And I would 
 advise you, my dear, to get the China ware ; it is the best ; 
 when you go to housekeeping. I promised him I would rec- 
 ommend his wares last night. I think we shall have rain 
 soon, too. It seems misty, I think ; very misty." 
 
 She raises her head a little, as though to look through a 
 misty atmosphere ; but soon lies down again. 
 
 The fire gives a little snap. 
 
 " What ! more champagne. Really this is too much, Em- 
 peror. No more, I thank you. No more for me. My head 
 is n't very strong. Not so strong as it used to be. Indeed, 
 I sometimes think it is very weak very weak." 
 
 This last is spoken in a sad manner, in strange contrast
 
 66 CONK CUT CORNER 8. 
 
 with the smirking expression with which she had said the 
 rest. After this she complains much, sometimes that it is 
 misty, sometimes that her head is weak or aches, and once 
 she imagines that she is an unfortunate "fly caught in a spider's 
 web, which she often tries to brush from off her face. From 
 such complaints her wandering mind is first attracted by the 
 doctor drawing a chair up by the bedside, and asking her 
 gently how she does this morning. 
 
 " Well ! very well, I thank you, sir," she replies, turning 
 her twinkling, rolling eyes toward his, " I never felt better, I 
 believe ; except my head. It aches. I think the waters were 
 very beneficial to me. Do you drink the waters ?" 
 
 After a short pause she continues : 
 
 " Water did you say ? Oh, yes ! I came across the water. 
 I 'm a pilgrim father. Oh, yes ! I 'm a pilgrim father. I 
 came across in the May Mayfeny." 
 
 They draw near around her bedside ; Aunt Provy, Mother 
 Nancy, Lucretia Oleanda. The Captain, in the room outside, 
 hearing his name pronounced, steps to the door which has 
 been left ajar, and looks through the crack. And Calick, 
 from contemplation of the fire, looks up wondering. 
 
 " What 's that ?" asks he. 
 
 " ITsh ! h'sh !" says the Captain, raising his hand. 
 
 Calick, from leaning back on the hind legs of his chair, 
 comes down suddenly, and not noiselessly, upon all four. He 
 then leans forward, his head in his hands and his elbows upon 
 
 " Oh, yes !" she repeats ; " in the Mayferry. And seems to 
 me it was there I lost my heart, somehow. Dear me, this 
 cobweb troubles me." She passes her hand over her face as
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 67 
 
 i- 
 
 if to brush it off. " Let me think. I can not seem to recol- 
 lect exactly." 
 
 The doctor takes her hand to feel her pulse ;- then strokes 
 it thoughtfully between his. 
 
 " Well, doctor ?" says Aunt Provy, anxiously. 
 
 The doctor shakes his head oracularly, as doctors some- 
 times will. It may mean, " Not as bad as I thought ;" or it 
 may mean, " Hopeless case ;" or it may merely mean, doubt 
 and anxiety. 
 
 " But he has given me back my heart," says the crazy wo- 
 man ; " he sent it back last night. See !" 
 
 The doctor's eyes follow hers. Both rest upon the little 
 messenger who brought it then ; who still keeps it. 
 
 The doctor takes her hand in his again, to feel her pulse. 
 This time he holds his watch in the other hand, and compares 
 together these two time-pieces. Then he knows that one is 
 running down fast running down. 
 
 His patient watches him with interest, while he holds her 
 hand in his ; and when he drops it, and puts back his watch, 
 she draws a long breath, and says : 
 
 " Please, was the Emperor of China here last night T' 
 
 " No !" says the doctor. 
 
 " Nor the angel Gabriel V 
 
 " No." 
 
 " It is misty very misty." 
 
 There is a short pause. 
 
 " It is very strange," she continues, pressing her head with 
 both her hands. " I think I have been dreaming. A strange 
 dream it was, but oh dear, this cobweb. Bring me my 
 baby, please."
 
 68 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 - 
 
 Aunt Provy brings it, and lays it by her side. She takes 
 its tiny hand in hers. 
 
 " Good-by, little one, I shall not be long gone. Doctor, let 
 me have your bill, please. I will pay it when I find nay treas- 
 ure. I am going for it now." 
 
 Calick now standing by the Captain's side, wonders to see 
 how pale he has become, and how he leans against the wall as 
 for support. 
 
 " Good-by all," says the little woman. She attempts to 
 wave her hand to them. It falls feebly by her side. 
 
 The time-piece is running down fast running down. 
 
 " It is quite clear now," she says, " there is my treasure. I 
 see it. Golden harps." 
 
 Calick, leaning forward, rests his hand upon the door. It 
 yields to his pressure with a gentle creaking. The rolling, 
 twinkling eyes turn toward the sound. 
 
 "JOHN!" 
 
 It rings through the room, bringing the doctor to his feet 
 with a start. The little woman raises herself erect in bed, 
 stretching her arms out toward the door. And so she sits. 
 The rolling, twinkling eyes grow still. The trembling arms 
 drop slowly by her side. The time-piece, with a rattle, runs 
 down never to be wound up again ; and a stray beam of the 
 sun, creeping through the folds of the darkening curtain, il- 
 lumines with a heavenly light, that face which earthly joys 
 had long since ceased to brighten.
 
 
 VI. 
 
 JANUABY AND JUNE, 1836. 
 
 ELDER GEAYNES was 
 one of those pastors who 
 do not wait to be sum- 
 moned of affliction or 
 trouble, but always seem 
 
 to be found where they are needed Avithout being sent for. 
 And so it happened that on the very afternoon of the day of 
 the poor wanderer's death, he walked gently into Aunt Provy's 
 house. Aunt Provy was not at all surprised to see him, be- 
 cause she never knew of his being wanted, when he did not 
 sooner or later come, having caught a whisper, or heard an 
 echo, or guessed a cause of trouble which required his 
 presence. 
 
 There are some hearts that are always shut up ; locked and 
 bolted all the tune, like houses in the night, Nothing can 
 enter at the front door, it is barred. Nothing can break in at 
 the front windows, the blinds are closed, the sashes latched, 
 the shutters within close fastened. Nothing on the roof; the
 
 70 CONECUT^fcORNERS. 
 
 skylight is padlocked on the inside. But passing by all 
 ordinary approaches and all anticipated places of entrance, 
 there may perchance be found in some out of the -way corner, 
 an unfastened side-light which will admit the hand to turn 
 a key. 
 
 So it had been with the little seamstress. She had lived all 
 her life with an empty, close-shut heart. All ordinary ap- 
 proaches failed to touch her feelings and awaken her thoughts 
 to any deep and permanent purposes. She had lost her 
 mother, wept, and that was all. Her father, wept again, 
 mourned with her brother that they were left alone with no 
 relative in the world, and then forgot her grief without 
 learning its interpretation and its lesson. Happiness came 
 over her like sunshine, and still the windows of her heart 
 were not opened. She liked her nephew Calick. She 
 could not help liking him, although he gently crossed her 
 wishes sometimes ; but she had never found any body else of 
 all her friends on earth to love, and beyond the earth, she 
 hitherto had had no thought. 
 
 But now it seemed as if the circumstances of that night 
 and morning, though they were unconnected with her own 
 welfare, and did not address themselves to her as personal 
 griefs, had yet, in some loop-hole, found an entrance and 
 gained access. 
 
 It was with soberness and in silence that she conducted 
 the Elder into the dark front room where the mother lay ; 
 and with tears, with strange tears, that she showed him after- 
 ward, in the other room, the little babe. 
 
 Elder Graynes assumed the burden of the funeral, which 
 was very simple and quiet. And thereafter Aunt Provy, not
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 7l 
 
 without countenance and assistance from Mrs. Graynes, took 
 upon herself the care of the infant who had been cast thus 
 suddenly upon the world. What with sober thoughts newly 
 up-springing in her mind, what with her usual cares and daily 
 employments, and what with the attentions required by her 
 little charge, which were of a nature involving cares that, to 
 an elderly maiden lady, are undoubtedly as perplexing as 
 novel, Aunt Provy found the hours of her day well filled. 
 
 But not in all these occupations was her curiosity drowned. 
 She spent more strength than ever upon Captain Mayferrie's 
 case, and evolved more theories upon his origin, cause, pro- 
 gress and destiny, than would have sufficed to account for the 
 existence of several hundred Salandas. She made diligent 
 research into the two great problems where did Captain 
 Mayferrie come from ? and, who was Salanda's mother 2 
 These problems she daily cyphered upon the slate of imagi- 
 nation, but failed to accomplish their solution. Every morn- 
 ing she commenced the work afresh, and filled the day with 
 calculations in which one problem always ran into the other, 
 and the other returned to seek its answer in the first. Nor 
 did she find relief from her daily recurring perplexity, until 
 the sponge of sleep wiped out the figures, and left the tablets 
 clear for the calculations of another day. 
 
 All this however, was at home, and amid the freshness of 
 her novel household cares. A storm which prevailed for 
 some days after the funeral of Salanda's mother, prevented 
 the working of the telegraph, and communication with the 
 world abroad, was, to a great extent, suspended by Aunt 
 Provy. She however sent several messages to the Captain, 
 
 by word of Calick, but the only answer Calick got, was an 
 
 .
 
 72 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 inquiry upon the part of the Captain, of how the infant was 
 doing, and Calick became discouraged, and resolved to carry 
 no more. 
 
 At last, however, a fine morning came ; the murkiness of 
 earth gave way to the brilliancy of heaven, and the sun wrote 
 in golden letters across the white landscape, a reflection which 
 care-worn and over-anxious men would do well to bear in 
 mind. Earth might have eternal sunshine, if it were not for 
 the clouds of its own gathering. The air was very keen and 
 cold, but it was not in the power of the chilly air of a clear 
 winter's day, to keep Aunt Provy in the house. Although 
 sensitive to storms, she was impervious to cold. So she re- 
 solved to seize upon this first opportunity for a visit to the 
 Captain. 
 
 In the middle of the forenoon therefore, she dressed herself 
 for a winter's walk ; putting on strangest of women a pair 
 of stout bootees, and over these a pair of Calick's thickest 
 woolen stockings ; and robing herself warmly in cloak, hood, 
 veil, shawls, mittens and mufflers. Thus appareled, and con- 
 fiding the baby to the temporary care of Miss Lucretia Oleanda 
 Blossom, she sallied forth. If she looked cold, it was only as 
 does the quicksilver in the thermometer; by shrinking into 
 the smallest possible compass, and looking brighter than ever 
 there. 
 
 It was a bleak walk up that long hill. 
 
 Aunt Provy reached her destination and entered the house, 
 according to custom, by the back-door, and without the cere- 
 mony of numbing her cold knuckles with a knock. 
 
 She found the Captain and Calick in the great kitchen 
 shelling corn. The Captain seemed to anticipate a com er.-a-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 73 
 
 tion, for he rose, suspended his work, and invited Aunt Provy 
 to a seat on the settle. He took no seat himself. 
 
 "Cold day," said the Captain. 
 
 Miss Provy seated herself, but did not immediately speak. 
 She had lost her breath on the hill, and sat waiting for it to 
 overtake her. At last it came, and she said, 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Then she fell to gazing at the fire, with occasional glances 
 at the Captain. Calick, under pretence of carrying away the 
 basket of cobs, was about to leave the room. 
 
 " Don't go, Calick," interposed the Captain, quietly. 
 
 Aunt Provy was perhaps never before afraid of any 
 thing, except spiders ; such as took her by surprise from 
 unexpected ambuscades. Now, however, she began to think 
 she had better let the Captain alone. But in silence she 
 gained courage. 
 
 " You have n't been down to see the baby again ?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " We thought to be sure you would come down to the 
 funeral," said Aunt Provy. 
 
 " Well, no," said the Captain, " I don't enjoy funerals." 
 
 Aunt Provy continued, without noticing the interruption. 
 
 " To the funeral of your own " 
 
 "Don't call her mine," interrupted the Captain. "I've 
 claimed no one." 
 
 " So much the worse," retorted she. " It 's little excuse to 
 say you don't claim her. That 's the very thing. Why don't 
 you ? Come now, Mr. Mayferrie, was n't she your " 
 
 " She 's none of mine," interposed he. " I don't own her." 
 
 "Oh h h, Cap'u Mayferrie," cried Aunt Provy, lifting
 
 7.4 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 her hands in determined astonishment. " If your own flesli 
 and blood don't belong to you, whose are they ?" 
 
 " Miss Pease," said the gentlemanly man, quite unmoved 
 externally by her appeal, " you have called me Captain. It 
 was the first time I enjoyed the honor, but I made no objec- 
 tions. You now would give me a more domestic title. It is 
 nothing to me. No more in the one case than in the other. 
 I'have nothing to say. Please go on." 
 
 Aunt Provy looked at the fire, and secretly wished the Cap- 
 tain was not so polite. If she could find the slightest rent of 
 ill-temper in his guise, she could speedily tear off the whole 
 robe. 
 
 " Well," said she, after a short pause, " well so far so 
 good. You don't deny 'it. Now your poor little daughter is 
 left alone. Nobody but such as me to care for her. She 's a 
 half orphan now. Are you going to stand off this way and 
 double it 1 Oh ! how can you ?'* 
 
 " I tell you now," said he, earnestly; " that of all your quick 
 head can think of to say, and all your quicker tongue can say 
 without thinking of it, I shall deny nothing. It will be time 
 enough to deny when a charge of something is made. But, 
 all the stories you heap up over me, the better my conceal- 
 ment is. I speak frankly. The more there are, the better my 
 purpose is served. Go on, please." 
 
 " Cap'n Mayferrie," returned the little lady, " it's time to 
 deny it now. I charge you with it," cried she, pointing at 
 him. " You know you have. I charge you now." 
 
 With an unconscious suiting of the action to the word, she 
 started from the seat, and with her finger outstretched like a 
 bayonet, she charged upon the Captain.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 75 
 
 " You Vo deserted your wife. She came after you, and you 
 disown her. She dies, and you won't speak to her. She 's 
 buried, and you won't go near her. And you 're a great, hard- 
 hearted, unnatural man. You did it. I know 't was so. 
 There 's one thing, you shan't have the baby. I 'm glad you 
 disown it. You don't deserve it. There 's only one thing 
 that makes me think it don't belong to you, and that is, that 
 it 's a cherub, which you ain't." 
 
 " Miss Pease," said the Captain, " I feel an interest in that 
 child." 
 
 " Oh, you do, do you ?" cried she. " So you 're a-coming 
 to your senses, are you ?" 
 
 "And I intend that she shall be well provided for," con- 
 tinued he, disregarding the interruption. " Some time when 
 you recover your usual quietness and good sense, I shall be 
 happy to talk with you." 
 
 " Oh, I 'm quiet ! I 'm quiet now," cried the little old lady, 
 with the calmness of a small hurricane, and marching up and 
 down the room in a quickstep of excitement. " I 'm quiet. 
 I 'm quiet." 
 
 The Captain walked back and forth at the other side of 
 the room, and was silent for a few moments. Aunt Provy 
 bustled back and forth, repeating that she was quiet. She 
 beat the Captain at every turn, and made three trips to his 
 two. The Captain spoke. 
 
 " Listen, Calick." 
 
 Calick, who was already all wide-mouthed attention, leaned 
 forward and put his hand to his ear as if he had been deaf. 
 
 " She was happy," commenced the Captain, " and so was 
 her husband. She had every thing to make her happv tluit
 
 76 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 she could have, I suppose. She had every luxury, but that 
 was not enough for her. She took to drinking. First, fash- 
 ionably ; finally, like a brute. I broke her of it once. By 
 force. I made her give it up. She did not dare give way to 
 it then, with me. But once, when I was out of town, she 
 broke her word and my commands, and I found her stupidly 
 besotted. You don't know what she was. She was an ele- 
 g'ant, educated, accomplished, brilliant, beautiful woman. She 
 became a senseless idiot. I forswore her. She went crazy. 
 She was despised by those on the same road, and going after 
 her. I was pointed at. Four months after she broke her 
 solemn pledge to me, she was raving mad in the asylum. I 
 had her cared for by others. I swore I would never own her 
 nor claim her disgrace" as nine. I never will. 'T will be 
 enough if she drags me after her." 
 
 Here a pause. The Captain was walking faster now. He 
 strode heavily over the floor. Aunt Provy stood gazing at 
 him. 
 
 "The child is her daughter," said he, more calmly now 
 again. " I shall provide for it in a proper way, but I '11 never 
 own it for mine. I have n't left my home, and all to which 
 I belonged, and set myself down here out of the way, to be 
 hunted out and taxed with her abominably evil ways. The 
 child 's hers. She may turn out worthy of her mother. I '11 
 not own her. She shan't want for any thing reasonable but 
 parents, but that I won't be. I '11 have no more of her or 
 hers." 
 
 " Now, you understand the story. I Ve only two courses. 
 I shall take just which you like. You love the child, I see. I 
 am glad. I shall support her and provide well fur her. I will
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 77 
 
 pay well for your trouble. And you shall tell any story about 
 her except the true one ; or none at all, and that 's better still. 
 I lore the child, and that 's the reason I '11 not have her. 
 There 's been one woman ruined in my house already. If you 
 will be a mother to her I am thankful. That 's one course. 
 If, however, you say a word about what I 've told you, I shall 
 take the child from you and go. You may do which you 
 like. It makes no difference to me. Speak of it if you pre- 
 fer, but the day you speak I shall hear, and the day I hear I 
 shall go with her." 
 
 Upon this basis Aunt Provy finally decided to accept the 
 charge of the infant. And, in company of Calick, she has- 
 tened home to relieve Lucretia Oleanda. 
 
 " Mind, Calick," said the Captain, as they were going out. 
 " You understand. I know your aunt's ways, and I do n't 
 believe she can help telling all she knows, and more, for the 
 matter of that. I 'm quite indifferent as to what she says, but 
 you understand that I shall not stop here to hear any of her 
 gossip circulate. I shall not and the child shall not." 
 
 Aunt Provy winced under this cut, but she bit her tongue 
 and kept it still. 
 
 " And if the child lives, you are to say nothing to her of it. 
 She shall not be burdened with her mother's disgrace. What- 
 ever she is to know, I will tell her myself when the time 
 comes." 
 
 With this further admonition, Captain Mayferrie bowed 
 them out, in his own gentlemanly manner, and they directed 
 their steps toward the village. 
 
 " La, me," cried Aunty Pease, " what a man ! I never saw 
 such a one. To think of his tellino- such stories about that
 
 78 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 poor, dear, crazy woman. She could n't be such a bad -wo- 
 man, for she was so good, and so intelligent too, though she 
 was a little wandering in her mind." 
 
 "But Aunt," said Calick, "what shall you say about the 
 little child V 
 
 " Oh ! I shan't say a word. I '11 let the Capp'n see that I 
 can keep a secret as well as any body. I '11 go right down 
 this very moment and see Mrs. Ficksom about it." 
 
 " That 's a good beginnin'," said Calick. " If the greatness 
 of a secret goes by the number of people there are in it, 
 it '11 be the biggest kind of a secret afore Sunday, for all the 
 town '11 be in it." 
 
 " Good gracious ! Calick, how can you talk so 1 You know 
 I was n't going to tell every body. But Mrs. Ficksom ought 
 to know. She 's the Deacon's wife, and she 's taken a deal of 
 interest in Capp'n Mayfenie, for she said to me one night at 
 the sewin' circle, says she, 'I think that somebody ought to 
 look after that Mr. Mayferrie,' says she, ' because,' says she, ' we 
 don't know any thing about his private affairs,' and says she, 
 ' our girl Deborah was up there at Squire Blankes's, and she 
 said that Maldie that 's Squire Blankes's girl said that 
 Martha told her how the Captain drank; and she said just 
 how many times he filled his demijohn in a week,' I think it 
 was in a week, and Mrs. Ficksom says to me that some 
 body must take the lead in this thing and find out, ' because,' 
 says she, ' if the man drinks all the time, of course he can't 
 work ; and then where does his money come from.' Yes, Mrs. 
 Ficksom is very much interested in him ; and I think she 'd 
 ought to know." 
 
 "And Mrs. Groynes?" suggested Calick, inquiringly.
 
 COKE CUT CORNERS. 79 
 
 *' Why yes I suppose she ought to know. Yes, oh, yes ! 
 of course the minister's wife ought to know. She 's very 
 much interested in him. Not so much in him as Mrs. Fick- 
 som is, because Mrs. Ficksom said she was. Says she, ' Oh, 
 I do want to know all about him.' But Mrs. Graynes ought 
 to know, because she 's very much interested about the baby. 
 Yes, I think I ought to tell her." 
 
 " And Lucretia Oleanda T said Calick 
 
 *" Why, Lucretia was really very kind, and she helped 
 me so much, and then she heard all that the poor mother 
 said. Yes, I think she ought to know. I ought to tell 
 her." 
 
 " Well," said Calick, "I'm glad to understand, for I '11 tell 
 Captain Mayferrie to-night to take the child, poor thing." 
 
 " Why, Calick ! la me ! you talk just as if I was a-going to 
 let out &e secret. No such a thing. But don't you think 
 Mrs. Ficksom has a right to know about it 1" 
 
 If Aunty Pease had an interest in the baby, Calick was con- 
 cerned for the Captain. There were those elements of nobility 
 in the stranger's character which took hold strongly on Ca- 
 lick's simple-hearted affection, and he had seen indications of 
 danger in the gradual approaches of intemperance, that ap- 
 pealed to his compassion, and made him resolve to do what ho 
 could, in a humble way, to save the Captain. Under this 
 hope he said to his aunt, 
 
 " I think we may do both of 'em a very good turn, if we 're 
 good friends. The poor man has seen trouble, and he 's down- 
 hearted and 'most desperate. As for the baby, she 's got no- 
 thin' but a name, and we don't know as that belongs to her. 
 If they go off from here, there 's no knowin' what '11 become
 
 80 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 of 'etn. As for these women folks, if you think they ought to 
 know, why tell 'em. Only I shall tell the Capp'n." 
 
 Aunt Provy seemed quite undecided as to her duties to the 
 friends of Mr. Mayferrie in the village, and very unusually, was 
 silent for the space of full fifteen minutes, at which period she 
 reached her home. Here, on seeing the baby, which had grown 
 measurably, as she declared, since morning, she nearly smoth- 
 ered it with hugging, and said to Calick, " If you ever catch me 
 saying a word about the story to any body you '11 know it." 
 
 Calick thought so too. And to make the more sure, he 
 thereafter paid more attention to the talk of the women folks 
 than ever before he could have deemed possible. 
 
 It was not enough, however, that Aunt Provy should say 
 nothing. Informatioa of the arrival of a mysterious little 
 stranger being speedily noised abroad in the town, and the 
 wags of the village wittily circulating the news in the jocular 
 remark that " Aunt Pease had got a baby," the story of events 
 connected with Salanda's birth, gained extensive circulation. 
 Many editions of the tale, enlarged and improved, with notes, 
 introductions, appendices, and promises of sequels, were 
 brought out in the village, and Salanda was made the heroine 
 of a great many romances before she was a mouth old. 
 
 But as the gossip received no stimulus from the conversa- 
 tion of Aunt Provy, and as the gentlemanly man showed him- 
 self entirely indifferent to the whole discussion, it gradually 
 died out, and gave place, in course of time, to other inquiries 
 upon subjects equally important in their day and generation. 
 
 One pleasant morning in the next summer, when earth had 
 put off her winter cloak, and assumed the gay garment of green
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 81 
 
 again, Mr. Mayferrie and Calick, on their way down the 
 hill from the farm to the village, were passing the burying 
 ground. 
 
 " Calick," said the Captain, " there ought to be a grave 
 stone." 
 
 " Yes, sir," responded Calick. 
 
 The Captain stopped, and leaned against the wall. 
 
 " Yes, Calick, there ought to be a grave stone, or the poor 
 child will never know even so much as where the dust of her 
 mother lie^>." 
 
 " I would set one," said Calick, speaking gently, after some 
 silence, " if I knew what you would have on it." 
 
 " I should like to have you do it," replied the Captain. " A 
 plain stone without inscription, will mark the spot. It is 
 better than nothing." 
 
 And so the stone was set. 
 
 By midnight moonlight, a tall, manly form came slowly 
 down the hill, and, passing the meeting-house, entered the 
 burying-ground by the arched gateway. He looked carefully 
 about him, but seeing no one, he rapidly approached the 
 newly turfed mound, and stooped, uncovered, at the marble 
 stone. Its pale white face shone mournfully upon him in the 
 moonlight. 
 
 With a ready pencil he sketched, and with a dexterous 
 chisel he lightly cut upon the stone the one word : 
 
 MOTHER. 
 
 It was a task of some time, and somewhat rudely done at 
 that. lie lingered over the word too, touching and retouch-
 
 82 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 ing here and there. At last he laid aside his tools, and wiped 
 his brow. 
 
 " Oh ! oh !" sighed he. " It could never mean any thing 
 to anybody else ; and this is all that it can say even to her, 
 poor child I" 
 
 And then he went away.
 
 
 VII. 
 
 MARCH, 1843. 
 
 TIME with his scythe 
 had mown the hair from 
 Elder Graynes' "forehead, 
 and made a place there 
 to plant a wig, although 
 no wig had as yet been 
 planted. 
 
 The same industrious 
 
 farmer had plowed deeper furrows in the Deacon's face, 
 and brought its capacities of varied expression into a higher 
 state of cultivation than ever before. 
 
 He had, in leisure moments, carved the lineaments of 
 Calick's countenance into the expression of maturity. He 
 had made many other changes in Cone Cut Corners also, 
 more or less noticeable and important. He passed his hand 
 very lightly over Aunt Provy, to be sure, bringing her only a 
 pair of silver spectacles, which she rarely found need to use ; 
 but then, on the other hand, he had magnified Salanda 
 through all the sizes of 'infancy and childhood, and now adding 
 up the years of her life, he computed her to be seven years old.
 
 84 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Time, in making these changes, did not pass by, untouched, 
 the gentlemanly man. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie was no longer a young man. He no 
 longer went to meeting with jet black boots. He no longer 
 frequented the society of the village except those circles 
 which gathered in Gregory Donoe's store. The ambitions of 
 men change with their ages. Captain Mayferrie now no 
 longer plumed himself upon the hay crop, nor prided himself 
 upon his seed-corn. He thought less of his oxen now, and 
 more of his horses. He cared little for his ax, but a good 
 deal for his fishing-pole. He had built him a new cider-mill, 
 and his orchard was now esteemed by him, more according to 
 the quantity of its products, than their quality. 
 
 In short, Captain Mayferrie had passed that time of his life 
 when respectability was his most cherished luxury. 
 
 Time, who had quieted the inquiries, and speculations, and 
 gossipings, which sprang up upon the occasion of Salanda's 
 birth, thought fit to raise them to life again ; and to do it 
 through the instrumentality of Mrs. Gregory Donoe. 
 
 Gregory Donoe, the Captain's friend, was a man very well 
 to do in the world, as we have already had reason to judge. 
 He was prosperous, and, after the manner of men, happy. 
 He had nevertheless one affliction he was about to lose his 
 wife. It is not often that a husband can obtain definite and 
 reliable information of the exact date of his approaching 
 widowerhood ; but Mrs. Donoe had marked with an ink-blot 
 in her husband's almanac, the twenty-third of April, as the 
 day of her undoubted departure from this earthly scene, and 
 was arranging her family affairs with a view to a public 
 ascension upon that day. 
 
 '
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. So 
 
 In other words, Mrs. Gregory Donoe was a confirmed 
 Millerite ; a believer in that faith which was then somewhat 
 prevalent in New England, and which, by a careful casting 
 up of the accounts of the prophecies, demonstrated the certain 
 destruction of this globe upon the 23d of April, 1843. 
 
 As the spring of that fated year advanced, Mrs. Donoe 
 began to be less and less interested in such sublunary affairs 
 as breakfasts and dinners, parlors and bedrooms, furniture and 
 clothing, gusts, customers and charges, until it really seemed 
 as if she were indeed about to give up the business of living 
 altogether. As the month of April drew near, she grew more 
 and more enthusiastic in the work of preparing ascension- 
 robes for herself and Tommy. Tommy was a young Donoe 
 of some fifteen or eighteen months old. He was not, to be 
 sure, a very strong believer in Millerism, but then, as his 
 mother said, he was " so young and innocent like, he would 
 go right straight up by his own heft when the time came, and 
 think nothing at all about it." 
 
 Mrs. Donoe's Millerism might not have disturbed her hus- 
 band much if it had been confined to a quiet opinion in her 
 own mind, which did not interrupt the regular performance of 
 her domestic duties. But, unhappily, the case was otherwise. 
 Nothing in the house was properly washed but ascension- 
 robes. Very often there was neither breakfast, dinner, nor 
 supper, prepared for Gregory. For a time he submitted to 
 live on casual luncheons in the store. But before long he be- 
 gan to tire of the limited variety of that establishment, and 
 he concluded that the world would come to an end for him, 
 pretty soon, if he was not careful. And so he told the Cap- 
 tain ; who cheered him up by the assurance that, if he could
 
 86 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 only get along by the twenty-third, he guessed things would 
 all come out right after all. 
 
 Mrs. Donoe derived the information, which supported her 
 in her controversial discussions uptm the melancholy subject 
 which occupied her thoughts, from a villainous-looking sheet 
 styled, " The Midnight Cry," a newspaper of a somber cast of 
 mind, devoted to the elucidation of such problems as : 
 
 Given, a beast with seven heads and ten horns, numbered 
 666, the date of the Babylonish captivity, not very definitely 
 settled, a guess that the word " time " in prophecy means a 
 period of three hundred and sixty years, a period of seventy 
 weeks with leave to make it as many centuries long as you 
 choose, as many beasts with heads, horns, wings, legs, and 
 tails, ad libitum, as the nature of the argument may seem to 
 demand, and such h'ke data ; 
 
 Required, to compute the time of the general end of all 
 things. 
 
 This sheet, being printed in extremely black type, and 
 profusely illustrated with graphic portraits of the various 
 beasts by which the argument was supported, was by no 
 means what one would call light reading ; and was not at all 
 calculated to give a lively or exhilarating turn to Mrs. Donoe's 
 discussions with her friends. 
 
 These discussions, although they turned chiefly upon the cer- 
 tainty with which the destruction of the world on the twenty- 
 third of April might be counted upon, involved a further, 
 though subordinate debate, upon the positions, prospects, and 
 chances of all the neighbors. It was a great point with Mrs. 
 Donoe to assure herself, who, upon the promised day was 
 likely to go up ; who, down.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 87 
 
 Foremost upon the latter list in the opinion of Mrs. Donoe, 
 stood Captain Mayferrie. Her reasons for despairing of his 
 future safety, were thus interpreted to that gentleman by Aunt 
 Provy, one afternoon, when she met him in the village street. 
 
 " La ! Captain," said she, " do you know, Mrs. Donoe's been 
 saying most awful things about you. Mrs. Tripp was over to 
 see me this afternoon, and says she, I was down at Squire 
 Cartrock's, and Mrs. Cartrock said her girls was up to the hill 
 a little while ago, up to Mrs. Buxton's, and Mrs. Buxton says 
 that if you 're what Mrs. Donoe says you are, you 're not fit to 
 live ; them 's her very words." 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" laughed the Captain. 
 
 " She says, you know Mrs. Donoe 's a Millerite, and be- 
 lieves the world 's a coming to an end next month, she says 
 all sorts of things about you, and Mrs. Buxton told the Cart- 
 rock girls that she heard that Mrs. Donoe told her husband 
 that you was a reprobate ; and, says she, the poor girl was his 
 victim, and the child 's his outcast." 
 
 " I 'm much obliged to you for telling me," said the Cap- 
 tain ; " I must call on Mrs. Donoe some night, I think, if she 's 
 going to bring that old gossip all up again." 
 
 Nor did the Captain forego his intention. A few nights 
 later he stood in Gregory Donoe's store, as the storekeeper 
 was preparing to close for the night. 
 
 " Is your wife waiting for the end of the world as patient 
 as ever T' he inquired of the proprietor of the establishment. 
 
 " Yes, just the same," was the reply. 
 
 "She expects to go up before the fire, don't she 1 ?" con- 
 tinued Captain Mayferrie. 
 
 " I believe she does," answered the storekeeper, somewhat
 
 88 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 absently. He was putting some packages away in a drawer 
 clown under the counter. 
 
 " It would n't be quite unexpected, if she was to be called 
 away to-night, would it ?" asked the Captain. 
 
 "What?" said Gregory, looking up quickly, and closely 
 scanning the expression of the Captain's face. 
 
 " It would n't come much amiss, would it," said the Cap- 
 tarn, repeating his inquiry ; but this time with a nod and a 
 wink, which seemed to make a far greater impression on the 
 trader's mind than did the language of the question, " if she 
 was to be called for to-night? not if she would come back 
 to breakfast in her sober senses ?" 
 
 " Mayferrie," exclaimed the storekeeper with an appreciat- 
 ing smile, " you 're a regular brick. What '11 you take to 
 drink ?" And with unprecedented generosity, he poured out 
 a full glass of the Captain's favorite beverage, and treated him, 
 gratis. 
 
 That night was a cold and blustering March night. About 
 one o'clock some one rapped sharply outside the window of 
 the room where Mr. Donoe and his wife were quietly sleeping. 
 
 " Mrs. Donoe," cried a voice from without ; a sort of mid- 
 night cry. 
 
 " What do you want ?" said Mr. Donoe, in reply. 
 
 " Mrs. Donoe," responded the midnight cry, " Mrs. Donoe ; 
 I '11 not talk to an unbeliever." 
 
 " What is it ?" said Mrs. Donoe rising hastily and going to 
 the window. 
 
 " I Ve come for you," replied the cry without, laconically, 
 " come along ; I 'm in a hurry."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 89 
 
 "Who is it 1 ?" inquired Mrs. Donoe, peering out from be- 
 hind the curtain. 
 
 " I 'm an angel," was the answer. " We 're a going to cany 
 up all the saints before the twenty-third ; and they 've sent me 
 for you, so come along." 
 
 " Oh, Gregory !" exclaimed his wife, bursting into tears, " I 
 must go with him, I must, I must. Oh, dear me ! Do come 
 too, now. Now you know it 's all true what I Ve told you so 
 many times. Only believe, and we '11 go up together. Oh, dear." 
 
 " Don't go, Mary," remonstrated her husband, " I would 'nt, 
 it 's too cold ; besides that ain't an angel, I don't believe." 
 
 " Yes it is," said Mrs. Donoe, " and I must go." 
 
 " Come, be quick," said the angel, " I 'm as cold as thunder, 
 waiting out here." 
 
 " Did you ever hear of a cold angel ?" asked Mr. Donoe of 
 his wife, argumentatively. 
 
 Mrs. Donoe made no reply. She busied herself with the 
 preparations that were necessary for her departure. There 
 was but little for her to do, since she had done nothing for a 
 month previous but arrange her affairs for this crisis. Grief 
 in her heart filled her eyes with tears, for, with all her folly, 
 she loved her husband truly. To be parted from him for any 
 cause, would have been a great affliction to her, but to leave 
 him thus, was doubly painful. He, on the other hand, seemed 
 but little moved by the prospect of her departure, but then it 
 must be considered that he was not, perhaps, then fairly 
 awake. At one time indeed, he seemed almost overcome 
 with emotion, but he soon stifled it under the blankets. 
 What kind of emotion it was, is not easily determined. He, 
 however, repeated his advice, that she should disregard the
 
 90 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 dubious summons, but to no effect ; an angel called her, and 
 she must go. 
 
 " Mayn 't I take little Tommy ?" said she, addressing the angel 
 without, " I Ve got his robes all ready." 
 
 u No, no," said he, " I 'm coming for all the babies next 
 week ; let him be ; and come along yourself quicker, do you 
 suppose an angel can wait forever ?" 
 
 Mrs. Donoe bid a hasty farewell to her husband, in which 
 tears, Millerite Theology, kisses, expostulations, and womanly 
 affection, were strangely mingled, gave the sleeping Tommy 
 a parting caress ; and then, weeping bitterly, sallied out into 
 the cold and blustering night. 
 
 She found her angel in earthly guise, resembling a stage- 
 driver as much as any thing. He was warmly clothed from 
 head to foot, wore a warm fur cap and shaggy woolen com- 
 forter, and stood in as stout a pair of boots as ever cased the 
 feet of a mortal. As Mrs. Donoe had never been led to con- 
 ceive of angels in such a form and dress, but, on the contrary, 
 had supposed them to consist of the head and wings usually 
 assigned to them by imaginative artists, she felt her confidence 
 in his muffled angelhood somewhat shaken. She gazed upon 
 his countenance to discern that radiant glory which she sup- 
 posed would there appear ; but it was dimmed and quenched 
 between the fur cap which was pulled down low over his eyes, 
 and the comforter, which was tied around the lower part of 
 his face, concealing every thing below the bridge of his nose. 
 
 The angel, however, gave her no time for questions, but 
 grasping her arm started off with her down the road at a 
 brisk pace. 
 
 "How are we going up 1 ?" inquired Mrs. Donoe, timidly,
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 91 
 
 after they had trudged some three or four minutes. " We ain't 
 going to walk all the way, I suppose, are we ?" 
 
 " No" said the angel, " I Ve got a chariot of fire down along 
 a piece, when we get to it." 
 
 " A chariot of fire," exclaimed Mrs. Donoe, mentally. The 
 possibility that this would be the mode of her ascension had 
 never occurred to her. She had expected to go up in the bal- 
 loon style, as being safer, and more in accordance with the 
 teachings of the Millerite prophets. However, there was 
 nothing to be said about the matter, and the two walked on 
 half a mile in silence* The angel would not talk, and Mrs. 
 Donoe dared not ; but she began to fear that the angels were 
 very unsocial creatures. But at last, as they reached a place 
 where two roads met, the angel spoke : 
 
 " You wait here," said he. 
 
 " What for ?" said Mrs. Donoe. " I don't see the chariot." 
 
 " We have n't come to that yet," replied the angel. " I 've 
 to go up this other road after two more sisters ; then we '11 all 
 go on to it." 
 
 So saying, he led Mrs. Donoe to a rock by the side of the 
 road, which afforded her a seat, and telling her to sit down 
 there until he came back, started off upon his errand. Mrs. 
 Donoe sat patiently down to await his return. 
 
 " By the way," thought she, " if I 'm going up in a chariot 
 of fire, I guess I '11 carry up some snow ; perhaps it '11 be hot." 
 
 So saying, she crowded snow into her shoes and bonnet, as 
 well as into such parts of her dress as the construction of her 
 robe allowed ; in order to be protected as much as possible 
 from the clement to which she was to be exposed. 
 
 Time passed slowly on, but no angel appeared. In vain
 
 92 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 the deserted lady stood up upon her seat, and looked eagerly 
 to see him corning down the hill with the promised compan- 
 ions of her journey. He came not. In vain she turned about, 
 and strove to catch in the dim distance some flashes of light 
 which might disclose to her the stopping-place of the chariot. 
 No light revealed its form. No light could she discern, ex- 
 cept that the gray rays which warn us of the morning were 
 beginning to make their appearance in the east. Day was 
 dawning ; but faster than its tardy coming, dawned the light 
 of truth upon her mind. Weary, cold, wet, indignant, she 
 resolved to await no longer the coming of her deceptive angel, 
 but to return to her husband and her home. 
 
 Accordingly, about five o'clock, Mr. Donoe was aroused 
 by another tap at his window ; this time a light and timid one. 
 
 " Who 's there ?" said he. 
 
 " I," was the answer. 
 
 " Well, I know that," said Mr. Donoe, "but who is I?" 
 
 " Your wife, your own Mary," answered Mrs. Donoe. 
 
 "Not a bit of it," said Mr. Donoe; "my wife went off with 
 an angel in the middle of the night ; I expect she 's far enough 
 off by this time." 
 
 " Oh, Gregory !" replied his weeping wife, " do let me in, 
 I 've come back ; only try me, and I never will be such a fool 
 again." 
 
 Mr. Donoe gladly received his wife home again, and neither 
 heard nor saw more of her Millerism. The dust again flew 
 from the shelves and chairs betimes ; the frying-pan sputtered 
 in the morning, as of old, and the tea-kettle hissed and sang 
 at twilight. The wash-tub returned to its wonted activity, 
 and order and comfort reigned again in the household.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 93 
 
 The Captain, accidentally passing the domestic entrance of 
 Gregory Donoe's one bright morning in the first week of Mrs. 
 Donoe's re-conversion, saw that lady shaking the door-mat on 
 the front-door steps, in front of the porch. Gregory himself 
 was standing near the door watching that operation. From 
 all appearances, the mat had not enjoyed as thorough a shak- 
 ing for some time. 
 
 " Your wife 's about again, I see," said the Captain, in an 
 under tone, to Donoe. 
 
 Gregory Donoe grinned at the Captain, as much as to say, 
 " You 're a cute fellow." 
 
 " Good morning, Mrs. Donoe," said the Captain, in a louder 
 tone of voice. 
 
 " Good morning," said Mrs. Donoe, curtly, without looking 
 up however, and without intermitting her occupation. 
 
 She was the least bit in the world suspicious of the Captain. 
 
 " It 's a fine morning," renewed the Captain, pleasantly. 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Milder than last Tuesday night," persisted the Captain, in 
 a still more winning tone. 
 
 Mrs. Donoe looked sharply at the Captain, and murmured 
 something to the effect that she "didn't know any thing 
 about last Tuesday night." 
 
 " Gregory turned suddenly around, away from the house ; 
 presenting to a philosophic cow, who happened to be passing, 
 a visage surprisingly rosy and contorted with repressed 
 emotion. 
 
 " I thought I would just mention," said the Captain, assum- 
 ing his most gentlemanly manner, "that if any body ever 
 comes t<> me a'xain with any gossip about my aft'airs, that you
 
 - 
 
 94 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 had a hand in, I shall feel obliged to tell them all about your 
 trip with that angel." 
 
 " Oh, you ! " commenced Mrs. Donoe, clinching her fair 
 hand. 
 
 " And about the chariot of fire," added the Captain. And 
 he bowed a gentlemanly bow, and passed on. 
 
 There was no further gossip in Cone Cut about the affairs 
 of Captain Mayferrie. 

 
 VIII. 
 
 FROM THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS, DOWNWARD. 
 
 IN the present embryotic state 
 of American aristocracy, the 
 name of Chesslebury can not be 
 expected to receive that admira- 
 tion which it surely will com- 
 mand when, by the inevitable 
 
 lapse of time, it shall have become truly ancient and ennobled. 
 It . is now middle-aged and respectable. It aspires to become 
 antique and venerable. We all know that families, like cheese for 
 instance, are more highly esteemed after they have become old 
 and rich, and fragrant of a certain highly artificial savor. It is 
 for this odor that some of the ambitious members of the family, 
 with whom we have presently much to do, most ardently aspire. 
 The name of Chesslebury, however, is not even now to be 
 sneered at. It has been in newspaper paragraphs for many 
 years. It has furnished several subjects for modern biogra- 
 phies, "printed for private circulation not published," and 
 mostly written by modest descendants, who are supposed to
 
 96 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 have caught whatever mantle of earthly virtue the late 
 lamented may have left belfind him. This same name too, 
 appears once in a foot-note in a memorable page of Bancroft, 
 which makes that historian a favorite with the readers of the 
 family. There are towns named for it too. It has been 
 called by the tellers in Legislatures with various prefixes, 
 from Peter to Lafayette, time out of mind that is to say, for 
 almost three quarters of a century and it may be further said, 
 if that adds any thing to the weight of such considerations, that 
 it has graced three defeated tickets in congressional elections. 
 
 It is, therefore, a very respectable name. 
 
 There hangs at this moment in the library of Lafayette 
 Chesslebury, Esquire, an elaborate painting of the coat of arms 
 of his family. The resurrection of this decoration has been 
 a recent work; and it now begins to be announced upon 
 proper occasions, which occur with sufficient frequency, that 
 the American branch sprang from "two brothers who came 
 over in 1*7 , and settled in Connecticut," where their name 
 has been industriously propagated ever since. 
 
 Of this branch of the family tree, the bough with wlu'ch we 
 have more particularly to do, comprises five twigs : Hon. 
 Lafayette Chesslebury, Mrs. Virginia Chesslebury, the two 
 Misses Chesslebury, and the young Master Chesslebury. 
 These have some time since forsaken the country condition 
 and circumstance" of the Connecticut Chessleburys, and have 
 sought modern and urban prosperity in the city of New York. 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury's original profession was Law. It was 
 now, Money. He started in life- by practice in .the rural 
 districts. In this he was quite successful. He knew enough 
 law to talk to his clients, and gain about half his cases, which
 
 CONK CUT CORNERS. 97 
 
 is said by those who ought to know, to be no mean profi- 
 ciency in his profession. Becoming thus an important man 
 in the county, he gradually assumed political engagements, 
 which carried him more and more into public life. When he 
 had achieved his election into the State Legislature he came to 
 the conclusion that all things considered, it would be a very 
 good time for him to marry. Here arose a perplexity. Mr. 
 Chesslebury did not know upon whom to confer his name, 
 and this question was made still more serious and embar- 
 rassing by the thought that he had just added " Honorable," 
 to that name. He scanned the horizon of his acquaintances 
 without finding any star of sufficient magnitude to throw 
 much light upon his path and prospects. For Mr. Chessle- 
 bury had set his heart on Congress, and in default of 
 Congress, an office. " Now," reasoned he, " I have a pretty 
 good chance to run in as representative next year ; as good a 
 chance as I can make it ; and if that falls through, I must 
 have the train laid for being appointed District Attorney. I 
 must therefore plan with reference to that. I must many 
 into some first-rate family ; some family with large political 
 influence ; that 's what I need. The best thing I can do is 
 to go to Washington a little while this winter, and perhaps 
 things will lead to something." In pursuance of this reso- 
 lution, the Honorable Lafayette Chesslebury finally wooed, 
 won, and married one of the first families in Virginia in 
 fact, without doubt, the very first in the person of Miss 
 Virginia Plumme. 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury was a smart man, not a great man. The 
 life of a smart man is the asymptote to the hyperbola of 
 trivatness. It continually approaches, but can never meet it.
 
 08 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 The political interest , and influence of Miss Virginia 
 Pluinnie very curiously losing its strength as soon as she was 
 married and settled, Mr. Chesslebury was obliged to console 
 himself with the seven thousand and odd per annum, which 
 bonus he had received when he took his better two-fifths off 
 the hands of the first family. Moreover, as next fall, a poor 
 democrat, who had often mado horse-shoes for him in the coun- 
 try, ran over him in the congressional election, Mr. Chessle- 
 bury, with characteristic readiness, found opening before him r 
 other, far higher aims, and infinitely broader prospects than an 
 attorneyship, or a seat in the somewhat plebeian hall of repre- 
 sentatives. Soon his ambition converged to that of his wife, and 
 he removed to New York ; " which is, after all," said he, " the 
 center and head-quarters of all those interests and influences 
 and powers which are the real sources of any great success 
 in life, and of those things which do finally lead to something." 
 
 In the lower part of Broadway he opened an office, and de- 
 voted himself to such practice as came to him which was 
 little ; to managing his property which was considerable ; to 
 speculating largely and shrewdly in things which were going 
 to lead to something ; and to achieving for the Chesslebury 
 name that eminence and precedence in the fashionable world 
 to which it was undeniably entitled. 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury is therefore of the best society. Few 
 stand better in the best society than she. She is a leader in 
 the world of fashion. Few have higher qualifications for that 
 very lofty and commanding position. 
 
 The world of fashion in which she shines is not a large 
 world, but it is a very choice world. Its orbit is smaller than 
 tin? orbits of some others ; the path prescribed for it in the
 
 CONE CUT c o n :; K K .s . I; v 
 
 social system is narrow, but it is exclusive. It is an indus- 
 trious world; it works late at night, and far into the next 
 morning, and only retires to rest, putting out its many lights, 
 when the morning sun begins to extinguish, one by one, the stars. 
 Like the moon, the world of fashion shines by night ; and shows 
 but a feeble, faded face by day. It is an ambitious world ; 
 ambitious to wear the newest dress, to produce the most re- 
 cent fashion to make the most striking show. It is a world 
 which spends much, dresses much, talks much, -does little. It 
 is a world of smiling faces, and of envious hearts of bright eyes 
 and dull intellects of brilliant nights, and of cold gray morn- 
 ings. It is a world of great cry ; but not of a great deal of fine 
 wool ; a world of much glitter ; but of very little pure gold. 
 
 Prominent as a leader in this world is Mrs. Lafayette Ches- 
 slebury, well fitted by nature and education for her position ; 
 well endowed with all those charming qualities of mind and 
 person which make the world of fashion so elevated and so 
 elevating. The great object of her life is to outshine Mrs. 
 Stuccuppe ; as the great object of Mrs. Stuccuppe's life is to 
 outshine Mrs. Chesslebury. The world of fashion is pretty 
 equally divided between the two. One half takes its tone 
 from Mrs. Stuccuppe, the other half from Mrs. Chesslebury. 
 
 Mrs. Stuccuppe drinks the waters at Saratoga. Mrs. Ches- 
 slebury bathes and yachts at Newport. Mrs. Stuccuppe at- 
 tracts admiring glances in morning service, by a new Parisian 
 bonnet. Mrs. Chesslebury extinguishes her, next Sunday, 
 with a camel's hair shawl. Mrs. Stuccuppe annihilates Mrs. 
 Chesslebury with " the largest party of the season," in which, 
 she introduces the new feature of tableaux. Mrs. Chesslebury 
 the next week attains a glorious resurrection, in a triumphant
 
 100 CONE -CUT CORNERS. 
 
 fancy dress ball. Meanwhile, they arc to each other warm 
 friends ; and no acquaintances in an evening party shake 
 hands more cordially than these two mortal enemies. 
 
 In all such fashionable warfare, Mrs. Chesslebury is unsur- 
 passed. A host within herself, wherever she goes, she carries 
 strength and courage to her friends, and spreads rout and dis- 
 may among her enemies. Young ladies growing up in the 
 world of fashion, model themselves after her. Old we beg 
 their pardon mature ladies, hesitate not to imitate her 
 closely. Young men, connoisseurs, pronounce her a splendid 
 woman, and her husband a lucky fellow ; and the pair never 
 enter a ball-room together without producing a sensation. 
 
 She is bold in open contest, skillful in tactics, placid in 
 triumph, and graceful in defeat. She has a mind for maneu- 
 vering, an ear for scandal, an eye for the faults and frailties of 
 her friends, and a hand for her husband's purse. 
 
 The elder Miss Chesslebury, just seventeen by the family 
 genealogy, has lately finished her education, and has butter- 
 flied, or as that process is termed among the insects of fash- 
 ionable life, has " come out," this winter. The younger Miss 
 Chesslebury is still in chrysalis at a boarding-school. Both 
 of them sing a little, play a little, dance a little, and misun- 
 derstand French a good deal. There is also in the family, 
 young Master Chesslebury, already mentioned in these pages. 
 But young masters are of no account in the fashionable world. 
 Of him, more hereafter. 
 
 This comprises the whole of the list; and gives you. sir, 
 what many a young gentleman would give his head, aye ! and 
 a good deal more than that is worth, to obtain ; namely, a per- 
 sonal introduction to the Chessleburv family.
 
 IX. 
 
 AUGUST, 1S4TT 
 
 THE Chesslebury mansion, 
 a building brick in substance, 
 
 but veneered with free-stone, stands four stories high in the 
 vicinity of Washington Parade Ground ; and the younger 
 Miss Chesslebury, sitting listlessly by the -window, overlooks 
 the park, and sees through the green foliage a number of vul- 
 gar people sitting upon the benches. 
 
 From stopping to rest upon a bench a moment, and munch 
 a penny apple, purchased on the spot, a boy wends his way to 
 the Chesslebury mansion, heavily laden with vulgar bundles. 
 
 No ! we beg your pardon, madam ! There is nothing vulgar 
 in those bundles. This, for instance, is a French silk ; that 
 an expensive shawl ; this a pair of Cinderella-sized slippers. 
 This littlest parcel is a pair of kid gloves, which it is the gen- 
 teolost thing to wear upon the hands ; but a veiy vulgar
 
 102 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 thing to carry in the hand, thus tied up in brown paper. On 
 so slight a matter, madam, depend so important results. 
 
 The boy goes straight to the Chesslebury mansion, know- 
 ing it of old. He climbs its broad steps, rings the door-bell, 
 and sits down upon a step, to wait for an answer ; whistling, 
 meanwhile, a popular melody with brilliant variations, and 
 keeping time with his head. The performance is interrupted 
 in the middle of the second repetition, by, 
 
 " Well ! there, boy !" What do you want ?" 
 
 The speaker is a very sprucely-dressed gentleman, whose 
 boots are of the brightest polish, whose coat is of the glossiest 
 black, whose marseilles vest is of the most unspotted purity, 
 whose clerical neckcloth is of the most dazzling whiteness, 
 whose whole mien and manner is that of one fresh starched 
 every morning, like his own linen. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Chesslebury in ?" inquired the lad. 
 
 " Yes," replied the gentlemanly-dressed young man, coolly 
 surveying the boy, whom he at onee noted as belonging to 
 the lower order of creation. " Yes, Mrs. Chesslebury is in." 
 
 This he said with the door opened but a little way, and 
 the space fully occupied by his own prepossessing person. 
 
 " Bundles for her," said the boy. 
 
 " You can leave the things. I will see to them." 
 
 " I am to see her, if you please." 
 
 "Well, really," said the gentlemanly-dressed young man, 
 in soliloquy, quite deprived for the moment of his usual pres- 
 ence of mind. Then recovering himself, in a tone of some im- 
 patience he added, 
 
 " Well, why don't you come in, then ?" 
 
 Saying this, he threw the door open, standing carefully on
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 103 
 
 one side, lest he should be contaminated by the vulgar pres- 
 ence. The boy, modestly entering his bundles, was proceed- 
 ing to follow them himself, when he was again interrupted. 
 
 " Hold on there," said the gentlemanly dressed young man, 
 " what do you suppose scrapers were made for ?" 
 
 The boy made no further answer to this interrogatory than 
 to scrape his feet very hard against the scraper, which stood 
 outside the door, and to burnish them very bright upon the 
 mat which lay within. The gentlemanly-dressed young man 
 then shut the door, and departed up the richly-carpeted stairs, 
 treading apologetically upon the pictured flowers, which 
 climbed naturally enough up the spiral staircase. 
 
 " Which Miss Chesslebury did you wish to see T inquired 
 he, stopping half way up, and turning partly around to ad- 
 ' dress the boy, who was leaning wearily against the wall. 
 
 " It's Mrs. Chesslebury, if you please," returned the boy. 
 
 "Mrs. Chesslebury. Eh 1 ?" said the gentlemanly-dressed 
 young man. " That 's quite another matter. Why could n't 
 you say it right at first. No. She 's out. Or stop. It 's 
 just possible she may be in. I '11 ask." 
 
 So saying, he went on up stairs to inquire of Mrs. Chessle- 
 bury whether she were in ; that worthy lady having just in- 
 formed him over the bannisters that she was out unless the 
 boy from Haggle & Change's came. 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury and the elder Miss Chesslebury were ex- 
 amining dress patterns. The younger Miss Chesslebury was 
 working a beautiful design in Avorsted a green butterfly in a 
 blue oyster-shell, reposing amid a bed of many-colored roses. 
 Young Jason Chesslebury, pressed into that service much 
 against his will, was reading aloud.
 
 104 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Well, "Wilson," said Mrs. Cliesslebury, as the gentlemanly 
 dressed young man entered the room. 
 
 " It 's the boy from Haggle & Change's." 
 
 "Good!" cried Jason; "Cousin Paul!" So saying, he 
 threw down the book, and darted out of the room, very glad 
 of the interruption. 
 
 " Jason ! Jason !" called his mother, reprovingly. 
 
 But Jason had already disappeared down the stairs, or to 
 speak more accurately, down the bannisters, upon which he 
 had slid, descending like a young avalanche. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! What a boy !" sighed the younger Miss Ches- 
 slebury. 
 
 " Oh ! how ridiculous !" exclaimed her sister ; " running 
 after a shop-boy in that manner." 
 
 " Let the boy leave the things," said Mrs. Chesslebury. 
 
 "I told him that, ma'am," replied Wilson, "and he said he 
 wanted to see you." 
 
 " Let him wait, then," said Mrs. Chesslebury. 
 
 "Very well, ma'am." 
 
 "Hulloa, Cousin Paul," cried Jason, sliding dexterously off 
 the bannister, and cordially shaking hands with him. " How 
 are you ?" 
 
 "Tired," said the boy. 
 
 Paul Bundle, though Jason's second-cousin, was entirely 
 unknown, to the Chesslebury genealogy. His mother, origin- 
 ally a Chesslebury, had voluntarily excommunicated herself, 
 when she promised to love, honor, and obey a Rundle a mere 
 shopman a fellow of no pretensions to gentility whatsoever. 
 She never had stood high in that family before. She was 
 now utterly disowned. Her name was struck off the family
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 105 
 
 visiting-list, and she no longer moved in any society at all. 
 A few Mr. Chesslebury among the number kept up, for a 
 while, a limited acquaintance with the Bundles, in the hope 
 that it might lead to something. But when Mr. Rundlo 
 invested, through Mr. Chesslebury's advice, in an unlucky 
 speculation, by taking stock in one of Mr. Chesslebury's com- 
 panies, the result of which operation was the transfer of all his 
 property to Mr. Chesslebury's pocket, the business world, as 
 well as the fashionable world, deserted him, and the Rundles 
 were known no more forever. Thus it was that Paul, though 
 Jason's second-cousin, was unknown to the Chesslebury 
 
 "Come in, and sit down," said Jason. 
 
 * The boys entered the parlor and sat down. The room was 
 one which seldom saw the daylight. The shutters were closed 
 now, and the dark curtains were not gathered up in graceful 
 folds, but hung heavily to the floor. Paul noticed, however, 
 that the sofa on which they sat, as well as the rest of the fur- 
 niture, was covered with a brown linen dress, like that which 
 elephants are accustomed to wear when entering a country 
 village in company with a menagerie. 
 
 " How are they all at home ?" asked Jason. 
 
 "First-rate." 
 
 "And how 's your father ?" inquired Jason, hesitatingly. 
 
 Paul shook his head sorrowfully, but said nothing. Jason 
 understood the answer. 
 
 " I say," said he, after a pause, " why didn't you come up 
 yesterday? Ma's dreadfully cross that the things didn't 
 come before." , 
 
 " I can't help it," answered Paul, despairingly, " if she is. 
 5*
 
 106 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 I can't , manufacture the silk, or steal the gloves. I have to 
 take them when they 're given to me. I came straight here 
 as soon as I could get them." 
 
 " Well, I know it," replied Jason. " I don't blame " 
 " Now, look here ; this is how it is," continued Paul, inter- 
 rupting him, " I come away from the store with a dozen bun- 
 dles. I come here first. And your mother keeps me waiting 
 half an hour before she '11 see me, and then I have to catch 
 it because the things were n't brought before. Then I go to 
 Mrs. Stuccuppe's, and there I have to wait for half an hour, 
 and then catch it because a ribbon does n't match ; as 
 though I had any tiling to do with that ; and then I go to 
 Mrs. Minnyflinn's, and there I have to catch it because the 
 last silk she bought was n't a good one ; and so on ; every^ 
 where they keep me half an age, and blow me up for 
 other people's faults ; and then, when I get back to the store 
 again, I have to catch it finally for being gone so long, and 
 
 " Well, I declare," commenced Jason, " it is too bad." 
 
 " And if," continued the boy, interrupting him again, " I 
 am tired, or in a hurry, or both, and try to hook a ride a 
 little way, why I am a dishonest scapegrace ; and if I get cut 
 behind, I get laughed at." 
 
 " Why ! don't you ride ?" asked Jason. " I mean if 
 you 're going far." 
 
 " Hide ! bless you ! no ! I wish I did. Now, to-day, I 
 have n't had any dinner, not to speak of. I shan't have any 
 tea, nor yet supper ; and if I get to bed before to-morrow 
 morning, I shall be lucky. Then if I ain't at the store early 
 to-morrow, and get the windows washed and the store swept
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 107 
 
 out before seven o'clock, I am a slow stupid, or a lazy rascal. 
 Oh ! ho ! If it was n't for Susie and mother I don't know 
 what I should do." 
 
 "And do you have to run of errands all the day ?" asked Jason. 
 
 "All day, and half the night, too. It 's nothing but bun- 
 dles, bundles, bundles,- from morning to night. Why, a 
 lady a real fine lady can't buy a yard of ribbon, or a pair 
 of gloves, but they must be sent home. My feet ache so, 
 sometimes, when I get home, with being on them all the 
 time ! Heigho ! I wish your mother would come down." 
 
 " I '11 go and see if I can't get her to," said Jason. 
 
 He was as good as his word, and presently returned with 
 Mrs. Chesslebury, whom he had persuaded, though not with- 
 out much difficulty, to come down. 
 
 " Well, Bundle," said the lady, graciously, to him. 
 
 " Here are all the things, ma'am," replied he, now out in 
 the entry, and placing the Chesslebury bundles on one of the 
 entry chairs. " And if you please, ma'am," he added, hesita- 
 tingly, " Mr. Change wants to know would you find it con- 
 venient to settle that bill." He handed it to her as he spoke. 
 
 " Bless me !" said she, " isn't that thing settled yet ? You 
 brought this to me a month ago." 
 
 " I know it," said Paul. 
 
 "And I told you then," said the lady, "not to bring these bills 
 to me. You must carry them to Mr. Chesslebury, to the office. 
 
 " And so I did," said Paul, " and Mr. Chesslebury said that 
 he did not know any thing about it. He could n't settle it. 
 I must bring it to you. He said I must n't bring these bills 
 to him, never. I must carry them to the house." 
 
 "Oh ! it's a mistake," said Mrs. Chesslebury; "/haven't
 
 108 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 got the money. I never keep the money here. You must 
 carry the bill to him, and just say that I said it was all right. 
 He will settle it. It 's of no use bringing these bills to me 
 no use." 
 
 Of this Paul \vas very well satisfied, as he took the bill 
 back again from Mrs. Chesslebury. Four times did Paul thus 
 play shuttlecock between the house and the office, before he 
 succeeded in getting even any promise of payment ; and that 
 was only by finding, luckily, Mr. and Mrs. Chesslebury at home 
 together, one evening, where neither could well refer him to 
 the other. 
 
 " And what," said Mrs. Chesslebury, taking up a bundle 
 directed to Mrs. Stuccuppe, " and what is in this ? Do you 
 know, Bundle ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am," said Paul. 
 
 " It feels like velvet. Look here, Helen. I wonder what 
 this is. Something new for Araminta, I expect." 
 
 " Poor thing ! I hope so," said the elder Miss Chesslebury, 
 in a tone of great commiseration. " She has worn that pink 
 brocade of hers three times. I declare it is quite dreadful to 
 think of it." 
 
 " It certainly is velvet," said Mrs. Chesslebury, opening a 
 little crack in the corner, for the purpose of taking a better 
 observation. 
 
 " Let me see," said Helen. 
 
 She took the bundle, and slipped the string partly off. 
 
 " Oh ! please not," said the boy, starting forward, and then 
 stopping, frightened at his own boldness. 
 
 " Oh ! dear me," said Miss Helen , " you need not be fright- 
 ened. I shall not hurt it."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 109 
 
 " I don't see what business you have to open it," remon- 
 strated Jason. "You wouldn't like it if Araminta should 
 open your bundles." 
 
 " 'T would be just like her, the meddlesome minx !" return- 
 ed Miss Helen, opening the bundle at the end, and examining 
 its contents. 
 
 "What a lovely color!" said Mrs. Chesslebury, looking 
 over her daughter's shoulder. 
 
 "It is a cheap thing," said Miss Helen, contemptuously, 
 testing its quality between her thumb and finger. 
 
 Probably no epithet in Miss Chesslebury's vocabulary con- 
 tained so much of contempt as the word cheap. At all 
 events, it completed the examination of the dress pattern, and 
 she tossed the parcel back, leaving Bundle to tie it up as well 
 as he might. She then followed Mrs. Chesslebury up stairs ; 
 while Jason covertly went out with Paul, to accompany him 
 up to Mrs. Stuccuppe's, and help him carry his bundles. 
 
 "My dear," said Mrs. Chesslebury to her husband that 
 night, " don't go right to sleep. I want to talk to you about 
 Jason." 
 
 " Well !" said Mr. Chesslebury. 
 
 " He ought to go away some where to school," continued 
 she. " He is getting into very low habits here. To-day he 
 went up to Mrs. Stuccuppe's with a what 's his name 
 Bundle. And he actually carried some of his bundles for 
 him." 
 
 " Yes !" responded the gentleman. " I Ve been thinking of 
 that for some time past. It is very important that he should 
 be placed at some good institution immediately. He is just
 
 110 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 at that age when it is of the highest consequence that his 
 mind should be properly trained, and its growth rightly di- 
 rected. And we ought to be peculiarly careful, my dear, in 
 respect to the character of the circle of his acquaintance. He 
 should be placed in some quiet, yet exclusive circle, where his 
 tastes and manners may be formed in a mold more congenial 
 to, and and and better fitted for, the position in society 
 which his family, and, I think I may safely say so his abili ties, 
 are eminently calculated to bestow upon him." 
 
 " There 's Doctor Crammer's Collegiate Institute," suggested 
 his wife. 
 
 " And yet," said he, doubtfully, " there are objectionable 
 features even in that excellent institution. It is too much, 
 perhaps, of a miscellaneous character ; which is, indeed, a 
 characteristic, I regret to say, of all our American institutions 
 of learning. There are, I am afraid, many lads, sons of shop- 
 keepers, and even mechanics and farmers, at Doctor Crammers, 
 with whom we should naturally not wish our son to associ- 
 ate in future life, or even now. 'T was only last night, I think, 
 that Jason told me young Haggle was going to school there, 
 this fall." 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury shuddered. 
 
 " Cone Cut has occurred to me, -as a place better fitted, in 
 some resp " 
 
 " Why, bless me ! Mr. Chesslebury," interrupted his wife. 
 " There is no school there. Nothing but a village academy." 
 
 " True, my dear," returned he, " but I should not propose 
 to send him directly to the academy. Let him go into some 
 quiet family ; the minister's for example. What is his name .' 
 Some sort of vegetable, I think. Corn 1 no it can not be corn.''
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. Ill 
 
 " Grain," suggested Mrs. Chesslebury. 
 
 " Thank you. That is the word, Grayne. He has no chil- 
 dren, I think. Strange I should have forgotten his name ; 
 we used to be at school together, once. Jason would have no 
 common acquaintances and friendships to form therefore. 
 And, indeed, it would be more like employing a private tutor 
 for him than sending him to a public school. It would 
 be, it is true, rather more expensive than the ordinary course 
 of education, but augh " he ends the sentence with a 
 yawn. 
 
 The expense Mr. Chesslebury stated in form, as an objec- 
 jection ; but in effect, as a recommendation. 
 
 "Will it?" said Mrs. Chesslebury. "Well! perhaps then, 
 that is the best place." 
 
 "I augh dear me " another tremendous yawn "think 
 that will be found to be the most desirable course to be pur- 
 sued." As he said this, considering the discussion virtually 
 finished, he turned over and composed himself to sleep ; he 
 then continued, " In such a position he will he will be free 
 from all all restraints and and ; what was I saying ? I 
 mean from all from all associates and 
 
 There is a brief pause. 
 
 " When is he to go, Mr. Chesslebury ?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Mr. Chesslebury ! Mr. Chesslebury ! I say, Mr. Chessle- 
 bury !" 
 
 " Eh ! What 1" said he, suddenly. 
 
 " When is he to go ?" 
 
 " Yes ! I think so too. He had better go by by all " 
 
 "Yes! but when? Mr. Chesslebury! I say Mr. Chessle-
 
 112 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 bury ! Oh ! dear me ; just like him. Always will go to 
 sleep when I want to talk ; and always will talk when I want 
 to go to sleep." 
 
 And this was the way it was decided that Jason should go 
 to Cone Cut to school.
 
 X. 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 1347. 
 
 
 " IF all the men, women, and chil- 
 dren in the world were one great man, 
 and all the axes, hatchets, and knives 
 were one great ax, and all the trees 
 
 and bushes were one great tree, and all the oceans, seas, 
 lakes, rivers, ponds, brooks, and fountains in the world, were 
 one great ocean ; and if the great man, taking the great ax, 
 should cut down the great tree, so that it fell into the great
 
 114 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 ocean, -what a tremendous splash it would make," theorizes 
 an ancient proverb with which the authors of this veracious 
 history recollect to have been greatly entertained in their 
 infancy. 
 
 Very much such a splash as this did the news that Jason 
 Chesslebury was coming to pursue his education at the Cone 
 Cut Academy create, when it was first precipitated into the 
 placid mind of Miss Provy Pease ; from which central point, 
 circling ripples of intelligence flowed out over all the surface 
 of society at Cone Cut Corners. 
 
 For the academy of that town did not boast a foreign repu- 
 tation. It was not a college, as, in certain portions of our re- 
 public, most academies are growing up to be. Nor was 
 its principal a " Professor." Nor had that functionary re- 
 ceived that degree of "Doctor of" something or other, to 
 which every man who attains a position of mediocrity in litera- 
 ry pursuits, and keeps it, is now understood to be entitled. 
 
 Nor was the Institution heralded, from term to term, in the 
 city prints, in advertisements, setting forth in effect, that Cone 
 Cut Academy was so near the city that parents could, without 
 the slightest inconvenience, enter their children as students, 
 and visit them upon the shortest notice, while it was yet so 
 remote that no adventurous boy could return unexpectedly ; 
 that its situation was at once so retired as to entice the minds 
 of youth to engrossing study, and yet so rurally agreeable 
 as to tempt to constant and healthful pastime in the open 
 air; that as a special favor to particular friends in urgent 
 cases, any body's children would be received into the family 
 of the principal, where, for a consideration merely nominal, 
 absolutely a bagatelle, they would enjoy not only every phys-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 115 
 
 ical luxury, no matter how costly, but also that strict and ele- 
 vated moral training which is more closely associated, in the 
 mind of the boyish philosopher, with lasting and flagellation, 
 than with good living. 
 
 It may have been that such eminent advantages as these, 
 which now-a-days seem to be the uniform perquisites of rural 
 schools, were not at the command of the founders of the Cone 
 Cut Academy. At all events those unsophisticated men had 
 been content to intrust the management of their school to a 
 young man who had grown up in their own town, and had 
 won his way to a good education by hard labor. He had de- 
 voted himself steadily to the task of educating the youth of 
 Cone Cut and its vicinity, without laboring for a more extend- 
 ed feme. 
 
 Thus it was that Jason Chesslebury was the first who had 
 ever joined the school from quarters beyond the immediate 
 neighborhood. 
 
 Nor is it likely that Mr. Chesslebury would have had his 
 attention favorably drawn to this seat of learning, as an eligi- 
 ble place for his son to pursue his education, had it not been 
 for a slight circumstance connected with the early financial 
 management of the academy. A number of years before, 
 when the old church was first surrendered to the uses of the 
 school, the trustees had applied to Mr. Chesslebury, their 
 wealthy ex-townsman, then on a summer's visit among them, 
 for a pecuniary loan to aid them in making the desired altera- 
 tions in the building. With this request Mr. Chesslebury had 
 complied, to a limited extent, taking the note of the trustees 
 for the amount of his advance. This note the trustees had 
 *" never found it convenient to pay. Such a circumstance as
 
 116 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 this, was exactly calculated to interest Mr. Chesslebuiy in the 
 academy ; to give him, as it were, a paternal feeling toward 
 it. Therefore, he had often written for information upon the 
 affairs of the school, asking " how they were getting on,"-^ 
 " what their prospects were," " how they were off for cash," 
 and making other like inquiries indicating his friendly interest 
 in the welfare of his pet academy. And this autumn, finding 
 money rather tight, and looking about him, as rich men do 
 when times are hard, to discover what retrenchments he could 
 make without making any sacrifices, he bethought himself 
 that he had better send Jason to Cone Cut and endorse his 
 bills upon the note, than keep him at school in New York 
 and pay them in cash. 
 
 "Besides," ruminated Mr. Chesslebury, putting the Cone 
 Cut note back into the little tin box which served as coffin 
 for sundry " dead papers" of like character ; " a run in the 
 country '11 do him good ; the country is the best place to be 
 brought up in, after all." 
 
 What weight Mr. Chesslebury attached to these respective 
 considerations, can not at this distance of time be ascertained. 
 It is certain, however, that the arguments which he suggested 
 to his wife in the domestic council, revealed in the last chap- 
 ter, were not those which operated most strongly upon his 
 own mind. Notwithstanding this, however, the plan was 
 duly carried into effect, the black trunk embroidered with 
 bright brass nails, presenting, in the midst of various geometri- 
 cal devices, the initials J. L. C., was seasonably packed, and, on 
 the appointed day, Jason departed from the Chesslebury 
 mansion. 
 
 Our young friend, having duly arrived at the residence of
 
 COXE CUT CORNERS. 117 
 
 Elder Graynes, made a very favorable impression upon the 
 scrutinizing and inquisitive eyes that were immediately turned 
 upon him. 
 
 First was the inspection of the Elder himself, made gravely 
 and silently through the medium of a pair of substantial silver 
 spectacles, produced for the purpose from a pocket. 
 
 " I am very glad to see you, my young friend," said the 
 Elder, in a hortatory tone of voice, and seating himself as he 
 spoke, in a rocking-chair. " I hope you and I shall get along 
 together as well as your father and I used v to, when we were 
 at school." 
 
 "Father told me," answered Jason, with a frank smile, 
 " about the good times you used to have together." 
 
 The good pastor smiled at the reminiscences of mischief 
 thus called up, and silently nodded, as if to confess that the 
 lad had the advantage in the first approaches of their ac- 
 quaintance. 
 
 The eyes that Jason next became conscious of, were those 
 of Airs. Graynes, an elderly lady, grave too, and kindly in her 
 manner, like her husband. Mrs. Graynes was seated in an- 
 other rocking-chair, upon the opposite side of the still sum-* 
 mer-screened fire-place, and by the side of her little work- 
 table, where she was employed in getting out work for the 
 sewing circle. The two rocking-chairs were alike, except 
 that the Elder's wore a coat of paint a black coat and 
 looked ministerial, while his wife's chair wore a chintz dress, 
 with the usual stuffing upon the seat, and looked matronly. 
 The occupants, too, resembled each other, except that the one 
 was osteifcibly masculine, and the other apparently feminine. 
 It seemed as if the quiet current of their lives had run so long
 
 118 
 
 in one channel that they formed indeed one and the same. 
 When the husband smiled and recognized Jason's quiet sug- 
 gestion in anticipation of questions of discipline, the wife 
 smiled and nodded too ; and when the Elder asked Jason 
 about the health of his father, the wife followed with inquiries 
 after the wejfare of his mother; and finally, when Mrs. 
 Graynes apologized for withdrawing to the kitchen on the 
 ground of household duties preliminary to supper, the Elder 
 excused himself for going out in the other direction to put 
 away the garden tools, which he said he had left behind the 
 house. 
 
 Jason, however, was not to be left in the sitting-room upon 
 ceremony. He followed the Elder into the garden, where 
 finding that the basket, which the latter had been filling with 
 potatoes from the hills, was but half full, he suggested the 
 propriety of completing the job; and briskly rolling up his 
 sleeves, grasped a vine with a sweep of his hands, and had 
 the roots shaken free of earth, and dangling over the basket, 
 before the Elder, had he been accustomed to that expression, 
 could have said Jack Kobinson ; much less, Jason Lafayette 
 Chesslebury. Looking up with a smile, Jason stood back to 
 let the Elder uncover the hill. 
 
 " Aha," said Elder Graynes, " I did n't think you city boys 
 knew as much as that." 
 
 By the time the hoe was planted to uncover the first hill, 
 Jason had the next one opened ; and before the Elder could 
 bend his stiffened back to pick up, Jason was stooping over 
 the hill, and the potatoes were rattling into the basket. 
 When Jason came trudging unceremoniously in at* the back 
 door of the kitchen, carrying the heaped basket, the surprised
 
 CONE OUT CORNERS. 119 
 
 Mrs. Graynes within said, " Thank you, Jason," in exactly the 
 same kind, pleasant tone in which her husband, who followed 
 with the hoe, had uttered it five minutes before, in the garden 
 without. 
 
 During the few moments they had been out of the house, 
 Jason had been the unconscious focus of many eyes. 
 
 Miss Lucretia Oleanda Blossom, who had been looking 
 from her parlor window opposite, ever since the stage 
 came in, said he was a fine-looking little fellow, until she 
 saw him picking up potatoes; and then she added? as if in 
 the same sentence, that his manner was quite rude and 
 boyish. 
 
 Mrs. Boggs, who was a judge of character, of juvenile 
 character in particular, and was then looking at the young 
 stranger from around the water-butt which stood Under her 
 own eaves, soliloquized a compliment and a resolution to af- 
 ford him an early opportunity to gather a basket of chips 
 for her own domestic hearth. 
 
 Mr. Trimmins, the tailor, who was accidentally passing the 
 Elder's gate at about the same time, leaned his short per- 
 son against the fence, tarrying to familiarize his eye with 
 what he assured himself must be the latest fashion of youth's 
 roundabouts in New York ; and next week reproduced his 
 idea of the same in the shape of a jacket with half sleeves, 
 and only quarter coat tails, for Master William Henry Blos- 
 som, younger brother to Miss Lucretia Oleanda. 
 
 Mrs. Soozle, who was of a different persuasion from the 
 Elder, and deplored his ministrations, remarked from behind 
 her thin hedge, across the lane, that the Elder was getting the 
 poor fellow at work in good season, and she though! it
 
 120 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 would pay well at that rate if her husband had a boarder 
 from the city. 
 
 And Miss Provy Pease herself, coming briskly in at the 
 garden gate, followed the Elder into the kitchen, and running 
 before him to greet the stranger, cried out ; 
 
 " So this is Master Jason Chesslebury : I am happy to see 
 you, Jason, how do you do ? You left them all well in New 
 York I hope ?" 
 
 To this unexpected greeting Jason responded with better 
 grace than Miss Provy Pease was accustomed to receive from 
 unknown young gentlemen of his age ; and she being quite 
 struck with admiration, addressed her remarks thereafter to 
 Mrs. Graynes, to help whom, she averred she had come in, as 
 she happened to be going by. 
 
 Miss Provy Pease prolonged her stay some tune ; but no 
 favorable opportunity arising for her to offer her services in 
 assisting in the unpacking of Jason's trunk, she- contented 
 herself with dispatching the preparations for supper. She 
 received an invitation from the Elder, and 'a similar one from 
 his wife, to stay to tea. This she declined to do, saying with 
 a laugh, that she could n't leave Calick to starve ; and there- 
 upon she threw on her white sun-bonnet and nodded herself 
 out again. 
 
 And thence on every hand the ripples spread. Flowing in 
 through a door here, and through an open window there ; 
 now eddying over a garden gate, now dashing up at a second 
 story. And so the ripples spread. 
 
 One of these ripples reached Mr. John Mayferrie in the 
 store of Gregory Doqpe. 
 
 Mr. Mavferrio was then verv comfortably seated in a rush- 

 
 CONK CUT COKNERS. 121 
 
 bottomed chair, tipped up against the door-post of the store. 
 It was hardly the gentlemanly position he was accustomed to 
 assume some years ago. But perhaps he had just finished a 
 hard day's work, and might be pardoned this indulgence. 
 There was an idle tip about the hat he wore, and when he 
 rose there was something in his gait, not by any means the 
 vigorous step and handsome bearing he used to have. But 
 then perhaps a farmer's life and hard toil had made him stand 
 less straight and tread less firmly. 
 
 When the ripple reached him he rose and remarked that it 
 was growing dark, and time for steady people like him to be 
 off. With this he started homeward. Tea was just finished 
 as he approached the parsonage. 
 
 " Ah," said the Elder, who was standing in the open door 
 with Jason, after tea, " there goes Captain Mayferrie." 
 
 But Captain Mayferrie did not seem to be decided to go 
 by, and as he lingered a moment near the gate, the Elder sal- 
 lied out to exchange a word. Jason followed. 
 
 " Captain Mayferrie, this is our young friend, Master Chessle- 
 bury." 
 
 " Good evening, Mister Chesslebury," said the Captain, 
 handsomely. 
 
 Jason stepping up, clandestinely put his foot on the lower 
 bar of the front fence, to raise himself to a level with his new 
 acquaintance, and his new title. 
 
 " You have come to spend some time among us, have you 
 not F 
 
 " Yes, sir, I hope so." 
 
 " I should be happy to have you come up and see me. My 
 place is on the hill right up the road. They all know where
 
 122 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 it is. I should be happy to see you. Come any time. We 
 are getting in apples now. We have about got through with 
 that, and are beginning to make cider. I always begin that 
 early, and mine is pretty good too, they tell me. Come up 
 to-morrow and you shall have some cider, and as many ap- 
 ples as you can bring home."
 
 XL 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 134T. 
 
 MR. BAXTER BLOSSOM, who may perhaps, be styled the 
 Captain of the Cone Cut Infantry, inasmuch as he taught the 
 young idea of that pleasant village how to shoot, pursued his 
 vocation in a curious old intellectual pistol-gallery, known in 
 Cone Cut chronicles as the Academy. It was a building 
 originally erected to serve as a church, when the village 
 numbered fewer church-goers than at this day. But as time 
 passed on, and the congregation grew too large for their 
 edifice, there were but two courses open to them ; to split up
 
 1-24 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 into half a dozen .denominations, build five additional 
 churches, settle five additional pastors, and set themselves 
 diligently at work to convert each other or, upon the other 
 hand, to build one larger church and worship therein in har- 
 mony. 
 
 . Unlike most towns in New England when in a simi- 
 lar emergency, they chose the latter course; and thus it 
 was, that upon the completion of their new building, the old 
 church became the new academy. It was very little changed 
 without; but somewhat more within, where the old pulpit 
 was razeed to make a platform for Mr. Baxter- Blossom's 
 seat, the former pews were re-modelled to the form of desks, 
 and the little singer's gallery was fitted up as a recitation- 
 room. To this Mr. Blossom daily conducted little troops 
 upon various intellectual target excursions. And in this 
 arrangement he enjoyed one eminent advantage that he 
 could stand sentinel over the whole force under his command 
 .below stairs, at the same time that he was able effectually 
 to superintend the practice of the particular detachment on 
 duty above. 
 
 It was into this academy that Master Jason Chesslebury 
 was brought by destiny and Elder Graynes, to commence his 
 intended course of study. And the term being now well 
 under way, and the school prosperous, the desks were nearly 
 full. All up and down on the right hand side of the aisle the 
 seats were filled with boys ; big boys, little boys, shame- 
 faced boys, bold boys, lazy boys, industrious boys, bright boys, 
 roguish boys. And on the other side were girls; young 
 girls, grown-up girls, handsome girls, plain girls, charming 
 girls, fine girls, pretty girls, queer girls. 

 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 125 
 
 At the further end of the room there had formerly been 
 upon each side of the church three side pews which faced the 
 pulpit, with doors opening out toward the body of the house. 
 These had been favorite seats with all the boys in the days of 
 the old church, as affording at once a view of the minister 
 and of the singers. But now their popularity had departed. 
 Those on one side had been removed to make room for an 
 extensive set of hat and cloak-stands. Those upon the other 
 had been replaced by a pair of school-desks, each long enough 
 to seat four scholars. The forward one of these was vacant. 
 That behind it wns occupied by a young girl alone. Bending 
 over her slate, with long curls shading a still childish, yet 
 almost womanly face, she was the only one who did not in- 
 dulge herself in a good look at the new comer. 
 
 Her curiosity respecting him, if any she felt, was somewhat 
 gratified, inasmuch as, since Mr. Blossom, after a short 
 examination of his new pupil, installed him in the unoccupied 
 desk just before her, she had an excellent view of so much of 
 the new scholar's person as could be seen from her position. 
 And before long, as the novelty of his new seat began to wear 
 off, and Jason began to grow tired of having nothing to do, 
 and but a dull place to do it in, he casually, as it were, and 
 with great and well-assumed appearance of accident, turned 
 himself about from time to time, to observe his new neigh- 
 bor ; finding upon nearly every such occasion that she was 
 herself equally busy in observing him. 
 
 Not to make advances toward a better acquaintance, under 
 such circumstances, was not to be Jason Chesslebury. And 
 having no better letter of introduction, that young gentleman 
 drew from his pocket a good-sized russet apple, one of Cap-
 
 1*. 
 
 COKE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 tain Mayferrie's best graftings, and having previously pre- 
 pared a slip of paper containing the phrase, borrowed from his 
 city reminiscences " introducing Mr. Jason L. Chesslebury" 
 fastened it to the brown-cheeked fruit by the simple process 
 of driving a pin through the paper and cheek, into the very 
 seeds of the apple. This done, and having watched Mr. Blos- 
 som into the very furthest corner of the room, he adroitly laid 
 his peace-offering upon the young lady's desk, in such man- 
 ner that, without opportunity for remonstrance on her part, it 
 rolled directly down into her very lap. 
 
 There was a look of surprise and interest upon her face as 
 she looked up from reading the inscription ; which was 
 quickly mirrored in Jason's countenance, when she covertly 
 opened her arithmetic, and turning it half round to meet his 
 eye, permitted him to read, inscribed upon the inside of the 
 cover, the classic lines : 
 
 " Steal not this book, for fear of shame, 
 For here you see the owner's name. 
 
 SALA>T>A PEASE CHESSLEBUBY." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Jason, in a whisper, Mr. Baxter Blos- 
 som being nearly forgotten in the discovery of a namesake ; 
 " You a Chesslebury ?" 
 
 But Jason was not forgotten by Mr. Baxter Blossom. That 
 careful preceptor had seen the apple roll ; and stealthily mak- 
 ing his way up to the delinquent's seat, Jason's question had 
 scarcely passed his lips when he felt himself sternly grasped 
 by the arm, and lifted bodily over his fair neighbor's desk, 
 and seated by her side. 
 
 " There ;" said the ironical Mr. Blossom, " now talk." 
 
 ^here was a titter among the girls, and a grin passed across
 
 COXE CUT CORNERS. 12 
 
 the faces of the boys, at this prompt vindication of outraged 
 law and order. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," responded Jason with cheerful submis- 
 sion ; " we will." 
 
 Another titter, and another grin. But Mr. Blossom al- 
 lowed no laughing in school hours, except at his own wit. 
 
 " Silence !" said he ; and he emphasized the command with 
 so forcible a blow upon his desk, that he was fain to examine 
 his knuckles as he went down the aisle, under the strong sus- 
 picion that he had broken the skin upon them. 
 
 " I say," said Jason in a whisper, as Mr. Blossom retired, 
 keeping an eye and a half upon Salanda, and half an eye on 
 Mr. Baxter Blossom. 
 
 But Salanda would not say. Bending over her slate, she 
 ciphered with a rapidity and energy very unusual among Mr. 
 Blossom's pupils. 
 
 " I say," continued Jason, laying his head down on the 
 desk, and looking right through the curls, " are you truly a 
 Chesslebury P 
 
 The slightest possible shake of the head, not so much a 
 negative, as an injunction to silence, was the only response 
 that he received. 
 
 " I say," continued Jason, venturing to pull the fold of the 
 calico dress that lay nearest to him, " he said, talk." 
 
 But talk his companion would not, and Jason, much against 
 his will, was compelled to leave his promise to his teacher 
 unperformed. 
 
 " I don't care," said he to himself, but in a whisper intended 
 for Salanda's ear. " I think it 's too bad. You ought to 
 mind the teacher. He told us to talk."
 
 128 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 
 
 When school was dismissed that afternoon, Jason did not 
 immediately return to Elder Graynes'. He turned first to 
 seek for his new acquaintance, but she had disappeared. 
 Partly in the hope to meet her, and partly in the desire to 
 explore the precincts of his new scene of duty, he lingered for 
 some time around the school-house. Having at last seen suf- 
 ficient of that, and nothing of her, he concluded to bid his 
 preceptor good afternoon. For this purpose he entered the 
 school-room. 
 
 Mr. Blossom was drilling, with a terrific voice of command, 
 a small company, who, having been unfortunate in their reg- 
 ular afternoon exercise, were detained on duty for further dis- 
 cipline. English grammar was the field whereon these dis- 
 ported themselves. 
 
 " MAN," said the terrific voice, reading from a text book of 
 moral sentiments, adapted to dissection and analytical examin- 
 ation ; " MAN is A SOCIAL BEING. NEXT, PARSE MAN." 
 
 Next attempted the task ; but finding himself at an early 
 stage of the usual formula unable to determine whether 
 " man" was in the first person and agreed with " is" in the 
 nominative case, or whether it was not a personal pronoun, 
 referring to " social being" ; there was a silence. 
 
 "Well, Chesslebury?" 
 
 " I came in, sir," replied that youth, " to ask if you would 
 like me to keep the last seat you gave me to-day 1" 
 
 " ITm !" said the voice, surprised into a moderate tone. 
 " I'll see about it ; ask me again to-morrow." 
 
 This was Mr. Blossom's invariable and invincible shield 
 against troublesome questions. It served the purpose now ; 
 for Jason, who wished to ask the question a good deal more
 
 COKE CUT CORNERS. 129 
 
 than he desired to gain an answer, turned away quite satis- 
 fied, and departed home. 
 
 And as he passed the door he heard the voice commence 
 again, terrific ; 
 
 " MAN is A SOCIAL BEING. NEXT, PARSE MAN." 
 
 Salanda, going home that afternoon, walked hurriedly and 
 out of breath, she hardly knew why ; partly with excitement, 
 and partly in apprehension that her new acquaintance might 
 be following in the same path. Strange timidity ! for as she 
 hastened, she looked back, fearing nevertheless that he might 
 be going in the other direction. 
 
 Walking with nervous haste, she soon came to Aunt 
 Provy's. Finding that lady at home, she immediately de- 
 tailed her strange introduction to the new comer. From 
 Aunt Provy she had a long extemporaneous biography of the 
 young gentleman, including a circumstantial account of his 
 arrival, of the objects of his sojourn, and the conjectured 
 length of his stay, together with a review of his birth and pa- 
 rentage, and a statement of pedigree ; the whole concluding 
 with a masterly discussion of the controlling motive of Mr, ^ 
 Chesslebury in wooing and espousing Mrs. Chesslebury, which 
 was conclusively shown to be compounded thus ; one third 
 an eligible match, one third high family connections, one 
 third an aristocratic alliance, and the rest love. 
 
 The russet apple stood for several days upon Salanda's little 
 study table, in the diminutive slanting-roofed chamber which 
 she called her room. It ultimately fell a prey to that des- 
 truction which awaited all of Captain Mayferrie's russets. 
 But the seeds Salanda carefully saved, and treasured for 
 6*
 
 130 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 many months in one corner of a little compartment of her 
 work-box. And the note of introduction finally found an 
 appropriate place, at the foundation of a packet of notes 
 longer and less formal.
 
 XII. 
 
 JANUARY, 1S4S. 
 
 THE lapse 
 of six months 
 enabled Jason 
 and Salanda 
 to become 
 very well ac- 
 quainted; and mid-winter found them most excellent friends. 
 
 That same mid-winter, at church one pleasant afternoon, 
 found Salanda, seated in Aunt Provy's pew at the side of the, 
 pulpit, attentive to the ministrations of Elder Graynes; and 
 found Jason, seated in the Elder's pew a front pew it was
 
 132 COXE CtTT CORNERS. 
 
 with his head somewhat shaded by his hand, attentive to the 
 movements of Salanda. 
 
 The last strain of Old Hundred had ceased. The final, 
 long-drawn squeak of the chorister's violin had expired, and 
 the congregation were standing in noisy expectation of the 
 benediction. Elder Graynes arose in the pulpit. 
 
 All the boys immediately began to feel for their hats. 
 
 " I omitted," said he, " to give notice that there will be a 
 temperance meeting on Tuesday evening next, at seven o'clock, 
 in the brick school-house in the Bunganock district. It is 
 hoped there will be a general attendance." 
 
 Then followed the benediction, during which, from the ap- 
 pearance of the younger portion of the congregation, a deaf 
 hearer might reasonably have supposed the minister to be 
 saying: "Now, wait a moment, boys; let all have a fair 
 chance make ready hats; -now start!" The congregation" 
 then began to disperse. The men of Cone Cut greeted each 
 other in the porches, the old ladies gathered in little knots to 
 gossip, and the younger ladies walked slowly, very slowly, 
 toward home, interspersed by entirely accidental young gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 A temperance meeting in a New England village, presents 
 two attractive features. Any one attends it who wishes to 
 practice oratory, and it thus offers to beginners in that art^ a 
 fine opportunity to display their forensic powers. Then again 
 it is usually appointed in the winter season, when there is 
 good sleighing, and, if possible, a fine moon ; circumstances 
 which add much to the size and pleasure of the meeting. 
 
 Jason's interest in these abstract considerations was greatly 
 heightened when he perceived Salanda a little before him in
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 133 
 
 the path, by the calculation that Salanda and himself upon 
 the front seat, and Miss Lucretia Oleanda Blossom and her 
 cousin Carrie Vining upon the back, with buffalo robes to 
 match, would exactly fill Captain Mayferrie's new sleigh, and 
 form an inspiriting load for Captain Mayferrie's best horse. 
 
 The identical horse and sleigh was now before him, and 
 Calick, in fur cap and big mittens, was holding the best horse, 
 while the Captain was handing into the new sleigh, ladies 
 young and old, invited promiscuously on the spot, from among 
 the dispersing congregation. When the Captain had filled 
 the sleigh, and had cast his eye over the crowd of bonnets to 
 calculate the best order in which to distribute his load, he 
 took his seat in front, and received at Calick's hands the 
 reins. Jason climbed upon the runner by the Captain's side, 
 and as they started he said, 
 
 " Mr. Mayferrie, are you going to the temperance meeting 2" 
 
 " I guess not, Jason." 
 
 "Well, were you intending to use your horse Tuesday 
 night ?" 
 
 "Oh, you'd like to go, eh? Well, you shall. I'll lend 
 you the horse, only don't take him into the meeting, because 
 I don't want him to get any bad ideas." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Jason. 
 
 "But, Jason," said the Captain, stopping him as he was 
 about to jump off, " don't take too many girls with you, for 
 you '11 be sure to upset them." 
 
 Jason, laughing, jumped off to speak to Salanda, whom they 
 had just passed. 
 
 " Oh ! Salanda," said he, speaking as if the opportunity 
 was quite accidental, " will you go to the temperance meeting
 
 134 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Tuesday night ? There will be a splendid moon, and it is 
 capital sleighing ; I have got Captain Mayferrie's horse and 
 
 " Yes, certainly," said Salanda, " if Aunt Provy will let me. 
 Who else is going ?" 
 
 Then Jason said he did not know, that was for her to say ; 
 and then Salanda was going to say and then Deacon Fick- 
 som appearing, Jason bid her a sudden good morning and fell 
 behind. 
 
 Early Tuesday evening, Jason drove the Captain's sleigh 
 down, and took in his load, though not without a great deal 
 of laughing and joking, particularly at the expense of the 
 young lady who in accordance with ingenious management on 
 his part, was to sit with him on the front seat. And after 
 wrapping his companions up well with buffalo robes, he 
 started off with his load of ardent spirits for the temperance 
 meeting. On they went ; the horse smoking, sleigh-bells jing- 
 ling, girls all laughing, every one talking, no one listening, 
 going to the temperance meeting. 
 
 At length they came to a little square wooden school-house, 
 painted after the fashion of country school-houses, red on the 
 outside, and not at all within. It presented the other familiar 
 features appropriate ; a large wood-pile by the door, and every 
 tree or bush which might add to the warmth or beauty of the 
 place, carefully cut down. But what does that matter ? When 
 all were gathered around the huge wood fire which crackled 
 and roared as if old Boreas himself had escaped from his dun- 
 geon, what mattered appearances without ? 
 
 The interior was quite a curiosity. Rows of long slanting- 
 topped desks ran across the room. Valuable desks these
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 135 
 
 were ; made of the genuine old Connecticut mahogany, in 
 form antique, and cut and carved in curious figures, with mys- 
 terious ciphers and initials. By the side of the door, as if to 
 guard it, was the master's desk. It stood upon a square plat- 
 form, with an elderly arm-chair behind it. On the desk lay 
 several well-worn books, the inkstand, a couple of pens, and 
 the noble ruler, so often wielded in scholastic strife. On the 
 right hand of the teacher's desk, and corresponding with the 
 door, stood the remains of the blackboard. 
 
 Salanda and her companions had scarcely warmed their 
 numb fingers at the glowing fire, when some volunteer stepped 
 upon the teacher's platform, and suggested that the meeting 
 should come to order. The meeting, taking this suggestion in 
 good part, came to order accordingly. The gentlemen took 
 their seats upon one side of the house, leaving the ladies to 
 take the other, as was required by the Cone Cut etiquette of 
 public meetings. Then upon a further suggestion of the vol- 
 unteer upon the platform, the meeting proceeded to elect a 
 moderator ; and after some delay, the moderator elect was 
 duly installed. He was a gentleman known to be somewhat 
 fond of making long and tedious speeches, and was, per- 
 haps, elected chiefly on this account; just as in the world 
 outside of Cone Cut we notice that many men in high 
 places are placed there because they are in the way any where 
 else. 
 
 There was a few moments' delay before speakers could be 
 induced to come forward. But at length, in response to a call 
 from the Chair, Colonel Willick, the same gentleman whose 
 vinegar was at an early stage of this history experimentally 
 compared by Deacon Ficksom with the article sold under that 

 
 136 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 name by Gregory Donoe, and who more lately attained a 
 military elevation, arose to address the audience. 
 
 Colonel "Willick standing up, spit and put his hands into his 
 pockets, looking very earnestly and intently at the floor, spit 
 and half seated himself against the corner of the desk behind 
 him, and then spoke as follows : 
 
 " Mr. Moderator," (spit, and a pause,) " I did n't expect 
 (spit) to be called upon to speak to-night ; I came to (spit) 
 listen, not to talk, (spit, and took one hand out of his pocket 
 and hung it by the thumb in the arm-hole of his waistcoat.) 
 There are others more able to please this (spit) audience, and 
 better orators (spit). I don't feel prepared to (spit) break the 
 ice ; but after it is broken, I will drop into the same hole. 
 (Spit, followed by great applause from all). I believe in (spit) 
 temperance ; but I don't pretend to be a talking man. My 
 heart is all right, (spit several times,) but I ain't no talking 
 man, so I '11 quit" (Spit, and sat down). 
 
 " Mr. Moderator ;" said Jason, a short time afterward, rising 
 in great haste, and hitting his knee under the desk. 
 
 " Mr. Chesslebury ;" said Mr. Moderator, bowing benignant- 
 ly to Jason. 
 
 Jason had been so much encouraged by the success which 
 attended Colonel Wiilick's effort that he immediately deter- 
 mined upon essaying a speech himself. He had, indeed, 
 already risen thrice with that view, but had been each time 
 forestalled in his purpose of obtaining the floor, by other 
 speakers ; which was the occasion of his present haste. He 
 now found himself somewhat disconcerted by the very readi- 
 ness with which the opportunity to speak was awarded him. 
 So he said again :
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 137 
 
 "Mr. Moderator." 
 
 Having thus made a fair beginning, he turned himself partly 
 around toward Salanda's seat, burst into a little laugh, and im- 
 mediately smothered his face into a preternatural solemnity. 
 
 " I hope, sir," he proceeded, when these preliminaries iad 
 been adjusted, "that you will excuse my occupying your 
 time this evening ; but I should like to contribute my mite 
 with the rest. I don't intend to say but little. I 'm not 
 any more of an orator than Colonel Willick, nor so much, 
 but I suppose, ladies and gentlemen, that we don't come 
 here to make orations, but only speeches. So I should like 
 to say that what seems to me is, that we ought to do 
 something about temperance, as well as talk about it. It 's 
 just as if a man should see his house on fire, and go on say- 
 ing what a dreadful thing it was to have one's house on fire, 
 and how he must begin to put it out, and should n't begin to 
 bring any water, or any thing. Speeches are very good 
 things, sir, particularly when they 're short. But what we 
 want is to do something about temperance. We might sit 
 here, and talk and tell each other stories, and so on, all night, 
 and have a good time ; but the question is, what good would 
 it do ?" 
 
 " Now what I move is, that we get up a society. Form a 
 temperance society, and have a meeting regularly once a week, 
 or a fortnight. I should attend regularly and I think most 
 of the students would ; and and " 
 
 What rock Jason's smoothly-gliding speech here struck upon 
 whether he found himself upon the very verge of express- 
 ing an intention to bring Salanda and Miss Blossom and 
 cousin with the same regularity, and could not connectedly 
 
 +'
 
 138 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 draw back, can not be ascertained. At all events he here 
 brought his address to an abrupt termination, -with a " that 's 
 all I have to say, sir," and took his seat ; somewhat uncertain 
 whether he had been silly, or had made the best speech of 
 the evening ; and he scarcely knew whether the applause 
 which followed his effort was intended in commendation of 
 the speech, or was called forth by the dilemma which 
 hastened its termination. 
 
 Deacon Ficksom rose. " He had been requested," " he said, 
 ' to take some part in the meeting, and he had come for that 
 purpose. He thought it was a good cause, if prudently fol- 
 lowed, and not overdone. He approved the zeal of his young 
 friend from the city, but thought nothing ought to be done in 
 haste. He supposed there were a good many people who 
 drank too much, and he wished they would reform. People 
 would be a great deal better oft' if they were only willing to 
 spend less money in drink. He was glad that people were 
 giving more attention to temperance. Some people thought 
 total abstinence was the only remedy for intemperance. There 
 was a good deal of difference between temperance and total 
 abstinence. There was no need of drinking so much. He 
 was not prepared to say that all drinking of fermented liquors 
 in every form ought to be given up. There was certainly a 
 difference between temperance and total abstinence. Temper- 
 ance was certainly a virtue, the Bible commanded it. But it 
 was hard to say that total abstinence was a duty. St. Paul 
 himself said, that we should ' take a little wine for our stomach's 
 sake, and our often infirmities.' " 
 
 Here the Deacon made a pause ; he was not quite certain 
 whether he had quoted the text aright. He had an idea, in
 
 - 
 
 CONE CtTT CORNERS. 139 
 
 which he seems to be supported by some modern commenta- 
 tors, that it should read, " take often wine for your stomach's 
 ache, and your little infirmities." But not feeling quite clear 
 upon this point, he proceeded. 
 
 " He thought that the only means was moral suasion ; every 
 man should endeavor to persuade his neighbor to be temper- 
 ate moderate " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughed a wild voice. " I say, Deacon 
 who did you ever persuade, eh T 
 
 " I have the floor, I believe," said the Deacon. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! who now ? Tell us." 
 
 "Please address the Chair," interposed the moderator, tap- 
 ping that article of furniture upon the arm. 
 
 " I tell you," cried the wild voice, in still wilder tones, with no 
 laughter now, but with terrible earnestness, " I tell you the man 
 that talks about moral suasion to sots and drunkards is a fool." 
 
 The whole room buzzes with astonishment. 
 
 " Is a fool," the voice repeats. 
 
 The speaker rose. He stood somewhat unsteadily, leaning 
 now back against the wall, and now reaching forward in the 
 emphasis of his utterance, and leaning half over the desk 
 before him. His dress was very poor, his hair disheveled 
 and matted, and the Deacon, turning round to see him, recog- 
 nized the red-nosed man he had often met enjoying the hos- 
 pitality of Gregory Donoe's store. The Deacon said nothing, 
 but he turned upon the assembly a mild but impartial look, 
 that seemed to sum up concisely the law upon disturbances 
 of religious meetings, and to express the opinion that a fellow 
 who would put out a Deacon, ought to be summarily put out 
 himself.
 
 140 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Moral suasion to drunkards ! it 's no use, and it 's worse 
 than no use. / know it. I tell you I am one of 'em. I am, 
 by the Almighty God I am. And I KNOW.'' 
 
 The whole room is startled into perfect silence. In the 
 pause, the very fire seems to hold its breath. 
 
 "I Ve been a drunkard these ten years. You know it 
 You've seen me loafing about your streets ten yejjrs, and 
 you Ve had a chance to try your moral suasion and I ain't 
 the only chance, God knows. Yes, and you Ve tried it, too. 
 You know I used to want to knock off. You have n't failed 
 to say kind words, and try your suasion. You all try it By 
 God, the very man that sells me rum, says, when he pours 
 me out a glass, ' Come, come, Jerry ; you 'd better not drink 
 any more.' " 
 
 His profanity was terrible, but the equally terrible earnest- 
 ness of his speech suffered not even the Deacon to reprove it. 
 
 " You think a drunkard needs persuading. There 's not a 
 drunkard in the State that's worth saving who doesn't 
 wish, two hours out of three, every day of his life, that ho 
 could knock off. They Ve got moral suasion. What they 
 want is help ! help ! Good God ! HELP ! FORCE ! FORCE ! 
 to back it up. 
 
 " You Ve seen me you see me every day sitting round 
 loafing. You thought I Ve been asleep, thinking of nothing. 
 Outside I Ve been dead as a heap of ashes. Inside, I Ve been 
 a-fire ! 
 
 " When a man 's a going to sell himself to the devil, cool 
 and easy money down and wants to drive a sharp bargain, 
 like your rum-sellers, it may do to talk of moral suasion to 
 him. But when the devil 's caught a careless fellow and 's
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 141 
 
 got him tight in his clutches as he holds us, and we writh- 
 ing and squirming, then when you come along and think we 
 need moral suasion to get us away, you 're fools. And with 
 some of you it 's worse 'n that. Some of you know better, and 
 when you say so, and quote Scripture to it, you 're damned 
 fools. / can see you 're making the devil's speeches, and I 
 believe the Lord's sharper-sighted than I am. If he pays any 
 attention to what goes on in a temperance meeting, he '11 set- 
 tle your arguments one of these days. If God ever lets any 
 thing . earthly into hell, it '11 be rum-selling. There '11 be no 
 law agin' that business there, I tell you. The devil knows 
 what '11 pay for licensing, as well as you do. But you go on 
 selling liquor, and talking about moral suasion. Moral sua- 
 sion ! Good God ! if any body needs it, it 's your ministers 
 who darsen't preach rum down, and your deacons who quote 
 Scripture like a devil's concordance." 
 
 The discussion which followed these remarks was not of 
 that parliamentary character which can be well reported. 
 
 But whatever may have been the result of this meeting in 
 other respects, it at least wrought a marked change in the 
 position of Deacon Ficksom upon the temperance question, 
 and thereafter he became gradually more and more known as 
 conservative. 
 
 He took, from time to time, a more decided stand against 
 all innovations upon all the old-established liberties of men, 
 and raised his warning voice, upon occasion, against that 
 fanatical excitement which, before many years had passed 
 away, began to agitate society in Cone Cut Corners. 
 
 His enemies the best of men have enemies called him
 
 142 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 a " rummy," and attributed his defeat, in the usual church 
 election for deacon, two years later, by a two-thirds majority, 
 to his being pledged to the liquor interest ; though, as all 
 the world knows, this disappointment was the work of a fan- 
 atical clique, who, though unsupported by the real wishes of 
 the majority, succeeded, by unscrupulous maneuvering, in ob- 
 taining a temporary supremacy. 
 

 
 XIII. 
 
 SEPTEMBEE, 1851 
 
 UP stairs. 
 For here hu- 
 manity depos- 
 its itself in 
 strata, like ge- 
 ological soils, and the city grows 
 upward, aye ! and burrows down- 
 ward, too, as well as widens and 
 extends abroad. _ 
 
 Upstairs. Dusty, dark, and dingy stairs; well worn with 
 many foot-prints ; hollowed and sunken with strange bur- 
 dens. Many diversities of foot-marks these same steps 
 sustain. Rough, thick-shod feet tramp heavily up, and jolt 
 noisily down. Bright boots, prim and glossy, glance up and
 
 144 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 down. Many weary little feet, naked and sore, bearing the 
 heavy burden of a young heart, chilled and joyless in poverty, 
 cjjmb slowly here. Now and then dainty, tripping feet dance 
 up, bringing a rare beam of sunshine, and visions of bright 
 colors into staid and dusky-hued places. 
 
 Strange diversities of errands, too, they come upon. One 
 listening unseen could dream the meaning of their different 
 steps. The step of haste rapid, vigorous; it speaks of 
 hurried toil, a mind whirled in the vortex of uncertain busi- 
 ness. The step of leisure growing age and independence ; 
 deliberate, but firm. The step of indolence sauntering in 
 moody carelessness. The step of uncertainty wavering, 
 hesitating, stopping to consider, and starting again undeter- 
 mined. The step of poverty gentle, slow, wearisome ; a 
 hopeless sound is this step. The step of juvenility dashing, 
 delighting in noises and dusts. The step of anxiety again ; 
 nervous, quick ; rapidly this foot hurries away, as if it had 
 not time to finish its own foot-pfints. 
 
 There are many tiers of offices above, and many froward 
 feet that haste to do evil, run to and fro here, and climb 
 these stairs ; for, from the time of Babel, to these days in 
 which law offices have ascended into upper stories, it has 
 been observed that many men who climb much toward the 
 sky, do not thereby come nearer heaven. 
 
 These profound and solemn suggestions which rise with us 
 upon the staircase, are by no means intended as reflections 
 upon the honorable gentleman whose name heads our chapter, 
 much less upon our errand at his office. They are but 
 the suggestions of the moralizing and philosophic mind, 
 fertile in wholesome fruit from almost 
 
 -
 
 CONE CUT COHNEUS. 145 
 
 Passing from the bead of the stairs toward the end of the 
 entry, two steps down bring us on a level with Mr. Chessle- 
 bury's door. This leads us into a low room, so comfortably 
 full of substantial furniture, and so agreeably littered with 
 books and papers, that it looks snug and cozy, and almost 
 small. It is well-lighted by three broad windows upon one 
 side ; but the remaining sides are so filled and darkened with 
 the shelves of books, the secretary, the black marble mantle, 
 and with the maps which fill the spaces of the wall, that 
 the room has just that aspect of shaded light most convenient 
 and congenial to an intellectually busy place. There is an ob- 
 long table in the middle of the room, with a grove .of tall 
 quills growing out of a tub of an inkstand upon it. It bears 
 also the newspapers, piles of open letters, and a few books. 
 The seats are all easy-chairs, except a wooden chair at a 
 desk near the door, and also except a corner of the table, 
 which we may, for the moment, allude to- as a seat, inasmuch 
 as it affords a resting-place to the form of a young gentleman 
 of one-and-twenty or thereabouts, of a neglige style of attire, 
 and very-much-at-home-where-I-am manner. 
 
 This is Mr. Stretch, the junior professional gentleman and 
 the senior errand-boy of the establishment. Mr. Chesslebury, 
 it is almost unnecessary to say, is of course, the senior profes- 
 sional gentleman. The junior errand-boy is at this moment 
 endeavoring to fill that gentleman's usual seat with one end 
 of his body, and a neighboring chair with the other extrem- 
 ity ; and thus, in a position of considerable practical uneasi- 
 ness, effects great theoretic comfort and indolence. 
 
 "Well, John," said Mr. Stretch, from the corner of the 
 lable, as he polished his hat with his right elbow and inspect-
 
 146 CONE CUT COR NEKS. 
 
 eel narrowly the good qualities of the nap which were begin- 
 ning to be strongly developed by age, " so Mr. C. has gone. 
 Is he coming back again ?" 
 
 "No;" said John, spitting at the fire-place, and hitting 
 the letter press. " He said he was gone for the day." 
 
 " Aha !" said Mr. Stretch, speaking with much amiability 
 of manner, and meanwhile, reducing an incipient dent in the 
 top of his hat by pressure applied from within. " He 's gone 
 for the day, is he ? Well, I 'd hare advised him to start 
 earlier if he wanted to catch it." 
 
 " John," added he, after a pause, in which the hat relapsed, 
 " I am. going for the day." 
 
 " You '11 catch it !" retorted the lad sharply, " never fear 
 about that." 
 
 Mr. Stretch leaned over and selected a couple of the most 
 readable newspapers at hand, folded them deliberately to fit 
 his pocket, turned over the letters on the table for a few mo- 
 ments to post himself upon the news of the day, which he in- 
 dexed in his memory by saying half audibly as he read, 
 " Pockitt vs. Pierce ; pooh, eternal ! Pennsylvania property 
 again ; speculation, eh ! good ; h'm. Mrs. Chesslebury ; hullo ; 
 Confiden ah! huh!" 
 
 " Well !" said Mr. Stretch, after a short pause, in which he 
 seemed to have been reviewing his investigations into the 
 correspondence of Mr. Chesslebury, and proceeding as he 
 spoke to dress his somewhat disorderly hair with a brush 
 which he took for that purpose from a drawer in Mr. Chessle- 
 bury's secretary. "When I get things straightened out a 
 little, I must look into that Pennsylvania business. Perhaps 
 there is a chance for ine too."
 
 CONE CUT CORN BUS. 147 
 
 If John had been a stranger he might have wondered what 
 was the occupation of a man who was devoted to getting 
 things straightened out. His wonder would have been mis- 
 spent, for with Mr. Stretch every thing was crooked and en- 
 tangled, and needed to be straightened out. All his own 
 affairs, and all of other people's in his keeping he regarded, 
 and for the most part, indeed, he was justified in so doing, as 
 so many snarled and knotted threads, the straightening out 
 of which was the task he perpetually held up for his anticipa- 
 ting industry. Existence itself he thought sometimes had 
 some tangle about it, though here his attention was not much 
 spent, nor did he set himself at work to mark the crooked 
 places of his life, or straighten out himself. 
 
 " Well," asked John, quietly, " when do you expect to get 
 things out straight?" 
 
 "I'm sure I can't say.; there's every thing to be done; 
 seems to me there 's no end to it. I say, John, what does he 
 pay you ?" 
 
 " Twelve shillings." 
 
 " Whole ones 1 Ain't any of 'em clipped, or with holes 
 in 'em ?" 
 
 " It 's the regular price," said John, with some indifference 
 in his tone. 
 
 " Why, he could n't hire a dog for that, that knew enough 
 to pull a cart." 
 
 " It don't make any difference to me," said the boy, in a 
 careless tone, "but I used to make more than that in the 
 hotel business." 
 
 " You were a landlord, perhaps ?" inquired Mr. Stretch, with 
 a very humorous feint of misunderstanding the lad's expression.
 
 148 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 "Trading in hotels, I mean. Selling things. I used to 
 clear three or four dollars a week sometimes. But father 
 did n't like my being around so, and then he put me in here, 
 where he said I would learn. Pay don't make any difference 
 to me either way ; but you might as well expect a fellow to 
 grow fat by standing in a wholesale flour and pork store, as 
 think I M learn any thing good here for all he ever says to me." 
 
 " Well, now," said the other, taking a chair, and speaking 
 with the familiarity of a senior errand boy, though still retain- 
 ing the dignity of manner of the junior professional man ; 
 " that 's just it. Plenty of words about opportunities, and 
 contingencies, and prospects, and things leading to something, 
 but devilish little pay. If any body should ask me what he 
 pays me, I should be ashamed to mention it. And then to 
 say it is about the usual terms, and no office does differently. 
 True enough, but that's the worst of it. The man that was 
 here before me staid five years after he was admitted. He did 
 all the law business that Chesslebury charged people for, and 
 he stuck at it till he grew bald, and then left only because they 
 wouldn't pay him but five hundred dollars ; just as if society 
 expected to pay men just enough to feed them, and then ex- 
 pected them to go about to clothe themselves decently with 
 opportunities, and to lodge in contingencies, amuse themselves 
 at prospects, and improve in general with thincp that are 
 going to lead to something. I tell you what, Mr. Chessle- 
 bury, if things don't lead to something pretty soon, I shall 
 be driven to something.'' 
 
 Thus apostrophizing his employer, the junior professsiortnl 
 man rose to depart. At the door he stopped for an instant, 
 and ivsuming that easy aud good-humored manner, which for
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 149 
 
 a short time he had forgotten, he turned, and said facetiously, 
 to the occupant of his principal's chair, 
 
 " Well, sir, if you have no further commands to-day, I will 
 bid you good afternoon." 
 
 " None," said John, " only if he comes in and should ask 
 for you " 
 
 \ Why then you may tell him that I have gone to the 
 City Hall, and from there to the sheriff's office in Brooklyn, 
 and shall probably not be back until well say till six 
 o'clock." 
 
 So saying, he closed the door and disappeared. 
 " Huh !" said the solitary John, breaking silence a few mo- 
 ments after the departure of Mr. Stretch, and subjugating 
 another easy chair with his right foot as he spoke, and draw- 
 ing it near him so as to have one for each leg, " Huh ! Gone 
 after the sheriff. You '11 have a sheriff after you if you go on 
 this way." 
 
 < ' The ears of Mr. Stretch were unfortunately far beyond the 
 reach of this wholesome caution, he having reached by this 
 time the sidewalk of Broadway. After some lingering upon 
 corners, with that peculiar imcertainty of manner which be- 
 tokens a mental indecision, he finally bent his steps toward 
 the Hoboken ferry, and by easy and agreeable stages arrived 
 presently at the Elysian Fields, where some hours afterward 
 the last rays of twilight forsook him, disporting himself in con- 
 genial scenes. 
 
 John, left triangulated in easy chairs, dismissed Mr. Stretch's 
 complaints from his mind ; and his train of thought which the 
 conversation of that gentleman did, so to speak, switch off 
 and break up, glided on into its former track, whatever that
 
 I 
 
 150 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 may have been, and was soon again under full headway. Nor 
 was its course checked until the strokes of Trinity clock, which 
 in the subsiding noise of the latter part of the afternoon be- 
 came audible, reminded him of his approaching liberty. 
 

 
 XIY. 
 
 OCTOBER, 1851, 
 
 MR. CHESSLEBTTRY 
 sat in his office one 
 fine morning in Oc- 
 tober, balancing his 
 check-book prepara- 
 tory to calculating how much to subscribe 
 to the capital stock of the Mintermunny 
 Land and Timber Company, which was about to be organiz- 
 ed under his auspices, when his pleasant thoughts were in- 
 terrupted by a gentle knock at the door. 
 
 If the owner of the impinging knuckles had turned the 
 door-knob and walked in without ceremony, Mr. Chesslebury 
 would have gone on interpolating a balance at the foot of the 
 page, so as to set down naught and carry nine into the thou- 
 sands' column, and have left the visitor to announce himself, 
 But a knock indicated to him that he was about to receive 
 either a lady or an unaccustomed stranger. Therefore, under
 
 152 CONE CUT COUXEUS. 
 
 4 
 
 the alternative motives of gallantry and cariosity, he looked 
 up to see who it should be. 
 
 The entrance to the office was guarded by the youth John, 
 who presented, when on duty, a sharp and vigilant aspect, 
 very different from that in which he indulged himself during 
 afternoon relaxations in the empty easy chairs. He seemed to 
 be regarded by his employer in a strictly legal light, and as 
 simply an infant ; and the duties assigned to him were to do 
 as he was bid, to speak when he was spoken to, to shut the 
 door when other people left it open, put every thing away 
 that was left out of place, and in, general, to bear the burdens 
 of other people's delinquencies, which indeed, seems to be the 
 lot of infancy throughout the civilized world. 
 
 The same knock which stopped a balance in Mr. Chessle- 
 bury's book caused a sudden suspension of the operations of 
 the- particular infant in question, who then occupied about 
 three fifths of a chair, and one fourth of a desk, near the door, 
 and was at the instant engaged in engraving his employer's 
 name upon a ruler. Upon hearing the knock he rose, and 
 crying, " Come in," in a tone of surprise, pitched so high that 
 it seemed to come from somewhere in the ceilpg, opened the 
 door. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Chesslebury," said a hearty, pleasant 
 young voice. 
 
 The speaker was a young lad of about well, in the 
 
 professional eye of Mr. Chesslebury, certainly not yet out of 
 his infancy. He was of a tall form, and sufficiently slender to 
 suggest through that professional eye to the humorsome fancy 
 of its possessor, that if infants could not contract it was to be 
 hoped that some of them might expand. His features were
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 153 
 
 small but expressive, and his dress substantial, plain and neat. 
 He entered uncovered, in token of respect for the location ; and 
 having got fairly within the door turned and shut it with great 
 care, thus relieving the lad behind him of his usual tribute to 
 the negligence of visitors. 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury was entirely prepared, as the door opened, 
 to rise and come forward with a greeting of overwhelming 
 cordiality, if circumstances should render that politeness poli- 
 tic. Judging however, with a glance, and on the instant, that 
 the visitor was not likely to be made, at any effort, a pur- 
 chaser from him at par of the Mintermunny Stock, (on which 
 two per cent, was to be paid in,) he merely said, after an im- 
 pressive pause, " Ah, Master Bundle ; good morning," and sat 
 still to await approaches. 
 
 If there ever was a man who understood the art of adapting 
 his conversation to his hearers, it was probably Lafayette 
 Chesslebury. So much did he rely upon his persuasive pow- 
 ers, of which he considered this art the main secret, that the 
 only business to which he would address the professional eye 
 was such as consisted in convincing you or me, or some desir- 
 able subject among us, that it was for our interest to do some 
 very handsome thing by him. Negotiation was his occupa- 
 tion. Tongue was his working stock. Words his staple man- 
 ufacture. The expenses were small, the profits enormous. 
 To carry a point with a large-worded man, he too, could use 
 large words large sentences large periods and paragraphs, 
 developing large views, and large probabilities of large re- 
 sults. In contesting with brief-speaking, word-frugal men, he 
 would overpower with the abundance of his eloquence. In 
 contradicting eloquent men, he knew how to set at naught 
 7*
 
 154 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 their resonance by little, brief and pithy words. To men from 
 whom he cared to hear but little, he did set most infectious 
 examples of uncommunicativeness. 
 
 " Well, sir," said he to the young man who stood waiting 
 before him, and he settled his whiskered chin between two 
 graceful points of collar, and turned the professional eye upon 
 him. 
 
 Well, sir ! Only two words, but a paragraph of mean- 
 ing in each. 
 
 When with a pleasant falling inflexion of the voice, he said, 
 " Well," what more would he have conveyed to his young 
 friend if he had said, " I am at your service, sir, be brief, be- 
 cause time is precious ; not my tune in particular ; I can 
 afford the luxury of precious time ; but time in general ; busi- 
 ness time your time. You can not afford it." And when 
 with an agreeable rising inflexion he added in the same 
 breath, " Sir," what more would he have communicated if lu; 
 had said, " Sir, yes sir, sir to you. Your most obedient, sir. 
 You have taken the liberty to call upon me, and I am of 
 course entirely at your service, sir. What will you have ?" 
 
 With these remarks so delicately condensed and expressed 
 in two polite syllables, which he calculated must impress his 
 visitor kindly, at the same time that they should dismiss him 
 with most profitable brevity, he closed his check-book instinc- 
 tively, as if he felt that it ought not to be generally under- 
 stood that there was any limit to Latayette Chesslebury's 
 account, or that such a thing as a balance ever needed to be 
 ascertained by him. That laid aside, the professional eyes 
 from under eyebrows growing long and tangled, and varied 
 with gray, looked at Paul Bundle.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 155 
 
 " And how is your mother ?" he added. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said the young man, with a brightening 
 countenance. " She is better. She 's a great deal better, and 
 quite herself again." 
 
 " Been sick ]" 
 
 " O yes, sir, she 's been very poorly. She was very low, and 
 we were very sad for her one time." 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury expressed something between disapproval 
 and sympathy, by ticking twice with his tongue, as if his af- 
 fection were a clock that would go just two seconds and no 
 more. 
 
 " But she 's almost well now, and about again like herself." 
 
 The gentleman nodded slowly to indicate approval of the 
 course his cousin had taken. 
 
 " The doctor said it was a slow fever. I think it was as 
 much as any thing having so much to care for, and to do ; 
 and then father 's not being heard from too. She can't give 
 him up. At any rate," pursued the youth, still standing, 
 but taking courage that the professional eye was not directed 
 at him, " she was very low. I had to give up my place at 
 Haggle & Change's because I was needed at home, and now 
 I could take hold again it 's a dull season, and they don't need 
 me. Mother said I had better come and see you, and per- 
 haps you would know of some opening." 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury looked at an unknown point through, and 
 about three feet beyond, the mantle-piece, as if he would, 
 if possible, "pierce the wall with the professional eye, and 
 make an eligible opening for the young man in the chimney. 
 No such opening, however, occurred. And it appearing 
 thereupon to him that the case was hopeless, he said.
 
 156 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " No." 
 
 Paul waited as long as it seemed proper to prolong tlie 
 silence, and then commenced to thank the gentleman for his 
 kind attention. 
 
 " Well, Paul," said he, as the lad turned to go, " I am sorry ; 
 if I hear of any thing, I will let you know." 
 
 " I heg pardon," said Paul, stopping, " but would you have 
 any objection to my referring to you. If I ever should find a 
 place," he added, rather sadly, " it might be of great use to 
 me to mention it." 
 
 " Oh ! none at all," replied Mr. Chesslebury, as if he felt 
 himself good for any amount of respectability, and was ready 
 to honor his young friend's drafts in that currency* to an un- 
 limited extent. 
 
 Paul Bundle withdrew. 
 
 He stood for a moment at the top of the stairs, as if he had 
 come thither as a last resort, and there was no other place for 
 him to go to. Presently he moved mechanically, and then 
 hastening, as if suddenly awakened from forgetfulness, he was 
 rushing down the stairs, when, at the bottom, he came forci- 
 bly into the arms of some one else, who came around the 
 door-post as suddenly as he had descended. 
 
 " Why, Paul, halloo !" said a voice. 
 
 " Ah, Jason, how do you do 1 I beg your pardon. I hope 
 I have n't hurt you." 
 
 " No, but you might have killed somebody by running 
 over them in the street, if I had n't stopped you. Where 
 now in a hurry ?" 
 
 " Home, I believe," said Paul. 
 
 " Good," cried Jason. " I must go, too. I have only got
 
 CONE CUT COIIXEUS. 157 
 
 back this very day, but I must go and see your mother and 
 Susie. How do they do ?" 
 
 Then Paul said how they did, and from one thing to an- 
 other the conversation ran on, until Jason had asked all that 
 his father, a few minutes before, had listened to, and much 
 more beside. Jason found how Paul had held his former 
 place by working day and night; how it took him till ten or 
 eleven to distribute the purchases of the day ; how he could 
 not often reach home before midnight ; how Susie could not 
 take care of the shop and of mother all day, and then watch 
 with mother till midnight, too ; how disappointed he had 
 been to have to give up his place just before the year was out, 
 and lose the prospect of increasing Avages and better position, 
 which was, after all, the real compensation in view in many 
 months' hard work. Then Jason learned for the first time, 
 that father had gone away, and ascertained, from unwilling 
 answers, what he had before conjectured, that father had been 
 unfortunate, not in his work particularly ; perhaps in his 
 company and his habits ; and that he had not done well, and 
 had got into trouble; that he had left home a long time 
 ago, and had never written yet a line. And first and last,* 
 Jason realized how anxious was Paul for occupation, and 
 how important to mother and sister it was that he should 
 have it. 
 
 Arm in arm they walked up the Bowery, and a handsome 
 pair they were. 
 
 Miss Helen Chesslebury, in the Chesslebury carriage, re- 
 turning from a morning call on the eastern side of the city, 
 passed the young men. 
 
 " Oh, dear," pouted the charming young lady, " there 's
 
 158 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Jason with that fellow, the first thing. Why, he acts just as 
 if that shop-boy was his brother." 
 
 Alas ! my dear Miss Chesslebury, how true. What a mis- 
 take. Just as if he were his brother. Oh, dear ! What good 
 can be anticipated from a young man who acts just as if a 
 shop-boy were his brother. 

 
 XV. 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 1851. 
 
 MRS. MARGARET RUN- 
 DLE kept a thread, nee- 
 dle, and fancy store in 
 Grand-street. 
 
 We are bound in can- 
 dor to inform the genteel 
 reader who may peruse 
 this chapter in some 
 rural district far from 
 the noise and bustle of 
 
 the city, that Grand-street is by no means so grand a street 
 as might be supposed. For New York is a city of great 
 self-contradiction. It is related in ancient chronicles, that in 
 the beginning, when the Adams of that respectable metropo- 
 lis were assembled to name the places then newly under 
 their dominion, and had with great study and research pre-
 
 160 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 pared a list of names applicable to streets, parks, squares, 
 buildings, it was the Genius of Discord, standing near, who 
 volunteered to assort these names and apply them appro- 
 priately ; and the unsophisticated New Yorkers accepting the 
 proposal, she proceeded to execute the commission in most 
 characteristic style. 
 
 And thus, oh, genteel reader, you may start from the foot of 
 Manhattan Island, from the very toe thereof, indeed, where 
 stands Castle Garden, so called it would seem, because it 
 long since ceased to be a castle, and can never be a garden ; 
 and traveling up through the heart of the city, you shall cross 
 the Battery, that most hospitable and peaceful rurality, where 
 are neither enemy to batter, nor ordnance to batter with ; 
 and pass the Bowling-Green, where no man plays at bowls ; 
 and thence journeying up Broadway, by no means so broad as 
 many other ways, you shall pass "Wall-street, whose ancient 
 wall, built by the Dutch to keep out marauding Yankees, has 
 long since crumbled, Canal street, whose name is but the 
 epitaph of a canal a long time dead and buried, Xiblo's Gar- 
 den, stuffed as full as it can hold with a hotel and an opera- 
 house, holding no beds except in the chambers of the first, nor 
 flowers save those thrown upon the stage of the second, and 
 Union Square, which is round ; and thence as much farther 
 as you please, but always with a like experience. After this 
 trip you will not be surprised on entering Grand-street to find 
 it what it is ; a modest, substantial, respectable street, with 
 plain, economical houses in some parts, and neat shops crowd- 
 ed with low-priced goods in others ; an excellent street, a 
 most unimpeachable street ; but with no pretension to be the 
 grand-street of New York.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 161 
 
 From the Bowery and the observation of Miss Helen Chessle- 
 bury, the young men passed into Grand-street, such as Grand- 
 street is, and passing eastward through a long vista of stores 
 of various kinds, they came upon the little shop of Mrs. Mar- 
 garet Bundle. Standing close under the shadow of the flaunt- 
 ing breadths of gay calicoes and high piles of flannels and 
 sheetings which adorned significantly the front of a great dry- 
 goods establishment, it looked all the smaller in its contrast 
 with its next-door neighbor. It was a very modest little place. 
 It was, therefore, (or, if you prefer, oh, genteel reader, we will 
 say, notwithstanding,) a very charming little place. The shop 
 was a little room, and it was not entirely a shop either, but 
 had a family-sitting room air. Since the family seemed to 
 consist of a very genial-looking woman who was comfortably 
 disposed in a rocking-chair at the end of the counter, bal- 
 anced upon the other side of the room by a very charminir- 
 looking young girl seated and industriously employed at a 
 work-table in the corner, the domestic aspect of the room will 
 not, perhaps, be deemed objectionable. Between the seats of 
 the tvro occupants, was the back door of the shop, leading 
 into a little back room. On the very delightful day in which 
 Jason had the pleasure to visit this place, this door was open, 
 and revealed a bright little retreat, its floor carpeted in the 
 same style with the shop, and its open windows curtained, 
 within with spotless white, without, with festooned and waving 
 green, through which he caught bright glimpses of sun-light. 
 
 "Mother," cried Paul, cheerily, as they entered, "mother, 
 and Susie ! here 's cousin Jason." 
 
 In his pleasure in bringing his friend, he forgot, for the 
 moment, his sorrow in bringing a disappointment.
 
 162 CONff CTT CORNERS. 
 
 At the first sound of her brother's voice, Susie sprang for- 
 ward, and, asserting her sisterly privilege, regardless of Jason, 
 that modest young gentleman looked away, and took occasion 
 to greet particularly the elder lady. Mrs. Bundle in words 
 and tone expressed all kindly, and respectful affection, but 
 Jason observed that she made no effort to rise from her chair ; 
 and he saw many lines of care and anxiety quite new to him 
 in that pleasant face. 
 
 "And Susie," said he, turning again to her, "how do 
 you do ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I am so glad to see you, Cousin Jason," she said in 
 a frank, musical voice, extending a hand whose beauty was 
 undisfigured by gilded trinkets. 
 
 Greetings were cordial ; and the conversation was uncheck- 
 ed until, in the usual course of mutual congratulations, Susie 
 was suddenly silenced by her cousin's observing that she had 
 wonderfully improved, and grown quite handsome ; and Jason 
 himself, in turn, was as completely extinguished a moment 
 after, by being told by Mrs. Bundle that he looked very like 
 his father, and was quite a man himself now. 
 
 Jason, naturally feeling a little embarrassed after so long an 
 absence, and now, doubly so, by consciousness of change, was 
 at a loss for conversation, until he bethought himself of his 
 need of a pair of gloves. He thereupon requested of Susie 
 that she would do him the kindness to sell him a pair. 
 That young lady consented to do so upon condition of being 
 allowed to mend the old ones. This understanding being 
 had, the young people proceeded to the counter to accomplish 
 that business transaction. 
 
 " Cousin Jason," said Susie, after a short silence, raising her
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 163 
 
 blue eyes from the box of gloves between them, and speaking 
 with a smile, " I don't think you are a bit changed." 
 
 " Cousin Susie," returned Jason, " you are the same Susie 
 you always were, after all." 
 
 It was strange how much time the business transaction took 
 after this. First there was an endless discussion about the 
 color ; and then a careful examination of seams, which Susie 
 insisted upon, and then a long, long trouble about trying 
 them on, which Jason insisted upon, and a spirited contest 
 about who should be allowed to put away the boxes, which 
 both insisted upon ; which contest resulted in a sudden bump- 
 ing of heads, and a great deal of laughter ; and then at last, 
 the purchase being finally consummated, Jason found the sub- 
 ject exhausted. Then he made Paul promise to come to the 
 office next noon to meet him to form further plans, and bade 
 Mrs. Bundle good afternoon, and Susie good afternoon too, 
 and went out, and came back again in two minutes to 
 know when he should come to get the gloves that were left to 
 be mended, and then finally disappeared and went home. 
 
 Paul then, in answer to his mother's request, detailed the 
 fruitless searches of the day ; how he had scanned every news- 
 paper, which indeed he had done every morning for a fort- 
 night, in hopes of finding an advertisement for a boy; how at 
 last he met one, and hastened to apply for the place ; how he 
 found, when he reached the counting-house, that nearly twenty 
 were there before him; how there were little fellows there 
 who could neither write nor read, almost lost among the 
 larger boys, and apparently quite dismayed in the crowd ; 
 how there were ragged boys with their caps on, and neat, 
 spruce-looking boys with their caps off, and showing nicely-
 
 164 CONE CUT CORXEKS. 
 
 brushed hair, wet and sleek; how there were stout-looking 
 young men making themselves as short and juvenile as pos- 
 ' sible, in the hope that they might be taken for boys ; and 
 how there was even one old man with thin light hair and 
 very poor clothes, who stood a little apart from the crowd, 
 and kept bowing whenever the merchant's eye was turned 
 toward him. But Paul did not tell all the story then. It was 
 not until evening, and when they were alone, that Paul's 
 mother asked him what the merchant said to him ; and then 
 he replied with tears in his eyes : 
 
 "He made us all come in a row one after another, and 
 when he came to me, he stopped me and said, ' I like your 
 looks' ; and he asked me if I lived with my parents, and I 
 told him yes, that was, with my mother, and where we lived, 
 and he said was my father living, and I told him yes I be- 
 lieved so, and he said where Avas he, and I told him I did n't 
 know. Then he said, ' Oho ! that won't do,' and that I might 
 go ; and the boys all looked at me as I came away. Oh ! 
 mother," sobbed Paul as he finished, " I thought that if I ever 
 should touch a drop of drink, I hoped God would curse me, 
 as I knew he should." 
 
 With this bitter pledge revolving in his mind, Paul went to 
 sleep that night. 
 
 That evening, at about the same time that the unhappv 
 Paul was endeavoring to get to sleep, the magnificent Mr. 
 Chesslebury was trying as laboriously if not as successfully, to 
 keep awake. He was sitting in the private parlor of the 
 Chesslebury mansion, ensconsced in a many-jointed easy chair, 
 and appeared as comfortable as a man could who seemed to
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 165 
 
 have his head in the stocks, and was wearing a white Mar- 
 seilles strait waistcoat. It was early in the evening, that is to 
 say about eleven o'clock, and he was waiting the completion 
 of Mrs. Chesslebury's toilet for a party. The carriage, which 
 had just brought Jason and his sisters from the opera, was at 
 the door, and the coachman upon the box without, was grow- 
 ing nearly as sleepy as his master within. 
 
 In the interval which elapsed between the arrival of the 
 young people and the appearance of Mrs. Chesslebury, Jason 
 roused his father with the proposal that Paul should be 
 offered a place in the office. To this Mr. Chesslebury de- 
 murred, upon the ground of unnecessary expense. 
 
 " But why can't you arrange it in some way 1 You said 
 John was going to leave to go to school. Paul will do a 
 great deal more than he, I know." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said his father. 
 
 " Well now, why can't you take him ?" urged the son. 
 
 " Well," said his father, " I should like to do something 
 handsome for Paul." 
 
 " Father," said Jason, after a pause, " what were you going 
 to give for that pony for me ?" 
 
 "I do not know; whatever a good one costs. Crupper 
 said I could n't have what we want short of three hundred 
 dollars." 
 
 " And what will it cost to keep him ?" 
 
 " Oh, he '11 go right into the stable with the other horses." 
 
 " But it will cost something more to keep four horses than 
 three ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied his father, " I presume, doctor's bills and all, 
 it would come near two hundred dollars a year additional."
 
 166 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Would it ? Well father, I 'd rather have Paul than the 
 pony, so you can afford to have him now, can't you ?" 
 
 " Ha l f we could n't afford to pay so much for a boy." 
 
 " Why, certainly, father, if I give up the pony, you can." 
 
 " Oh, no ! that makes no difference. We can not expect 
 to give so much for a boy." 
 
 " Why not, does n't he work as hard ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, but then we can not afford to pay so much for 
 boys, because there are plenty of them, and we can get them 
 cheaper." 
 
 " Well," said Jason, " whatever he is worth, you can give 
 him. Now please send for him to-morrow; before some- 
 body else engages him," added the lad, with intended sharp- 
 ness, worthy of his parent. 
 
 Here entered Mrs. Chesslebury, arrayed in gay attire in 
 very gay attire -in fact, in attire calculated to be several 
 hundreds of dollars gayer than the attire of any one whom 
 she might chance to meet that evening. It was with this 
 sole view that Mrs. Chesslebury had been got up for that 
 occasion with great care and labor, and without regard to ex- 
 pense, except that regard which consists in making the ex- 
 pense as large as possible. If Mrs. Chesslebury proves more 
 expensive to-night than Mrs. Stuccuppe, then Mrs. Chessle- 
 bury is a triumph, and the family name shines in her splen- 
 dor. If not, then Mrs. Chesslebury is a failure, and the family 
 name is eclipsed. 
 
 A perfumed breeze bearing down upon us, announces her 
 approach, and a rustling proclaims her presence. It is a rust- 
 ling, not as of an uneasy motion, but a still rustle ; she rustles 
 as she stands, like a wild poplar-tree in a perfectly calm day.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 167 
 
 without apparent cause or reason ; she rustles all over, around, 
 under and through. 
 
 In the light of this rustling splendor, Mr. Chesslebury de- 
 parts for an evening of pleasure, from which he succeeds in 
 tearing himself and Mrs. Chesslebury triumphant, at the early 
 hour of three o'clock. Strange to say, although they went 
 and returned in a coach, Mrs. Chesslebury enters the mansion 
 in the full possession and exercise of her rustling powers. 
 
 In the morning at breakfast, Mr. Chesslebury was reminded 
 by his son of his compact ; much to the diversion of the young 
 ladies, who charged their brother with proclivities toward 
 jockey ism, for having swapped animals before he had bought 
 the first one. 
 
 True to his word, the father sent for Paul that morning, 
 and in an exordium of some length and vagueness, he gave 
 him to understand that he had long been intending to do 
 something handsome by him, and he impressed very strongly 
 upon his juvenile mind, grounds of great gratitude. 
 
 " The time seems now to have arrived," said that gentle- 
 man, spreading out his sentiments in a confidential tone, and 
 pinning them down with sharp glances of the professional 
 eye, " the time has now arrived, I believe, for me to accom- 
 plish something. Circumstances now place it in my power 
 to offer you arrangements which, if consummated upon your 
 part, will, I doubt not, be highly advantageous to one, who 
 like you, knows how to profit by all the privileges of such a 
 position, and in this relation, I have no doubt that things will 
 lead to something. I am confident that things may be made 
 to lead to something very important ; in fact, things can't 
 help leading to something ; and this to a young man, is of
 
 168 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 great advantage. You would here have many conditions of 
 improvement which can not be expected elsewhere, and you 
 would be thrown among men of importance and high charac- 
 ter, and in fact, in your capacity of messenger, you would 
 often enjoy the opportunity of calling upon men of position 
 and standing, whose acquaintance would be most valuable, 
 and things I have no doubt will lead to something, which, if 
 not immediately and pecuniarily remunerative, yet would 
 be of far greater and higher importance." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Paul, to fill a pause. 
 
 " I have no hesitation," pursued Mr. Chesslebury, " in saying 
 that I think you would succeed admirably ; you would have 
 much to learn ; and that is the great advantage that there is 
 so much that can be learned ; here are books and papers and 
 and all that is calculated to lead to something eventually. 
 Indeed," concluded he, " I hardly know what the arrangement, 
 if consummated and operating successfully, might not lead to. 
 It opens before you before any young man who may enter 
 upon it, a wide field, a new field, of thought and informa- 
 tion and influence and business and indeed all those in- 
 numerable sources of success which, if rightly and perseveringly 
 pursued, can not fail ultimately and finally to lead to something 
 of one kind or another inestimably valuable to a young man." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Paul, with a general feeling of grati- 
 tude and admiration. 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury received these words silently. He was 
 estimating the amount which could be reasonably deducted 
 from the usual salary, on account of circumstances that were 
 going to " lead to something." 
 
 Paul was mercenarily thinking of wages too. It seemel a
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 1G9 
 
 delicate topic, and not exactly the thing to speak of in con- 
 nection with the enjoyment of pastoral fields of study and 
 shepherd-like circumstances. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to think longer of it," asked Mr. 
 Chesslebury. 
 
 " If you please, sir," answered Paul, " I should like to know 
 what wages you would like to give." 
 
 " Oh," said the gentleman, as if it were a thing he had not 
 thought of in this connection, " wages ! Ah ! You have never 
 been in an office before, I think ?" 
 
 " No, sir/' 
 
 " Well, I suppose under the circumstances," commenced 
 the gentleman, " however, in common offices "they pay some- 
 times one hundred dollars a year, for the first year. You 
 would here have, as I have said, many unusual circumstances 
 which I might claim should qualify the question, but I want 
 to make a most liberal and handsome arrangement, and that 
 amount, under all the circumstances, I should be very glad to 
 pay you." 
 
 But just here Mr. Stretch coming forward from his seat, 
 interrupted with a question about some matters he was en- 
 deavoring to get straightened out. Whether he did this out 
 of commiseration for the fly, or of grudge to the spider, he 
 succeeded in quite interrupting Mr. Chesslebury's negotiation. 
 The things that were in hand of Mr. Stretch to be straightened 
 out, were considered by Mr. Chesslebury as things that might 
 lead to something, and our young friend Paul was dismissed 
 to consider and reply at leisure Avhether he would like to have 
 something very handsome done by him, with a gratuity thrown 
 in of one hundred dollars a year. 
 8
 
 170 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 That night Paul made long and repeated calculations as to 
 how mother could make out to meet expenses, if he were not 
 earning full wages, and convinced himself unwillingly again 
 and again, that by no marshaling of figures and management 
 of estimates, could they support themselves unless he earned 
 at least four dollars a week. He was therefore compelled to 
 make up his mind to commit the ungrateful politeness of de- 
 clining Mr. Chesslebury's offer. This he did in a short note, 
 which he left early the next morning in the hands of the in- 
 fant John at the office door. 
 
 John looked at the note and the bearer with curiosity, and 
 said, " Are you coming in here T' 
 
 " No," returned Paul. 
 
 " Good," said the infant, shutting the door. 
 
 That evening Mr. Stretch, in his usual review of Mr. Chessle- 
 bury's correspondence, picked Paul's note from the waste- 
 paper basket, where it lay crumpled up. He straightened it, 
 out with great care, and read it ; and as he read it, he said, 
 
 Good."
 
 XVI. 
 
 OCTOBER, 1851. 
 
 THE next morning, Paul 
 Rundle, looking as was 
 his wont in the columns 
 of WANTS in the morn- 
 ing paper, in the hope 
 that somebody wanted 
 him, found the following 
 advertisement : 
 
 " WANTED, a lad to tend 
 store and run of errands. 
 
 He must come well recommended ; must be steady, active, 
 quick at figures, a good penman, understand accounts, and be 
 a judge of money, and must be able and willing to make him- 
 self .generally useful. To such an one a good place will be
 
 172 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 given, with a prospect of advance. The best of reference will 
 be required. Wages, four dollars a week. Apply to Baggie- 
 hall, Floric & Co.)"3l7 Broadway." 
 
 Immediately after breakfast and Paul took his breakfast be- 
 fore Mrs. Stuccuppe's supper things had been cleared away 
 Paul started for Bagglehall, Floric & Go's., to answer the 
 advertisement. If we should say that Messrs. Bagglehall, 
 Floric & Co., kept a grocery and liquor store, we should do 
 them injustice. If we should say that they were wholesale 
 and retail dealers in family groceries, and in foreign and 
 domestic wines, we should say exactly what their sign did'. 
 
 The store contrasted strongly with its next-door neighbor, 
 Haggle & Change's. The latter was fresh and flashy ; the 
 former Avas old and dingy. The one delighted in huge show- 
 windows as transparent as a vacuum, brightly-polished coun- 
 ters, and carefully swept floors ; the other in cobwebs, and a 
 certain dust of an eminently wholesome appearance. The one 
 was new and genteel ; the other old and respectable. The 
 one resembled its ribbons ; the other its cheese. It was an 
 inconveniently crowded store too, was Bagglehall, Floric & Go's. 
 Only at night, when it was carefully shut up, could it contain 
 its contents. As soon as it was opened in the morning, they 
 overflowed upon the sidewalk, and there stood all day long. 
 It was so crowded full of barrels, and boxes, and baskets, and 
 bags, piled up every where to the very ceiling, in every pass- 
 age-way but one, against every door but one, darkening every 
 window but one, that half way down the counter, where the 
 book-keeper's desk stood, a candle was necessary to give the 
 spiders light to work by. Just behind this desk was the 
 darkest possible pair of stairs. They were effectually walled
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 173 
 
 in from outside gaze by baskets and boxes ; baskets ob- 
 long like a coffin ; baskets bottle-necked like a demijohn ; 
 baskets full and baskets empty, baskets covered and baskets 
 open ; with boxes too ; round boxes and oblong boxes, and 
 many square boxes containing, as an algebraic inscription, 
 XXX, upon their labels, indicated, unknown quantities of ale 
 and porter. 
 
 As Paul entered the store, a man whose sandy whiskers 
 looked like a dilapidated hearth-brush came up the stairs. 
 He had a gray checked cap upon his head, and wore an apron 
 which was heavy and stiff with dark stains of fluids, semi- 
 fluids and solids ; and in each hand he held a long-necked 
 bottle, covered with dust and cobwebs. 
 
 " Hi !" said he, holding one up between his finger and 
 thumb by the very tip of its neck ; " Hi ! the spiders know 
 what 's good, they do. They know where it is. They can't 
 get in, but they hang around it. Talk about animals not hav- 
 ing reason. You never saw a fly down in that cellar, did 
 you ? What do you suppose the spiders are so thick there 
 for 1 They know what 's there, they do. Instinct ? Non- 
 sense ! I say, ain't it fine ?" 
 
 " It is handsome, and no mistake," conceded the gentleman 
 who was standing behind the dim candle, writing at the dark 
 desk. As he spoke, he looked up from his accounts, and held 
 the candle close behind the bottle. 
 
 " Handsome ?' echoed the other. " Ain't it, though ? Talk 
 of the fine arts. There ain't any thing, according . to my eye, 
 in the fine arts as handsome as that. It 's real regular genu- 
 ine, and no mistake, that is. It 's the real Symington eigh teen- 
 twenty."
 
 174 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Hold on," said his companion, " you M better keep that 
 story for customers, you know. It 's too good to bo wasted." 
 
 *' Practice," responded the other ; " it 's good practice." 
 
 " "Well, you need n't practice on me," returned the clerk. 
 " You may be practitioner, but I '11 be hanged if I '11 be pa- 
 tient Well!" 
 
 This last was addressed with some sharpness to Paul, who 
 had advanced to the counter, and there stood waiting for a 
 pause in the conversation. 
 
 " I called, sir, in answer to an advertisement in this morn- 
 ing's " 
 
 " Back room," interrupted the clerk, erecting his right fore- 
 arm upon the desk, into a finger-post for Paul's guidance. 
 He then dropped his pen into the inkstand, wiped it on his 
 hair to dispose of superfluous ink, and went on with his 
 writing. 
 
 Paul followed the direction of the finger-post, and went 
 back to a little counting-room, divided off from the rest of the 
 store by a thin partition, partly glass. In this counting-room 
 were a green safe, a high desk, a stool to match, an easy-chair, 
 and an empty fire-place. Upon the mantle over the fireplace, 
 there were a row of dingy bottles, a box of cigars, and a pair 
 of feet. The feet were, by a pair of chunky legs, apparently 
 connected with something in the easy-chair. This something, 
 whatever it was, was completely hid by a large newspaper 
 interposed between the easy-chair and the fireplace, and be- 
 neath which the legs disappeared. As the door opened, the 
 newspaper dropped and disclosed to the view of Paul a per- 
 fectly round head, a crooked nose, and a very large vest. 
 
 " Good morning," said the vest. The voice proceeded ap-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 175 
 
 patently from the vest, which moved quite as much as the 
 lips in the utterance. 
 
 " I called, sir," said Paul, " in answer to an advertisement 
 which appeared in this morning's Sun." 
 
 " Yes ! yes !" replied the vest. " Take a seat ; take a 
 seat." The legs moved the feet from the mantle to the floor, 
 and turned the vest round in its chair more toward the young 
 man. " Yes ! yes ! take a seat." 
 
 There being no other seat in the room than the high 
 stool, Paul declined the handsome offer of such promotion, 
 and stood up. 
 
 " What name ?" 
 
 Paul told his name, and then, in answer to further inquiries 
 by the occupant of the easy-chair, told him where he lived 
 and who his mother was, and that his father was away ; but 
 where or how he did not say ; and how it happened that he 
 had now no situation, and whom he was with last. And he 
 gave him a specimen of his handwriting, and did a sum in 
 mental arithmetic so quickly, that the round head had not the 
 least idea whether it was accurate or not, or how it was done, 
 though it nodded approvingly at the prompt answer when it 
 was announced. 
 
 Paul also then learned that the round head, and the crooked 
 nose, and the large vest, were all the property of Mr. Floric, 
 the junior partner of the firm of Bagglehall, Floric & Co., and 
 that what the firm wanted was, according to the tenor of the 
 junior partner's conversation, a young man of good mental 
 abilities to help keep the books and attend to the accounts, 
 and a young gentleman of pleasing address to help tend the 
 counter and to be assistant salesman, and an able-bodied light
 
 - 
 176 CONK CUT CORNERS. 
 
 porter, to help get out and pack the goods, and a young man 
 of some acquaintance with horses, who was an experienced 
 and careful driver, to drive one of the wagons in an emerg- 
 ency, and a person of strict integrity to fulfill the pecuniary 
 trusts of the place, and a small boy to run of errands and 
 make himself generally useful ; and that they were only will- 
 ing to pay for the small boy to run of errands, and expected 
 the assistant book-keeper, and the assistant salesman, and the 
 assistant light porter, and the assistant driver, and the young 
 man of strict integrity, all to throw themselves in. To the 
 contract, as thus defined, Paul expressed his willingness to ac- 
 cede, and desired then and there to take hold and commence 
 work. 
 
 " At least, sir,", said he, " I can try it for to-day, and if I 
 succeed to your satisfaction, I can go on ; if not, why " 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Floric, to whom this proposal seemed un- 
 objectionable, " say you try it for to-day. Hold on though, a 
 minute. The best of references required. Bagglehall was 
 particular about the references." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Paul, " I can refer you to Mr. Haggle, 
 next door, or to Mr. Change " 
 
 " H'm," said Mr. Floric, somewhat doubtfully. 
 
 " and to the Honorable Mr. Chesslebury." 
 
 " Lafayette ?" inquired Mr. Floric, 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Paul. " He 's a relation of ours, sir, my 
 mother's cousin. He offered me a situation as errand-boy in 
 his office, sir, but the salary was so low ; the advantages for 
 study, and improvement, and acquaintance, and those things 
 you know, sir, he said were so great that the salary had to be 
 low, and I could n't possibly get along with it, for I have to
 
 CONE OUT CORNERS. 177 
 
 support myself, so I could n't take the place, though I wanted 
 to very much. But though he could n't get me a situation, 
 lie said that if his name would be of any use to me I should 
 be welcome to refer to him." 
 
 " Lafayette Chesslebury all over," said Mr. Floric, slapping 
 his hand upon his knee, while an audible chuckle agitated the 
 surface of the large vest. Probably Paul's astonishment at 
 this irreverent treatment of the name of his august relative, 
 was apparent in his countenance, for Mr. Floric added : 
 
 " So he 's your mother's cousin, is he ? That 's consider- 
 able honor to start with, my boy. Hococks !" 
 
 The man with the hearth-brush whiskers made his appear- 
 ance in obedience to this summons. To him Paul was intro- 
 duced as " young Rundle, who had applied for the situation, 
 and who was to take hold and see what he could do." 
 
 " Very good, sir," said Hococks. 
 
 " He can take right hold and help you get out that order 
 for for Mr. for what's-his-name, there, you know up on 
 Washington Square." This, with a nod of the round head 
 expressing great intelligence, and a wink which wrinkled the 
 crooked nose into an expression of great mystery, and a sim- 
 ultaneous point of the thumb toward Paul. Seeing all mys- 
 tery and no intelligence reflected in the countenance of Ho- 
 cocks, the partner took that man out to one side, just be- 
 yond distinct ear-shot of Paul, where he was heard to speak, 
 interspersed among other words, the following, " family 
 smart boy sharp keep dark no hurry on trial the busi- 
 ness." 
 
 From this interview, in which the gray checked cap and 
 hearth-brush whiskers were seen to nod a great many times,
 
 178 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 Mr. Hococks came forth, regarding Paul with great attention 
 and curiosity, much to the confusion of that somewhat 
 modest candidate for employment in the respectable estab- 
 lishment. Then, guided by Mr. Hococks and a dun candle, 
 Paul descended the cellar stairs into the subterranean vaults 
 of the store. Thanks to the candle, the cellar was not per- 
 fectly dark. There was, it is true, glimmering through the 
 grating in the side-walk, which formed the roof of the other 
 end of the cellar, a little dingy light, but it seemed like little 
 more than the shadow of twilight, and merely sufficed to 
 make the darkness look respectable. Paul could therefore see 
 very little, until the candle, groping its way to one side, set 
 the catching example of combustion to a gas-burner, over a 
 rough bench against the wall, and immediately the grating 
 and the candle were eclipsed with a flood of light. Then he 
 saw rubbish of every respectable description ; fragments of 
 old boxes, pieces of baskets, hoops, piles of musty bags, old 
 brooms, heaps of broken bottles, bins of coal, empty barrels, 
 and a pile of staves looking like an admirable throw of mag- 
 nified jackstraws. 
 
 Casting hasty glances at these features of the place, which 
 were mostly distributed in the darkest end of the cellar, Paul 
 followed his guide to the bench. Stored in racks upon one 
 side were bottles of all sizes and sorts, and in great quantities. 
 Wine bottles by the hundred ; London brown stout and pale 
 India ale bottles by the gross ; Champagne bottles by the 
 thousand; all empty, bright, and clean. On the other side 
 was a row of hogsheads raised on a little platform, with their 
 faucets all in a lice. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Hococks, producing a crumpled memo-
 
 . CONE CUT CORNERS 179 
 
 randum from the gray cap, and smoothing it out upon the 
 rough bench, " we have got a uice order to fill. First we '11 
 take the South Side Madeira I think. Now Bob, we Ve got 
 to make up two dozen real old South Side East India. Them's 
 the bottles, that kind no," said he, with his hand on the 
 rack, suddenly interrupting himself, " that ain't the kind. 
 We have n't got one of those English bottles left." 
 
 In great apparent consternation the man ran to the foot of 
 the stairs and called for Mr. Floric. That gentleman came to 
 the cellar door, but being of a person not adapted to running 
 up and down stairs as an amusement, he stood there and re- 
 sponded to the call, peering down the stairway, and shouting : 
 
 " What 's the row ?" 
 
 "I say, sir," replied Hococks, in a loud under-tone, "we 
 have 'nt got any of those English Madeira bottles. He wants 
 two dozen, and we have 'nt got any left ; not an individual 
 bottle." 
 
 Mr. Floric looked up to see who might be around in a 
 position to listen, and looked down again and said, 
 
 " The devil, Hococks." 
 
 Mr. Hococks did not notice the apposition, but continued. 
 
 " I sent down to the Drinkwater House yesterday, but they 
 hadn't any empty yet. They're to have a dinner-party to- 
 morrow, and we can have plenty the day after, but that won't 
 do, I suppose. Mr. um he 's very particular about his 
 bottles." 
 
 " Fact !" assented Mr. Floric. 
 
 " And if we send up wrong bottles he '11 make difficulty." 
 
 "Precisely," said Mr. Floric. "Can't you get 'em at 
 Puzzling's Hotel?"
 
 180 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " No ! they supply Waters & Bungole." 
 
 " So they do. Stf they do," nodded Mr. Floric. " Have 
 you got any paper labels left ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir," responded Hococks. 
 
 " "Well, you '11 have to use them." 
 
 " What bottles ?" persisted Mr. Hococks. 
 
 "Oh!" cried Mr. Floric, "I have it. Stuccuppe sent down 
 a lot this morning, just the thing ; what we sent his last 
 sherry in ; they 're at the back-door now. They are plain ; 
 they '11 do for any heavy wine." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Hococks, in a tone of great belief. 
 
 " When you make that up, Hococks," added Mr. Floric, 
 " put in a . little more brandy. The last we sent him he 
 thought was not so good a body as he 'd been used to. His 
 taste is getting that way. Put in a little more brandy." 
 
 In accordance with these instructions, Paul, who began to 
 comprehend the art before him, was set at work to clean the 
 empty bottles sent down from Mr. Stuccuppe's ; and he won- 
 dered occasionally who it was that was to be accommodated 
 with them next, whose eye for bottles was so sharp, and 
 whose taste for the contents so delicately sensitive. 
 
 Mr. Hococks meanwhile calculated, according to the arith- 
 metic of the respectable dealers, that in the usage of trade it 
 would take just one dozen and six quarts to fill two dozen 
 quart bottles. Then he brought forth from under the bench 
 a large tin can which he cleaned by a whiff of his handker- 
 chief, a puff with his breath and a shake with his hands. 
 Placing this under a faucet which stood first and foremost in 
 the long line of faucets, but which was not connected with any 
 hogshead, he laid the foundation for the South Side Madeira,
 
 CONE CUT CORKERS. 181 
 
 in about five quarts, measured by the eye, of pure,' or nearly 
 pure, Croton Avater. To this he added from a large hogshead, 
 which contained the Madeira of the trade, about a dozen 
 quarts, drawn in a gallon measure, with a little over, thrown 
 in by way of giving himself a margin for tasting. Then 
 he lifted the can upon the bench, and sat down by the side 
 of it to reflect. 
 
 It must not be supposed that Mr. Hococks, in 'meditation, 
 felt any compunctions at having diluted the liquid called Ma- 
 deira. There Avas no ground for any such feeling. Rather 
 for satisfaction. For the history of the old South Side of 
 eighteen-twenty, and of East Indian memory, was somewhat 
 as follows. 
 
 Not quite two years since, a dirty crew of naked natives, 
 jumping up and down, with songs, in the wine-vats of the 
 south side of the Island of Madeira, crushed with their feet 
 the over-ripe and bursting grapes ; and as the juice and pulp 
 squirted from under the soles of their dancing feet, and spirted 
 up between their brown toes, and spattered upon their brawny 
 thighs, they sang the louder and danced the faster, until the 
 perspiration, starting in large drops, rolled down their hirsute 
 legs, mingling with spatterings of grape, and was finally rub- 
 bed off into the vat by the hands of the retiring laborers ; 
 and thus was accomplished, at a very early period, the first di- 
 lution of the pure juice of the grape. Thence undergoing 
 many equally pleasant courses of treatment, the final result 
 was strengthened with brandy to enable the same 'to endure 
 well the voyage, and by an imaginary trip to the East Indies, 
 came quickly to London, and there was entered safely in 
 bond.
 
 . 
 
 182 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Not even here, however, though safe under government 
 care and surveillance, did its history end. For here by virtue 
 of the authority of those convenient ordinances of the British 
 Government, known as Treasury Order, 20th of May, 1830, 
 Treasury Order, 20th of June, 1830, and other like wholesome 
 regulations, it was mixed again with not over twenty per cent, 
 of brandy and with other wines, also Madeira so called, ad 
 libitum, then and there also in bond ; and thence, having 
 been racked into other casks, was brought into the city of 
 New York, where it appeared by the oath of the respectable 
 dealers, who imported it, (and who subsequently made a 
 profit on it by expanding it into thirteen hogsheads out of a 
 dozen,) that its original and true cost to them was 48i cents 
 a gallon. Coming from them into the hands of Messrs Baggie- 
 hall, Floric <fe Co., they surely did it no harm in adding what 
 they fairly could to its quantity, since they could not injure 
 its purity. 
 
 At any rate, so Mr. Hococks thought, and made no scru- 
 ples in doing so. His next proceeding was to add a few drops 
 of some pleasant preparations contained in certain phials con- 
 veniently kept in a shelf above the bench, the effects of which 
 were supposed to be in every way the same as thirty years of 
 age and a real voyage to the East Indies. Lastly he drew a 
 quart of brandy and proceeded deliberately to work the mix- 
 ture up to the standard of the customer's taste. When he 
 had arrived so near success as to seem entirely doubtful about 
 it, and had balanced many spoonfuls upon his tongue in long 
 hesitation, he got up and rinsed his mouth thoroughly with 
 cold water. He then returned to his experiments, and, mak- 
 ing one more addition, pronounced it as good as it need be.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 183 
 
 " But I hate," said he, " to get up these things in a hurry. 
 I ought to have time to it, and let 'em stand, and ripen." 
 
 By this time the bottles were ready, and he instructed Paul 
 in which box to find the labels with the right name upon 
 them, and in which box he would find the corks with the same 
 name branded on the end. Then he went up Stan's with a 
 wine-glass, opaque with respectable dirt, and filled with the 
 fine old South Side Maderia of 1820 of East Indian ex- 
 periences, to be tasted and approved by one of the respecta- 
 ble dealers. 
 
 In the course of the morning the two dozen bottles were 
 filled, corked, sealed, labeled, and dusted with a highly re- 
 spectable dust, until they presented that artistic and admirable 
 appearance which was so pleasing to the cultivated eye of Mr. 
 Hococks. When they had been finally arranged in two bask- 
 ets, they were carried up into daylight ; w T here the old South 
 Side Madeira was presented as one might almost say in 
 the original packages of importation, to the critical approving 
 scrutiny of Mr. Floric. 
 
 In the counting-room, this commodity was charged to ac- 
 count of the customer who ordered it, at the low price of 
 twenty dollars the dozen ; a very insignificant advance upon 
 cost, it must be confessed, when we take into account the skill 
 and care expended by the respectable dealers, to bring it into 
 its present excellent condition to say nothing of the trouble 
 of getting up foreign corks and labels, at home. 
 
 During the day too, a great many bottles of champagne were 
 got up by the simple and ingenious process of aggravating 
 cider into effervescence by sugar of lead, and forcing it, with a 
 cork after it, through a machine into each bottle. Lastly Mr.
 
 184 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Hococks, after bringing out a great many demijohns of various 
 sizes, and filling them with various combinations of the con- 
 tents of hogsheads, phials and water-faucet, checked off the 
 last item on the crumpled memorandum, and said that job 
 was done. 
 
 Paul that night was much gratified at receiving the appro- 
 bation of Mr. Floric, and the patronizing approval of Mr. 
 Hococks ; and was still more pleased when the former called 
 him into the counting-room and told him to come again to- 
 morrow. Still as he went home, and as he lay awake that 
 night, he found it very hard to decide whether he should ac- 
 cept a situation in the house of Bagglehall, Floric & Co., 
 Respectable Dealers.
 
 XVII. 
 
 OCTOBER, 1851. 
 
 THE Chesslebury mansion is all alive to-day with busy 
 preparations. Externally the house has a demure and muffled 
 aspect "by reason of carefully closed blinds ; but within it is as 
 busy as an ant-hill. For it was last week announced to the 
 world of fashion, by the broadest card of the season, that Mrs. 
 Chesslebury will be at home this evening ; and crowds are 
 expected to look in, to witness that rare domestic event. 
 
 It seems as if all the vehicles that pass through the street
 
 186 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 stop to pay a tribute to the busy mansion. Now it is a car- 
 riage whose footman leaves a card ; or a baker's cart deposit- 
 ing a basket. Now a milkman, who sits and ladles out a 
 great many drops into the servant's pitcher, measuring by his 
 own convenient rule that two gill dippers make a quart. 
 And now comes the wagon from Bagglehall, Floric & Go's., 
 with many baskets and, brown paper parcels and twine-laced 
 bags, and many more demijohns large demijohns small 
 demijohns medium demijohns all with diminutive tickets 
 tied to their necks, like so many carrier-pigeons on duty. 
 These must be messengers of some importance, too ; for Avhen 
 the driver telling his horse to stand the facetious fellow! 
 hands these in at the basement door, the gentlemanly-dressed 
 young man stands there to receive them affectionately, and 
 pays them great regard. He condescends too, to bestow a re- 
 cognition even upon the plebeian driver, although he has no 
 attention for baker's baskets, and no consciousness of milk- 
 men. Now, the last demijohn handed in, and its message 
 read with interest, he says, with a tone of some concern, "Is 
 this all ?" 
 
 And the facetious driver answers concisely, " No ! 'nother 
 load long necks ;" and makes a pop with his mouth, and 
 jumps into his swinging wagon, and undertakes the task of 
 countermanding the order to stand, and at last succeeds, and 
 is whirled away by an unexpected start. His departure is fol- 
 lowed by other arrivals which have no charm for the gentle- 
 manly-dressed young man. In the middle of the afternoon 
 again comes the facetious driver, his easy wagon this time 
 packed with trunk-shaped baskets, like a freight crate. One 
 after another these are handed in, each one a good lift for the
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 187 
 
 driver, and are deposited, under the delighted eye of Wilson, 
 upon the entry floor, where they count two dozen baskets, all 
 told ; and thence, under the supervision of that gentleman, 
 they are subsequently removed to the secret and subterranean 
 recesses of the Chesslebury mansion. 
 
 Later in the afternoon, the gentlemanly-dressed young man 
 having put on a little cap, jauntily took a broom, as another 
 gentleman would take a cane, and sallied forth to enjoy the 
 air and gentle exercise by a lounge upon the sidewalk. It should 
 not for a moment have been supposed that this movement had 
 any thing to do with the straws with which the champagne- 
 baskets had marked their track from the curb-stone to the 
 area door ; indeed, he would have at once resented the insinu- 
 ation. He promenaded gently before the house, the broom 
 following him upon the pavement ; much in the same style 
 as he had observed the elder Miss Chesslebury to walk with a 
 live canine skeleton, called a grayhound, induced to loco- 
 motion by a blue ribbon. In the midst of this pleasant 
 recreation, seeing a gentleman acquaintance in the distance, 
 he abandoned even this remote semblance of activity, and 
 composed himself to a leisurely position against a tree-box, in 
 which he might haVe passed for a remarkably life-like statue 
 of Laziness. The person approaching was no other than Mr. 
 Sagory St. Julien, the gentlemanly superintendent of the 
 culinary department in Mrs. Stuccuppe's domestic establish- 
 ment. These two gentlemen being in similar positions of 
 trust in the highest circle of the metropolis, of course often 
 met, and, moreover, were upon much the same terms with 
 each other as their mistresses; familiarly intimate and 
 friendly, but sharp-eyed rivals.
 
 188 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Aha !" Mr. "Wilson, said the Stuccuppe retainer. " You 
 have cards out for this evening." 
 
 " Oh ! only a quiet little affair," returned Mr. "Wilson. 
 " Our eldest's wedding, only. There '11 be a few here. Only 
 two dozen baskets of champagne. There '11 be a few partic- 
 ular friends. We should be happy to see you, Sagory. 
 Look in about twelve. They '11 be pretty well along then, in 
 the evening, up-stairs, and we can amuse ourselves. It won't 
 do to have any of that two dozen left over. Eh 1 Will it T' 
 
 With a nod of assent, and a smile of understanding, the 
 gentlemen separated for the time. Mr. Wilson was com- 
 placent in having extended the hospitalities of the occasion 
 to that perfect gentleman, Mr. Sagory St. Julien. The latter 
 was well satisfied to secure so easily what had been his 
 object in happening by ; and promised himself a good time 
 for the evening, and an insight into the Chesslebury econ- 
 omies, which should afford him means of some amusement 
 and much instruction thereafter. 
 
 The wedding of " our eldest," as Wilson somewhat pater- 
 nally described Miss Helen Chesslebury, took place at the 
 church at six, and an hour afterward the family carriages 
 drove up to the family mansion, and the family party flitted 
 up the broad steps, and crossed the family threshold, to the 
 great interest and excitement of so much of the world as hap- 
 pened to be within eye-shot. 
 
 Ten o'clock began to bring company. Then came bustle 
 and business ; noise of wheels and horses' feet, and slamming- 
 carriage doors without. The rustle and rush of entering vis- 
 itors in the hall, and on the stairs within ; running xip stairs 
 and running down. Gentlemen loiter while their ladies
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. ISO 
 
 linger over the last touches in their toilets, in the respective 
 retiring rooms ; and then at concerted signal, enter and are 
 announced. A momentary and partial silence, a general in- 
 spection of the new comers, then the buzz of conversation 
 closes over them, and they are lost in the crowd. 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury is in her glory in all her glory. In a 
 glory twofold exceeding all previous glory. A glory of satin 
 and blonde. A glory of ribbons and laces. A glory of 
 fashion in amplitude of rustling skirts, louder and more inces- 
 sant than ever. A moral glory in heroic triumph over a 
 bodice smaller than the most sanguine dress-maker could 
 have hoped her to wear. A golden glory of pins, chains, 
 bracelets, and a broad sparkling zone, around the impossible 
 bodice. A curious glory of a dress as much too long for 
 convenience at the bottom as it is too short for appearances at 
 the top. And a halo of general and promiscuous and in- 
 describable glory upon her fashionable head, of feathers, laces, 
 costly flowers, and no doubt equally costly curls, composing a 
 crowning glory, which well rewards that head for all its pains. 
 In all this glory the Honorable Mrs. Chesslebury shines and 
 sparkles with redoubled intensity as she receives, and greets, 
 and welcomes, Mrs. Stuccuppe. For she has had the advan- 
 tage of that lady to-night in being able to dress further 
 toward destruction to remain at home, than Mrs. Stuccuppe 
 possibly could, leaving a margin of life and breath to ride to 
 and fro. 
 
 But this is not all. There is another lens which magnifies 
 Mrs. Chesslebury's glory, and which makes her a perfect 
 Fresnel light upon the apex of the social promontory. Mrs. 
 Stuccuppe has not been so fortunate in her daughter.?. The
 
 190 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 eldest has not been married at all, nor seems she like to be ; 
 and the second has recently taken it into her head, the crazy 
 girl, to take tip with a young teacher, a mere schoolmaster, 
 a regular pedagogue, upon our word, with nothing but brains, 
 and those all squandered on children. But, on the other 
 hand, the eldest Miss Chesslebury that was, is to-night Mrs. 
 Livingston Sharstock, and Mr. Livingston Sharstock has 
 every thing but brains of that he has no need ; and Miss 
 Frederica is now Miss Chesslebury. There are three hun- 
 dred people here to-night, headed by Mrs. Stuccuppe herself, 
 to witness the triumph. And so the glory shines. 
 
 And there stands Mrs. Livingston Sharstock, dressed all in 
 white, in spotless and unqualified white, delicate, dazzling, flow- 
 ing white, like an angel, as she undeniably is. One of those 
 angels who run through their career as such before they leave 
 this earth, and are seen no more in that character forever. 
 
 Of the three hundred here, some are real friends, and hero 
 for friendship ; more are curious, and here as spectators ; 
 others rivals, and here only to be envious ; many are foolish, 
 and here as a capital chance to be silly ; and a few young 
 men principally are hungry, and attend because they know 
 that " Lady Chesslebury's oysters and champagne are first- 
 rate." These last perhaps are the most easily and thoroughly 
 satisfied in the course of the evening. 
 
 " I say, Livingston," says Mr. Chesslebury to his son-in-law, 
 with unusual familiarity, as they were in the crowd and crush 
 of the supper-room, and surrounded by the pop and sparkle 
 of Champagne, " I say, have you heard of this most extraor- 
 dinary thing they are doing down in Maine ?" 
 
 " No, rearly, sir, I have not," drawls Mr. Sharstock, who,
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 191 
 
 in fact, lias heard of nothing for some time but his wedding, 
 and does not really understand that phenomenon yet. " ]S"o, 
 rearly, sir, I have not ; where is it, sir ?" 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury bends the professional eye upon one or two 
 around him, to fix their attention and make the conversation 
 more general ; and this is* but a symptom of the confusion of 
 his mind in the confusion of the scene, and surrounded by the 
 pop and sparkle of Champagne. Nevertheless, regardless of 
 the noise of nigh three hundred plates and three hundred 
 spoons and three hundred mouths making merry over three 
 hundred glasses, except to raise his rich and husky voice 
 above the ordinary conversation tone, he proceeded. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said he, " the State of Maine has done a most 
 extraordinary thing. It is a thing which I have no hesitation 
 in saying is quite unparalleled in the history of legislation. 
 They have just passed a law prohibiting the sale of wines or 
 liquors of any kind, under severe penalties ; so that hereafter 
 there is nothing to be drank in Maine except cold water and 
 warm water. Yes," reiterated he, swaying gently in an ora- 
 torical style as he spoke, " a most extraordinary thing." 
 
 " Why, ridiculous, rearly !" 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Mr. Chesslebury ; " at the instigation of 
 some fanatical fellow, they have actually passed a law which 
 is to put an end to all drinking." 
 
 " 'T would be a joke if they should keep it," replied Mr. 
 Sharstock, filling his glass again, and laughing at the idea of 
 such a joke. 
 
 " Most undoubtedly," continued the first speaker, " it is an 
 unconstitutional law, and can not stand the ordeal of judicial 
 test. But I have no doubt there are people so mad with
 
 192 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 these ideas of temperance as to think a similar law will be 
 passed here." 
 
 The family physician, Dr. Newsham, was, as it happened, 
 standing at the other side of the table, and just opposite his 
 patron, at this juncture of the conversation, and it so hap- 
 pened that he, being interested painfully interested, of course 
 in all the symptoms of any of the ills of which flesh and 
 blood are residuary legatees, was just observing a heightened 
 color in Mr. Chesslebury's nose, and being at a little distance, 
 was putting on his spectacles to examine more closely the 
 little red ramifications which formed a net-work over it like 
 the veins upon one of his own anatomical preparations. 
 
 " Now, Doctor," said Mr. Chesslebury, catching his gaze as 
 an index of attention to the conversation, and turning toward 
 him as he spoke the very point under the Doctors examina- 
 tion, " now Doctor, look at it ; look at it." 
 
 The Doctor certainly was looking at it. 
 
 "What is to be done, sir," continued Mr. Chesslebury, 
 " when such laws are enacted ? They are sumptuary. They 
 are sumptuary laws, sir. Laws which attempt to direct our 
 eating and prescribe our drinking, and, by ^natural conse- 
 quence, to regulate our digestion, which can not be." 
 
 " Why, no," assented the Doctor. 
 
 -" Certain! j not ! How can it be ! How are laws going to 
 regulate digestion ?" 
 
 " 'T would be ar joke if they could," drawled Mr. Sharstock, 
 who would have rather liked the idea if some gentle legisla- 
 tion could have been substituted for his daily dinner pill. 
 
 " Certainly," said the physician, " that law seems uncon- 
 stitutional."
 
 CONK CUT CORNERS. 193 
 
 '' I think not, sir," said a young man who stood near, and 
 had listened with some interest in silence hitherto. " Have 
 you read the Maine law ?" This question was politely put to 
 Mr. Chesslebury. 
 
 " No" confessed that gentleman. 
 
 " It has been held repeatedly," said the young man, with a 
 modest but confident air, " that a State has the right, under the 
 constitution, to regulate, and, if it sees fit, to prohibit, a traffic 
 within its own borders, which is injurious to public welfare." 
 
 " Xo, sir," said Mr. Chesslebury, recovering from his astonish- 
 ment at finding there was a fanatic in his family mansion, " no, 
 sir, I have got the documents. You can have a restraining 
 law, but you can not have a prohibitory law. You can not have 
 a prohibitory law, sir ! I have the documents myself, sir." 
 
 " On the contrary," returned the young man, " we can, and do 
 have prohibitory laws. The general government itself has en- 
 acted, and is enforcing such. There have long existed laws pro- 
 hibiting the traffic in ardent spirits among the Indians in our 
 western territories, and no one has pretended they were un- 
 constitutional." 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury expressed the idea that what might be 
 perfectly constitutional for the Indians, might be quite tyran- 
 nical for civilized citizens. For he considered that the spirit 
 of our territorial institutions rightfully regarded savages as a 
 set of poor devils, with no rights, except the right to keep out 
 of the way of the settlers as well as they could. Therefore 
 legislation for them went on very different principles from leg- 
 islation for freemen. 
 
 Dr. Xewsham listened to this discussion with much interest. 
 For the Doctor was one of those eminent practitioners who 
 9
 
 * 194 COJNE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 adorn the profession and oblige their patients, by freely com- 
 mending the poison in the evening when they know they will 
 be paid for the antidote in the morning. Thus they delight 
 in the golden eggs of illness which folly lays in the nest of in- 
 temperate luxury ; but too often fulfill the old fable, and kill 
 the bird in too much haste. 
 
 Therefore Dr. Newsham watched the progress of the gen- 
 tlemen with some interest in the result. 
 
 Thus professionally attentive to slight indications, he mis- 
 took the wandering gesture of the arm which enforced the 
 sentiment of Mr. Chesslebury's last sentence, for a point at a 
 decanter of the old South Side Madeira of eighteen-twenty 
 from the respectable dealers. 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said Mr. Chesslebury, allowing the 
 physician to prescribe for him another glass, and bowing 
 a health to him as he took it. " Now," he continued, hold- 
 ing up the glass half emptied, "that is rare old South 
 Side Madeira, of the year eighteen-twenty. That is pure 
 and innocent. I had that imported myself. Bagglehall & 
 Floric got it for me. That has been once to the East Indies 
 on a sea voyage for the benefit of its health, Doctor," contin- 
 ued the blissfully ignorant Mr. Chesslebury, " which is better 
 than being drugged at home, is it not, eh ? Ha ! ha ! That 's 
 exactly what Floric said to me when it came. Now suppose 
 you pass such laws. Here are the respectable dealers like 
 Bagglehall 'n Floric ; don't you see you '11 ruin them at once. 
 Of course there are classes of dealers any one would be glad 
 to see shut up. These low places, resorted to by poor people ; 
 three cents a glass ; and such wretched manufacshured stuff 
 too ; but then this pr'ibitory law treats us all alike. You sec
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 195 
 
 its unconsi-hootional unconsi-hootional. It treats us all alike. 
 It makes no dishincshuns. It 's unconsi-hootional." 
 
 " But," said the physician, " I suppose some such law would 
 put a stop to a good deal of public intemperance T' 
 
 "Never, sir," returned the host. "Mor'l means are the 
 only ones to effect a mor'l reform." 
 
 " Besides," interposed Mr. Livingston Sharstock, " it would 
 be a joke if it did. Because the sight of one of those drunken 
 wretches once in a while has a very good effect upon people 
 who are inclined that way, I dare say. Indeed, I Ve often seen 
 them when going through the street and a good many little 
 boys running after them ; and it must have a very salutary 
 effect very salutary, indeed, to have these people see what 
 they will come to if they do drink at these low groggeries." 
 
 All this among the great noise of the three hundred plates, 
 and three hundred spoons, and three hundred mouths, making 
 merry over three hundred glasses, and more pop and more 
 sparkle, clattering and clinking of Avares, shouts of mirth and 
 delightful screams of feminine laughter at wine-prompted wit. 
 
 This swelling tumult of hilarity reached the ears of the gen- 
 tlemanly Sagory St. Julien, who was let in at the area door 
 at about midnight, and while he awaited Mr. Wilson, he was 
 filled with pleasure by the sound. Mr. Wilson himself, above 
 stairs, finding that the company were enjoying themselves so 
 well as to be unconscious of his absence, deserted the post of 
 his duty, and withdrew to the basement, where, in company 
 congenial, he imitated the example of his illustrious prototype. 
 and scattered more corks upon the floor than he would have 
 cared to pick up next mornino-. 
 
 Mi'. Che.sslelmry, still in the crowd and crush of (he supper-
 
 196 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 room, holding his place manfully amidst the sway of the 
 fashionable multitude, and standing well to his post against 
 the onset of ranks of ladies and files of young gentlemen, who 
 make a charge through the crowd with the hope of getting to 
 the door and going out to commence the labors of the evening 
 in the ball-room maintaining his ground thus amid more pop 
 and more sparkle, more merriment and more jingling than 
 ever, Mr. Chesslebury continued his discussion of the distinc- 
 tions between restraining laws and prohibitory laws, and be- 
 tween respectable dealers and low dealers, until gradually the 
 debate, growing wandering, took the form of practical defiance 
 both to the principles of prohibition and the weight of moral 
 considerations, by the pouring down, in rapid succession, of a 
 great many glasses of divers liquors. 
 
 " Here, Livingston, my son," commenced Mr. Chesslebury, 
 with a smile of strange sweetness and affectionate sentiment, 
 as the group were gradually left nearly alone in the supper- 
 room by the withdrawing crowds, " come, lem-me f-fill your 
 
 " I thank you, sir," returned that gentleman, with a steadi- 
 ness which would be thought very creditable by one who did 
 not understand how he had the advantage of more intellectual 
 people, in that he had very little head to be affected by the 
 innocent social glass. " I thank you, sir." 
 
 The Doctor volunteered to fill their glasses. There was 
 social pleasure expressed in his obedient features, but unde- 
 niable professional interest and anticipations peeping from 
 each eye. He filled the glasses, and he filled them high. 
 
 "Here's to your health, Mr. Chesslebury, and our better 
 acquaintance as father and son. Here 's to your health."
 
 CONE CTT CORNERS. 197 
 
 Catch lions' cubs and play with them for kittens. Dig pit- 
 falls and say they are resting-places. Raise whirlwinds and 
 call them music. Earthquakes and say they are but dances. 
 But do not drink poison and call it drinking health. 
 
 " Your health," repeated Mr. Sharstock, raising his glass. 
 
 He wonders to see his father's does not rise. He lifts his 
 eyes from the hand which holds it so stiffly. He is struck 
 with a strange astonishment. Mr. Chesslebury is gazing fix- 
 edly toward the door. Does some unexpected messenger 
 beckon him away ? The son looks around. He sees no one 
 there. The stiffened arm for a moment relaxes. A tremor 
 in the hand spills the red wine. It falls dripping to the car- 
 pet. The Doctor has scarcely time to cry out and start for- 
 ward, when the tottering form before him grows stiff and 
 rigid, and leaning slowly backward falls heavily upon the floor. 
 
 No more drinking of his health now. 
 
 No better acquaintance with him now. 
 
 Then a cry for water and pillows a rush of people a 
 crowd and crush of visitors standing over their fallen host in 
 murmuring consternation. Then a cry for air, and room for 
 him to breathe, and silence, lest he be disturbed. Little use 
 are these. No need has he now of air or room ; water is now 
 too late, and silence ah ! that is his forever. 
 
 A sudden stopping of music above stairs ; an abrupt ces- 
 sation of dancing and laughter ; much terrified whispering ; 
 long-drawn exclamations ; mutual gazes of silent terror. 
 Then clandestine withdrawals in rapid succession. All those 
 addicted to good living, but not too far gone in pleasure to- 
 night to think of good dying, hurry away as if fearful lest the 
 penalties' of nature should be infectious. Then tlie fashionable
 
 198 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 rival, who has been goaded by envy at her hostess' brilliant 
 glory all the evening, lingers to steal a few moments' secret 
 and solemn triumph in her sudden calamity. Then Mrs. Ches- 
 slebmjj more in the keenness of chagrin and bewilderment 
 than in the agony of a yet unweighed affliction, rushes up and 
 down insanely ; and calling for help ! help ! finds Wilson 
 the gentlemanly-dressed the unexceptionably-mannered Wil- 
 son together with Sagory St. Julien, in a state of disheveled 
 idiocy below stairs. 
 
 The catastrophe once fully known, the house becomes 
 rapidly deserted. But its insensible host still lies upon the 
 floor where he fell. His position has been, with pillows 
 and cushions, ameliorated, if indeed earthly conditions may 
 be bettered to him now ; and the family physician paces the 
 room, while in great anxiety he awaits the result of his 
 remedies, and hopes in vain for signals of some remaining life. 
 
 Mrs. Chesslebury, her glory disarranged, disordered, and 
 forgotten, sits half upon a chair accidentally convenient by the 
 table, and makes with her elbow a resting-place amid its rich 
 and wasted confusion. Her head, throbbing with conster- 
 nation, rests upon her hand, and she looks vacantly with hot, 
 dry eyes at her husband out-stretched before her. 
 
 The gray eye of morning, peering through the curtains, 
 falls upon this scene ; and it opens wide and shining, with 
 amazement, as it gazes upon the strange disorder, and stranger 
 dismay in the Chesslebury mansion, and the comfortless 
 couch, and the breathless slumber of its occupant, strangest 
 of all.
 
 XVIII. 
 
 OCTOBER, 1651. 
 
 THE day which thus 
 dawned upon the fam- 
 ily mansion wore slow- 
 ly away, and at last 
 Night came forth, and 
 
 standing, like a policeman on duty, with a thousand stars on 
 his blue breast, gradually raised the new moon for a dark- 
 lautern, and through the trees of the neighboring part cast a, 
 ray of light upon the door-steps. This ray, at ten o'clock 
 or thereabouts, served to illumine the footsteps of no other 
 than Paul Rundle, who, after skipping briskly up the steps, 
 hesitated a moment, and then rung the bell. 
 
 Paul had just finished a hard day's work at the store of the 
 respectable dealers, and hastening home, heard vague news of 
 the sudden death of Mr. Chesslebury.
 
 200 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Paul, ray son," said his mother, who had sat up for him. 
 " Paul, Jason is away, and they have no one thSre but serv- 
 ants. I think you had better go round, and see if you can 
 do any thing. Some one must sit up to watch, and I think 
 you would be very useful." 
 
 Paul's mind had long been balanced between an ill-defined 
 apprehension upon the one hand, that his father had owed 
 some of his embarrassments to Mr. Chesslebury's assistance, 
 and upon the other hand, an equally vague sense of gratitude 
 at the very handsome words subsequently used by that gentle- 
 man to him. He was pretty sure he owed some kind of debt 
 to the estate of the deceased ; but he was by no means clear 
 on which account it was, or whether it ought to be paid in 
 gratitude or indignation. 
 
 " My son," said his mother again, as he made no reply, but 
 sat revolving these half-formed thoughts. " I suppose you are 
 very tired ; but I know they need you, and I think they 
 would take it very kindly, too." 
 
 His mother's recommendation turned the scale ; and he ac- 
 cordingly put on his hat again, bade her and Susie good night, 
 and hastened off. 
 
 With low-toned voices and much whispering he was 
 received. The gentlemanly-dressed Wilson with eyes swollen 
 and heavy, as Paul thought, with grief, waited upon him in 
 the hall to learn his errand. Paul inquired for Mrs. Chessle- 
 bury. 
 
 " Oh !" said that domestic. " It 's no use ; you can't see 
 her. She 's so terribly stewed up that Dr. Newsham says 
 she must n't see any body ; he won't answer for the conse- 
 quences to her brains."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 201 
 
 " Dear me !" said Paul, quite impressed with Mr. Wilson's 
 idea of grief. 
 
 " Besides," continued the domestic, " she 's very busy order- 
 ing her mourning. She 's got Mam'sell Flounce, the milliner 
 up stairs, and it 's impossible to see her. She 's getting ready 
 for the funeral." 
 
 Paul hesitated, half inclined to go away, but upon second 
 thought he made known his offer, and was graciously bid into 
 the back parlor. There, alone, he awaited the servant's re- 
 turn, who soon came bearing Mrs. Chesslebury's acceptance 
 of the proffered service. Wilson left this message, and then 
 went out, saying he would bring Mr. Bundle a glass of wine. 
 
 " We 've got some prime old Madeira," said he ; " it 's thirty 
 years olds" 
 
 fl No matter about it," interrupted Paul, calling after him; "I 
 don't want any." 
 
 But Wilson was gone. 
 
 " The very stuff that Hococks made I do believe," exclaimed 
 Paul, slapping one hand with the other in a gesture of as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 With this pleasant surprise in mind, he threw himself into the 
 many-jointed easy-chair. It stretched itself to accommodate 
 his form, carrying his head gently back, and lifting his feet 
 from the floor ; and thus Paul settled into a position of perfect 
 comfort. 
 
 " Oh !" said he, with a long-drawn breath of satisfaction. 
 " This is great. I wish I had such a chair as this. I Ve seen 
 them in the store windows. I never knew they were so near 
 alive as to move of 'emselves." 
 
 Then came a little battle between Curiosity, wishing to see 
 9*
 
 202 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 how the chair was made, and Sleepiness, insisting on sitting 
 still. Sleepiness got the best of it, and Curiosity gave in. 
 The result was a treaty of peace, conditioned that Curiosity 
 might ask any number of questions, but Sleepiness should not 
 be disturbed to answer them. 
 
 So Curiosity asked what such a chair would cost, and Sleep- 
 iness winked a great many times with no thought of making 
 an estimate. Then Curiosity asked what they would do with 
 it now Mr. Chesslebury was dead, and Sleepiness shut eyes to 
 remember just how Mr. Chesslebury looked when he was alive. 
 And then Paul wondered what was the matter with Mr. Ches- 
 slebury, if it was really the apoplexy, and he wondered 
 whether, in case he should ever become rich and own such a 
 house, he should eat and drink so much and do soJittle as to 
 die of it, just as a steam-engine well fed with water and fire, 
 but lying idle, would grow red, and full, and burst ; and then 
 he thought about the fire under the boilers, and how the coals 
 glowed desperately in the furnaces, and how angrily they 
 snapped and growled when fresh coals were cast in, and he 
 wondered whether South Side Madeira had any thing to do 
 with it, and what would be done with what was left over, and 
 then he wondered without wondering about any thing in par- 
 ticular ; and then he heard a sound as of a faint sob coming 
 from up stairs, and noises as of footsteps to and fro upon the 
 floor above him, and he saw Mrs. Chesslebury in her room 
 walking in funeral procession all alone and crying, and it 
 seemed very strange that she should ever cry ; and he won- 
 dered if she would think any thing about his coming round, 
 and whether mother would be invited to the funeral ; and then 
 he wondered if mother was lying awake, thinking with tears
 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 of father, as she often did, and then he beckoned to father to 
 come home to dinner, and father said he was coming, but he 
 did n't come, and they sat up for him till they all fell asleep ; 
 and then he wondered what Susie was dreaming about that 
 made her smile so, and if he could kiss her without awaking 
 her, and then, just as he was going to try, Jason's voice 
 called him, and he went out to find Jason, and Jason wanted 
 some white kid gloves for a party, and Paul handed down 
 black, and Jason asked with a laugh, if he supposed he were 
 going to a funeral, and Paul said " Yes," and Jason, who had 
 just come into town, was astonished and said, " Whose ?" and 
 Paul tried to tell him gradually, so that he should not know 
 all at once, and he began by taking Jason down stairs 
 into the cellar, and there he showed him how to make old 
 South Side Madeira, and just then Mr. Hococks came down 
 with Mr. Floric, bringing something long and heavy upon 
 a shutter, and Mr. Bagglehall came after them with an ac- 
 count-book and an inkstand, and they put the shutter across 
 two old brandy-casks and pulled the horse-blanket off it, 
 and there was Mr. Chesslebury's body ; he was not quite 
 dead yet, for lie turned his head over ; and Jason fainted 
 away, and Paul himself could not stir to do any thing, for he 
 was tied hand and foot, and when he tried to scream, Mr. 
 Floric laughed and thrust a little roll of bills into Paul's 
 mouth, and quite choked him, and then when Paul was look- 
 ing on, they stripped up their sleeves and rolled up their 
 pantaloons so high, and developed such thin black limbs, 
 that they became like immense shadows of the spiders which 
 hung from the beams over head, and then dancing triumph- 
 antly, but in silence, like imps and specters, they disrobed
 
 204 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Mr. Chesslebury and pulled him to pieces, and dancing all 
 the while, but still with no dream of music, they examined 
 each piece, and Mr. Bagglehall set them all down in his book 
 opposite Mr. Chesslebury's account there, and Dr. Newsham 
 was among the other spider shadows, and he wore a new 
 hat with narrow crape, paid for, he said, out of his last fee ; 
 and he made an estimate of how much the body was worth 
 for a " subject," and how much each piece, each organ, muscle, 
 membrane, nerve, bone and tissue were damaged by moderate 
 drinking, and they found a considerable injury to every one, 
 so that there was a good deal to be deducted from the value 
 of " the subject" on account of the trade of the respectable 
 dealers, and all these deductions were footed up together, with 
 a commission upon the amount of Dr. Kewsham's spirituous 
 prescriptions, which had been put up by the respectable deal- 
 ers, and the total amount was passed to the credit of the Doc- 
 tor, who said he would take it in some of that old South Side, 
 if they had any of that importation left, and would let him 
 have it at trade price ; and then Mr. Bagglehall balanced the 
 Chesslebury account, and announced the net gain, which he 
 carried to Profit <fc Loss, and drew a black line across the 
 page ; and the result brought a few dollars to Dr. Newsham, 
 a few hundreds to the respectable dealers, and made Mr. 
 Chesslebury a total loss; and this was so satisfactory, that 
 they danced more, and drew liquor from the casks, and broke 
 necks of bottles to get at it ; and just then "Wilson came after 
 Mr. Chesslebury, but not in time to prevent Dr. Newsham 
 from bundling up the pieces in Mr. Hocook's apron, which 
 stretched amazingly for the purpose, and the Doctor ran away 
 with the bundle on his back, crying, " Come ! bundle, come !"
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 205 
 
 and Wilson gave up the chase, and drew himself a glass of 
 wine, and another for Paul, and came to him and said : " Will 
 you have a glass of wine ?" 
 
 " What r said Paul. 
 
 " Come, Bundle, come !" repeated Wilson, laying a hand 
 upon his shoulder, " will you have a glass of wine ? You 've 
 been asleep." 
 
 " H'm," muttered Paul, waking to a sense of being called 
 on to say something, but not certain what. 
 
 " Come, Mr. Bundle," said Mr. Wilson, evincing a perma- 
 nent confusion of mind as to Paul's proper cognomen, " come, 
 perhaps you will like a bite of something." And he placed a 
 cake-basket and a decanter and glasses upon a slight table 
 " This is Madeira" 
 
 "Ah?" 
 
 " Yes," said the servant, condescending to be confidential, 
 " It 's prime old South Side Madeira " 
 
 " Is it ?" said Paul. 
 
 " that was made in 1820," continued Mr. Wilson, waxing 
 communicative and familiar. " It 's been to the East Indies 
 and back, and it 's stood in bottles ten years. That 's the 
 best there is any where. Try a little, won't you." 
 
 Although this recommendation produced no effect, Mr. 
 Wilson was very loth to depart without an opportunity to 
 discuss the contents of the decanter ; but at last he went, and 
 Paul was left alone. 
 
 Paul thought that a book might be an assistance to him in 
 keeping awake. So he opened the glass doors of a rich ma- 
 hogany book-case which stood against the wall in the back 
 parlor, in search of a volume to read.
 
 206 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 He passed by the novels, of which there were a great num- 
 ber in the book-case, as being inappropriate to the present 
 occasion ; and the learned treatises, of which there were two 
 or three elegantly bound, and with leaves yet uncut, as being 
 uninteresting; and the books in the French language, of 
 which there were a number, as being unintelligible to him 
 without a dictionary ; and the Latin classics, of which there 
 was what purported to be a complete set, as being unintel- 
 ligible, even with one. He passed them all by, and selected 
 an old fashioned copy of YOUNG'S NIGHT THOUGHTS, as being 
 just the book to doze over. He took it down, and returned 
 with it to his chair, where he propped it upon his knees and 
 began to read. 
 
 The noise of evening carriages upon the avenue died away. 
 The last gay passing group carried the sounds of their foot- 
 steps and their voices into the distance. The echoes of busy 
 day, which since sunset lost their way and wandered with 
 fainter and fainter strength through the reverberating streets, 
 sunk exhausted into silence and repose. The great fire-bell, 
 whose sudden alarm startled Paul, and for a short time awoke 
 again the noises of the street, ceased at last its terrible trem- 
 bling tones, and all was still again. 
 
 They are all asleep at last throughout the family mansion, 
 and Paul sits guarding the repose of him who can never be 
 disturbed again. 
 
 He lies in the front parlor. When Paul goes in to pay a 
 solemn visit, it is not through the folding-doors which slide 
 with ponderous noise ; but around through the hall and on 
 tiptoe. 
 
 It is very silent there. The misty atmosphere of the room
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 207 
 
 is half illumined by a feeble flame hovering precariously upon 
 a finger of the many-armed chandelier ; a famished butterfly 
 upon fictitious flowers. The shutters are closed, the curtains 
 are loosed and hang drooping in heavy folds to the floor. 
 The rich furniture which fills the parlor, stands back with 
 reverence to make room for him. The marble center-table 
 is moved to one side. The sofas have retreated against the 
 wall. The piano is closed ; the music-books have been piled 
 away beneath it. The paintings which cover the walls are 
 hung in crape. There is no fire, and the black grate-screen 
 reflects solemnly upon the scene. The dark shadow of mor- 
 tality is cast over the elegance of the parlor and its equipments. 
 
 But the richest of all the rich furniture is that which stands 
 in the middle of the room. No article of ornament or of 
 luxury here is so costly so elegant as that. Of all the 
 rosewood here, none is so rich, so beautiful as that. There is 
 no polish so perfect : no color so delicate. No silver so pure 
 as the plate upon the door of that last home ; none so pro- 
 fuse as that which nails him in. No satins adorning in fash- 
 ionable glory the fair forms which filled this room last night, 
 could surpass that which now arrays his form. Nor were the 
 garments of the gay more true to their transient fashions, 
 than are the garments he wears, to that ancient fashion 
 the only fashion which never changes which we must all 
 assume at 'last. 
 
 " Oh, ho !" sighed the young man, " Where is my father, I 
 wonder. He surely must be Oh dear ! It is above three 
 years he 's been away, and no word yet. Perhaps it 's better 
 so. But I would almost rather he were dead, like him, than 
 gone dishonorably, and leaving us disgrace."
 
 208 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Paul raises the stiff vail which lies above the pale counte- 
 nance before him. The body is composed in the inflexible 
 posture of death. The face is turned toward Heaven ; the 
 eyes are forever closed on all things earthly. 
 
 " No," said Paul, softly, " No. There is hope yet. My 
 father may come back. It is better as it is, for there is some 
 hope yet." 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 XIX. 
 
 OCTOBEE, 1851. 
 
 MORNING broke early 
 upon the ocean, and 
 thence fresh from its bath, 
 running hither over the 
 
 eastern country, lingered a little in the fields and on the hills 
 before it came into town. Waking first its favorites, the 
 flowers and the birds, and then its friends, the farmers, and all 
 sensible country-folk, it spent a merry hour or so with them. 
 It came forth from ambuscades behind the hills, to surprise 
 early reapers ; it gallantly greeted milkmaids coming out upon 
 their morning errand, and laughed with the bright-eyed 
 children who were making nosegays in the morning dew ; it 
 peered in at chamber-windows, and on the walls painted 
 bright monochromatic pictures in a color, not in the black- 
 ness of art and out of doors again it played at hide-and-go- 
 seek with its own long shadows through the forests, until at 
 last, it settled down into a steady, permanent, fulkgloried day, 
 and went into town to devote itself to business. It traveled 
 thither on swift wings, overtaking and passing the Cone Cut
 
 210 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 stage, which was creeping over the hills toward the nearest 
 railway-station to meet the early train, and as it passed, it 
 smiled upon Jason, who sat on the top ; and as it glanced in 
 his face, he took off his crape-banded cap to cool his forehead 
 in the fresh air, and he looked so sad that the merry mom- 
 ing did not much care for him, and he did not at all care for 
 the morning ; so, flying on, it reached the city by the spires, 
 and came down into it, like Santa Claus, by the chimneys. 
 
 Paul, long watching for it at the open window that over- 
 looked the little stone-embroidered piece of ground which the 
 Chesslebury mansion called its garden, was as glad as any 
 one to see it. Standing there, he listened for the signs of lite it 
 might awaken above him. At last he heard a slip-shod step 
 come down the stairs and shuffle through the hall. He lost no 
 time in calling the servant back, who proved to be Wilson. 
 Reporting to him that every thing was safe, Paul requested to 
 be let out. Declining an invitation to wait four or five hours 
 more to participate in the Chesslebury breakfast, he bade the 
 mansion, in the person of Wilson, good morning, and went 
 away. 
 
 Mr. Wilson thereupon went out to his morning's amuse- 
 ment, with the jet of Croton, on the sidewalk, where he 
 disported himself for some time as an imp of the fountain. 
 For to-morrow was to be the funeral, and the blinds must be 
 very dustless, and the area fence an unexceptionable black, 
 and the windows of a glossy brightness, and every thing must 
 be of an elegance unusual even for the Chesslebury mansion. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Livingston Sharstock were utterly crushed by 
 the death of their father. Of course the wedding tour must 
 be begun in a close carriage in the van of the funeral proces-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 211 
 
 sion, and they must, for a time, at least, enjoy such resources 
 as they had, in retirement from the promiscuous gaiety of the 
 best society ; and this prospect made the honeymoon intoler- 
 able. The best society recoiled from them in their supposed 
 affliction, and left them alone. 
 
 Whether it did this out of compassion, which we should not 
 expect, or out of natural antipathy to any one who should en- 
 joy the pleasures of a well-endured and rightly cherished 
 grief, or whether it did it out of custom and in accordance 
 with the latest style of fashion, Mr. and Mrs. Sharstock did not 
 inquire ; but they were so completely overwhelmed at the 
 prospect of having to make the most of each other's society 
 for a time, and so aghast at the idea that Helen could not 
 wear colors, and that Livingston must wear crape, that they 
 were quite broken down, and totally unfitted by grief, as Mrs. 
 Chesslebury said, for any care or supervision of the necessary 
 solemnities. 
 
 So well, however, did Mrs. Chesslebury school her deeper 
 feelings, that she showed, by exertions overpowering sorrow, 
 what a tribute she wished to pay to departed worth. She 
 penned the brief and suggestive announcement, " Died sud- 
 denly at his residence." She supervised all the arrangements, 
 and planned the details of the ceremony by clandestine orders 
 from her retirement. 
 
 She sent for Mr. Stretch, who came with a long face and his 
 hand in a black glove, and not long after, went away with a 
 short face and his hand in his pocket, and took an omnibus 
 for Nassau street, and spent the afternoon in brief interviews 
 with busy editors in dirty third-story rooms, and next morn- 
 ing reported himself again at the Chesslebury mansion, with
 
 212 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 all the morning papers ; in each of which he had marked for 
 Mrs. Chesslebury the printed grief of all the journalists in 
 town, that their fellow-citizen had fallen; and one or two 
 long articles there were on pedigree, public life and private 
 virtues, for which Mr. Stretch was particularly commended. 
 
 It was her foresight which provided linen by the piece for 
 the officiating clergyman and family physician, and gloves by 
 the box, sufficient to furnish an extra pair to the mourners at 
 large. 
 
 She employed the most fashionable undertaker in town, 
 and her instructions to him being very brief and comprehen- 
 sive, to wit : " to do it in the best style," he exerted himself 
 to the utmost, and outshone all his previous triumphs in that 
 line. All the minutiae of the pageant, as well as all the 
 grander details of his bill, were left entirely to his solemn 
 discretion ; and having come at the first interview very read- 
 ily to an understanding with Mrs. Chesslebury, on the subject 
 of style, he found her to be a mourner after his own heart, 
 and had the details of both the ceremony and the account all 
 his own way. It was she, too, who catalogued the friends of 
 the family who were invited to attend ; and so liberal was her 
 heart then, and so unusual her friendship, that the undertaker 
 rejoiced when he saw the list ; and on the day, Mr. Floric, in 
 his shop door, after counting sixty carriages following the 
 plumed hearse in the street, and seeing now upon the side- 
 walk behind, a long supplementary procession of pedestrian 
 mourners, said that was the largest funeral he ever saw, and 
 stepped out and asked the pedestrian mourners whose funeral 
 it was ; and some of them stared as they passed, and two or 
 three laughed and said they did not know, and they all went
 
 CONE CUT CORNKBS. 213 
 
 by, keeping step and following their estimable fellow-citizen, 
 as far as they could in body, without thinking of him at 
 all at heart. 
 
 A few weeks afterward, Mrs. Chesslebury met her old friend 
 Mrs. Stuccuppe, who, with much solemnity, condoled with 
 her, remarking, as if it were some faint consolation, that the 
 funeral was very impressive. 
 
 " Yes ?" said Mrs. Chesslebury, speaking inquiringly from 
 behind a pocket handkerchief with a deep black border around 
 it so deep that it might more properly be described as a 
 black handkerchief with a white square in the middle of it. 
 " Yes ! do you think so ? I am very glad ; I thought every 
 thing went off well. It Avas estimated that we had had nearly 
 five hundred persons present It was a great deal more than 
 we could have expected ; for the weather looked so doubtful 
 that I did not think there could be really any body expected. 
 But there were nearly five hundred; there were sixty car- 
 riages went to the cemetery." 
 
 " Yes," added Mrs. Stuccuppe, with sympathy, " and only 
 seventeen of them empty." 
 
 " Did you see the hearse ?" asked Mrs. Chesslebury. 
 
 " Yes, I saw it from the window," answered Mrs. Stuccuppe. 
 
 " What did you think of the idea ? four horses with black 
 blankets on, and plumes in their head-dresses, and a postillion 
 iu black, with a white neckcloth." 
 
 " I thought it was very impressive," assented Mrs. Stuc- 
 cuppe, " very much so indeed." 
 
 " Mr. Graves got up all the arrangements for us, you know," 
 concluded Mrs. Chesslebury, " and he said it was the hand- 
 somest private affair he had ever had any connection with/'
 
 214 CONE CUT CORN E US. 
 
 These consolations, and others of various natures, but all 
 with a like success, ministered balm to the wounded spirit of 
 the widow ; and the calmness and self-possession of her mind 
 was preserved, and the elegant fascinations of her dress and 
 manners, were perhaps increased, while in the sable glory of 
 mourning, she exhibited the signals of her bereavement 
 through the full appointed time of sorrow. 
 
 As soon as the Chesslebury family begun to recover from 
 the shock which it had suffered by its sudden decapitation, it 
 came into new perplexity in respect to the settling of the 
 Chesslebury estate, which proved to be one of those estates 
 that, being very muddy, are settled with much difficulty, and 
 only in the lapse of time. 
 
 It was not easy to see clearly of what the Chesslebury estate 
 consisted. 
 
 There was the family mansion, a handsome property in it- 
 self; but the Chessleburyan papers indicated that its late 
 owner had entertained some secret misgivings as to the state 
 of the title. 
 
 There was a policy of life insurance in a sum that was a 
 fortune in itself; but it was the policy of a Chessleburyan 
 company, which, having received all acquirable premiums 
 through the aid of a considerable flourish of trumpets at the 
 outset, had been very shortly afterward conveniently dis- 
 solved, to save the payment of losses ; and was rightfully con- 
 sidered as having been successfully managed, since it divided 
 so handsomely at its dissolution. 
 
 There was the great case of Pockitt vs. Pierce, which had 
 been in the office ever since creation so said Mr. Stretch and 
 in which Mr. Chesslebury had a depending interest of twenty
 
 CONE CUT COKNERS. 215 
 
 thousand out of fifty thousand dollars, together with costs ; 
 he having originally bought into the claim to prosecute it on 
 speculation. The cause being now as it appeared from Mr. 
 Stretch's voluble statement : " In the Supreme Court in equity, 
 late before the Chancellor, on a decretal order that the de- 
 cretal order of the 17th January, 1850, modifying the decretal 
 order of the 12th November, 1848, modifying the decretal 
 order of the 27th May, 1845, be so far modified that the de- 
 fendant Kortright go on to sell until the further order of the 
 court" ; the case was naturally a matter of some difficulty of 
 investigation, to say nothing of uncertainty of profit. 
 
 Then there was the Jenkins' estate claim, in which it ap- 
 peared that by conjecture supported by a lack of any evidence 
 to the contrary, there was reason to believe that untold mil- 
 lions in the Bank of England, composing in fact an actual and 
 respectable fraction of the specie deposits currently reported 
 by that institution to be in its vaults, were unclaimed divi- 
 dends belonging of right to the heirs and next of kin of Peter 
 Bopp and Lady Jane Bopp, who died according to legend in 
 1694. And the problem in the Jenkins' estate claim was to 
 establish by town records, tomb-stones, affidavits, and the 
 traditions of grandmothers, that the numerous and scattered 
 family of Jenkins in America were lineal descendants of Peter 
 and Lady Jane Bopp. This problem, it appeared, had been un- 
 der the professional consideration of Mr. Chesslebury, upon the 
 basis of making the claim a stock called the Jenkins' Unclaim- 
 ed Dividend Stock, to Mr. Chesslebury's expenses in prosecut- 
 ing which, all inducible fools, Jenkins or otherwise, had con- 
 tibuted the sums set opposite their respective names ; it being 
 covenanted and agreed that the proceeds recovered should be
 
 216 COSE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 divided among the subscribers pro raid, after paying to the 
 counsel, viz., Mr. Chesslebury, a commission of fifty per cent. 
 Whether this was a bonus likely to accrue to the estate did 
 not at first appear, until a memorandum of report to the stock- 
 holders was found, from which it was to be inferred, that the 
 Bank of England was found to be an oyster, and that English 
 tomb-stones of 1694, turned out to be mostly illegible. 
 
 There was an interest of nine seventeenths in the Grand 
 Palava Cinnebar Mines in Mexico, which apparently had been 
 very profitable ; indeed, so much so, that the paternal atten- 
 tion of the Mexican Government had been attracted to the 
 same, and its fostering care being inteqwsed between it and its 
 American proprietors, the incomes had been diminished ; and 
 under these circumstances the whole affair was at present 
 shrouded in an almost impenetrable cloud of correspondence. 
 
 There was also a share of one undivided fourth part of the 
 patent of Mr. Weismann, of Weismann and Sillibuoy, civil 
 engineers, for making carpets and cloths out of copper wire, 
 and finer textures and laces out of threads of annealed glass. 
 
 There was an endless catalogue of sections, half sections, 
 quarter sections, and North-west quarters of South-east quar- 
 ters of sections of townships and ranges, North and South, 
 East and West, in the great Bunkum Reserve, in Indiana. 
 
 There was a large interest in an insolvent iron foundry com- 
 pany of Pennsylvania, 
 
 There was a complicated conglomeration of conveyances in 
 the matter of the estate of Carrol Plumnie, deceased, from 
 which papers nothing appeared very clearly except that Car- 
 rol Plumnie, surviving, was father-in-law to Mr. Chesslebury, 
 but so far from ending that relation with his mortal existence,
 
 CONE CUT C O U N E It S . 217 
 
 ns is usually considered to be the case, Carrol Plumine, de- 
 ceased, intestate, grew still farther and farther in law to that 
 gentleman after death. These papers seemed to touch the 
 title of Virginian estates, but where they touched it, or whither 
 they carried it, or how they left it there, was not so easily de- 
 termined. 
 
 There was no end to the list of these and the like snug 
 little investments. It might be said literally, no end, because 
 the last upon the catalogue was the Mintermunny Land, Tim- 
 ber and Mining Company, which being endless in itself cer- 
 tainly afforded no chance of a conclusion to the others. It 
 did not appear that the land was yet purchased, or the timber 
 grown, or the mining prospected, nor in fact that the Minter- 
 munny itself had any location whatever, except that which it 
 possessed in the verdant eyes of innocent purchasers of the 
 stock, and in its partial and incomplete realization in the 
 pockets of those of the projectors who had been so fortunate 
 as to find within their circle of acquaintance the verdant pur- 
 chasers alluded to. 
 
 Take it all together, therefore, the Chesslebury estate was a 
 most desirable estate ; and bad Mr. Stretch been disposed to 
 sell out his business, it would have been a magnificent item in 
 the good will. There being no legal fish-skin with which to 
 settle such a cup, the usual course was taken, and Mr. Stretch 
 and the three executors with their legal advisers, sipped at it 
 by turns, with the intention of drinking it off and leaving the 
 dregs and grounds at the bottom ; and thus, in the process of 
 time, did the Chesslebury estate become settled. 
 
 To accomplish this to his better satisfaction Mr. Stretch 
 with decent haste caused the word Counselor, in Mr. Chessle- 
 10
 
 218. CONE CUT CORNKRS. 
 
 bury's sign to be obliterated by the painting over it of the 
 word Executors, and affixing an s to the name of the deceased, to 
 put him in the possessive case. Moreover Mr. Stretch,- at the 
 same time, for convenience of having it all charged to the es- 
 tate in one bill, caused his own name with the full title of 
 Attorney & Counselor, to be delineated in gilt letters upon 
 three several glossy tin tickets, and the same nailed up, one 
 in bright contrast over his late principal's name, and the 
 others at convenient spots upon the stair-way, sticking out 
 where they were likely to be in the way of catching the at- 
 tention and the hats of passers by. This done, he proceeded 
 to make himself very much at home in the office, and to 
 know, or appear to know, himself, as much, and allow others 
 to know as little, as possible, about the affairs of the estate. 
 
 The three executors who found themselves named in the 
 will, held respectively brief confidential interviews with Mr. 
 Stretch, in which it seemed that he knew all about the estate, 
 and that the duties of the position offered them were merely 
 nominal. It appearing further, in answer to chance inquiries 
 addressed to Mr. Stretch, that under the law of the State, 
 executors were entitled to certain satisfactory commissions 
 upon sums collected and paid out by them, they severally 
 made their own little computations of the probable com- 
 missions upon the Chesslebury estate, valuing the same at the 
 Stretch estimate, and adding in a margin for perquisites, 
 drippings, drainings and strainings. They thereupon came to 
 the conclusion, as they emulously hastened to assure Mrs. 
 Chesslebury, that they should be very happy indeed to be of 
 any service in their power, in bringing the affairs of their 
 much lamented friend^to a settlement, a task doubtless of
 
 C ONE CUT C OttNEUS. 219 
 
 much weight, but one which would be cheerfully borne by 
 truq friendship ; and so far from shrinking from the burden 
 of the cares of so extensive and complicated interests, they 
 begged to be Called on for any thing and every thing. 
 
 In due tune these disinterested gentlemen qualified, and 
 thereafter proceeded to hold weekly meetings after bank 
 hours, for a short time, in the somewhat humorous expecta- 
 tion of arriving, by that means, at a clear view of the contents 
 of the estate. But the books and papers were in a condition 
 of Chessleburyan magnificence and indefiniteness. It was im- 
 possible to learn from them any thing more than vague 
 estimates and contingent calculations. So that after a meet- 
 ing of half an hour, and a foggy musing over papers and books, 
 the first executor, who was one of your clear-headed men who 
 saw things at a glance, would fix himself in an easy-chair, 
 light a cigar, and commence with a statement that the whole 
 affair lay in a nutshell, and would go on to show how plain it 
 was that the Mintermunny and the Carrol Plumme estate 
 were not exactly the same, but that probably the lands of 
 the Mintermunny were partly those of the Plumme estate, 
 having undoubtedly been exchanged by the deceased, admin- 
 istrating upon that estate, for Grand Palava Cinnebar stock, as 
 being a secure and profitable investment for the funds of the 
 Plumme estate, and that consequently ; when just at this 
 juncture, the second executor, who was one of your driving 
 men, a great hand at dispatching business, and had a repu- 
 tation for doing more in a day than almost any other man in. 
 the street, principally because, of the fifty things lie turned 
 his hand to, nine and forty were dropped in a hurry to take 
 hold of the next one just at this juncture, this most inde-
 
 220 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 fatigable man, suddenly pulling out his watch, would remem- 
 ber he must take the four o'clock train to Tarrytown ; where- 
 upon the third executor, one of your cautious, deliberate, 
 wary men, who will never see any thing except in daylight, 
 arid then are not sure about it unless the sun shines, who want 
 to know all about a thing before they speak, and who would 
 not kick a foot-ball without looking at it all round, admonishes 
 Mr. Stretch that he must make an exhibit to show all these 
 things, just how they stand. Mr. Stretch promising to have 
 them all straightened out at the next meeting, they were 
 accustomed to leave him. Then he generally charged the 
 estate with another week's services, and counted up his dis- 
 bursements both actual and constructive, including all omnibus 
 rides that it seemed likely it might have been necessary to 
 take, if things had been a little otherwise ; and from thence 
 until the hour of closing the office, he would relapse into the 
 classical recreation of writing a Latin maxim a great many 
 times upon his blotting-paper, with a free interlinear transla- 
 tion beneath it. 
 
 "DE MORTUIS NIL NISI BONUM." 
 
 "Ofihe dead there is nothing left but their bones."
 
 
 XX. 
 
 NOVEMBER, 1851. 
 
 "MOTHER," 
 
 said Paul, at 
 breakfast one 
 morning soon 
 after the death of Mr. 
 Chesslebury, " I think 
 I had better give up 
 my place at Bagglehall 
 & Floric's. 
 
 " Oh, Paul !" said Susie. 
 " Well, my son ?" 
 " Because," said Paul, " I think it is not a right business. 
 It is a very good place, and I think I could get on well with 
 them. But I did not know what the business was, or I would 
 not have engaged." 
 
 " Why ?" said Susie. " Groceries is a first-rate business, I 
 should think." 
 
 " Yes," said Paul. " But they sell liquors and wines, and 
 what is more, they don't do it honestly. I can't stay there."
 
 222 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Well, my son," said Mrs. Bundle, " I want you to do 
 just what you think is right, and we shall get along as well 
 as we can. I was afraid it would be too hard for you." 
 
 " Oh, it is n't that, mother. In fact that 's just the beauty 
 of the place. There 's a chance to do something there. They 
 are willing to let a fellow meddle with things if he '11 only 
 meddle right. I could improve there, I know. But I think 
 the business is wrong. I don't know but any other trade is 
 just as bad in one way or another. If it is, I 'in sorry. But 
 I can't do business in the way they do." And Paul briefly 
 recounted to his mother what was the most important branch 
 of the respectable family grocers' business, and what he had 
 seen of the conduct of it. 
 
 Mother and Susie concurring in Paul's judgment, he hast- 
 ened off to the store, and arrived there just in time to perform 
 the round of his preliminary duties in preparing the store for 
 the business of the day. Pending these he busied his thoughts 
 with a much-dreaded interview with Mr. Floric. At last hav- 
 ing magnified the importance of the occasion in his thoughts 
 by long delay, and having swept twice, and dusted three times, 
 and arranged the fig-drums, prune-boxes and pineapple 
 cheeses in four or five different ways, he took off his apron, 
 buttoned up his coat, and marched back to the counting- 
 room. 
 
 He found Mr. Floric there apparently in a mood of great 
 good-humor with himself and the trade. For he had that 
 morning purchased down town half a dozen casks of Otard 
 Brandy, Avhich casks having upon them the custom-house cer- 
 tificates of yesterday, the genuineness of the importation was 
 thus beyond doubt established, and they would capitally fill
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 223 
 
 several orders from the firm's best customers, who wanted the 
 highest-priced article, while at the same time the same casks 
 by virtue of having been emptied of their original and genuine 
 contents three hours after they were out of the custom-house, 
 and having then been sold with the certificates fresh upon 
 them to a dealer in government endorsements of this descrip- 
 tion, who filled the casks promptly with a home-made article, 
 Mr. Floric had been able to procure the six casks of Otard 
 at a very insignificant sum. When Paul entered the 
 little counting-room, that gentleman was figuring out upon 
 the margin of a newspaper, the interesting problem of how 
 many hundred per cent, of profit there was in selling seventy 
 cent brandy in ten dollar casks at five dollars and a half a 
 gallon. 
 
 " Well, young man !" condescended the grocer, looking up 
 with one jolly red eye, and shutting the other very tight, as if 
 to keep his calculation in sight, and not let it drop in the in- 
 terruption. 
 
 " Mr. Floric," said Paul, beginning just as he had rehearsed 
 it outside, and without regard to that salutation. " Mr. Floric, 
 you remember when you engaged me it was to be at first on 
 trial ; because I did n't know much about " 
 
 " Oh, well Bundle, I forgot to say to you that Mr. Baggie- 
 hall and I are perfectly satisfied. You '11 do. You '11 do." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Paul. " I am very much obliged to you. 
 But if you please, sir, I should prefer not making any arrange- 
 ment. I don't like " 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the little man, opening both eyes wide, 
 and dropping the calculation out of view. 
 
 " I can't help it," said Paul, determined to speak the truth.
 
 224 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " I do not think it is right, sir. It is bad, I know it is, and I 
 don't believe any good ever came of it. It killed my uncle, 
 you know that too, sir, and it ruined my father, and and I 
 would rather not have any thing to do with it." 
 
 Mr. Floric seemed as if he had been struck by astonishment, 
 such a blow, that it drove all the breath out of his body, and 
 he had not yet recovered it 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, sir, for your kindness to 
 me. I would have tried to be satisfactory to you, and I think 
 I would. But I don't think liquor-selling is right, sir, and I 
 would rather not have any part or lot in the matter." 
 
 Mr. Floric, still panting from the effects of his blow, here 
 found opportunity to reply. 
 
 " Well, my lad," said he, " I am sorry you feel so about it. 
 Because you and I would have got along most excellently 
 well together, I am sure, except for these little prejudices of 
 yours. You '11 outgrow them some of these days." 
 
 " I hope not," said Paul, earnestly. 
 
 " When you are as old as I am," continued Mr. Floric, not 
 noticing the interruption, " and as experienced," he added as 
 an afterthought, " you '11 understand these things better. It 's 
 the same in all trades. We must do it We must live. If 
 one don't do it another will. So it don't make any odds. 
 You 'd better go home and get calmed down. You '11 think 
 better of this to-morrow. You 're excited, I see, by your un- 
 cle's death. That 's all." 
 
 " No, sir," said Paul, resolutely, " it is not that. I am not 
 very old, I know, but I have had all the experience I want 
 in this business. I shall not think any better of it Good 
 day."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 225 
 
 " Spunky fellow," said Mr. Floric, as Paul closed the count- 
 ing-room door behind him. " Pity." And then he resumed 
 his calculation, and dismissed Paul from his mind. 
 
 " Halloo, Blunder," interposed the voice of Mr. Hococks, as 
 Paul was leaving the store with his apron in a newspaper 
 parcel under his arm. " Halloo, Blunder." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Paul, respectfully, not inclined at that mo- 
 ment to contradict the imputation. 
 
 " So you 've made your fortune quick ; eh 2 I tell you, 
 boy," he added, confidentially, "when you set up on your 
 own account, don't put too much sugar of lead in the Cham- 
 pagne. It's cheap, but it's dangerous. Spoils your cus- 
 tomers." 
 
 Paul looking at his instructor, rightly judged him to be in 
 too happy a condition to appreciate a reply, and so turned 
 away in silence, and walked down the street. 
 
 Gladly relieved of his engagement, and entertaining dark 
 shadows of the wicked wish that some rumored law, fanatical 
 and despotic though it might be, could ruin the business of 
 the respectable dealers, Paul walked down Broadway to- 
 ward Liberty-street. On the steps of the Chessleburyan of- 
 fice, Mr. Stretch stood, just arrived from a late and leisurely 
 breakfast in Beaver-street. 
 
 Paul was passing the doorway with no other notice of its 
 occupant than a sidelong glance, when he was accosted with 
 much warmth. 
 
 " Ah, Bundle, my dear fellow," cried Mr. Stretch, jerking 
 over the heads of the passers-by the remains of the cigar that 
 had been superseded by his toothpick, " how are you ? 
 Where are you {roino; ?" 
 
 10*
 
 226 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Mr. Rundle was well, he said; but where he was going 
 Mr. Stretch could only judge from his passing on without 
 stopping. 
 
 Mr. Stretch was not inclined to allow his greeting to be so 
 lightly returned. For some purpose he seemed particularly 
 desirous of more than a mere recognition. So thought Paul 
 on being called earnestly to come back. 
 
 " I want to see you," urged Mr. Stretch. 
 
 Paul, with his accustomed good nature, complied. 
 
 Mr. Stretch urged an invitation to go up stairs, which Paul 
 cordially declined. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Stretch, " I wish you would come in some 
 time. I think I 'd better talk with you. There are interests 
 that er I er could protect. Interests of some importance ; 
 that is to say that I have reason to believe or rather I am 
 induced to suppose I should say to conjecture that mat- 
 ters connected with your interests er may need my atten- 
 tion, and in the position in which I stand I may be of service. 
 Come up stairs." 
 
 Paul was very much obliged, looked up at Trinity clock, 
 and thought he would go up a few moments. 
 
 " Well, now," said Mr. Stretch after they were in the office, 
 " What I mean is this. You see me here. I am in charge 
 of these interests, and I know whatever there is to be known 
 of the late lamented and so forth. His affairs with other 
 people included. Now I want to see justice done. I want to 
 have things set right where they ain't right. That 's all I 
 want You understand." 
 
 Paul did not understand a word, so he said " Perfectly." 
 
 " That 's all," said Mr. Stretch.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 227 
 
 i'aul seemed to have been expecting something more, for 
 lie prolonged an awkward silence. 
 
 " You mean to say, Mr. Stretch," said Paul, speaking at last, 
 " that things have come to your knowledge in a capacity 
 of confidence, which you think I may be interested to know ? 
 and which for a consideration, you are willing to disclose." 
 
 " Not at all, Mr. Rundle. Not any such thing. I havo 
 nothing to disclose. I know nothing one way or the other. 
 I only guess, and I guess only what any other professional 
 man of experience would guess, that where a party has had 
 dealings with another party, and there has been difficulties, 
 and one party has lost, we may say there is a presumption the 
 other party has gained by it. And where one party goes off 
 and leaves his interests at loose ends, the other party has it all 
 his own way. All I say is I Avant justice done. I might say 
 it 's no difference to me, and then it is n't ; but then again it 
 is ^ for you see as a professional man, I feel a pleasure in see- 
 ing things right, and having that done which is right between 
 man and man, or between ghost and ghost, which is more 
 likely to be the case in this matter. Your father has n't been 
 heard of yet, has he T 
 
 " No," said Paul. 
 
 " I 've nothing to disclose. But if I can be of any service 
 to your family, I should be very happy. What the true state 
 of the case ma}' be, I have no knowledge. You see I don't 
 want to know unless it is my business. If I am employed 
 then it is my business to find out." 
 
 " Well," said Paul, " I believe I understand you now. I 
 thought my father did not get all his due with Mr. Chesslebury." 
 
 Mr. Stretch shook his head.
 
 228 , CONE CUT co Hire us. 
 
 " And if lie had the papers now, lie might make it all right yet." 
 
 Mr. Stretch nodded. 
 
 " But we don't know where he is," said Paul. " If we 
 knew 't was so, we could n't do any thing without him." 
 
 Mr. Stretch whistled one short note. 
 
 " Say, when did your father clear out ?" 
 
 " It was in eighteen forty-eight," said Paul. 
 
 " The summer was n't it ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then it 's three years T 
 
 " Over three years," responded Paul. 
 
 " And he has not been heard from V 1 
 
 " No," said Paul. " It is three years on fourth of July." 
 
 " "Well," said Mr. Stretch, carelessly, " I should say that 
 comes clearly within the statute. I should advise, if I were 
 asked, you understand, I should advise a separation. A di- 
 vorce can be obtained without any difficulty. It is a matter 
 of course almost a mere form. If nothing is heard from 
 him in a few weeks, I should certainly advise no delay. You 
 did n't know that an absence, in fact one might say a deser- 
 tion, like the present case, was ground for a separation." 
 
 " No," said Paul, " I was not aware of it." 
 
 "Yes," returned Mr. Stretch. "That was what I called 
 you back to suggest. It is the simplest thing in the world, 
 and there is no difficulty or doubt about it. After that is 
 done, I apprehend we shall have no difficulty in in consider- 
 ing what to do next. That 's the only course." 
 
 So Paul went away. He was quite uncertain whether Mr. 
 Stretch's suggestion of a divorce ought to be resented as an 
 insult, or accepted as a favor* 
 * jfc*~.
 
 CONE CUT CORN BUS. 229 
 
 When a person whose mill of petty dishonesties has long 
 been driven by the pressure of contracted means, comes un- 
 expectedly into a condition of prosperity, as had Mr. Stretch, 
 he usually finds himself somewhat regretful of the littleness 
 of the grists he has been grinding, and is very ready to be- 
 come penitent for the sin of having cheated for so small gains. 
 Mr. Stretch, Paul thought, must be in this frame of mind, 
 and desirous to make up for an ill-paid connivance in his late 
 employer's enterprising operations, by better paid services in 
 the other direction. Being, however, more mistrustful of Mr. 
 Stretch's honesty than he was even of his own legal knowl- 
 edge, he resolved to repair at once to Mr. Edgecutt for advice. 
 Mr. Edgecutt was a young lawyer whose acquaintance (in 
 the Chessleburyan sense of the word) Paul had casually made 
 in the capacity of messenger in the store of Haggle & 
 Change. He found Mr. Edgecutt in his office, a pleasant 
 little room in a third story in Nassau-street. He was a very 
 young-looking man of about twenty-five years of age. Hag- 
 gle & Change had employed him to collect, for they 
 thought he would be cheap ; but in the course of a few 
 months by assiduity and fidelity he had quite monopolized 
 the whole law business of the firm. 
 
 " Mr. Edgecutt," said Paul, as he took a seat by that gen- 
 tleman, " I have some questions to submit to you. My name 
 is Bundle." 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Rundle ?" said the lawyer. 
 
 He was a pleasant-looking man, of a sharp, keen eye. - 
 
 Paul thought that unless he could contrive to state his case 
 in the legal manner, a lawyer could not understand it. So he 
 commenced : 

 
 230 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Suppose that A makes a mortgage " 
 
 " Who ?" interrupted Mr. Edgecutt. 
 
 " A, I said," answered Paul. " Well, suppose it 's me. 
 Suppose I make a mortgage to somebody, to secure him or 
 her for funds they put in my possession, and they leave the 
 papers with me. And then I die. Have they a light to the 
 securities again, and to payment of them ?" 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt glanced at his client a moment, and then said 
 quietly, " No." 
 
 " Why not?" asked Paul, with some disappointment. 
 
 " Because you are an infant, and you can not make a valid 
 mortgage. You are not of age, are you ?" 
 
 " Oh !" said Paul, quite nonplussed by this unexpected 
 difficulty. " Well, suppose I was of age." 
 
 " Mr. Rundle," said the lawyer pleasantly, " I suppose you 
 wish to consult me professionally. You make a mistake which 
 almost all clients do at first, of concealing your case, and try- 
 ing to get an opinion upon a statement of what you deem to be 
 the essential points. If I were to give an opinion upon such a 
 statement, you could not rely upon it, you see. In the case you 
 have in mind, you are in need of advice, not only upon the law 
 applying, but upon what are the important facts which govern 
 its application. It is probably a matter of confidence and deli- 
 cacy, and you may not like to reveal all the circumstances. I 
 can not, however, advise you, unless you like to do so. I 
 ought even to know the names, or at least the relations of the 
 parties, and the connection you bear to the case, because with- 
 out knowing that, I can not tell how full, or correct, or straight- 
 forward your story may be. Any hypothetical case you 
 can make and put, supposing it to contain all the important
 
 CONE' CUT CORNERS. 231 
 
 points, will be sure to omit some essential features of the real 
 case." 
 
 " Well," said Paul, " I will tell you all about it." 
 
 " I think you had better," said the lawyer. " Whatever you 
 say will be confidential with me. If you wish my real opin- 
 ion, you must tell me your real story. I can not give you 
 any advice otherwise, and the lawyer who will, is not worth 
 consulting. He will surely lead you wrong." 
 
 " I think you are right, sir," said Paul. " I Avill tell you 
 every thing, and then, if you can give me your opinion, I 
 should like it." 
 
 Paul then recounted the circumstances which led him to 
 believe that his father had placed nearly all his funds in Mr. 
 Chesslebury's hands, and had taken a mortgage upon the Ches- 
 slebury house to secure it, but had left the mortgage with Mr. 
 Chesslebury to be recorded, which that gentleman had never 
 done, and Paul said that he thought the mortgage was now 
 among the papers under Mr. Stretch's control, and that it was 
 the reason of his conversation. 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt questioned him upon various matters, and, 
 without expressing any opinion upon the chances of success, 
 said he would^ investigate the case, and if Paul would call to 
 see him the next day but one, he would undoubtedly have 
 some information to report to him. 
 
 Thence Paul in perplexity, doubled in degree, because its 
 cause had evidently perplexed also Mr. Edgecutt, went with 
 some anxiety and uneasiness to the postoffice. 
 
 At the postoffice Paul found a letter addressed in a well- 
 known hand, to his mother. With it he hastened home. The
 
 232 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 letter was from father. It contained a twenty dollar bill. It 
 Avas dated Portland, Maine, October 9th, 1851. 
 Mother read it to Paul and Susie as follows : 
 
 "DEAREST MARGARET. 
 
 " If you receive this with any interest, and read it, it 
 will be more than I deserve. A single thought, a solitary 
 tear is more than I can claim now. For unless you offer it, I 
 am an outcast and an outlaw from you. 
 
 "The best account of myself in the present, you will 
 gather from my story. I will try to tell you briefly where I 
 have been, what I have done, how I am here, and why I send 
 this, but do not come myself. 
 
 " It was a long time ago I left you. I went off fourth of 
 July. I was half crazy, and said to myself, 'She shan't be 
 troubled with my troubles any more. It 's Independence 
 Day, and she shall be independent.' I knew that if I left 
 you, and was not heard from, you might abandon me ; 
 and I said in my heart, I 'd give her a chance, God forgive 
 me. 
 
 " Would to Heaven there was less Independence Day and 
 more law, in New York. 
 
 "Since that time, for three years I have been getting 
 deeper and deeper into trouble. I staid about New York a 
 while, working a little, and being idle a good deal. Then I 
 shipped on a vessel and went South. I spent some months in 
 New Orleans. At last I resolved to come back to you. I 
 could stay away no longer. I came to New York again. 
 We got in in the evening. On my way up I wondered if you 
 were at home, and how you would receive me. The doubt never
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 233 
 
 entered my mind before. I did not really mistrust you even 
 then ; but I hesitated. I knew I had no right to expect your 
 greeting. I wanted time to collect my thoughts and consider 
 what to say when I saw you. I faltered. I was out of 
 breath and faint. I looked at my poor dress, for I came, 
 like the prodigal, in rags, and was ashamed of it. I 
 thought of you, and wondered bitterly whether I should find 
 you well, prosperous and happy ; above me to look down on 
 me ; or forsaken, poor, and sunk to my level. Oh ! Mar- 
 garet, if you knew what I suffered in that hour, you would 
 forgive me that I ever thought so of you as I did. I confess 
 it. Because I had abandoned you and deserved no notice 
 from you, I harshly said you would turn me away. 
 
 " I was passing The Shades. What a name ! I hesitated. 
 I went in to rest and collect my thoughts. I did not come 
 out sober. That was the end of that hope my last hope I 
 thought. I grew worse than ever. 
 
 "Any thing dishonest, or any thing unfaithful to you I 
 have not done, but all shame and misery short of that I have 
 been through. But I ought not to speak of my suffering, for 
 the keenest part of it has been the thought which in sober 
 hours I could never forget that you were abandoned to your 
 fate by me. Heaven knows that women, unprotected in a 
 great city, get little grace from men. It made me burn with 
 shame to think that I had left you and my daughter Susie to 
 such fate as you might find ; and that by my indolence and 
 vice I had put upon Paul, my son, that dear burden of care, 
 which I, in infatuation, threw off, and left him to bear alone, 
 with no encouragement, but disgrace from me. And then to 
 recollect that even this were better than to have remained a
 
 234 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 shameless burden on you, as I Avas, impoverishing your means, 
 disgracing my children's name, degrading your minds to a 
 familiarity with my vice and shame. All this was my keen- 
 est misery. In every wretched 'day of three long years it 
 punished me for past intemperance, and yet drove me to 
 renew it more grossly than ever. 
 
 '' After I turned back from going home, I thought I was 
 lost indeed. I did not care. I said I was glad I didn't go. 
 I said that you were too wise to show me any mercy ; and I 
 was glad I had come to my senses in time. I went to sea 
 again. 
 
 " I resolved I would never return to New York. It was a 
 bitter and a rash resolution. I did not think how it would 
 serve me in better times, as now it does. This voyage was on 
 an eastern coasting vessel. In the great storm, two months 
 ago, we were wrecked near this place. And now, at last, 
 comes the happy part of my story. I have not drunk since. 
 I am, thank God, safe, in Maine. They have a law here that 
 no liquor shall be sold. It is very recently passed, but it is a 
 glorious experiment ; throughout the State the worst of earthly 
 temptations is now put out of sight. Oh, Margaret, I 'in free 
 here. Only such wretches as I was, can know what a liberty 
 it is to walk the streets and not meet an overpowering devil 
 on e^very corner, hanging out his sign. In New York I was a 
 slave. Here I can go from one end of the town to the other and 
 not find my master ; not even fear to meet with him. I am 
 free here. 
 
 " I have been here two months. I should have written 
 before forgive me, Margaret, that I did not. But at first I 
 did not know my liberty. I know it now. I have worked
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 235 
 
 steady and sober. The trifle I enclose is the savings of my 
 first wages. I send all to you. Though I must stay here, 
 my treasures are at home. 
 
 " I can not leave Maine. Margaret, I dare not. I do not 
 dare to trust myself away. But you can come here. If you 
 are living to receive this, come. We may be happy here. I 
 need you. I want my home here. How long I can stay ex- 
 iled and alone, I don't know. Come with Paul and Susie. 
 I am sure of work and gradual prosperity here, if God pleases. 
 Will you not sell the business, or what remains of it, at the 
 best you can, and come and join me ? Oh, Margaret, what 
 mercy I am asking. I who should come to you, and that 
 most humbly. 
 
 " It was almost twenty-three years ago that I came 
 to you, proudly at that time, and asked you to be mine. I 
 was strong in myself then. How happy I was in your con- 
 fiding consent. Now I ask again ; humbly this time. I 
 have nothing to offer, every thing to ask. I was thinking of 
 this yesterday, when I was hesitating whether to dare to write 
 to you. I think I should not, except that I now believe that, 
 with the help of my Saviour, I am a different man from what 
 I have been. I have been in the very whirlpool of destruc- 
 tion, but I am now safe and happy, for He has brought me 
 salvation. 
 
 " I know, Margaret, this will rejoice your heart more than 
 all the rest. Our heavenly Father has dealt most mercifully 
 with me through all the desperateness of my course. When 
 I was with you and happy, I disliked even to hear His name. 
 When I became ensnared and wretched, and abandoned you, 
 I cursed the fate that ruled me, as I said. Now, since I have
 
 236 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 been brought by his kindness into a place of safety, and have 
 been made to think and feel again like a man, I have seen 
 what I have been, and I know now where my strength and 
 true happiness is. 
 
 " But I can not help thinking, as I write, that after all you 
 may never get this ; or, getting it, you may say, ' I can not 
 regard it or, regarding it, you may say, ' I am glad he is 
 safe and doing well, but I can not trust myself and my family 
 to him again.' If so, I can not remonstrate. But do write to 
 me at once. I dare not go away from here, or I would hasten 
 to you. 
 
 "Whatever you decide, read this to Paul and Susie. I 
 want them to know all. May God bless you all ; and what- 
 ever earthly lot he has in store for us here, that he will bring 
 us all together above, redeemed at last, is my constant ami 
 earnest prayer. 
 
 " I am, dear Margaret, if you suffer me, again and 
 anew, your affectionate, repentant, faithful and loving hus- 
 band. 
 
 " THOMAS RUNDLE. 
 
 " P. S. Don't forget my love to the children. You can 
 give them better counsel than I can. Do not spare my exam- 
 ple if it can do them good. And come, Margaret, come if 
 you can." 
 
 It would be hard to describe the scene which followed the 
 reading of this letter from the long-lost husband and father. 
 Speechlessness and tears can not be written down. The swift, 
 glancing, loving thoughts of wife and daughter and son, sym- 
 pathetic and mutually conscious, but silent, unspoken, un-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 237 
 
 hinted, cau not be spun into words from that awkward distaff, 
 the pen. Joy and delight so exquisite and etherial that it dis- 
 tills in tears and speaks in sighs, are not to be held up ex- 
 posed to every view. 
 
 It was not until that evening, when the little family gath- 
 ered as usual in the little back-room for prayers ; and Mrs. 
 Bundle had read the allotted portion of Scripture, and all 
 knelt in devotion, that father's name was mentioned ; and even 
 then sobs came instead of words ; and gratitude and all tear- 
 ful praise outrunning the ready lips, from honest hearts went 
 up to heaven quickest on silent wings, like angels. 
 
 The next morning, although there was no definitely ex- 
 pressed consultation, they all seemed to feel that it was de- 
 cided that as soon as possible, they should go to Maine. Susie 
 wrote that morning to father. She was on all ordinaiy 
 occasions mother's amanuensis, but this time mother put on 
 her glasses, and with an unsteady hand, added a postcript of 
 a few words and a great many tears ; and Paul took the letter 
 to the office. 
 
 At the same time he told Mr. Edgecutt of the news ; and 
 consequent plans. With Mr. Edgecutt's assistance, the stock 
 and other property of the family was turned into money at no 
 great disadvantage ; and after paying off all the debts, a sum 
 of several hundred dollars was left. With this in hand, the 
 family started for Maine ; but not, however, until Paul had 
 sought out Mr. Stretch, and effectually disabused his mind of 
 the prospect or expectation of being retained in a divorce case 
 among the connections of the Chesslebury family. As for the 
 interests of the Bundles, which Mr. Stretch had in mind to 
 protect, that account was, by advice of Mr. Edgecutt, left
 
 238 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 standing until Paul's father should have an opportunity to 
 advise some action. 
 
 So Paul, with his mother and sister, left the city. Although 
 they were abandoning their home, and had no expectation of 
 returning to it again, not even Susie felt any shadow of regret 
 at parting with New York, until, as the steamboat " State of 
 Maine," by which they went, left the wharf, she was, strange 
 to say, surprised to see Mr. Edgecutt on the shore waving his 
 handkerchief to them.
 
 XXI. 
 
 JANUARY, 1862. 
 
 WHY was 
 
 Elder Graynes 
 cottage built 
 upon the hill, 
 next beyond 
 
 the meeting-house, as you go 
 up out of the village, toward 
 Captain Mayferrie's ? 
 
 It seems impossible to say, unless it was because the ground 
 just there was too steep to be good for any thing else. 
 
 It may be, however, that considerations of convenience and 
 economy in the construction of the cellar, had some influence 
 in determining the selection of this site for the parsonage of 
 Cone Cut Corners. For the cottage faced the road. One end 
 of it, therefore, stuck into the hill above, and the other end 
 projected out of the hill below. This made it a very easy 
 task to build the cellar, because it saved digging. Now
 
 240 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 country ministers, it is well understood, have no need of 
 spacious cellars ; or of cellars warm in winter, and cool in 
 summer. It seems to be generally considered better for that 
 class of the community to be thrown upon the care of Provi- 
 dence as much as possible. And if the few creature-comforts 
 which Elder Graynes' cellar contained, did freeze in January 
 and melt in July, it would serve so probably thought the 
 founders of the edifice continually to admonish him of the 
 dependence of man, and of the worthlessness of the luxuries 
 of life. 
 
 It is unnecessary to inquire whether this philosophy of the 
 pastoral office was peculiar to Cone Cut Corners, or whether 
 it is common to other parishes. The sum of the Cone Cut 
 theories upon the subject was, that one becoming a -minister 
 ought no longer to be regarded as a man, possessing the feel- 
 ings and characteristics of other men, much less the liberal 
 rights and limited responsibilities of common Christians ; but 
 that he was thenceforward to become a peculiarity ; a being, 
 as it were, half man, half angel man, in that he should live 
 and labor on earth angel, in that he should subsist on noth- 
 ing in a pecuniary point of view. He was to be a man in 
 respect to his tasks and means of labor an angel in regard 
 to his finances and sources of happiness. 
 
 In accordance with this view, Elder Graynes' salary was 
 adjusted at the lowest possible figure, and paid with as little 
 punctuality as practicable. 
 
 For the Cone Cut philosophy forbade that a minister should 
 lay up money. Other men, aye, even deacons, were expected 
 to be remunerated for their labors, at a rate above their im- 
 mediate necessities. If Deacon Ficksom saved something
 
 CONE CUT CO 11 NEKS. 241 
 
 yearly, if he laid by au annual surplus to invest in mortgages 
 or bank-stocks, by way of provision for the wants of his fami- 
 ly, this was thrift ; it was a virtue. But for Elder Graynes 
 to do the same, would be parsimony ; worldliness ; a down- 
 right sin. The sheep could be trusted, the shepherd could 
 not. So true is it that circumstances alter cases. 
 
 The good Elder, however, had long ago made up his mind 
 to meet with equanimity such peculiarities of treatment and 
 regard from his people, as these, and he submitted to the dic- 
 tates of the Cone Cut philosophy with the utmost good- 
 humor. This winter, on the January installment falling due, 
 he was not even ruffled by the information that the treasury 
 was quite empty. 
 
 The Cone Cut philosophy, however, did not consider itself 
 refuted even by this experience. It embodied within itself 
 an ample and systematic provision for even this not uncom- 
 mon emergency. When all other means failed, when contri- 
 bution-boxes fainted for very hunger in their emptiness, and 
 subscription-papers turned pale and looked permanently blank 
 with astonishment at the intellectual condition of a parish in 
 which so few persons seemed to know how to write their own 
 names, when the list of those who would give was exhausted, 
 and the list of those who, although they would not give, would 
 lend, was drawn to the last, even at this apparently final and 
 ultimate point of descent, there yet remained to the Cone Cut 
 philosophy another resource. 
 
 It was in the Donation Party. 
 
 The donation party was a peculiar and a noble contrivance. 
 It so completely settled up all arrears, balanced accounts with 
 the minister, set a seal upon a receipt in full of all his de- 
 11
 
 242 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 mands to date, and carried forward still a handsome balance 
 of gratitude against him, that it is not strange it became a 
 favorite institution under the Cone Cut philosophy. 
 
 In the present exigency of affairs, therefore, Elder Graynes 
 was not at all surprised to hear mysterious intimations of 
 " speedy settlements," " making things all right again," " turn- 
 ing over a new leaf," " starting square," and others of an 
 equally satisfactory import ; together with pithy maxims, to 
 the effect that " what could not be done in one Avay, might in 
 another ;" and " when the ladies took hold of a thing, some- 
 times they succeeded when the men had failed," and the like. 
 Readily guessing the event which cast these shadows before, 
 the Elder quietly resigned his chance of subsistence for the 
 coming quarter to Providence and the donation party. 
 
 Among his parishioners however, or at least among so 
 many of them as felt in duty bound to make some substantial 
 contribution to the proposed donations, there was a deeper 
 feeling of personal interest in the project, and of responsibility 
 for its success. And there was indeed no little consideration, 
 and no little discussion, therefore, before each of the good 
 ladies had settled with her husband what they should give. 
 
 And it was interesting to observe the struggle which took 
 place in many minds betwixt the grateful desire, iipon the 
 one hand, to make a more brilliant donation to their good 
 pastor than any other family in town, and the noble sense of 
 duty which, upon the other, prompted the Christian Cone 
 Cutter to consecrate all his resources to the fulfillment of that 
 elevated obligation, the making provision for his own family. 
 
 Nowhere, perhaps, was a sense of this latter obligation more 
 generally or more devoutly felt than in Cone Cut Corners.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 243 
 
 For, having read that " if any one provides not for those of 
 his own house he is worse than an infidel," the Cone Cut 
 philosophers naturally enough concluded that he that did so 
 provide, was better than a Christian. Never was precept of 
 elementary piety more faithfully carried out in daily and 
 hourly practice than was this, in Cone Cut Corners, during 
 the few weeks which preceded the donation party. 
 
 But it was a hard matter for the families of Cone Cut to 
 decide what to give. 
 
 The superficial reasoncr would say, " Money." But here 
 the superficial reasoner would speak with his accustomed 
 lack of sound, sterling common sense. For upon a broad and 
 comprehensive view of the subject, meaning thereby a view in 
 which the mere personal advantage and convenience of the 
 individual donee is merged in the consideration of the in- 
 terests and natural sentiments of the great body of donors, 
 we at once discern that money is by no means an expedient 
 medium for parish donations. 
 
 Let the superficial reasoner attend, if he have capacity for 
 the train of thought, while this matter is made elaborately 
 clear. 
 
 If, sir, at a donation party, Mrs. Beatue gives a two dollar 
 bill, and Mrs. Bragin a quarter eagle, is there any possibility 
 of denying that Mrs. Bragin has given the most ] 
 
 Clearly not. 
 
 Is there any opportunity for Mrs. Beatue to suggest that 
 quarter eagles were very well a few years ago, but are rather 
 out of fashion now ? Is there any chance for Mrs. Beatue to 
 whisper to her little coterie of especial friends, that Mrs. 
 Bragin meant well, but really the woman has no taste \ Is
 
 244 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 there any room for the coterie of especial friends to thumb and 
 finger the respective gifts, and assure Mrs. Beatue that her 
 two dollar bill, though less showy, will wear longer, wash 
 better, and be far more serviceable in the long run than Mrs. 
 Bragin's quarter eagle ? 
 
 Clearly there is not. 
 
 But all these things can be done with a gift of dry goods, 
 and Mrs. Beatue and Mrs. Bragin can each return home- 
 ward from the donation party in a happy faith that her gift 
 will be the most highly valued of the two. 
 
 Still there were in Cone Cut Corners several superficial 
 reasoners, who, in the blindness of their minds, resolved on 
 making pecuniary donations. And very acceptable and use- 
 ful donations they were to the Elder, notwithstanding their 
 unhappy tendency to cause heart-burnings and ill-feeling 
 among the parishioners. 
 
 But, oh, the pies and the loaves of cake that were baked for 
 the donation party ! For these were easy to make* and did 
 not cost a great deal, after all, and then a good many would 
 be wanted for the supper-table, and besides, to have a pie or 
 two, and some nice cake left over for the week after the do- 
 nation, would be nice ; so thought all the good ladies. And 
 Mrs. Graynes' heart sank within her, on the afternoon of the 
 long-expected Thursday, as she saw one good female parish- 
 ioner after another, opening the little white gate that led into 
 the parsonage yard, with something very round and flat bal- 
 anced on the palm of her hand, and covered up with a white 
 napkin. Nine loaves of cake and thirteen pies in this man- 
 ner contributed themselves to the support of the Gospel as 
 embodied in the person of Elder Graynes.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 245 
 
 A large portion of these, indeed, were eaten up by the good 
 parishioners themselves, during the evening of the appointed 
 Thursday. For at a donation party, the immediately eatable 
 donations are, by custom immemorial, arranged upon a refresh- 
 ment-table, from which a hungry parish take the first selec- 
 tions and the choice cuts ; and the fragments, and the noth- 
 ings which are left, are gathered up for the future mainte- 
 nance of the pastor's family. For Elder Graynes and his 
 wife, however, there were so many left, that the worthy pair 
 ate nothing but pie, except cake, and nothing but cake, except 
 pie, for nearly a week after the festive scene. At the expira- 
 tion of this time, Mrs. Graynes, observing that there were 
 still half a dozen pies which manifested slight tokens of im- 
 patience to be called into active service, ventured, with some 
 hesitation, to distribute them among several families of her 
 parish, who were not so rich but that the occasional assistance 
 of their more prosperous brethren and sisters was welcome. 
 
 But could Mrs. Juke, who had been a contributor of some 
 of these very pies, tamely submit to such an indignity ? By 
 no means. It was but a short time before that lady, by some 
 accident, learned that Mrs. Graynes did not consider the Juke 
 pies good enough to eat, and had given them away to poor 
 folks. This fact having been commented upon in the Juke 
 family councils, and discussed in certain neighborly circles 
 which Mrs. Juke and Miss Georgiana Juke frequented, very 
 nearly led to the establishment of a new church of a different 
 denomination, in Cone Cut Corners. It did, indeed, form the 
 foundation of a long-established estrangement of the Jukes 
 from the pastor and his wife, and a consequent non-attendance 
 of the family upon public worship for a number of weeks.
 
 246 COKE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 To the same cause is to be attributed the transfer of Miss 
 Georgiana Juke from Mrs. Graynes' class in Sabbath-school, 
 to another ; a piece of retaliation which it was not so hard for 
 Mrs. Graynes to bear after all. 
 
 Mrs. Buxton, of course, gave a Bible. Mrs. Buxton always 
 did give a Bible. She had a little memorandum-book like a 
 tract-distributor's diary, in which she put down the Bibles she 
 gave away ; and there were seventy-nine entered, in a period 
 of a little less than eleven years, and she now entered the 
 eightieth as having been devoted to the support of the Gospel 
 as embodied in the person of Elder Graynes. 
 
 So Mrs. Buxton selected at the store a very pretty little 
 copy of the Scriptures, with a brass clasp, the price of which 
 was eighty-seven cents the Diamond Bible, it was called, 
 which being interpreted means " The-too-fine-print-to-be-read- 
 without-hurting-your-eyes Bible." And Mrs. Buxton wrote 
 on the yellow fly-leaf: 
 
 " To the Rev. E. L. Graynes and his wife, 
 
 **From their loving parishioner, 
 
 " JAKE BUXTOK." 
 
 And on Thursday evening put the volume, done up in 
 half enough tissue-paper to hold it, on the table with the other 
 presents. And every body took it out of the paper and said, 
 " How neat," and opened the clasp to look inside, and said, 
 " How appropriate," and read what was on the fly-leaf, and 
 said, " Pretty, is n't it ?" and turned away with an idea that a 
 Bible was, after all, the most appropriate present for a minister. 
 
 Now Elder Graynes was not without a copy of the Holy
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 247 
 
 Scriptures before this time. Ho had already, in fact, several 
 copies, as follows : 
 
 An old family Bible, -with an apochrypha of births, mar- 
 riages, and deaths, between the Old and New Testaments. 
 
 A small Bible which his mother gave him when he was 
 a boy. 
 
 A medium-sized Bible which he bought when he was in 
 the theological seminary. 
 
 A handsome Bible that his aunt gave him when he was 
 married. 
 
 Four- or five Bibles that had been given him by loving 
 parishioners at different times. 
 
 He had besides : 
 
 Three Testaments New Testaments, but very old copies. 
 
 A Scott's Commentary. 
 
 And, in his capacity as depositary of the Bible Society, 
 ex officio, he had in his charge for sale upon occasion, or even 
 to be given away to such as were too poor to buy, a great stock 
 of Bibles and Testaments, neatly arranged in the book-case in 
 the parlor. 
 
 Moreover, there were in the same book-case two or three 
 Bibles which Mrs. Graynes had before she was married. 
 
 But notwithstanding all this, the good couple thanked their 
 loving parishioner cordially, and on the morning after the 
 donation party, they put the new recruit away in the book- 
 case, at the end of a whole regiment of copies of the Scrip- 
 tures, without, we do believe, a single thought that it was 
 hard that the Buxtons should give them an eighty-seven cent 
 Bible, which they had no use for, and might not sell or give 
 away, in the place of a cash payment of three or four dollars,
 
 248 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 which, in justice, was due to the Elder from a man in Mr. 
 Buxton's position. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Tripp gave a different sort of present a 
 barrel of flour. 
 
 "That is something like," thought the Elder, on Thursday 
 afternoon, as he saw Mr. Tripp's barrel-loaded hand-sled turn- 
 ing up into the yard. But the Elder never knew the exact 
 history of that barrel. It was a history not quite palatable 
 enough, perhaps, to be disclosed to him, stil^ less to Mrs. 
 Graynes. But the truth was, that a few .swreeks before the 
 donation party, Mr. Tripp brought a barrel of flour down to 
 his own house for domestic use. He unheaded it and stood it 
 in the store-closet. Superfine it was branded outside, and 
 superfine it looked within. But not many days passed before 
 Mrs. Tripp, in developing the resources of the barrel, develop- 
 ed ! ! well, whether the mice had carried the straw into 
 the barrel before it was headed up, and made their nest there, 
 or whether the top of the barrel, while yet open, had been 
 selected as a place of sepulture for mice, on account of its 
 being a soft spot and easy of digging, or whether mischievous 
 boys had contrived the whole matter as a trick upon pur- 
 chasers, Mr. and Mrs. Tripp were unable to determine. 
 
 The Tripps found it not easy to decide what to do with 
 their flour. Mrs. T. could never eat another spoonful of it, 
 she was sure, and Mr. T. was strongly indisposed to lose it. 
 Nor would the grocer take it back. 
 
 But a compromise was at last effected. The grocer was 
 induced to sell the Tripps another barrel at a liberal discount. 
 And the first barrel, every thing that was not strictly super- 
 fine having been dug out, and the vacancy refilled from the
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 249 
 
 second, its head having been replaced, and the Elder's address 
 marked upon its side in blacking, in order to disguise some 
 little traces of its use, the barrel, thus reformed, was devoted 
 to the support of the Gospel, as embodied in the person of 
 Elder Graynes ; " who," Mrs. Tripp argued, " would never 
 know the difference, and therefore it did not signify." 
 
 Mr. Blankes was the lawyer of Cone Cut Corners, and a 
 prominent man. A man of public spirit, he was also, as 
 prominent men in country towns, and in cities also, for that 
 matter, are not, always. 
 
 The deficiency in the subscription-list was not ascribable to 
 Mr. Blankes, for he himself subscribed fairly, and paid Ids sub- 
 scription promptly. When it proved that the amount raised 
 was going to fall short, he added a sum which ought to have 
 made some of the contiguous subscriptions blush like red ink, 
 not because it was so large, for it was not, but because they 
 were so small. And beyond this, he took the list and 
 went through the parish again, adding his personal exertions 
 to those of the parish committee. Very efficient exertions 
 they were, and the subscription was materially benefited by 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Blankes, therefore, rightly considered that it befitted 
 him to give the Elder a souvenir rather than a donation. So 
 he subscribed, in the Elder's name, to Harper's Magazine for 
 two years ; and when he entered the Elder's parlor, on Thurs- 
 day evening, he laid the first number, with the receipted bill 
 pinned inside, upon the table appropriated to the knickknncks 
 contributed to the support of the Gospel, as embodied in the 
 person of Elder Graynes, and a pleasant visitor it became at 
 the Elder's cottage. 
 
 11*
 
 250 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Mrs. Colonel Willick never once thought about the donation 
 party until the afternoon of the identical Thursday had arrived. 
 
 She declared she never was so careless in all her born days. 
 
 So putting on her bonnet, and telling Hannah to mind the 
 baby, and not let him eat too much, in which direction she 
 had reference to the youngest Willick, an infant traveler upon 
 the journey of life, now packing his little trunk with dough- 
 nuts to an extent which promised his being carried through 
 by very rapid stages, she set out for her husband's store, to 
 select a donation. 
 
 It was by no means a busy day with Colonel Willick, there 
 being nobody in the store except the Colonel himself, a ruddy- 
 faced, awkward lad employed by him as clerk and general as- 
 sistant, and a rustic-looking young man with a fur cap on, 
 and a long goadstick in his hand. The latter individual sat 
 by the stove, tipping back against the counter, and acting ap- 
 parently as contemplative visitor, rather than customer. 
 
 Mrs. Willick was by no means devoid of interest in her 
 husband's business prosperity, but she secretly rejoiced to find 
 him thus at leisure, for her errand was one which required 
 some connubial consultation. 
 
 And a long connubial consultation there was, conducted in 
 too low a voice for the ruddy-faced clerk and assistant to 
 overhear. A great quantity of goods of various sorts was 
 overhauled in search of a donation. At length Mrs. Willick 
 put her finger upon a piece of muslin de laine, which was 
 " exactly the thing," she insisted, with much vivacity, for a 
 dress for Mrs. Graynes. It was a piece of muslin de laine 
 which was so well suited to the Cone Cut taste, that the ladies 
 of the Corners and the surrounding country had selected
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 251 
 
 dresses from it, until there were now only eight yards and 
 three quarters left. It was what Colonel Willick had never 
 been willing to call a remnant, nor had the five or six ladies 
 to whom he had offered it at a discount, been quite satisfied 
 that it was a pattern. But it was exactly the thing for a dress 
 for Mrs. Graynes, waiving the trifling defect that as she was 
 rather tall, it was a matter of actual impossibility as it proved, 
 to make a dress out of it which she could wear. However, 
 the Willicks were carefully uncertain as to whether it might 
 not prove to be enough. The Colonel thought it would, and 
 Mrs. Willick hoped it might. At any rate, reasoned she, it 
 will pass for an accident, and after all, the will is as good as 
 the deed. 
 
 So the muslin de laine was rolled up in a brown paper, 
 and consecrated to the support of the Gospel, as embodied 
 in the person of Mrs. Elder Graynes. And Mrs. Willick 
 trudged homeward, congratulating herself upon her selec- 
 tion. 
 
 Mrs. Graynes also congratulated herself that same Thursday 
 evening upon the acquisition of a new dress ; and measured it 
 doubtfully on Friday, consulted Miss Provy Pease about it on 
 Saturday, tried to help thinking about it on Sunday, endeav- 
 ored, without success, to match it at Donoe's store on Monday, 
 (she did not feel quite like going to Willick's,) gave up the 
 idea of a new dress on Tuesday, and bargained it away on 
 Wednesday to the young girl who assisted her about her 
 house-work, for and in consideration of one dollar to be de- 
 ducted and reserved from the next monthly installment of her 
 wages, which fell due on Thursday. 
 
 Thus there was no slight difference between the value of
 
 252 COXE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 the donations as appraised, on behalf of the parish, and as 
 estimated on behalf of the Pastor. 
 
 Parish, Estimates. 
 
 Pastor's Etimate. 
 
 Donations in cash 950 Cash Donations 950 
 
 9 Loaves of cake at --5 cts. 2 25 j 5 Loaves of cake ) Eaten at tho 
 
 18 Pies at 10 cts. 130 4 Pies j Donation.... . 
 
 4 Loaves of cake at 5 c. ] Useful to 
 
 3 Pies at 10 c, J the Elder 1 3 .) 
 
 6 Pies, necessarily given away . . 
 
 1 Diamond Bible, very "neat," 
 " pretty," and " appropriate," ... 87 
 
 1 Barrel of flour, as valued by El- 
 der Graynes 10 00 
 
 Subscription to Monthly Magazine 
 for two jears 6 00 
 
 1 Dress for Mrs. Graynes 250 
 
 1 Bible. 
 
 1 Barrel of flour, as valued by Mr. 
 and Mrs. Tripp 
 
 Two years' subscription to Month- 
 ly Magazine 600 
 
 1 Dress for Debby Ann. 100 
 
 But we have forgotten Aunt Dannells' stockings. 
 
 The stockings which that lady knit to present to Elder 
 Graynes, are of course those referred to. 
 
 Aunt Dannells was almost eighty years of age. In a 
 pleasant dell, down on the old valley road, about three miles 
 from the village, there was a small yellow house, with an uii- 
 painted woodshed by its side, no fence in front, and a well- 
 sweep in the yard ; and there was where Aunt Dannells lived. 
 She had one son and three or four grandsons for next door 
 neighbors, and a pig and a little flock of turkeys for boarders. 
 
 Aunt Dannells was a widow. Twenty-five years ago her 
 husband came home from the hayfield in the middle of the 
 afternoon, overwearied said he was almost afraid he was 
 going to have a sick turn ate a little supper thought he 
 should feel better for a good night's sleep and early went to 
 bed. There were bright lights in the house all night, but dark- 
 ness pettled on it in the morning, for when the sun roso, thf
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 253 
 
 spirit of the husband and father ascended to another world. 
 Her hair was thin and gray then, and her step already weak ; 
 and she thought it would be but a short separation. But she 
 lived to see a quarter of a century pass away ; mature men 
 grew aged, and lads grew mature around her, and still she 
 waited. 
 
 Aunt Dannells was a mother. To rear her children was 
 her calling ; she had never known any wider sphere than this. 
 Her eight sons and her three daughters, were the work of her 
 life, and she felt her strength renewed in them. Her sons 
 filled high positions, and her daughters presided over popu- 
 lous households in their turn. Her grandchildren were enter- 
 ing upon active life in employments and homes of their own ; 
 or were standing expectant upon the verge of the paternal 
 threshold. And she had even great-grandchildren who were 
 old enough to know her. 
 
 Aunt Dannells had not accomplished much, as some judge 
 woman's work. She had written no books argued no causes 
 edited no paper taught no school. She had reared chil- 
 dren only, and the world was none the better for her, except so 
 far as it was the better for them. Among her sons indeed, 
 ono was a distinguished author, one the leading lawyer of his 
 State, one the editor of an influential city journal, two were 
 college professors. Their works were famous. Hers was hum- 
 ble. Whether to write to plead to edit to teach be 
 nobler works than hers, depends upon the question whether 
 books lawsuits newspapers school-lessons be better things 
 than human life. If no let not the mother's sphere be quite 
 forgotten yet. If yes then country-women be yours higher 
 aims and ends in life than hers.
 
 254 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 In country towns, those who toward the close of kind and 
 useful lives come to find their relatives scattered and them- 
 selves alone in life, are not uncommonly adopted into a uni- 
 versal relationship to all their neighbors. Thus it was, that 
 Mrs. Lydia Dannells became Aunt Dannells to all Cone Cut 
 Comers. 
 
 Aunt Dannells and her grandson rode slowly up through 
 the village, and up the hill that led to Elder Graynes.' Grand- 
 son jumped out to lighten the load for the horse. The horse 
 is probably to this day ignorant of his kindness. For any 
 lightening he accomplished, grandson might as well have 
 stopped in the sleigh. 
 
 Grandson turned the horse artistically up to the Elder's door. 
 Aunt Dannells sat still in the sleigh. 
 
 " I declare," said Mrs. Graynes, pushing the little chintz 
 curtain of the sitting-room window on one side, and peering out 
 to see who the new visitor might be ; " there 's Aunt Dannells. 
 Eben do go out and speak to her, the good soul can't get out 
 of the sleigh." 
 
 Elder Graynes laid down his book, rose from his seat, and 
 walked out to the sleigh, his study gown shivering behind 
 him in the cold wind. 
 
 " How do you do, Aunt Dannells ?" said he. " I 'm glad 
 to see you. Won't you come in ?" 
 
 " Do come in," said Mrs. Graynes from the door-step, hos- 
 pitably reenforcing her husband in his invitation. " Come in 
 and rest you a little, and get your foot-board warm." 
 
 The nephews and nieces of Aunt Dannells, whom she had 
 been accustomed to visit for some years past, knew very well 
 that it was her habit to provide against cold feet in her long
 
 CONE CUT CORNEES. 255 
 
 winter rides, by the primitive process of keeping them upon 
 a hot piece of plank, of convenient size to lay down in the 
 bottom of the sleigh. Her foot-board had often toasted its 
 browned sides before Mrs. Graynes' fire, leaning up against 
 the brass andirons. 
 
 " Not to-day," said Aunt Dannells ; " I 'm obleeged to you. 
 It 's 'most sundown, and I must be getting towards home. 
 But my boys told me," she continued, addressing the Elder, 
 " that you was a going to have a donation to-night." 
 
 " Yes," said the Elder, " my people have been very 
 thoughtful and kind ; I hope they will be repaid for all 
 they have done for me." 
 
 " Well, I 'm sure they have been," said Aunt Dannells ; 
 " you Ve been a hard-working man, and a faithful one ever 
 since you come to labor among us ; if ever there was one. 
 You've done more for us than ever we can do for you. But 
 the Lord keeps the accounts," she added, solemnly. 
 
 " I suppose your sons heard the notice given out in meet- 
 ing ?" said the Elder. 
 
 " Yes," said the old lady ; " I was n't out myself ; I have n't 
 been so I could really get out to meetin' since cold weather 
 set in." 
 
 " I know," said the Elder ; " we Ve missed you this win- 
 ter." 
 
 " It ain't because I don't love to come, you know," said 
 Aunt Dannells. " But my meetin' days in this world are 
 pretty nigh over. But I did n't want you to think I was too 
 old to remember my minister, so I thought I must knit you a 
 pair of stockin's." 
 
 And she took out from under the buffalo robe a small
 
 256 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 package, wrapped up in a fragment of newspaper, and handed 
 it to the Elder. 
 
 " Thank you, Aunt Dannells, thank you," said he, taking 
 the package. "JSobody understands stockings better than 
 you, I am sure." 
 
 " I 'in too old to come with the rest to-night," said Aunt 
 Dannells, " or I 'd have come and brought 'em then. My boy 
 Nathauiel is a going to come up with his wife, and he wanted 
 me to let him bring 'em ; but I thought I 'd rather come and 
 bring 'em myself. Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by." 
 
 The pastor shook hands with his aged parishioner, and 
 stepped back to the little white gate. 
 
 Grandson turned the horse artistically round, and started 
 him off down hill. 
 
 He was a horse with whom capers and pranks were sheer 
 impossibilities. Running away was a forgotten pastime of 
 his youth. Shying was an error not to be committed by an 
 animal of aged eyes like his. Has was the sedate, calm 
 temper of age. So grandson permitted him to ramble along 
 toward home, the reins hanging loosely over the dasher, while 
 the young driver cut crosses in the snow with his whip-lash, 
 till the road looked like the route of a Catholic procession. 
 
 There was not much conversation between youth and age. 
 Grandson was busy planning a skating excursion and a fire 
 on the ice. Grandmother's thoughts ran placidly, happily 
 back, over scenes in her life long past^ even as the Great 
 Traveler in the western sky, now on the very verge of the 
 horizon, turned from the course which lay before him, and 
 from his chariot of gold and fire, threw a smiling, loving
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 257 
 
 glance over the track of his completed journey across the 
 earth. 
 
 That evening there was a pleasant company at the Elder's. 
 
 There was also pleasant company in Gregory Donoe's store. 
 The gentlemen then and there assembled had been enjoying 
 themselves in their own peculiar ways, involving much anec- 
 dote, some profanity, and immense laughter. Captain May- 
 feme was giving his feet their last toasting for the night, at 
 the stove. A hot beverage in a stone pitcher was circulating 
 briskly in the crowd at the expense of the Captain, who had 
 lost a wager on the number of glasses which his friend Jerry 
 could drink at a sitting. Jerry having exceeded all anticipa- 
 tions, and disposed of seven consecutive drams, the Captain 
 had made good his word. He was now pulling on his boots, 
 which had lain near the ^stove most of the evening, while 
 Gregory, was putting up two packages for him. 
 
 " Sev'nglass-ses," said the Captain, " I knowaman candrink 
 mor'n sev'n-glasses. Mor'n sev'n." 
 
 The Captain spoke in a dialect adopted by the judicious 
 friends of Temperance in their most happy moments. It is a 
 dialect easier learned than understood. It may be acquired in 
 one easy lesson of five or six glasses ; but it can only be re- 
 corded by the use of the phonetic system of spelling, a style 
 which the reader, if he will take the trouble of trying the ex- 
 periment, will find sounds more intelligible than it looks. 
 
 " Who 's that, Captain ?" asked the storekeeper. 
 
 Gregory Donoe was a temperate man; he was a strictly 
 temperate man, by Deacon Ficksom's definition, " A man that 
 drinks with moderation." His physical nature was so much
 
 258 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 a machine, and so little human, that he justly prided himself 
 on being naturally fitted for " the business ;" for he could al- 
 ways take a friendly glass with a customer, and it never 
 seemed to get up as far as his head. 
 
 "Ill tell youoot-tis," returned the Captain, getting up 
 and steadying himself along the counter toward Oregon-, 
 "gimee those b-bottles." 
 
 " There," said Mr. Donoe, putting them in Mr. Mayferrie's 
 hands. 
 
 " How much ist-terbe ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I '11 charge it." 
 
 " No ! you 'ont charjiteither, olefeller, yourer lilltoo fass-sir, 
 too fass-sir. Howm-ucharthey. You've more lezherpaper 
 t' my name now, olefeller, anyou '11-ever-use-fer-kindlin'." 
 
 "One-fifty," said Gregory. 
 
 " I 've got summuney to-day, an' I '11 pay. Pay's you go, 
 b-boys. Allerspay syou go. Thasspoorichard. Bu' I know a 
 man 's can drink mor'n sev'n glas-s-ses. 'N'eell be sober, too. 
 S-ober's I am-mnow." 
 
 " Who is it ?" inquired the storekeeper, as he made change, 
 showing some interest in so valuable a customer as such a 
 man would be. 
 
 " Oh ? he 's-eesaman," returned the Captain, reaching the 
 door, and holding it open as he spoke, " oh-h-eesa-uh-you 
 knowim. Ee'sa man ; 'sa-man. Don't you knowoo-o'tis ? I '11 
 tell youootis. Ee'sa col'blooded, ir'nbone, grizzlemuscled, fish- 
 'arted m-man. Oweesaman. Za man erbiznez." 
 
 So saying, the Captain stumbled off the threshold, and 
 slammed the door after him. 
 
 From the hot and somewhat fragrant atmosphere of the
 
 C'ONE CUT CORNERS. 259 
 
 store into the fresh and stinging air of outer night, was a 
 wholesome change for the Captain; and he breathed more 
 freely, and walked with less uncertainty than he did within. 
 
 The winter night had settled down cold and clear upon 
 the village. The sun, which three hours since had set be- 
 neath the horizon, had already hatched out a magnificent 
 brood of little stars. The Captain took a look at their nest, 
 rubbed his eyes with his mittens, and toiled on up the hill. 
 It was slow work, walking up that hill. The snow was very 
 deep and soft, and the Captain's heavy feet sunk far at every 
 step. True, there was a path, but it was erratic. It was well 
 shoveled in other respects, but it had unexpected stumbling- 
 places in it, and it was crooked, and went on the wrong side 
 of trees, and the Captain preferred to walk straight. 
 
 In course of time, however, Mr. Mayferrie came opposite 
 Elder Graynes' front gate. It was very cold outside, and the 
 bright lights in all the windows attracted him. So he stop- 
 ped to rest, and look a few moments, and try to collect his 
 thoughts. He was not quite certain what he had been think- 
 ing about before, and he tried to remember. As he stood, 
 leaning on the gate, the pressure of one of the bottles in his 
 over-coat pocket, suggested a new topic. 
 
 " I '11 gowinside-sir," said he to himself, " an 'pay myr-res- 
 pecs' to th' ol' gen'leman. I I hav n't been t' meeting f-f-'-r 
 some time, an 'eel be gladerseeme." 
 
 "With this anticipation, he addressed himself to his purpose, 
 first by kicking very loud against the right gate-post to get the 
 snow off of one boot, and then against the left gate-post to get it 
 off the other. This process he repeated against the door- 
 posts, and then knocked. Instantly the door was opened by
 
 260 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 a young lady, one of that portion of the company who had 
 taken up their positions in the little entry between the two 
 parlors. 
 
 The Captain straightened himself up in view of "the 
 brightly-lighted rooms and array of people, smiled, said, " Goo'- 
 evening," took off his hat, and stepped in. 
 
 The entry was a little square room that opened on the left, 
 into the sitting-room, and on the right, into the parlor. 
 What part of it was not occupied by these doors now stand- 
 ing open, was filled by a table against the back-wall, and all 
 interstices and crevices remaining were crowded with ladies 
 and gentlemen of the youngest class, who had overflowed from 
 the crowd in the two rooms. 
 
 The Captain took off his hat and placed it upon the table, 
 crown down. Then he took out a bottle from his pocket and 
 placed it carefully in the hat; then he produced the other 
 bottle, and tried in vain to get that into the same receptacle. 
 This, amid profound silence of the young ladies and gentle- 
 men, who looked on in some wonder at his curious proceeding. 
 Finding that two large bottles would not go into one small 
 hat, he put one of them back into his left-hand coat-pocket, 
 where the neck of it stood out to hand, like the hilt of a 
 sword. He then turned around, smiled upon the young 
 people, peered around the door-posts, first into the parlor, 
 then into the sitting-room, then drew back, and smiled again. 
 
 " So theresum company eer ?" said he. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! Mr. Mayferrie," said one of the young ladies, 
 " it 's the donation party. Didn't you know it." 
 
 " Ah ! i'sthe d-donazhun-party ? Why there 's DeaconFick- 
 som in in there," said he, pointing into the parlor. " Ee'san
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 261 
 
 iceman. I did'n'no'erwaza donazhun-party. 'Stbat Elderg 
 Graynes ?" 
 
 The young people made no answer. Some of them were 
 laughing in the corners ; some of them had retreated out of 
 the entiy. 
 
 "I wanter see'm. I wanter see-e-El'ler. I like him. 
 He 'sa rich feller. No! he's-n'-t a rich-f-feller. He 'samin- 
 'ster. But 'eesa goo 'feller he 'sa firs' rate feller. I wanter 
 see 'm." 
 
 So saying, the Captain entered the parlor. 
 
 As lie entered, the buzz of conversation around the room 
 was hushed. All those on the right wondered what it was 
 that brought the Captain here. All those on the left saw the 
 contents of the pocket, and guessed what it was. 
 
 The Deacon was in the corner by the window. He had 
 come to contribute his countenance he brought nothing 
 more to the support of the Gospel, as embodied in the per- 
 son of Elder Graynes. As the Captain entered, the Deacon 
 looked up to him with a countenance that spoke volume after 
 volume of temperance tracts, of the old style. 
 
 Mr. Donoe was by the side of the Deacon. He came up 
 with the sleigh for Mrs. Donoe, overtaking and passing the 
 Captain upon the hill. He had just come in, and though a 
 somewhat unexpected visitor, yet had seated himself very 
 deliberately, contiguous to the refreshment-table. For Mr. 
 Donoe was one of those men who are of such length of moral 
 limb, that they attempt to walk with one foot in the broad 
 road, and one in the narrow path. During the day he had taken 
 a long stride in the popular thoroughfare ; to-night he had 
 come in to take a little step in the less-frequented v.ay.
 
 262 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Mr. Donoe and the Deacon were discussing, in a high moral 
 tone, the aggravated case of Jerry Bender, the red-nosed man, 
 who in consequence, as Mr. Donoe said, of sheer shiftlessness, 
 was about to come upon the town as a pauper. The Deacon 
 was expressing his views of the shamelessness of a man who 
 would allow himself to be, not only an evil example, but 
 a pecuniary burden to his fellow-citizens, when the Captain 
 entered the room. 
 
 At his appearance the gentlemen in the corner dropped 
 their discussion. Elder Graynes turned around from the mid- 
 dle of a monologue of gratitude addressed to Mr. Tripp, which 
 that gentleman in the weakness of his nature was quite 
 uncomfortably affected by, and visibly confused to receive. 
 There was a rush from the other room, and heads rose on 
 heads, in the door-way. The ladies looked at each other with 
 eyes elongated down into exclamation points, and short gen- 
 tlemen in the background looked between the heads of tall 
 gentlemen before them, to see what was going on. Salanda, 
 in a far corner of the room, surrounded by several members 
 of her Sabbath-school class who would not think of sitting 
 apart from her, looked for some way of escape, but finding 
 none, hid her face in her handkerchief, and instinctively 
 crouched behind the others. The store-keeper folded his 
 hands before him, and raised his eyes ; whether in silent devo- 
 tion or in contemplation of the wall-paper, did not appear 
 from their expression. The ex-deacon turned upon the assem- 
 bly a look that embodied a whole volume of warnings, stereo- 
 typed the work, and kept it before the people. 
 
 All this in a moment. 
 
 The Elder saw the cause of the disturbance, and the nature
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 263 
 
 of it, at once. He went up to the Captain and received his 
 offered hand. 
 
 " I 'm very glad to see you," said he, mildly. " Walk into 
 the other room and take off your coat ;" and he moved gently 
 to turn the Captain toward the sitting-room. 
 
 " Nozir ; nozir ; thank you zir," said the Captain, smiling 
 very much upon the Elder, and opening his eyes very wide 
 upon those who were staring at him. " I 'm 'bliged nozir. 
 Ve'y much 'bliged. Doan trouble your-s-self. I haven' come 
 feet I haven' come t'eet any thing. Why ! There 's Donoe. 
 How-d'-ye-e doDonoe ?" 
 
 Mr. Donoe, making no reply, the Captain looked very hard 
 at him. 
 
 " Zthat Donoe or 'z that z' Deacon ? No, 'ts I see 'ts two 
 Deacons. I see 'm. I see 'm plain. 'T 's two D-deacons. 
 He 's been drinking andees besidimself." 
 
 " I 'x-pect tyou did n't 'xpect tsee m-me t' night ? But 
 'sadonazhun. I Ve brought a donazhun. 'Ts a little one 
 little-^but-z-z good." 
 
 With these words, or more properly syllables, the Captain 
 fumbled in his pockets for his bottle, beginning with his waist- 
 coat pockets, and searching his person thoroughly. At last he 
 found it where he had put it, and producing it with chuckling 
 and triumph, he held it out to the Elder. 
 
 " There," said he. 'Ts a little donazhun. Butz firs'rate." 
 
 "Miss'r F-ficks'm." 
 
 No answer. ' 
 
 " Miss'r Fick-s-som." 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " He 's deaf. But eenozeits-s good. It 's jus-same as ee
 
 264 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 uses. It 's Co-oannyack. Tha's real Co-oannyack," repeated 
 he, smiling, and holding the bottle up to the light before the 
 Elder. " Iz jusswat I buy, 'nd 'tz jusswat er Deacon buys. 
 Z' Deacon 'n I alwz buy t'gether. 'Ey Donoe ?" 
 
 The Elder, assisted this time by one or two gentlemen, re- 
 newed his effort to lead the Captain away. They succeeded 
 in getting him near the door, when he broke away from them 
 and returned to the middle of the room. 
 
 " Take a little little, eve'y day. Z' Bible says so. Z' Dea- 
 con says so. Z' good. There," continued he, placing the bot- 
 tle on the table by the side of Mrs. Buxton's Bible. " But 
 doan' let 'm drink 't all up. Miss'r Donoe k'n drink mor'n 
 sev'n glasses. Eesa man eesa maner bizness. Z' Deacon 'sa 
 man. Eesa good man." 
 
 " D'ye think as you k'n drink sev'n glasses. Z' Deacon can, 
 n' Donoe can. Sev'n 'n 'sev'n' z fourteen fourteen glasses. 
 So better not-t-open it till they're gone." 
 
 " Goo' night ladies 'n' gen'lem'n. Goo' night." 
 
 "With this the Captain gently freed himself from the assist- 
 ance of those around him, walked straight at the clock, turned 
 short around just before he reached it, and went off at an an- 
 gle toward the door, where he was lost in the crowd. And 
 then considering that he had acquitted himself of his share in 
 the donation, he bowed himself out, took his hat and the re- 
 maining bottle, and went away. 
 
 From thence to Captain Mayferrie's home was a long mile. 
 He traveled slowly, stopped often on the way, and the remain- 
 ing bottle was somewhat lightened of its contents when he 
 reached the house.
 
 XXII. 
 
 JULY, 1852. 
 
 "Well, Sa- 
 landa," said the 
 Captain, inter- 
 rupting him- 
 self in a 
 
 pull at a cigar, which, by special leave of Aunt Provy, 
 he was smoking, as he was seated, one moonlight evening, 
 on the little piazza at the back of her little house. 
 12
 
 266 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Well," said Salanda, in a delightful liiile feminine echo. 
 
 The Captain took another vigorous pull at the cigar, and 
 Avanted to know what Salanda was thinking about. 
 
 Then there was a short pausj, in which the moon, peeping 
 through the woodbine and honeysuckle of the piazza, winked 
 through the leaves, as if she thought the Captain was Jason. 
 It was not such a ridiculous mistake, either ; considering how 
 frequently this came little piazza of Aunty Pease's enjoyed 
 that young gentleman's company, on pleasant nights. 
 
 " I was thinking, sir," said Salanda, speaking slowly and 
 gently, though without hesitation, " I was thinking if I could 
 not get a school some where this fall, to teach." x 
 
 The Captain puffed a wreath of smoke at two musquitos, 
 who were serenading him in duet, and watched their voices 
 out of hearing in the distance. 
 
 " Why, Salanda ! What do you want to teach for ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " I should like to, because I have been studying a good 
 while now, and I think I ought to be doing something for 
 myself." 
 
 " For yourself?" said the Captain. 
 
 " To maintain myself, I mean. I thank Aunt Provy daily 
 for her care ; she has done every thing for me ; but " 
 
 "Well," said the Captain again, after a long conference 
 with his cigar, from which, during the whole conversation, he 
 seemed to receive many useful suggestions, and constant 
 support and sympathy, ' I think you might do very well to 
 teach ; very well indeed ; I'm sure your scholars would." 
 
 " Do you think I could get a school '?" inquired Salanda. 
 
 " Yes ; oh, yes ; but I don't think it 's quite time for that
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 267 
 
 yet. I suppose you Ve about got to the end of Mr. Blossom's 
 learning." 
 
 " Why, I am studying pretty much by myself now." 
 
 " Oh, I understand," said the Captain, " you study the les- 
 son, and then you go and explain it to him, and he calls it 
 reciting, I suppose." 
 
 Salanda laughed, and shook back the curls which had 
 fallen in the way of her work. 
 
 She was at that moment arranging oak leaves and sprigs 
 of evergreen, upon a strip of sheeting of appropriate length, to 
 form the word " INDEPENDENCE," which was to adorn the 
 pulpit of the Cone Cut Academy on the occasion of Esquire 
 Clegge's Fourth of July oration, which was to be delivered on 
 Monday, the day after to-morrow. 
 
 The Captain had heard that a motto was desired, and had 
 come down with a wagon-load of the required foliage, gather- 
 ed by his own hands from the woods about his house. His 
 zeal in this regard must not be attributed entirely to patriotic 
 sentiments, or to enthusiasm for the public entertainment. 
 He had heard that Salanda was intrusted with the duty of 
 preparing the device, and it was more out of simple pleasure 
 in assisting her, than from any other motive, that his share in 
 the labor had been performed. 
 
 Salanda twisted around into its place the sprig of cedar, 
 which she was patiently training into the shape and meaning 
 of the letter D, and laughed again as she thought of the Cap- 
 tain's notion of the course of instruction in the higher 
 branches, enjoyed by the pupils of the Cone Cut Academy. 
 
 " Yes," said the Captain, " I think you might do very well 
 to teach, very well indeed. But would n't it be a good idea
 
 268 C O N E C U T C O R N E R S . 
 
 for you to go away to school some real school for a year 
 first ? Say some school in New York ?" 
 
 "Oh, I wish I could," said Salanda, enthusiastically. 
 "Wouldn't it be grand?" 
 
 The Captain took his cigar from his mouth, and puffed a 
 cloud of smoke into the air. He watched it as it slowly dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I guess we can fix that." 
 
 " How do you mean 1" asked Salanda. 
 
 The Captain puffed away, without answering, until he had 
 enveloped himself in a little atmosphere of smoke. He 
 seemed to feel renewed assurance and hopefulness in it. 
 
 " I guess we can find a school," he said. 
 
 " Ah, that is n't so difficult as it is to find the schooling," 
 said Salanda. 
 
 The Captain puffed away in silence again, while Salanda 
 waited to hear his views in respect to that difficulty. 
 
 " Well," said he, at length, " I guess we can find that too. 
 You see what Aunt Provy thinks about the plan. Perhaps 
 she can lend you some money. If she approves, I think you 
 had better go this fall." 
 
 "What!" said Salanda, "really and truly? Go to New 
 York to school ? How can I ever thank " 
 
 " There, be quiet," said Captain Mayferrie, interrupting her. 
 " You 're a true woman, you are. I should know that, the 
 minute you speak. You jump at a conclusion over a gap 
 that it would take a common man's mind a month to bridge 
 with reasons, and then he 'd be afraid of it. There 's Aunt 
 Provy come to call you in. What a dear good old prudent 
 soul she is."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 260 
 
 " Salanda," cried Aunt Provy, opening the window, " you '11 
 catcli your death a cold out there in this night air, and with 
 nothing on your head too." 
 
 " Good evening, Miss Pease," said the Captain. 
 
 " Ah, is that you ?" responded Aunt Provy. " I wonder at 
 you, Captain Mayferric, letting her stay out here so late. 
 You 're as bad as Jason." 
 
 " Nonsense," said the Captain. " What 's the harm. There 
 is n't air enough to hurt a musquito." 
 
 " Perhaps not," responded Aunt Provy. " But there is 
 enough to hurt her." 
 
 " Well, Avell," said the Captain, " I must be going, any way. 
 I Ve got some business at the village before I go home." 
 
 So saying, he tossed his cigar over the railing, and stretched 
 himself erect. 
 
 " Not at Gregory Donoe's," said Salanda, softly, laying her 
 hand upon his shoulder and looking him in the face. 
 
 "Why, yes, my dear, I am afraid at Gregory Donoe's. 
 What 's the matter with him. He 's a good man, is n't he ?" 
 
 " I 'm afraid he is n't a very good friend to you," said Sa- 
 landa, with hesitation. 
 
 " Come, come, Salanda," said Aunt Provy. " What con- 
 spiracy arc you plotting out there against me." 
 
 And Aunt Provy laughed at the idea of any body's con- 
 spiring against her, as the most delightfully absurd joke in the 
 world which it was. , 
 
 " There, run along," said the Captain. 
 
 " And you ?" said Salanda, inquiringly. 
 
 " I I am no I ain't ; I 'in going straight home," replied 
 the Captain, surrendering.
 
 270 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 Salanda said this better with her eyes than with her lips. 
 
 The Captain bade her good night, and jumped over the 
 railing into the yard, by way of making a resolute start, to go 
 home ; while Salanda went into the house. 
 
 It was not until the evening of the next day that Salanda 
 communicated the substance of her conversation with the 
 Captain to Miss Provy Pease. 
 
 " Aunt," said she then, to her, " what a strange man Mr. 
 Mayferrie is. Don't you think so ?" 
 
 " Why, I don't know as he is," replied Aunt Provy. " They 
 are all queer more or less. Now there 's Deacon Ficks ." 
 
 " But I mean it 's strange he should be here so much and 
 talk so much about me, and have so much to say to me. 
 You know that beautiful new shawl he gave me last winter, 
 and now he wants to pay for me at school somewhere, this 
 winter, I believe. I can't see what he should want to do it 
 for. That is what puzzles me." 
 
 " Why I don't know as there is any thing mysterious in 
 him," responded Aunt Provy. " He is n't the only one who 
 comes here much, and as to the shawl, I am sure it isn't 
 any handsomer than the gold pin somebody gave you to fasten 
 it with, and " 
 
 "Oh, that's different," said Salanda. " Besides, I was n't 
 talking about Jason. I don't want to know about him. I 
 want to know about Mr. Mayferrie." 
 
 " What about him ? I don't see as he 's a bit more myste- 
 rious than Jason. Why now he 's carried you out to ride 
 four times this week." 
 
 "Oh, no, only three, Aunt."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 27l 
 
 " Why,' yes, my dear. There was last night then the ride 
 Wednesday then you went with him up to the hill Monday 
 and he brought you home from church Sunday." 
 
 "But that don't count just coming home from church. 
 Besides, the Captain was there, or at least it was his horse and 
 wagon. And I 'm sure Jason asked you to go." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Aunt Provy, " that 's all very well. And 
 he was veiy glad when I did n't." 
 
 "Well, no matter about Jason," said Salanda, having 
 apparently no great objection, after all, to being worsted in 
 the discussion of this question ; " I want to know about Mr. 
 Mayferrie. I do really wish aunt you would tell me about 
 Mr. Mayferrie." 
 
 " Tell you what, child ? How should I know ?" 
 
 Salanda made no answer. She left the question, and 
 commenced anew. 
 
 " What makes you think my mother was a Chesslebury ?" 
 
 " She told me so," said Aunt Provy. 
 
 " I wonder where she came from," said Salanda, thinking 
 aloud, rather than talking to her aunt. " Poor mother. How 
 you ever came that cold night to wander straight to such a 
 home as this ! Did you ever know where she came from V 
 
 " She was n't in her right mind, my dear, and could n't tell." 
 
 " And you never asked ?" said Salanda, reproachfully. 
 
 "Who was there to ask?" said Aunt Provy. 
 
 " And you never knew where she was going, or what she 
 was going after ?" 
 
 "How should I? She never could tell. She talked 
 crazily of her John and her treasure. That was all." 
 
 " Are you certain it was Chesslebury. I mean to tell
 
 272 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Jason about it some time. I never did. Maybe *he would 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, no, I would n't say any thing to Jason about her," 
 said Aunt Provy. " That would n't be a good plan, I don't 
 think. Besides, he would n't know any thing about it. He 
 was nothing but a little baby. Most likely it '& another Ches- 
 slebury, too. Oh, no, I would n't ask him." 
 
 This conversation was in a low tone ; Salanda's share 
 indeed almost in whispers. And there were long pauses of 
 solemn stillness as the two sat knitting in the darkening 
 twilight. 
 
 " Captain Mayferrie came the summer before, didn't he P 
 asked Salanda. 
 
 " Yes !" 
 
 " Mayferrie. Mayferrie. I wonder if that is his real name. 
 What was he captain of ?" 
 
 "The story was, he was captain of a privateersman,'' 
 replied Aunt Provy, who believed in his captaincy as firmly 
 as any one in the village, and who, in the age of his title, 
 forgot its origin. 
 
 "Let me see. It was John mother talked about?" said 
 Salanda, inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes," returned Aunt Provy. 
 
 " Is n't that Captain Mayferrie's first name ?" asked 
 Salanda. 
 
 " John John. I believe it is," said Aunt Provy, with a 
 most wonderful pretense of having a great deal of doubt upon 
 the subject 
 
 " I mean to ask Jason some time," said Salanda, " if there 
 was not a John Chesslebury."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 2*73 
 
 This conversation ended as indefinitely as twenty similar 
 ones had ended before. But as Salanda went up to her room 
 she had a half-formed suspicion which she dared not confess, 
 even to herself. As she knelt before her heavenly Father that 
 night, she prayed long and earnestly that He would guide her 
 to her earthly father. As she arose, she arose with a deter- 
 mination to discover, if it were possible, who he was. In the 
 darkness she began to revolve plans for carrying that deter- 
 mination into effect ; and she tried to recollect her conver- 
 sations with Captain Mayferrie, and what he had said to her, 
 and did he look any thing like her, and was his name Ches- 
 slebury, if so, was not Jason a relative of his, and if so, how 
 near, and who was his father, not John, oh no, not John ; but 
 there was a John somewhere, and she was going after him in 
 the snow, and then there was a beautiful lady dressed in 
 white in snow, that was it who was with her, and was 
 no, it was Aunt Provy who was carrying her to New York to 
 school to learn to find her father ; and there he was in the 
 barn thrashing, and she was introduced to him, and he shook 
 her warmly by the hand, and congratulated her for some- 
 thing, and she turned round to ask Aunt Provy what for, and 
 Aunt Provy was Jason, and the barn Avas a church, and Cap- 
 tain Mayferrie was the Elder, and she was trembling so 
 violently, that even Jason's arm could not altogether steady 
 hor, and the church bells were ringing merrily, and and 
 and the sun was shining brightly into her room, and Aunt 
 Provy was ringing the first bell, as she always did, as 
 regularly as the clock-hands pointed to six o'clock, whether 
 every body were up and wide awake or no. 
 
 12*
 
 ^ 
 
 274 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Just at the time when Aunt Provy's bell forbade the banns 
 at Salanda's wedding, Mrs. Graynes went up to Jason's room to 
 awaken him. 
 
 " Jason ! Jason ! come, get up, Jason !" cried she, calling 
 through the key-hole of his chamber door. 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Come, get up, Jason !" continued she, rattling the door. 
 " He always sleeps so light, too," she continued, soliloquizing, 
 and stooping down to peer through the key-hole, " I should 
 think, of all mornings in the year, he would be awake this." 
 
 So saying, Mrs. Graynes gently opened the door a crack, 
 then widened the crack to a considerable opening, then threw 
 the door wide open and walked in ; for the room was de- 
 serted. 
 
 " He 's up before me, I declare," said she. 
 
 So saying she threw the bed-clothes back over the foot- 
 board of the bedstead, hung over the back of a chair Jason's 
 every-day suit which he had^deposited on the floor, picked up 
 a pin which her careful eye discerned upon-the carpet, opened 
 the window, and leaned out to take a breath of fresh air and a 
 view of Cone Cut Corners by sunrise. 
 
 The village was now wide awake. The Cone Cut cannon 
 had been carrying on an animated Conversation with the hills 
 for some time past, and still kept it up. The academy bell 
 had wagged its tongue incessantly ever since four o'clock. In 
 the road, and on the paths, and scattered about the yards, lay 
 the bursted bodies of patriotic fire-crackers, in numbers suffi- 
 cient, one would think, to celebrate the Fortieth of July, if 
 that uncommon anniversary should ever arrive, let alone the 
 annually-recurring Fourth. And constantly a meritorious
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 275 
 
 horse-pistol, in tbo yard of Gregory Donoe's tavern, exhibited 
 a perseverance in well-doing amidst a very evil report, which 
 was worthy to be a pattern and example to the Cone Cutters 
 from that day forward. 
 
 " Mercy on me !" said Mrs Graynes, " what a racket al- 
 ready." 
 
 And she shut down the window, and went down stairs. If 
 she could have seen Jason at the moment, she would have 
 perceived him standing upon a ladder erected in the church, 
 by the side of the pulpit, nailing up the oak and evergreen 
 motto which Salanda had prepared for the occasion. * 
 
 The cannon which had awakened Jason so early this morn- 
 ing did not produce a like effect upon Captain Mayferrie. He 
 slept through all the noise of the noisy morning, nor did he 
 show any signs of wakefulness, until nearly eight o'clock. To 
 be sure his house was somewhat removed from the village, and, 
 moreover, in his military career, he might have become accus- 
 tomed to noises which awaken more peacefully-employed 
 men. But at all events, whatever might have been the reason, 
 it was late before Captain Mayferrie came to any sense of In- 
 dependence. 
 
 At length, however, from very weariness of sleep, he began 
 to awake, and after one or two uneasy tossings, half opening, 
 half shutting his eyes, he gave a desperate yawn, and sat up 
 in bed. 
 
 " It must be pretty late," said he ; " I guess I '11 get up." 
 
 And then he did what all men do under similar circum- 
 stances he did not get up at all, but sat still thinking 
 about it. 
 
 " J declare," said he at length, running his fingers through
 
 276 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 his hair, and brushing it off his forehead, " it was bad enough, 
 Charlotte, for you to drink yourself to death to begin with, 
 without bothering me this way after you 're dead." 
 
 At length he got fairly out of bed. His first proceeding 
 then was to refresh himself by a drink from a suspicious-look- 
 ing bottle, standing upon the mantle-piece. The refreshment 
 seemed effectual, for he straightened himself up in a military 
 fashion, struck himself two or three smart blows on the chest, 
 went through a boxing match with an imaginary foe, and, 
 having vanquished him, went to the window to look out. 
 
 The prospect was not as pleasant as was the same prospect 
 out of that same window ten years ago. The gate had fallen 
 off its hinges, and stood leaning up against the fence. The 
 whitewash had been beaten off in streaks by the rain, and 
 had left the fence a dirty white. In one place, too, some cat- 
 tle had broken in, to get at the Captain's corn, and the gap 
 had never been mended. As the Captain unfastened the 
 blind to swing it back, the hinge it only hung on one gave 
 way, and the blind fell with a crash to the ground. 
 
 " Go it, old boy," said he. 
 
 He looked around, as if for something to throw after it. 
 But the other blind was already down, so he contented him- 
 self with looking at it. 
 
 " I believe Calick was right," said he. " I am going to the 
 devil as fast as she did." 
 
 And then he went back and took another drink from the 
 bottle on the mantle-piece. 
 
 Calick had left Captain Mayferrie's. It was the town talk 
 when he first left, for Galick and the Captain had always been 
 warm friends. But as Calick kept his own counsel, and never
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 277 
 
 assigned, even to his aunt, any other reason for his leaving 
 than that the Captain did not need him any longer, the town 
 in the usual time came to talk no more about it. 
 
 Martha had gone away too. And Martha's place was filled 
 by Mrs. Spyke. 
 
 Mrs. Spyke was a lady who had seen and felt some forty 
 winters ; and they had frozen her. She was extremely 
 frigid. She had a cold head, a cold heart, cold hands, and a 
 long and evidently cold nose. She was crooked also ; she 
 had a crook in her shoulders, a crook in her chin, and a nose 
 all crook. She was cross-eyed, cross-visaged, and cross- 
 worded. How she ever succeeded in attaching herself to 
 Captain Mayferrie, had been the town talk too, but the usual 
 buzz having taken place, and nothing having been found out, 
 the village left Mrs. Spyke and Captain Mayferrie alone, and 
 talked of other things. 
 
 This morning, Captain Mayferrie, having finished his toilet, 
 went down stairs, and there found Mrs. Spyke sitting by the 
 kitchen fire, warming her cold hands, and rubbing her cold 
 nose, and watching some cold beans left at dinner yesterday, 
 and carefully economised for this morning's breakfast. 
 
 " Good morning to you, Mrs. Spyke," said Captain May- 
 ferrie. 
 
 " No, it 's not a good morning to me, either," said Mrs. 
 Spyke, with about the same amiability of tone and manner 
 that a cat usually assumes when engaged in familiar conver- 
 sation with a dog, " and it 's no use saying it is. I expect 
 to have my head blowed off before night. I always do, 
 Fourth of July." 
 
 Mr. Mayferrie's countenance probably expressed some re-
 
 278 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 gret at this annually-recurring catastrophe, for the good lady 
 added : 
 
 " You know what I mean. I always expect to." 
 
 " Oh !" said Mr. Mayferrie. 
 
 The temperature of the chilly beans having been by this 
 time somewhat raised, Mrs. Spyke placed them upon the table, 
 which was already set, and they sat down to breakfast. 
 
 It "was a very different breakfast from that which Calick 
 and Martha shared with the Captain, in December, 1835. 
 
 By the time Mr. Mayferrie got through his morning meal 
 it was nearly nine o'clock. The noisy patriotism of Cone Cut 
 Corners had for a time somewhat subsided. The cannon had 
 spent its breath, and had been wheeled back into the gun- 
 house again. 
 
 And now the farmers' wagons begin to come in from the 
 surrounding country, in long procession. Old farmers come, 
 bringing their -wives and children, the two boys there are 
 always two boys in these wagons sitting in the back of the 
 wagon, with their legs dangling out behind. Young farmers 
 come with their well, say cousins, every wagon bringing 
 two young ladies and one young man. All the young ladies are 
 in unmitigated white ; all the young men in unmitigated black ; 
 and all the boys with clean faces and smoothly-sleeked hair, 
 and the broadest possible turn-down collars, and altogether 
 looking very nice, and feeling very strange by reason of hav- 
 ing on their veiy best suits in the week time. 
 
 Now passes a hay-cart fitted up for the occasion, loaded 
 with merry fellows from Cone Cut Hill, who bring Captain 
 Mayferrie to the window with their shouts as they rattle down 
 the road. New comes a baker's cart jogging along, for Cone
 
 COXE CUT CORNERS. 279 
 
 Cut Corners furnishes a good market for gingerbread to-day. 
 And then the procession goes on again unbroken, of white 
 dresses and streaming ribbons, and stiff young men sitting 
 gingerly in ladies' laps, and mammas on the front seats of 
 wagons carefully holding on by the coat-collar to sprucely- 
 dressed boys sitting in behind. 
 
 And now the academy bell which slept at breakfast-time 
 sometime before the Captain's breakfast wakes up again; 
 for Esquire Clegge, the village lawyer, delivers the Fourth of 
 July oration to-day in the Cone Cut Meeting-house. Now 
 the farmers, leaving their companions in the meeting-house, 
 proceed to make their horses comfortable by tying them with 
 long ropes to the fence, and putting under each of their re- 
 spective noses a bushel basket of fresh grass, produced from 
 under the wagon seat. Now the people from the village 
 come hurrying in. Now the gentlemen who came early, and 
 got front seats, rise to give them to ladies who came late, and 
 got no seat at all ; and gentlemen who came not so early, and 
 got back seats, congratulate themselves on their position. 
 Now, the church being full, every seat occupied, the aisles 
 and doorways crowded with gentlemen, the very windows 
 filled with boys who clamber in and out during the oration, 
 the performances begin. 
 
 These are of the usual description. 
 
 There is first a highly oratorical reading of the Dec- 
 laration of Independence by Deacon Ficksom. There is 
 next a grand performance of sublime choruses and imprac- 
 ticable glees selected from the North American Feathered 
 Songster, every one of which ends with a tra-la-la-la ; and this 
 performance attracts great attention, inasmuch as the choir
 
 280 COKE CCT CORNERS. 
 
 is increased to-day by the addition of a flute and a violin, 
 who on Sunday attend a neighboring church. There is, over 
 and above all these, a patriotic and spirit-stirring oration by 
 Esquire Clegge, which may be described in brief to be the 
 spirit of 1776 in bottles of 1852, and in which the orator 
 gives his hearers, as something novel, a general review of the 
 history of our Revolution, with copious extracts from cotem- 
 poraneous writers in general, and the Declaration of Independ- 
 ence in particular, together with a sketch of the subsequent 
 rise and progress of the United States under the Federal Gov- 
 ernment, and a full exposition of its present greatness and 
 glory ; in the whole of which address the orator says much 
 about the liberties established by our forefathers in 1776, 
 but carefully abstains from making any, even the most dis- 
 tant allusion to the feet that there might be some liberties 
 which it was desirable should be cared for by their sons 
 in 1852. 
 
 The exercises at length being concluded very much to every 
 one's satisfaction, the audience crowds its way out, the ladies 
 crushed and crumpled, the gentlemen tired and hungry, the 
 boys merry and noisy, the Deacon sleepy and thirsty, and the 
 orator elate and modest. 
 
 Aunt Provy and Salanda are among the last to leave the 
 church, for Calick is sexton, and has to shut up the house 
 after the audience has left. They wait for him in the porch, 
 and the three go home together. There is no side-walk to 
 the Cone Cut streets, and they walk in the beaten-track in the 
 middle of the road. 
 
 " What an eloquent speaker Squire Clegge is, don't you 
 think so ?" said Aunt Provy. " His language is so easy and
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS.. 281 
 
 flowing, and he has such large ideas of things I mean such 
 general ideas." 
 
 " I don't know," said Salanda, " I don't know but he had 
 general ideas. I did not think he had any ideas in particu- 
 lar." 
 
 " Why, Salanda, I am sure he had very large ideas ; about 
 liberty, and er glory and er all those things you know. 
 It was very fine I thought. Only I wish he did n't wear his 
 handkerchief in his coat-tail pocket. Do you like to see a 
 man wear his handkerchief in his coat-tail pocket? Don't 
 you think it looks a great deal better to wear it in one's breast- 
 pocket. It looks so grace %" 
 
 " Hi yi !" shouted some one from the side of the road, 
 " Out of the way." 
 
 Aunt Provy screamed at the top of her voice and that 
 was pretty high up too, and, clutching Salanda, attempted to 
 run in one direction, while Salanda tried to escape in the 
 other. 
 
 There was a gig coming down the road at a rapid pace. 
 A gig with wheels so large, and body so little, that it looked 
 all wheels and no body. The driver pulled up his horse just 
 in time to avoid running over Aunt Provy ; and he did this 
 so suddenly that he had to catch hold of the back of the seat 
 to save himself from being thrown head foremost. 
 
 It was Captain Mayferrie. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, ladies," said he, rising in his seat and 
 bowing to them. " Really I was not aware that the meeting 
 was out. Salanda, won't you ride home ?" 
 
 Salanda wondered how she was expected to get up there, 
 and where it was supposed she was to sit when she got there.
 
 282 C'ONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 But she did not ask ; she thanked the Captain, and declined 
 his offer. 
 
 Then the Captain, touching his hat to the ladies, gathered 
 up his reins, and started up the horse ; and the gig in a mo- 
 ment was whirling down the hill in a cloud of dust, while 
 Calick, Aunt Provy and Salanda went on toward home.
 
 XXIII. 
 
 JULY, 1852. 
 
 AT home, and dinner over, Aunt Provy and Salanda began 
 to prepare for the picnic. For there was to be a Sabbath- 
 school picnic that afternoon, in a romantic spot, a favorite 
 with the young people of the village. Their preparations 
 consisted of packing the most inviting of all the tempting pro- 
 ductions of Aunt Provy's kitchen in large baskets for Calick 
 to bring, and in small baskets for Aunt Provy and Salanda to 
 carry. 
 
 These arrangements having been completed, the ladies put 
 on their sun-bonnets, and declared to Calick that they were 
 ready to go.
 
 284 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 The location of the picnic was about a mile below the vil- 
 lage ; that is to say, only a mile if you go in a straight line 
 across the fields, as bees go to a flower-garden, or boys and 
 girls to a wood-frolic ; but tlien if you go round by the road 
 a country road the way men go with beasts of burden, it 
 was a mile and three quarters, and a stretch at that. - 
 
 The picnic ground was in the woods among the rocks 
 by the water. 
 
 The woods \^ere such glorious old woods that nobody who 
 had a soul would have dared to cut them down. It might be 
 deemed certain that that was the reason they were never in- 
 terfered with by the villagers, if we knew that Gregory 
 Donoe, and perhaps Deacon Ficksom, had no interest in the 
 land they blessed. They were not the ugly, thick set woods, 
 full of brambles snarling at each other, and bigger trees that 
 ought to know better pitching into each other in every direc- 
 tion. They were not the second growth, those most" un- 
 combed and uncomely locks that disfigure the face of nature. 
 They were glorious old woods, where the trees looked as if 
 they had got up above this world, and were going on, arm in 
 arm, toward heaven. Up there are the places where the wood- 
 robin sings very early in the freshness of the morning ; Salan- 
 da knows it. There, too, is the singing-gallery of a bird who' 
 chants only when she fancies herself alone, and then, never 
 but one tune, and that a slow, deliberate and careful one, 
 almost mournful, were it not that it is so beautiful, so musical 
 in its simple interval, and so loud and clear of tone. Salanda 
 never knew this bird's name, nor could she learn it ; but she 
 often came to hear its music, and in these very woods too. 
 The woods were not beset with underbrush, but clear and
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 285 
 
 free ; and from the carpet of brown leaves away up to the 
 canopy of green, there was nothing to obstruct the view, or 
 hinder the wanderings of the cool breezes, whose milder dis- 
 positions led them to seek this haunt on sweltering days, and 
 play gently in the shade. 
 
 It was among the rocks, too. Gray old boulders, peeping 
 out under the leaves here and there. Noble stones for seats, 
 these, and now and then larger ones appropriated sometimes 
 by the young people for picnic tables. Then as one wander- 
 ed further from the stream, they peered out of the hillside be- 
 tween the trees ; the solid underpinning of a mountain. 
 
 These things were all very well for the girls and romantic 
 people, as Jason said, but the real beauty of the place was the 
 brook. It was " a great brook," according to the opinion of 
 that young gentleman. But the unsophisticated reader must 
 not infer that it was a large brook. It was great, not in size, 
 but in contents. It was a multum of trout in a parvo of water. 
 It rose in little springs upon the mountain, and came dashing 
 down through a narrow little valley of its own ; wound 
 through the picnic-ground among the rocks and the woods, 
 until gradually, like many other country folk, who leave their 
 hills and seek to mingle in a larger body of their kind, it lost 
 its primitive, honest, straight-forward character, took to 
 roundabout, sinuous ways, in which it stole clandestinely 
 through a short space of meadow in a serpentine course, 
 coming at its ends in underhand ways, hiding under long 
 grass and alders, frothing at opposition and undermining its 
 boundaries, until at last it was swallowed up and inextricably 
 lost in the Cone Cut Pond. 
 
 This pond was a body of water supplied by a number of
 
 286 CONE CUT COKNERS. 
 
 little brooks from the hills around, and supplying in its turn a 
 mill-stream, which, five miles down the valley, drove the Cone 
 Cut Mills. This body of water was known among the ladies 
 of the village as Crystal Lake ; but it bore among the farmers 
 of the region the more euphonious title of Bull Horse Pond. 
 It really was, though, deserving of the title of lake. It was 
 two miles from head to foot from the picnic ground to the 
 outlet as it lay curled up asleep in the valley. If you could 
 imagine it to get up and straighten itself out, it would grow 
 four or five. Its shores were all full of queer hiding-places 
 and cozy nooks, little bays and creeks ; promontories reaching 
 out from each side, as if trying to meet each other and shake 
 hands in the middle of the lake. And along the banks of the 
 lake, here and there, trees came crowding down and peeping 
 over each other's heads and between each other's branches, to 
 catch a glimpse of themselves in the water. 
 
 To these woods, and toward this picnic-ground, the infantry 
 of Cone Cut, marshaled in companies according to their profi- 
 ciency in the catechism, and more particularly in Newcomb's 
 Questions were marching, the head of the column, adorned by 
 a banner borne by four boys in the most approved style, and 
 proclaiming in golden letters the motto, " Cold Water." 
 
 The history of this flag was briefly this. 
 
 Jason's speech at the temperance meeting, though it did 
 not incite others to a very effective working, had at least the 
 good effect to incite himself, and he immediately began 
 to cany his plan into operation to the best of his ability, by 
 inducing a number of boys in the village, who never did 
 drink any thing but water, who did not want to drink any 
 thing but water, and who could not get any thing but water
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 287 
 
 to drink, to pledge themselves that they never would drink 
 any thing but water. These forming a company of some fifty, 
 constituted a cold-water army, had occasional exhibitions 
 in the academy, and inarched, and counter-marched a good 
 deal about the village. Exhibitions, however, losing their 
 novelty, and marching growing rather dull, the cold-water 
 army began to lose numbers, and flag in zeal. Then the 
 young ladies of the village conspired together, and with their 
 own fair hands embroidered the banner in question. Notice 
 having been given of this fact, old deserters having returned, 
 and new recruits having been brought in by the intelligence, 
 a day was set, the boys all marched in solemn procession by 
 the most roundabout way they could conceive of, to the 
 academy, a troop of thirty girls happened in, quite acci- 
 dentally, with the flag, and presented it amid much excite- 
 ment, and no less to the surprise than to the gratification of 
 their unworthy soldiers ; at least so the commander said in 
 his reply, which did him, it must be said, great credit for so 
 impromptu an effort. 
 
 This was the history of the cold-water banner. 
 
 At first the little column moved with demure gravity and 
 solemnity ; then with irregularities of maneuver, induced by 
 obstacles of fences, and with consequent mirthful disregard of 
 the rules of military discipline, and now and then a desertion ; 
 until when, at the edge of the wood the banner was lowered, 
 with all joyous freedom the whole troop broke line and 
 scattered themselves among the trees. 
 
 At first they rambled about in the grove, the girls picking 
 flowers, the boys climbing trees and tumbling over the rocks, 
 in" total disregard of best clothes. Gradually, however, they 

 
 288 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 collected together around the picnic tables, extemporized for 
 the occasion out of long pine boards and empty barrels. All 
 numbered, old and young, there were about one hundred 
 there. 
 
 The invitation which the Elder had given out on Sunday 
 was addressed to all interested in Sabbath-schools. It must 
 have done his heart good to have seen how many in the 
 village there were who included themselves in that de- 
 scription. 
 
 It is curious how many people always are interested in 
 Sabbath-schools on such occasions. 
 
 The company being collected around the table, and the 
 boys, with some difficulty, being reduced to silence, the Elder 
 made a few remarks a very few, for the boys were all 
 impatient, and the Elder has at least this requisite of a good 
 speaker, that he knows when to make his speeches short 
 Then all turn upon the tables with a right good will, the 
 wiser ones of the company separating in groups, and appro- 
 priating chairs and sofas, made to hand by nature, in the 
 grass and rocks. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie was not interested in Sabbath-schools. 
 Xor was Gregory Donoe. And just at this time Captain 
 Mayferrie was resting himself on a nail-keg in Gregory Do- 
 noe's store, and Captain Mayferrie's horse was resting himself 
 in the road outside. 
 
 Gregory Donoe did a good business to-day ; a large busi- 
 ness in fire-crackers, which went off better in his store by the 
 pack, than they did out of his store individually. Then he 
 had a great pail of lemonade, flavored of tartaric acid and
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 289 
 
 essence of lemon, with the peel of one lemon floating on the 
 surface to give it a color of respectability. This pail had to 
 be frequently refilled, the same lemon doing service in many 
 pailfuls of lemonade, and was constantly surrounded by 
 greedy-eyed boys ; bad boys these, not interested in Sabbath- 
 schools. Then in the darker end of the store, behind the 
 counter, there was another pail, the contents of which were 
 only known to a comparatively few of the more knowing 
 ones, but which, too, had to be refilled occasionally, and was 
 now getting in more request. To this Captain Mayferrie re- 
 sorted after each race, and now, as the afternoon passed on, 
 his independence began to show itself more distinctly by a 
 general defiance to any one to produce an animal who could 
 compare with his Roan. 
 
 " I tell you, Gregory," said he, taking that gentleman by 
 the lappel of his coat, " there ain't an animal as can hold a 
 candle to her. Not an animal." 
 
 " Do you want to try it, Capp'n ?" said one of the com- 
 pany, an overgrown boy, who was sitting on the stove drum- 
 ming it with his feet. 
 
 "You!" said the Captain contemptuously, turning quite 
 fiercely round upon him, " you ! I could beat your team with 
 a saw-horse." 
 
 " Ya-as," said he, " Mebbe you want to try." 
 
 " Come on, then," said the Captain. 
 
 The overgrown boy, at this challenge, tumbled lazily off the 
 stove, opened the top of it and dropped in the quid of tobacco 
 he was chewing. He then performed an intricate wink at 
 Gregory Donoe, and thence proceeded to the door to prepare 
 for the race, accompanied by the little crowd of loungers. 
 13
 
 290 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Captain May feme in some way became' confused, whether 
 in getting off the nail-keg, which he did backward with much 
 care and some anxiety, or in what other manner, can not EOAV 
 with certainty be ascertained ; but certain it is, that instead 
 of going straight to the door, where he undoubtedly intended 
 to go, he proceeded in exactly the opposite direction, so that 
 at the time when he should have been getting into his gig, he 
 was actually employed very near the mysterious pail behind 
 the counter, at the darker end of the store. Thus it hap- 
 pened that some time elapsed after the overgrown boy reached 
 the door-step before the Captain made his appearance. 
 
 This lapse of time the overgrown boy employed in the fol- 
 lowing manner. First he drew from his coat-pocket a bunch 
 of fire-crackers, which he lengthened out from their original 
 compact form into a long string. He then got down under 
 the Captain's gig, and seating himself comfortably there, pro- 
 ceeded to fasten the fire-crackers securely to the axle. This 
 done, he got up again, took from his pocket a piece of de- 
 cayed wood of that kind technically known as punk, which 
 he lighted with a match taken from his pocket for the pur- 
 pose. This was a work of some little time, for the wind 
 would blow out the match, and the punk was obstinate and re- 
 fused to be coaxed to burn. At length, however, he accom- 
 plished his task. 
 
 " Well, Capp'n," said he, " are you ready ?" 
 
 " Aye ! aye !" said the Captain, from within the store, 
 ' : I 'm your man, sir. All right. Here I am. You don't find 
 me a backing out, I reckon. No, fir, I 'in on hand, I am." 
 
 Quite a little crowd had by this time collected around the 
 door to see the sport. They made room for the Captain. He
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 291 
 
 unfastened his horse, and climbed, with some difficulty, over 
 the large wheel into the little seat. 
 
 " Now," said he, gathering up his reins, " are you ready ?" 
 
 " All ready," said the overgrown boy, appearing from under 
 the gig, where, unseen to the Captain, he had been fastening 
 the pack a little more securely in its place. " Start when the 
 whip cracks." 
 
 And he lighted the fusee of the pack with the burning 
 punk. 
 
 " Hold on," said the Captain, " and I '11 give you a start." 
 
 " Crack !" said the first cracker. 
 
 The horse pricked up his ears, and the Captain drew taut 
 the rein. 
 
 " Hold on," said he. 
 
 "Crack! crack! crack!" 
 
 The horse reared up, and stood erect on his hind legs. 
 
 " Confound it ; stop that whip," said the Captain. * 
 
 " Cr-r-r-rack ! crack !" 
 
 " Go it, then," said the Captain. 
 
 The horse needed but the loosened rein. She was away 
 like the wind in a moment. 
 
 " Cr-r-r-r-rack ! cr-rack ! Crack ! crack ! crack !" 
 
 " Go it," shouted the Captain. " No you don't, old boy." 
 
 " Crack ! crack ! cr-rack ! crack ! crack ! Cr-r-r-r-rack ! 
 crack !" 
 
 Hi e !" 
 
 And the gig disappeared in a cloud of dust, amid the shouts 
 of the crowd. 
 
 It was not until the fire-crackers had said all they had to 
 say, and had quite spent themselves, that Roan began, of her
 
 292 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 M 
 
 own accord, to slacken her speed, and the Captain looked 
 around to see what had become of his competitor. 
 
 " Ho ! ho ! ho !" laughed he. " I have beat him out of sight 
 already. But it 's too bad for a man to thrash his horse like 
 that, if he is racing." 
 
 The day was very hot The Cone Cut .people considered 
 it the hottest Fourth they had known in twenty years, 
 which, considering it was the Fifth, was very extraordinary ; 
 and so continued to consider it until the next Fourth. Con- 
 tinual racing was beginning to tell upon the Captain's horse, 
 and though she kept up good speed yet, she ran less easily, 
 stumbled occasionally, and showed, to the Captain's practiced 
 eye, evident signs of being nearly beaten out It was not 
 much wonder, for he had done little else during the day than 
 to test her fleetness through the town. So the Captain gradu- 
 ally reined her in, reducing her speed from a frightened run 
 to a gentle trot, and from that to a lazy walk. 
 
 "Well, Roan, what next?" said he. And he pushed his 
 straw hat back on his head, and wiped his forehead. 
 
 Roan paid no attention to this question, but proceeded on 
 just as before, breathing very hard, and stopping occasionally 
 to bite at a troublesome fly. So the Captain had to determine 
 for himself what next. 
 
 As fate would have it, the Captain's race had led him down 
 the very road upon which, an hour before, the picnic party 
 had started on their way to the woods. As they had turned 
 off upon the short cut through the fields, the Captain had 
 passed the region of the picnic-ground, without meeting with 
 any thing to remind him of their near presence; and had no\v 
 come to the shore of the Crystal Lake, which lay just beyond
 
 CONE CL'T COIINER6. 
 
 the mouth of the brook. There was here a level bit of road, 
 along the shore of the pond, in fact nearly the only level piece 
 of road there was about Cone Cut, which Roan instinctively 
 improved by quickening her speed. 
 
 " Whoa," said the Captain, as they reached the foot of 
 Cartrock's Hill. *" Breathe now." 
 
 In obedience to this mandate the horse stopped just oppo- 
 site an opening in the trees, which afforded the Captain a full 
 view of the lake. The water took a beautiful daguerreotype 
 of the clouds, the mountain and the trees ; the Captain 
 stopped to look at it. 
 
 " That 's pretty," said he, " though it is water ;" and he 
 laughed with a pleasant contempt for that element. 
 
 And then he stood up in his gig, and fanned himself with 
 his broad-brimmed l^at. A very refreshing breath of air 
 came across the pond, rubbing out the daguerreotype in a 
 moment, and making the water look more temptingly cool 
 than ever. 
 
 " I declare," said he, " I believe I '11 take a swim." 
 
 So he turned his horse out to the side of the road, fastened 
 him to the fence, climbed over, and went down through the 
 trees to the shore. 
 
 " I wonder where old Cartrock's boat is," said he ; " seems 
 to me he keeps it along here somewhere ; I should like to get 
 out into deep water." 
 
 So he walked back along the shore of the pond, toward the 
 mouth of the inlet.' Just before he came to the brook, he 
 found two boats in a little cove, moored quite near each other. 
 They were both plain flat-bottomed scows. One was very large 
 and heavy, with a ballast of rain-water in it, and was fastened
 
 294 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 to the shore by the bows being pulled up high and dry. The 
 other was light and better ; it was fastened to a stake by a 
 chain and a stout padlock. The Captain was not long in un- 
 fastening it, by pulling the stake out of the mud and pitching 
 it, chain, padlock, and all, into the bofet. 
 
 " Cartrock might just as well leave his key handy for a fel- 
 low," said he. 
 
 So saying, he jumped in himself and paddled out into deeper 
 water. 
 
 " Ugh," said he, laying down his paddle and rising from a 
 gaze into the water. " I 'm glad I ain't a fish ; how do they 
 live with nothing but cold water to drink ?" 
 
 And he began to prepare for an external application of that 
 element which had so long served him in no other way. 
 
 " Now," said he, standing up in the bows of the boat. 
 " One ! two ! three ! " 
 
 And he made a plunge which drove the boat back from 
 under him, and brought all the inhabitants of the pond who 
 resided in that neighborhood to their doors to see what was 
 the matter. 
 
 " Good," he spluttered, as he came up to the surface to 
 breathe, and paddled after the boat again. 
 
 Now it so happened that just at the time the Captain was 
 unfastening his boat and getting ready for a swim, the picnic 
 party were about exhausting, simultaneously, their appetites 
 and their viands, and it was proposed by Elder Graynes that 
 they take a little walk through the woods. To this proposal, 
 an amendment was offered by Jason to the effect that they 
 take a sail upon the lake instead. Thence followed a spirited 
 debate, in which the younger portion of the community,
 
 CONE CUT COttNEUS. 295 
 
 headed by Jason, clamored for the sail, while the more con- 
 servative class, ably represented by Aunt Provy, insisted on the 
 walk. The debate became animated, and might have terminat- 
 ed seriously, at least so far as the destruction of the good 
 feeling and harmony of $ie party can be considered serious, 
 had it not occurred to Salanda just in the nick of time that 
 it was barely possible for those who preferred walking, to walk, 
 without absolutely preventing those who preferred to sail from 
 sailing. She having timidly suggested this, and Aunt Provy 
 highly approving the suggestion, so much so as to adopt it as 
 her own without the slightest hesitation, and Calick adding 
 force to it by the declaration that the boats would not begin 
 to hold them all, it was finally agreed that the whole party 
 should go down to the lake, and that those who wished to sail 
 should do so, while the rest walked along the shore. 
 
 Thus it happened, that just as the Captain was coming up 
 from his last dive, he thought he heard voices on the shore, 
 and stopped, one hand on the bows of the boat, to listen. 
 
 " Calick," said Elder Graynes, as they came down to the 
 shore of the pond, " my eyes are not so good as they used to 
 be, but is not that the boat I see off there ?" 
 
 " It certainly is, sir," responded Calick. " It must have 
 floated off. We '11 have to go off and get it." 
 
 " How are you going to do that ?" asked the Elder. 
 
 " Oh, there is another boat along here," said Calick, " We 
 can go out in that." 
 
 " The devil," said the Captain. " There 's the picnic." 
 He took his hand off the bow, and hung on the chain,
 
 296 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 peeping round the edge of the boat to watch the operations 
 of the party on shore. 
 
 " Halloo !" shouted Jason, who hail run on before, and was 
 bailing the water out of the boat with a leaky tin pail which 
 he had found there. " Here 's the boat." 
 
 Calick and the Elder quickened their pace. 
 
 " I guess, Mr. Jason," said Calick, " we had better tip her 
 over. It will take too long to bail her out." 
 
 " Well," said Jason. 
 
 So Calick and Jason pulled the stern of the boat upon the 
 shore, and then with the assistance of a few of the larger 
 boys, and the hinderance of all the smaller boys, tipped it over 
 and let all the water run out. They then let it down again, 
 launched it fairly into the water, and brought it up to a stone 
 to receive its load. 
 
 '0 
 
 " Whew !" said the Captain. " I verily believe they are 
 coming after me." 
 
 He gradually lifted himself up until his head was fairly 
 above the edge of the boat, and surveyed their operations for 
 a moment. 
 
 "Go 'way!" said he. 
 
 Then he dropped suddenly down again. In a moment, he 
 peered cautiously around the edge of the boat. It was 
 evident that the party had not heard him. The wind 
 had taken his words and carried them across the lake, 
 where they got lost among the trees. 
 
 " Let 's have in the flag," said Jason. 
 
 So he passed it along to Salanda, who was, if we may
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 297 
 
 be allowed that expression, bowswoman. She stood it up- 
 right in the bows. The wind filled the banner out like a sail. 
 
 " H'm !" said the Captain, as he saw these advancing 
 preparations. 
 
 Then he lifted himself up gradually, as before, and shouted, 
 this time in a louder voice. 
 
 " Go 'way /" 
 
 " What 's that ?" asked Salanda. 
 
 " What ?" said Jason. 
 
 " Hark !" 
 
 The whole party listened for a moment, but heard nothing. 
 
 " I thought I heard some one calling," said Salanda. 
 
 * '& 
 
 The Captain peered round the edge of the boat again. 
 
 The party were going on with their preparations. A boat- 
 load were about starting from the shore. 
 
 " Now," said Calick, " push her off, Mr. Jason. Steady ! 
 Whatever you do, don't scream, girls. There she is. Now 
 then, in with you." 
 
 Jason, jumping in at the stern, pushed the boat fairly off 
 into the water with his oar. 
 
 " Now head for the other boat," said Calick. 
 
 And Calick and Jason began to row in the direction of 
 Captain Mayferrie. 
 
 " Good gracious !" said the Captain. He looked at them a 
 moment in hesitation, then caught hold of the chain with one 
 hand, and struck out to swim away with the boat behind him.
 
 298 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " Calick," said Jason, " seems to me that boat 's moving." 
 
 " Can't be," said Calick ; " there is n't any current here, you 
 know." 
 
 " It certainly is," said Salanda, looking at it earnestlv. 
 "Perhaps it's the wind." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Calick, " there is n T t wind enough to move it." 
 
 " But it is moving," insisted Jason. " Look at it for your- 
 self and see." 
 
 "That's a fact," said Calick. "It is, and no mistake. 
 Put in, then, and we'll find out the why." 
 
 So Calick and Jason rowed harder than before, and the 
 whole crew looked forward eagerly to solve the mystery. 
 
 Meanwhile, on shore, Aunt Provy had noticed that the little 
 boat had commenced to move, and all her party were watch- 
 ing with interest the inexplicable race. 
 
 The Captain tugged at the chain with a right good will, 
 but the race was wholly unequal. They gained upon him 
 fast. 
 
 "Ready there, Salanda," said Jason, as their boat ap- 
 proached the other. 
 
 The Captain, settling himself well down in the water, 
 caught hold of the chain near the bows, and stood still, 
 treading water, and ready for a spring. 
 
 " Now then," said he to himself, " all ready, old fellow." 
 
 Salanda, in blissful ignorance, leaned forward and caught 
 hold of the little boat, to draw it to the lanje one.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 299 
 
 " Why ! here 's somebody's clo !" 
 " Go 'WAY !" 
 
 This shouted the Captain, his iead appearing with a spring 
 above the bows of the boat. 
 
 " E-e-e-e-e-e !" screamed all the girls. 
 
 In the midst of screaming, covering of faces with the 
 hands, dangerous rocking to and fro of the heavy boat, and 
 much confusion, Jason, with a sweep of his oar at the stern, 
 turned the boat's bows toward the shore, and made all pos- 
 sible haste thither. And Captain Mayferrie, from his place of 
 concealment, could discern Aunt Provy on the bank, with her 
 apron over her face, making for the woods as fast as she 
 could go. 
 
 The Captain remained quite still until the party had gained 
 the shore and disappeared in the woods, following Aunt Provy. 
 Then he turned round and swam slowly and laboriously in 
 another direction toward the shore. Landing in a secluded 
 cove some half mile down the lake from where he found 
 the boat, he proceeded to prepare his toilet, stopping occa- 
 sionally to enjoy a laugh or entertain a chagrin at his adven- 
 ture. Thence he proceeded by a short cut across the meadows 
 to Roan, now growing anxious for the return of her master. 
 Sue neighed a glad welcome to him as he came across the 
 field. 
 
 Thence by a devious and roundabout road, avoiding the vil- 
 lage, he drove slowly home. For a time he sat in deep 
 meditation, leaning forward, his arms crossed on his knees. 
 At length he took up the reins and started up his horse.
 
 300 CON KG V T CORNERS. 
 
 " Well, well !" said he, " it 's a family failing. I 'm sorry 
 for it, but it can't be helped. It 's a family failing." 
 
 Having thus transferred his burden of his regretted habit 
 to the broad shoulders of the family, he felt more light-heart- 
 ed, and prepared himself to enjoy the cheerful society of the 
 amiable Mrs. Spyke. 
 
 If we are to be believed, we have human failings, national 
 failings, even family failings but never individual failings. 
 Strange ! Captain Mayferrie, that a family composed of mem- 
 bers so perfect, individually, should be troubled with so seri- 
 ous a family failing collectively quite incomprehensible !
 
 
 * I* 
 
 & 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 AUGUST, 1852 
 
 
 DURING the win- 
 ter that passed 
 after the decease 
 of Jason's father, 
 that young gen- 
 tleman had made no particular pro- 
 gress in any thing, except an al- 
 manac advance toward years of discretion. 
 
 He did not go back to the Cone Cut Academy, but re- 
 mained for a season at home. Finding home rather dull, he 
 traveled a short time. Finding traveling rather " slow," he 
 came back to New York. New York being rather brighter 
 than when he left it, he managed to get through a few leisure 
 months without absolute weariness.
 
 302 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 He formed, meanwhile, large plans of future labors and 
 achievements, and fed a lofty ambition upon somewhat ethe- 
 real and unsubstantial food. Unlike most of that unfortunate 
 class, the sons of rich men, he rather disliked the idea of liv- 
 ing upon other people's earnings, and producing nothing him- 
 self. He was quite indifferent to the honor of living in ease 
 on hereditary wealth, as a fungus on a decayed log feeds on 
 the remains of a more substantial ancestor. 
 
 Jason had some ideas of his own about dead languages ; 
 and he demonstrated to his mother, more by pertinacity than 
 by consistency of argument, that a diploma was no considera- 
 tion to him, and that four years at college would be nearly 
 wasted. 
 
 Yes ; no doubt they would. 
 
 At various times he had various inclinations. 
 
 He commenced an investigation into his father's estate, and 
 learned in a month more about its condition than the three 
 executors combined had been able to discover during the six 
 months they had been at work. Rummaging over the books 
 and papers in the office, he brought to light some little indis- 
 cretions of Mr. Stretch's, which brought surprise and conster- 
 nation to the executors, and the result of which was that Mr. 
 Stretch took down his sign one morning and rather abruptly 
 cfeparted, leaving the executors to "get things straightened 
 out," as best they might. 
 
 Then he thought himself meant for a chemist. He took 
 great interest in scientific studies. He made him a laboratory 
 in the fourth story, and evolved the worst smells of science 
 with greater pleasure than if they had been the fragrance of
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 303 
 
 Before he had really learned any thing, except the incon- 
 venient effects of sulphuric acid on the fingers, he turned his 
 attention to light literature. He made researches in the Rhym- 
 ing Dictionary, and all the accessible hand-books of criticism, 
 and came shortly to consider himself fairly enlisted in that 
 army of bold men -who seek the bubble reputation at the ink- 
 stand's mouth. 
 
 Before he had seen any service, or exposed himself in any 
 way, he deserted and went over to the ranks of the legal pro- 
 fession. Happening to form the acquaintance of Mr. Edgecutt 
 through calling on him with Paul, he resorted much thereaf- 
 ter to that gentleman's office, and became, for a short time, 
 greatly interested in his profession. His mental capacities, 
 and his qualities as a friend, made his new acquaintance take 
 much interest in his plans and purposes ; and Mr. Edgecutt 
 proved of great service to him in imparting some weight and 
 permanence to his ambition. 
 
 Nevertheless, Jason's ideas of future industry and self-achiev- 
 ed success were very vague. He had yet to learn that it was 
 not enough for a man to be " the architect of his own fortunes." 
 Jason drew the plans and laid out the measurements often 
 enough ; he played the architect again and again. But be- 
 fore he could move into that edifice of personal position which 
 he now occupies, and which Mrs. Jason L. Chesslebury with 
 him adorns, he found that he must be not only his own archi- 
 tect but his own carpenter and mason and his own hod-carrier. 
 
 The country influences of his previous education, undoubt- 
 edly will have to bear the blame for Jason of this strange and 
 almost vulgar notion of his, that he ought to be doing some- 
 thing for himself. It was certainly not to be justly attributed
 
 304 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 to the atmosphere of his city life. Nor was he wholly re- 
 moved from these unfortunate, unfashionable, and unsophistic- 
 ated rural influences when he left Cone Cut, summoned hastily 
 by the sad news of his father's death. Not long after the 
 funeral, he wrote of his affliction to Salanda, and the letter 
 receiving a simple and straightforward, but tender and sisterly 
 reply, he found a wholesome pleasure in her sympathy. And 
 so it came to pass that from seeking Salanda's condolement he 
 asked her advice, and took good counsel of her honest heart 
 in many questions, and on many subjects, where he would not 
 open his thoughts to other friends ; nor take advice if offered. 
 In fact he thought more of Salanda (in a brotherly way, of 
 course) than he would have cared to acknowledge, and gov- 
 erned himself more by her thoughts and wishes, than by those 
 of any other person, unless it was his sister Frederica. 
 
 His mother was the same dignitary that she had always 
 been ; and even yet appeared to consider Jason and Frederica 
 as "the children." Experience had not yet obliterated the 
 impression, that the sympathy and friendship which young 
 folks need, is just what the nurse and nursery-maid were paid 
 for furnishing at the proper time. She was no more approach- 
 able in black than she had been in colors ; and although un- 
 doubtedly she had a mother's heart in the place for it, yet its 
 hiding-place was, and had ever been to the children's recollec- 
 tion, so handsomely concealed with silks and laces, that their 
 heads had never been permitted to rest upon it, and find that 
 it did really beat in unison with their own. 
 
 His elder sister, Jason seldom saw. She had taken her 
 husband to the South to spend the winter. In this movement 
 Mr. Sharstock had tractably acquiesced. For whatever else
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 305 
 
 m 
 
 might be said against him, he could not be charged with a dis- 
 position to make trouble in his family ; and it became ulti- 
 mately the fundamental maxim of his matrimonial philosophy, 
 to let Mrs. Sharstock do as she liked, and make no objections ; 
 for, as he said to himself privately, after more dialogues than 
 one, " She may quarrel. It would be a joke if she did." 
 
 But his sister Frederica, Jason found to be a noble friend. 
 In point of time, she was younger than he by one year and an 
 odd month or so, but allowing for difference of sex, that made 
 her perhaps a year older, in point of well, in point of a good 
 many things. \\ 
 
 Frederica saw all of Salanda's letters. Not that there were 
 many of them. On the contrary, not half enough. They 
 were a most provokingly long( time in coming. When Jason 
 complained of this, Freddie looked wise, and said she didn't 
 wonder; she thought, though, they would come and go 
 quicker one of these days ; and then Jason would ask inno- 
 cently, " When r And Freddie would say, " Well, if you can't 
 guess, it will be when you put more in yours." And then 
 Jason would protest, with earnest solemnity, that he never 
 thought of such a thing ; she was only a friend. Then Fred- 
 die always laughed what a sweet, sisterly, sarcastic little 
 laugh, with dimples of kindness and affection playing all over 
 it, that would have made any body else than Jason quite con- 
 fused in mind to witness. 
 
 But when the letters did come, were they not good ones 1 
 
 Did you never, when passing the post-office, happen to see 
 Jason coming out with a letter, and doing the very foolish 
 thing of opening it right there in the street to read it ; and, 
 as he r6ad, running against people, with a bright smile of
 
 306 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 enjoyment on his face, contrasting queerly enough with their 
 giances of indignation ? 
 
 Did you never see him take it out of his pocket in the om- 
 nibus going up, just partly out, to take a look at the super- 
 scription, as if he were carrying a document on an errand, and 
 wanted to be sure he had taken the right one? Or some- 
 times, when the passengers did not look very inquisitive, have 
 you not seen him take it quite open, and read, but with a 
 very sober face, and stopping to look abstractly now and then, 
 pretending that it was a terribly dull, important, business letter. 
 
 But then they were good letters, and would bear reading 
 three times for he always read them at home with Freddie 
 leaning on his shoulder and looking over ; and this made the 
 third time, though he did make as if it was the first. They 
 were good letters. There were good honest truths in them, 
 and gentle good wishes which were spurs to Jason's better 
 nature. There was such an instinctive interest in any of Ja- 
 son's ^purposes, or plans, or even half-formed thoughts of use- 
 fulness or self-improvement, which, when he had such, his 
 letters always disclosed to her ; and such an intuitive avoid- 
 ance and quiet disregard of frivolousness and levity, that it 
 did Freddie's heart good to read them, and she was glad that 
 Jason read them so closely too. 
 
 Ah ! those letters came altogether too rarely. 
 
 Taking into view these circumstances, and many more that 
 can not be here reviewed, but which, by logical induction, 
 may be readily supplied, it was natural enough at least so 
 Freddie thought that Jason should conclude to spend the 
 summer of 1852 in Cone Cut, instead of dividing it with his 
 mother between Saratoga and Newport.
 
 CONi] CUT CO UN BUS. 307 
 
 Jason was warmly greeted by all his friends in Cone Cut. 
 This, indeed, was nearly all the town ; for he knew every body 
 and every body knew him, from Elder Graynes down to Cap- 
 tain May feme's dog. And they were all glad to see him. 
 
 Except perhaps Salanda ? 
 
 No ! she was as cordial in her welcome as ever. Still in 
 some way she did not seem quite as Jason expected. Not ex- 
 actly indifferent. No. Not at all indifferent ; not at all ; but 
 in the least possible degree distant. No, no ; not in the 
 slightest degree distant ; but perhaps somewhat reserved. 
 Not really reserved, though ; but in some way changed. 
 Hardly, though, changed ; because she certainly was just the 
 same as ever ; but nevertheless that was not exactly what 
 Jason seemed to have expected ; though he could not for the 
 life of him say what was wanting. 
 
 It is wonderful what a number of beauiiful rides there were in 
 the region of Cone Cut Corners. Not those macadamized ave- 
 nues, those everlastingly unfinished roads, that are never done 
 until they are worn out ; but real country roads, paved only by 
 Nature, graded only here and there in steep places by freshets, 
 and unswept save now and then by the winds ; true country 
 roads among the mountains, through forests, over hills, down 
 ravines ; genuine country roads with big rocks in the middle 
 occasionally, to give scope to the skill of amateur drivers ; with 
 gridirons made of logs, in marshy places, to give variety to the 
 motion of the wagon ; with, once in a great while, streams to 
 ford, in broad, shallow places, to test the courage and the con- 
 fidence of a timid companion. Splendid roads these, for a brisk 
 little horse and a light strong wagon and two good friends, en- 
 joying the air and the prospect together ; nothing more !
 
 308 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 It is a little remarkable too, how many pleasant walks there 
 are in the vicinity of the village. There was the way to Cap- 
 tain Mayferrie's, up the north hill ; a noble walk this, early of 
 a summer morning, giving a view of sunrise up there full 
 three minutes before any body down in the village caught it. 
 Then there was Cartrock's Hill. That was the place for box- 
 berries and sunsets. Down the pond there was a delightful 
 wild old path leading through all sorts of wildernesses into a 
 perfect Garden of Eden of raspberry-bushes. Then at the head 
 of the pond there were the rockmaple woods, where the forest 
 that belonged on the mountain had ventured down in one 
 corner into the valley, and made a coiony along the brook. 
 This was the spot which Salanda's taste, approved by the as- 
 sent of all the village, had selected for a picnic ground. 
 
 But of all the pleasant walks in the whole neighborhood there 
 was none more pleasant than the old valley road ; at least so 
 Jason thought, and perhaps Salanda thought so too. This was 
 an old road, and now almost deserted, which formerly had been 
 the thoroughfare from Cone Cut Corners down the valley, to 
 the mills at the other end of the pond in the next town. 
 Lately a new road had been cut through the woods, along the 
 shore of the pond, and this being level and shorter, soon at- 
 tracted all the travel and left the old valley road high and dry 
 among the hills. This deserted thoroughfare was now only 
 used by the farmers who lived upon it. It was a capital road 
 for a walk, as Jason said to himself, because, although there 
 was enough publicity in it to give it propriety, there was yet 
 a seclusion which made it agreeable. Salanda acknowledged 
 that she liked it, because, she said, there was no dust, and 
 no being turned out of the road every little while by teams.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. , 309 
 
 It was a pleasant road too. Some climbing, but many capital 
 resting-places, and a noble prospect. Some woods with cool 
 and somber shadows and some orchards (free for Jason) on 
 the hill, with early apples of that size and rosiness and juicy 
 mellowness that prevented their ever getting to market. The 
 roadway itself, was overgrown with grass between the wheel- 
 tracks, which made it look like a -winding green railroad Avith 
 soft cushions of sod for rails. So it was a very pleasantly car- 
 peted place for pedestrians. 
 
 One evening toward the end of August, Jason and Salanda 
 were coming slowly along this road, on their return from a 
 walk. 
 
 The sun, that most inexorable of all creditors, had been 
 around, during the day, dunning all the earth to pay up 
 an installment on the debt of rain lately incurred, and was 
 now good-humoredly going home in the midst of a rare glory. 
 He had been very successful in his day's tour, and had raised 
 a large amount, which was heaped up about him in golden 
 piles, and, amid all this immeasurable wealth, he was bowing 
 himself slowly below the horizon. 
 
 Salanda and Jason, from turning back to see the sunset, 
 moved slowly on along the green railroad toward home. 
 
 What there might be in the sight to make Jason look very 
 steadily on the ground, and Salanda look very straightforward 
 into the darkening distance, and both to walk on in the same 
 silence in which they had watched the setting of the sun, is 
 not easy to say. But as they lingered slowly along the way, 
 Jason kept his eyes upon the grassy track, as if intent 
 on search for something that he scarcely hoped to find ; 
 white Salanda, her broad straw-hat shading and darkening
 
 310 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 the soberness of her beautiful face, looked still steadily before 
 her, toward the eastern hills across the valley. 
 
 At last Salanda spoke. 
 
 "No," said she, in a very gentle tone, recurring to what- 
 ever may have gone before in the conversation " no, Jason, I 
 am afraid you will not be happy with me, or without. I don't 
 think you 're quite safe where you stand. No love of mi no 
 can make you safe, I fear." 
 
 " But, Salanda, you don't understand me." 
 
 " I think I do," said she. " You think there 's no danger. 
 You dislike dissipation, as you call it, and think you never 
 can be tempted jnto it. But you enjoy occasionally a wine- 
 drinking frolic ; and when it is over, you laugh, and call it a 
 spree. It may not be wrong, but I am sure it is not safe." 
 
 Jason was silent. 
 
 " Perhaps you think it 's only the poor who are in danger 
 from intemperance. Forgive me, Jason, if I say if I even 
 thiuk any thing I ought not ; but it seems to me, that of 
 all persons, those who are well off and live in ease are the 
 most in danger. Those who use the temptation as a luxury 
 will be most prone, and the highest up have the furthest to fall. 
 
 " You know best," she continued, " if you will judge un- 
 prejudiced. And don't you think so ? I verily believe that 
 there are more mothers made wretched by the ruin of their 
 sons among the rich, than among the poor. Oh, do ! Jason, 
 promise me, as you would vour sister, that you will not go on 
 so any more. I can not say how much happiness your 
 your confidence has given me. You have been a brother to 
 me, Jason, though I am alone. I am very grateful. But I 
 can not say yes."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 311 
 
 " Salanda," Jason commenced. 
 
 " Don't ask me more," she said, putting both hands to her 
 face, to stifle a sob and conceal a tear. 
 
 " My dear Salanda," returned Jason, tenderly disregarding 
 the remonstrance. " Is that all ?" 
 
 " It is enough," said she, drying her eyes resolutely, and 
 pulling forward the straw-hat, for they were now entering the 
 village. " It is enough." 
 
 " Yes," said Jason, " but if I promise." 
 
 " Oh, I shall be very glad," said she, joyfully glancing at 
 him. 
 
 " A.nd if I do, what what will you say then ?" 
 
 Salanda looked serious again, and was silent. After a 
 moment, she spoke. 
 
 "It must not be a bargain. It ought to be a principle. 
 Then you will not forget it, nor be tired of it. I don't 
 think, Jason, it ought to be a bargain." 
 
 Jason was silent. 
 
 " It is," said she, " because you have been so much my 
 friend that I have spoken so plainly." 
 
 " Well !" said Jason. But he did not seem quite satisfied 
 that it was well. 
 
 " When they reached Aunt Provy's gate, Jason stood lean- 
 ing over it a little while, prolonging the conversation. 
 
 " From my heart I thank you," said he, commencing again 
 after Salanda thought he had said all that he would, " I thank 
 you for all your sisterly good influence and kindness. I hope 
 you will know one day how much I owe you. I sometimes 
 wonder what I might have become without your friendship." 
 
 Salanda's tears made answer for her.
 
 312 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " I shall go back to New York, to-morrow." 
 
 " Why, Jason !" she exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes," returned he, "to-morrow. I shall write to you 
 from there. Until then I promise you Salanda, truly no 
 I 'd better not make any promises." 
 
 " Good-night, Salanda." 
 
 " Good-by, Jason." 
 
 Salanda from the gate watched Jason going up the hill to- 
 ward Elder Graynes', until what with the distance and what 
 with her tears, he disappeared from her sight. Then turning 
 slowly from the gate she entered the house, and with scarcely 
 a word to Aunt Provy, went up to her room. 
 
 The little window of Salanda's room looked westward. A 
 faint tinge of twilight not altogether yet gone out, spread over 
 that part of the sky ; and as Salanda sat with her arm on the 
 window-sill, she watched through tearful eyes the increasing 
 darkness. Then on the western hills the landscape was grow- 
 ing confused. Fields and forests were losing their identity 
 and going into partnership in the gloom ; and the houses along 
 the old valley road, which in daylight had stood out in white 
 or sober brown against the surrounding foliage, now faded out 
 of sight, and were recognizable only where, in the sitting-room 
 within, the evening firelight or candles, made signal of their 
 position. 
 
 But Salanda's thoughts did not linger here. 
 
 Further up the hill, then, on the brow. 
 
 There the bold ridge stood up high and clear, making itself 
 look flat against the sky ; and the sky came down and looked 
 as if it stood flat against the hill upon the other side ; and the 
 apple-trees in the orchard up there, which had been all day in
 
 COM* OUT CORNERS, 313 
 
 a crowd huddled together in confusion, now separated and 
 stood out distinct to view, and the fading light shone between 
 their stems and through their foliage. 
 
 But Salanda's thoughts did not linger here. 
 
 Further on, over the hill, through the trees, into the sky, 
 she looked ; and so she sat. Until Darkness, whose forces had 
 already conquered and invested the valley, gained full posses- 
 sion of the horizon, and there built an embankment of cloud 
 along the ridge, and to that fortification rallying forces, again 
 charged, thence down the hill, upon the retreating enemy. 
 
 Salanda closed the window, dried her eyes, h't a lamp, 
 slightly arranged her curling hair at that littlest of all glasses 
 which stood over her bureau, and then sat down at her table. 
 It was a round pine table of moderate dimensions. A plain 
 Avhite cloth, full and flowing, gave it a neat and pleasant 
 look. Behind it, back against the wall, hung her bookcase, 
 which consisted of three shelves of yellow pine, neatly made 
 by Culick the noble fellow ; he was always doing something 
 for her and varnished by him until it would make you be- 
 lieve yellow pine to be the most beautiful of all woods. 
 
 Before her upon the table lay her writing-desk.. She 
 opened it with a key, lifted an inner lid, and took out of it a 
 morocco-covered book. It opened almost of its own accord 
 toward the latter part ; and she proceeded to write for some 
 time upon its pages. 
 
 The sentiments which she thus confided to her Journal can 
 not properly be laid open here. Whether they were reflec- 
 tions upon the themes of the evening's conversation with 
 Jason, or whether they were anticipations of the time, now 
 near at hand, when she was to leave her home for strange ex- 
 14
 
 314 
 
 CONK CUT COKXKRS. 
 
 periences abroad, or whether other and even deeper thoughts 
 were hers, can not well be settled here. Whatever those sen- 
 timents may have been, they are not to be spread before the 
 world. They were in Iced with perfect propriety intrusted to 
 her Journal, that most secure strong-box for the weaknesses 
 of young ladies. There they stand guarded from intrusive 
 eyes by the invariable title-page, bearing the talismanic, or to 
 speak more properly, taliswomanic inscription : 
 . * J 
 
 "PRIVATE. ..-<* 
 
 "To be burned unopened in case I should be taken away." 
 
 Tliis inscription would, as Salanda (in common with other 
 young ladies) supposed, completely satiate the spirit of inves- 
 tigation in the most curious stranger, and raise up an insur- 
 mountable barrier of high conscientious scruple in .the heart 
 of aa heir, executor, or administrator, however devoid of 
 moral principle. 
 
 Confiding in the sacred character of these protecting 
 words, Salanda closed her Journal and locked her desk, put 
 on Jier hat and a shawl, and went down stairs again. 
 
 " Aunt Provy," said she, looking in at the kitchen, " I 'in 
 going out to take a walk.'' 
 
 " La, child ! you Avon't do any such thing," predicted Aunt 
 Provy, confidently. 
 
 " It 's such ajbeautiful night, and the moon's rising. I'll 
 not be long," replied Salanda. 
 
 So saying she went out, and from the gate directed her 
 steps up the hill.
 
 XXV. 
 
 AUGUST, 18S2. 
 
 THE moon, now rising high in the East, brought light and 
 cheerfulness upon the somber landscape again. So that Dark- 
 ness, -whose short triumph Salanda had witnessed from the 
 window, was, in the very midst of his victory, suddenly fallen 
 upon in the. rear, by this ally of Light, who had been coming 
 up to the succor from an ambuscade behind the mountains. 
 Between the two enemies Darkness found close fighting, and 
 retreated, and fell into concealed places, and hid behind any 
 thing which would cast a shadow of safety. Light thus 
 gained a partial possession of the field again.
 
 316 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 | 
 
 Next the church, down the slope, shaded by grand old 
 elms, was the little lot of ground sacred to the memory of the 
 Cone Cut dead. And here the Darkness found its best safety 
 from the rnoon, concealing itself by the overshadowing trees, 
 and hiding among the gravestones. 
 
 Salanda stopped a moment at the gate. It was a plain 
 white gateway, with a little archway over it, which bore the 
 inscription, " The wages of sin is death." It was scarcely a 
 fashionable sentiment, according to the custom of cemetery 
 inscriptions, and when Elder Graynes had caused it to be 
 placed there, the people of the town murmured somewhat 
 for they were accustomed to more comfortable scriptures 
 and said it was not the thing; and strangers riding by, stopped 
 in their chaises a moment to look, and said how odd ; and, in 
 short, mortals generally disliking the anticipation of being 
 paid off in that coin, were in no hurry for pay-clay, and 
 thought that some other inscription would have been much 
 more tasteful and appropriate. 
 
 Salanda opened the gate and went in. She shut it gently 
 after her, as if afraid to disturb the sleepers whose chamber 
 she was entering. Notwithstanding all her caution, however, 
 she awoke all the attention of the place. Grim old grave- 
 stones stared at her in surprise. The trees bent their heads 
 together and whispered to each other their wonder who it was 
 that dared encroach upon these grounds at such a time of 
 night. The evening breeze, which had almost fallen asleep 
 up among the branches, awoke again, and came down to meet 
 her; while the moon, wondering whither she was going, 
 struggled through the foliage here and there to watch her
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 31*7 
 
 The familiar pathway brought her soon to the white grave- 
 stone, with the simple inscription. The grave stood there like 
 a sphinx ; and a strange riddle it was when most thought of, 
 least understood. Strange it seemed always to Salanda, yet 
 never more inexplicable than to-night. 
 
 Here Salanda stopped and sat down upon the grass, leaning 
 her head upon the stone. From here, through the trees she 
 could see the valley ; and in its center the pond lay gleaming 
 in the moonlight. Salanda faintly smiled as it brought to 
 mind the fancy which her childhood had associated with the 
 scene, that it was like an opening in the earth where she 
 could look through and see the other sky. 
 
 Just beyond her, up the hill, was the church, facing down 
 the valley ; and its two front windows aside the steeple, looked 
 like two dark eyes sleeplessly watching the village. A little 
 further on stood the parsonage. It was mostly hidden by the 
 church and in the trees. But one window she could see. 
 She well knew whose room that was. She even thought that 
 she could see his form against the curtain. 
 
 " Oh, mother !" she cried, " how much I need your counsel, 
 your sympathy ! Oh, how much ! Oh, that you could ad- 
 vise me. I could tell you all. I can not talk of him to , 
 
 no, I can not. Oh, mother, why should I be bereaved of you. 
 Of your memory, and perhaps your name. I could better 
 bear to be an orphan if I but knew how and why it was." 
 
 The evening breeze that had gone back to its cradle in the 
 boughs above was not more restless, uncertain, aimless, than 
 Salanda's thoughts. She turned and leaned her forehead upon 
 the cool stone, and the little violet leaves and stems of grass 
 at its foot, bowed sympathetically as her tears fell upon them.
 
 318 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Some distant sound recalled her attention. She listened 
 -with head erect. Nothing. 
 
 She looked to the window again. 
 
 " Oh, if he only knew how much I love him ! Was I not 
 wrong ? Or must I lose him f ' 
 
 The form against the window rose, and disappeared. 
 Salanda had not even a shadow's company now. 
 
 " Still, it is better to lose him now ; be parted from him and 
 forgotten, than to be his, and then to lose him slowly day by 
 day. That is the bitterest bereavement which grows slowly 
 on the heart. I can bear his farewell now. I could not bear 
 forgetfulness and his slow ruin, then it would be better to 
 lose him now, if he loves such liberty more than me. 
 
 " Oh ! if he should but I have seen too many suffer 
 so already. No, I must be firm. Perhaps my words may 
 save him. I might persuade him to promise me. But I don't 
 want him to promise me. That were an idle pledge. It 
 ought to be his " 
 
 Hark! 
 
 Salanda crouches behind the gravestone. There at the 
 gate, in the moonlight, peering through the archway into the 
 darkness around Salanda, who is it ? As Salanda hides 
 behind the stone, he shakes his fist, and mutters something 
 which she can not hear. Then-the little gate creaks upon its 
 hinges, and a shadow passes up the walk. 
 
 There is but an instant for thought. If she attempts to 
 leave the place she is seen. She steps behind the trunk of a 
 neighboring tree. The darkness favors her. The evening 
 breeze draws a white vail of cloud over the face of the 
 inquisitive moon, and cuts off her attention from Salanda.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 319 
 
 The intruder comes slowly up the path. He walks 
 toward Salanda, It is Mr. Mayferrie ! Why he is here, 
 to-night, Salanda trembling, wonders; and finds conjectured 
 answers in the motives of her own presence, which make her 
 tremble all the more. The Captain comes to the spot that 
 she had left. He leans heavily against a young tree, which 
 sways under the burden, and can scarcely support him. 
 
 Oho !" sighs he. 
 
 The evening breeze catches up the sound, and mocks, and 
 echoes it in every tree-top. 
 
 " I would to God, Charlotte, that I were asleep here with 
 you." 
 
 Salanda conjectures no further. She knows it now, 
 
 " Quiet company you have." 
 
 He looks about upon the little army of gravestones that 
 stand in rank and file, as if they had been soldiers encamped, 
 and petrified in their rest. 
 
 " This accursed life ; it 's death to me. It was to you. It 
 will be to me. I 'm ruined now, as you were. It 's no use 
 disguising it It 's no use resisting it. It 's my fate, as 'twas 
 yours. 
 
 " I disowned you once, I could disown myself. My 
 shame is worse than yours. Oh, Charlotte ! to know what I 
 am, and what you are. And to have such a daughter ; a 
 stranger, yet my own. To know she's mine, to see her, 
 to talk with her, to meet her every dav, to see her gradually 
 fearing to discover who I am, to love her, as heaven knows I 
 love her ; and then to be ashamed and afraid in her presence. 
 Oh, Charlotte! Charlotte! 
 
 " "Well, she 's going soon. To live much longer near her
 
 320 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 would be to claim her. She half guesses me now. I can 
 bring her nothing but a disgraced name." 
 
 Salanda, shivering (for it grows chilly, she thinks), leans for 
 support upon the nearest stone. She forms a purpose, but 
 hesitates to execute it. 
 
 " And when she 's once away, the sooner I am dead the 
 better. It 's no use to fight against it. God grant that she 
 may follow better examples. No, she must not know of me ; 
 nor of her mother. And when she 's once away, I don't care 
 how soon I 'm gone. 
 
 " Keep off ! be you angel, ghost, or devil, keep off, 
 I say !" 
 
 The Captain springs to his feet, and throws up his arms to 
 ward off the apparition. 
 
 " Father !" 
 
 There is a moment's silence. 
 
 " Dear, dear father !"
 
 XXVI. 
 
 OCTOBER, 1852. 
 
 THAT imperti- 
 nent little fellow 
 the sunshine, who 
 can never be per- 
 suaded to confine 
 himself steadily 
 
 to his proper business of taking daguerreotypes, but goes roam- 
 ing over the world, peering in where he has no manner of 
 concern to look now stealing the colors from the windoAv- 
 curtain now trespassing upon the new parlor carpet now 
 climbing stealthily upon the baby's face, who slumbers in 
 the cradle, and sitting there so heavily as to wake the little 
 sleeper now flashing from some mischievously slanted mirror 
 full in the face of a patient student across the way behaved
 
 322 CONE CUT CORNEBS. 
 
 in an especially impudent and indeed dishonest manner one 
 morning, at the house of Mrs. and Mr. Mirrium, in Division- 
 street, in the city of New York. For discovering that the 
 front room on the first floor of this house was " To Let," as 
 was confidentially announced by a manuscript in letters orig- 
 inally very small and crabbed, and now nearly smeared out 
 by the rain, which manuscript was wafered to the door-post ; 
 the little culprit clambered up over the iron railing, thence 
 got upon the window-sill, and then passing quietly through 
 the half-opened window, got down upon the floor. Nor was 
 this the sum of his transgression, but the mere commencement 
 rather. For after rolling himself about upon the carpet, and 
 playing milky-way with the dust which had been quietly 
 floating in the air, he climbed upon the bed, and there 
 stretched himself out upon the counterpane to take a nap. 
 In this gross trespass he was still engaged, when Mrs. Mir- 
 rium, the true and lawful ruler of the domain, turned the 
 key in the door, and entered the apartment. 
 
 " La, sakes !" she exclaimed. " Here 's the sun in again. 
 There won't be a color left iii the carpet, next thing." 
 
 So saying, the prudent housekeeper shut the blinds of one 
 window, and commenced to do the same at the other. Now 
 just as she drew them to, so that the invader seeing his re- 
 treat about to be cut off, leaped suddenly out at the last closing 
 blind, our old friend Paul, now no longer simply Paul, but 
 Mr. Paul Rundle, paused as he was about to pass the house, 
 attracted by the handbill. 
 
 Mrs. Mirrium eyed him through the blind, closely, but hos- 
 pitably. 
 
 Paul surveyed the exterior of the house. It was somewhat
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 323 
 
 incongruously decorated. There was a show-case upon the 
 door-step, filled with garments mysterious to Paul, upon the 
 bottom of which the show-case, not the garments was a 
 sign announcing that Dr. and Mrs. Drigg were engaged in 
 the importation and manufacture of certain articles of ladies' 
 wear, after the newest French styles and patterns ; and that 
 ladies would be confidentially attended by Mrs. Drigg. Then 
 there was the further sign, a tin sign this, and tacked upon 
 the door-post, intimating that the house was also the resi- 
 dence, or it might be only the office, of " The Copper Man," 
 whoever he might be, and that one Constantino Feltcher was 
 his secretary. Then there was the further announcement, 
 painted upon a goodly board above the window, to the effect 
 that Mrs. Mirrium kept a " Gentlemen's Furnishing Store." 
 Moreover there was a most elaborate manuscript, finished off 
 with intricate flourishes, and pen and ink sketches of winged 
 horses, a cupid aud similar devices, and framed in a gilt 
 frame, by which public attention was called to the merits of 
 Professor Tappum's Institution for the Education of Boys in 
 Writing and Commercial Arithmetic. Also an imitation- 
 silver door-plate suggested the existence of an II. Minium, 
 without revealing either title or occupation of that individual. 
 Finally, there hung upon the left hand door-post the manu- 
 script placard which Paul had noticed. 
 
 Fiuding the placard illegible from the sidewalk, he ascend- 
 ed the steps, to get a nearer view. 
 
 Mrs. Mirrium wiped off the dust that hail accumulated upon 
 the face of the looking-glass, and pushed the dressing-table 
 back snug against the wall. 
 
 " To Let," said Paul, reading to himself, and shifting his
 
 324 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 little carpet-bag from the right hand to the left ; " A front 
 parlor, furnished, -with breakfast and tea to a single gentle- 
 man, with pantries." 
 
 " I wonder," thought he, " whether these houses that all 
 have such a decided preference for single gentlemen, have n't 
 got a daughter or two a piece. Perhaps a man might many 
 after he took the rooms." And he turned to step down 
 again, yet hesitated; turned to look at the hand-bill once 
 more ; considered a moment. 
 
 " I might as well inquire," said he, thoughtfully reaching 
 toward the bell-handle. 
 
 Mrs. Minium arranged in battle array the four chairs with 
 which the room was tenanted, and smoothed out the corner of 
 the rug with her toe. 
 
 The bell rang. 
 
 Mrs. Mirriirai, standing before the glass, ruffled her feathers 
 and smoothed them down again, and was thus just ready to 
 sally forth in smiling answer to Paul's inquiry, addressed to 
 the servant, Could he see some one about the front parlor. 
 
 " The front parlor, sir ?" responded Mrs. Minium, " certain- 
 ly. Walk in, sir." 
 
 So saying, Mrs. Mirrium ushered Paul into the very front 
 parlor itself. 
 
 " This is the room, sir ;" she continued. 
 
 " And a very pleasant room it is," responded Paul, taking 
 a concise inventory of the furniture with his left eye. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Mrs. Mirrium, " that 's what all the gen- 
 tlemen I 've had always says. The very last gentleman used 
 to say, the last that ever I had in this room, he was a 
 French gentleman, and salesman in Moneypennv's great fancy
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 325 
 
 store, name of Monarquey ; (Mrs. Minium improved upon the 
 French pronunciation of this name, for she pronounced as 
 Monarquey what the gentleman referred to had been accus- 
 tomed to spell Monarque ;) a very nice gentleman he was too ; 
 one of the very nicest gentlemen I ever had ; perhaps you 
 knew him." 
 
 Paul signified that he was not acquainted with the gentle- 
 man in question. 
 
 "Oh, he was a splendid gentleman," continued Mrs. Mir- 
 rium, " always paid me every Saturday night, regular, except 
 when he took too much wine for dinner, and came home, 
 you know " 
 
 Here Mrs. Minium paused in her account of the splendor 
 of Mr. Monarque's character, intending apparently to explain 
 her meaning by a smile and a wink ; but observing that Paul 
 looked grave, and was not inclined to take a humorsome view 
 of the French lodger's peculiarities, she frustrated that inten- 
 tion, and feigning to remove from her eyelid some trouble- 
 some mote, continued. 
 
 " It 's a dreadful habit, I know," said she, " when gentlemen 
 will take so much wine that they can't conduct themselves, 
 but I suppose these French gentlemen want something to re- 
 mind them of home ; at any rate, Mr. Monarquey always paid 
 me Saturday night if he had his proper senses about him, and 
 if he did n't, he used to be so sorry the next day, and stand 
 out at the foot of the stairs of a Sunday noon in his shirt- 
 sleeves, and with a wet towel round his head, and his little 
 red velvet smoking-cap on the top of that, calling at the top 
 of his voice for me to come down and take his money ; I de- 
 clare I used to laugh so when I got up stairs, you can't think/'
 
 326 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Here Mrs. Mirrium, having entirely lost sight of that com- 
 mendatory expression regarding the apartment, which it is 
 probable that at the outset she intended to quote from Mr. 
 Monarque, dusted off the top of the bureau with her handker- 
 chief; laughing heartily, meanwhile, at the reminiscence of her 
 favorite lodger. 
 
 " You have other boarders, now, I suppose ?" said Paul, in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 " No boarders," said Mrs. Minium, " only lodgers. I let 
 the rooms, but don't give any board." 
 
 " Ah ;" said Paul. It had been a favorite idea of his to 
 take a room, and find his meals here and there through the 
 city, wherever he pleased. 
 
 " There 's the Doctor on the second floor," continued Mrs. 
 Minium, "they have all that floor three rooms and up 
 stairs, we have that story ; and the attics, there 's Mr. 
 Feltcher and his Copper Man, and there 's Mr. Sylvanus, and 
 the two Clutters." 
 
 "And the back parlor," inquired Paul, pointing to the fold- 
 ing-doors which divided that apartment from the front ; 
 " how is that occupied ?" 
 
 " Oh, that 's Professor Tappum's school. He 's only here day 
 times, about two hours. His boys are very quiet, they won't dis- 
 turb you, they don't make half the noise of the Copper Man." 
 
 " Who is the Copper Man ?" inquired Paul, " I saw his sign 
 up, but who is he ?" 
 
 " La, it 's a Society the Society of the Copper Man. Mr. 
 Feltcher 's secretary. They meet here once a month. I 'm 
 sure I don't know what they do, but they make a dreadful 
 noise sometimes."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 327 
 
 " What is the object of the Society ?" inquired Paul, not 
 feeling attracted by this account. 
 
 " Oh, it 's a secret Society you know. Bless you / don't 
 know nor I don't want to. They would n't tell me. I Ve 
 tried every way I could think of to make Mr. Feltcher tell 
 me, but I can't find out. But I never want to pry into my 
 lodgers' business as long as they 're respectable. They won't 
 disturb you, though," continued Mrs. Minium, observing that 
 Paul appeared to consider that the Copper Man would proba- 
 bly be an undesirable neighbor ; " that is, not if you 're 'way 
 down here ; Mr. Mirrium and I sleep right under Mr. Feltch- 
 er's room where they meet ; that 's the trouble." 
 
 " I believe you only take single gentlemen ?" pursued Paul. 
 
 " Only single gentlemen," returned Mrs. Mirrium. " But 
 you can't be a married gentleman, you 're too young to be a 
 married gentleman." 
 
 Paul smiled, and assured the landlady that she was correct 
 in supposing him to be single. 
 
 " I don't like to take ladies," she continued. " I had a lady 
 boarding with me once, for a while, but I found out afterwards 
 that she not only was n't a good lady, but she Avas a very 
 naughty lady." 
 
 " Why there 's Mrs. Dr. Drigg, is n't there ?" inquired Paul, 
 " she lives here, does n't she ?" 
 
 " Oh, la ! I know her," exclaimed Mrs. Mirrium, " she was 
 my second cousin before she married Dr. Drigg." 
 
 " Oh," said Paul. " And you have some family of your 
 own, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Mirrium, " I Ve my husband and three 
 children. Mr. Minium 's out of town just now, he 's gone to
 
 328 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Washington. He 's writing a book on free-trade, and he 's 
 gone on to see Congress about it" 
 
 " Is lie in favor of free-trade ?" asked Paul. 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered Mrs. Mirrium. " My husband 's dyed- 
 in-the-wool free-trade, the strongest sort." 
 
 " Well," said Paul, after a few moments pause, " what are 
 your terms for this room ?" 
 
 " Eight dollars," said Mrs. Minium, " that 's for the room. 
 Fire you can furnish yourself, you have a box in the cellar for 
 coal, or it will come a dollar a week. Lights you furnish 
 yourself." 
 
 " Eight dollars a month ?" interrogated Paul. 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Mirrium. 
 
 " That don't include washing," I suppose. 
 
 " Oh, no. Washing is always extra. Six shillings a dozen, 
 I charge Mr. Feltcher ; the -other gentlemen have theirs done 
 themselves." 
 
 " Except the Copper Man," suggested Paul. " He does n't 
 have much washing I suppose." 
 
 " No," said Mrs. Mirrium, with a smile. " Nor Mr. Feltch- 
 er either, for that matter." 
 
 " Well," continued Paul, " I Ve been to several places, but 
 this room suits me better than any of the others. I shall 
 want to look a little further, but probably I shall come back 
 and take this room. You want some references, I suppose." 
 
 " Why," said Mrs. Mirrium, " I mostly have references with 
 gentlemen, but when I can see that a gentleman is a gentle- 
 man, I judge for myself. I should n't need any references 
 with a gentleman like you, for I can tell by your looks that 
 you are a gentleman that '11 do what 's right."
 
 k 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 329 
 
 " Thank you," said Paul, considerably strengthened in his 
 intention to engage the room. "I could refer you to Mr. 
 Haggle, or Mr. Change, the dry goods dealers in Broadway. 
 You know their store, perhaps." 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered Mrs. Mirrium. " I buy goods there 
 every week 'most. But I never saw you there. You 're not 
 in their store, are you ?" 
 
 " No," said Paul, " not now. I used to be. I 'm a medical 
 student now ; that is, I 'm going to be. I 've been down in 
 Maine 'most a year, and just got back this morning." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Mrs. Mirrium, as Paul turned toward the 
 door, " we should be very glad to have you take the room if 
 it suits you. I try to suit all my gentlemen, I 'm sure, just as 
 much as I can ; and I should like to have such a gentleman 
 as you." 
 
 And Paul departed to pursue his inquiries. But that night 
 found him installed in his new lodging in the front parlor of 
 the house of Mrs. and Mr. Mirrium. 
 
 Mrs. and Mr. Mirrium were named in that order by their^ 
 . humorous acquaintance, as a delicate intimation of the doubt 
 which existed in the public mind, whether Mr. Mirrium was 
 really entitled to be considered the head of the family. The 
 door-plate, as already mentioned, gave out that H. Mirrium 
 was, in its opinion, the head of the household under its guar- 
 dianship ; but this was not decisive, for although Mr. Mir- 
 ritim's given name was Henry, it was equally true that Mrs. 
 Mirrium had been christened Hannah. 
 
 Mr. Mirrium was indeed arduously engaged in great enter- 
 prises, calculated to win, at no distant day, great fame to him- 
 self and wealth for his family. But so it was, unhappily, that
 
 330 CONE CUT CORXERS. 
 
 no one of these enterprises was ever brought to that prosper- 
 ous conclusion ; Mr. Minium's versatility of talent being such 
 as to prevent him from completing any thing of consequence 
 which he undertook. 
 
 Mrs. Minium, on the other hand, occupied herself only in 
 the humbler employments of letting rooms, when she could 
 find tenants, and of furnishing such gentlemen as would in- 
 trust themselves to her hands to be furnished ; for the purpose 
 of which latter business, she turned a little room in the rear 
 of Professor Tappum's Institution, into a shop for the sale of 
 neckcloths, ready-made shirts, Cologne-water, combs and 
 brushes, and other similar articles, such as are understood to 
 constitute the furniture of a gentleman. In this branch of her 
 business, also, she was slightly assisted by her daughter, Mi.ss 
 Edwina, a young lady of the supposed age of sixteen, and 
 sadly hindered by her two sons, Howard Fry, a boy of about 
 four years and one half old whose birth had occurred at the 
 period when Mr. Minium was actively engaged in endeavor- 
 ing to establish a society for the Amelioration of the Condi- 
 tion of Prisoners, of which he hoped to be the well-salaried 
 president and Calhoun Peel, an infant, born since the com- 
 mencement of his father's devotion to the cause of free-trade. 
 And certain it was in the minds of those at all acquainted 
 with the household economy of the Miniums, that the only 
 funds enjoyed by that worthy family flowed from the coffers 
 of Mrs. Minium's gentlemen's furnishing store, or from the 
 purses of Mrs. Minium's lodgers ; which certainly contributed 
 not a little to inflame the popular doubt whether Mr. Minium 
 was entitled to be esteemed the head of the family. And to 
 those familiar with these facts, it was pleasant to contemplate
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 331 
 
 the confidence and firm faith with which Mr. Mirrium awaited 
 the brilliant issue of his successive enterprises, and assured 
 his wife, meanwhile, that she was only wasting time and 
 money in " her foolish goings on," as he was wont to style 
 the gentlemen's furnishing store and the lodgers. 
 
 Paul had a fondness for political discussion ; and he awaited 
 with some interest the return of Mr. Mirrium from Washing- 
 ton, expecting to fall easily into deep and philosophical con- 
 versations with that gentleman, upon the subject of free-trade, 
 and topics connected therewith. Mr. Mirrium at length ar- 
 rived. But no subject appeared further from his mind than 
 that of free-trade. Whether Congress and the Cabinet had 
 frowned upon the intended work, and stifled it in embryo ; 
 or whether some aspiring politician, discerning the transcend- 
 ant merit of the book, had purchased the manuscript with a 
 view to publish it in his own name, and thereby soar upward 
 in public favor on pinions stronger than his own ; or whether 
 Mr. Minium's constitutional inability to finish any thing, in- 
 terfered with his completing the volume ; Paul never 
 learned. 
 
 At all events Mr. Mirrium had no sooner returned than he 
 bought a second-hand printing-press and a limited font of 
 type, on credit ; turned his family sitting-room into a printing 
 office, and commenced the publication of " The Laborer's 
 Chronicle and Poor Man's Friend ;" a weekly journal, " devot- 
 ed to the interests of the lower classes." But it soon appeared 
 experimentally that this periodical was not destined to meet 
 with the success which its merit deserved ; inasmuch as there 
 were no laborers, every man applied to considering himself a 
 master-workman, or as good as one, and the poor men had 

 
 332 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 none of them money to spare for subscriptions to a new 
 paper. 
 
 Therefore, this journal was abandoned with its second issue; 
 and a new one started forthwith. This was intended to con- 
 tain advertisements solely ; and was to be distributed gratis 
 through all the hotels, steamboats, restaurants, railroad trains, 
 &c., &c. ; and the expenses of its publication, including a 
 handsome compensation for the editorial services of Mr. Mir- 
 riuni, were to be defrayed by assessment upon the advertisers. 
 To bear this burden the advertisers severally promised, at least 
 so Mr. Mirrium understood them, but subsequently severally 
 refused. 
 
 These enterprises having been thus brought to a conclusion, 
 Master Howard Fry melted up the greater portion of the type 
 in varions processes of lead manufacture ; while Mr. Mirrium 
 broke the press in the attempt to reconstruct it into a packing 
 machine of his own invention, " calculated," as he explained 
 to Paul, " to supersede all known modes of compressing goods 
 into a small compass." 
 
 After the accident to his press, Mr. Mirrium was for a short 
 interval without any well-defined occupation ; until he opened 
 an office down in some unknown part of the city, for the sale 
 of the Catawba wine of native American growth and manufac- 
 ture. From his Catawba agency he was never known to 
 realize any profits, partly because, in his zeal to draw custom, 
 and lay the foundations of an extensive business, it was his 
 principle to sell at retail at exactly the cost price at whole- 
 sale, besides employing a considerable quantity in giving what 
 he called " samples " gratis, to. any one who happened to call 
 in upon him. " Nor could profit be expected," he was ac- 

 
 CONK CUT CORNERS. 333 
 
 customed to observe to Paul when requesting payment of that 
 young gentleman's eight dollars in advance, to enable him to 
 pay his own office rent, " until government could be induced 
 to lay a prohibitive duty upon foreign wines. The adoption 
 of this policy," he would urge, " is earnestly to be desired, not 
 only for the happy effect it would have upon the temperance 
 cause, by checking the sale of adulterated liquors, but as a 
 wise measure of protection to the American manufacturers of 
 an article in which difference of climate and other natural ob- 
 stacles must forever prevent them, if unaided, from competing 
 with foreign countries." 
 
 In the bosom of the family of Mrs. and Mr. Mirrium, Paul 
 resided a couple of years ; sometimes, meanwhile, boarding at a 
 hotel near by, and sometimes going through a miscellaneous 
 course of restaurants. He steadily pursued his medical studies, 
 for the first few months in the capacity of assistant at a low 
 salary to a neighboring druggist, and afterward reading un- 
 der the direction of a regular practitioner, and attending the 
 lectures of a medical school of high repute. These studies 
 were interspersed to a limited extent with some of the usual 
 recreations of a medical student in the city. 
 
 In the latter he often enjoyed the company of his cousin 
 Jason. It is true that Jason was far less cautious and prudent 
 in his amusements than was Paul, and often exceeded the 
 limits of moderation which Paul prescribed for himself. But 
 the two were excellent friends nevertheless, and often com- 
 panions. It was not in Paul's nature to resist Jason's cor- 
 diality, nor in Jason's to be offended at Paul's good sense. 
 
 Occupied by these his studies and pursuits, and cheered by 
 the companionship of his fellow-students, and the parental
 
 334 CONK CUT CORNERS. 
 
 care of Mrs. and Mr. Mirriurn, Paul trudged steadily onward 
 toward that professional degree which he had made the object 
 of his ambition ; pausing sometimes in intervals of study, to 
 read in the distant future of imagination, his expected diploma, 
 and the wished-for title, PAUL RUNDLE, M.D.
 
 XXVII. 
 
 DECEMBER 31, 18.52. 
 JANUARY 1, 1858. 
 
 IT was Friday 
 evening ; the last 
 night of the year. 
 The great solar 
 light had been 
 turned down in 
 
 the West. Night drew her curtains ; and Nature went to sleep. 
 But New York, like a naughty, restless little boy, laid wide 
 awake, winking his bright eyes at the stars. He talked busily 
 to himself in a murmuring tone of voice, and now and then 
 you might have heard him hum the fragment of some merry 
 song. He moved restlessly, too, from time to time, as if 
 thinking of some active game which his \veary feet had not 
 quite forgotten. 
 
 But at last the busy murmur of the great city hushed.
 
 336 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 One by one, the noises of evening, slinking to their 
 hiding-places, were lost to the ear. The barrel-organ having 
 sung to sleep all the children of its neighborhood, even 
 those itself had waked, went slowly and unwillingly to its 
 dark quarters, in a cellar at the end of that long narrow 
 alley. The apple-women, whose flaring lights had con- 
 tributed to the illumination of the street all the evening, 
 at last packed their stale, half-frozen fruit away, to be 
 polished again for exhibition in the morning, dissected their 
 stalls, extinguished their smoking lamps, and were seen no 
 more. The dealers in hot cakes and pies, whose carts, half- 
 rockaway, half wheelbarrow, had sheltered them all day from 
 omnibus-wheels, and who saved the expense of private lights 
 in the evening by getting behind lamp-posts in the open 
 angles of streets, made preparations to move, ate their 
 last pieces of pie as an economical supper, trundled their 
 whole establishments away from the brilliant thoroughfares, 
 and disappeared in dark bye-streets. The itinerant market- 
 men who had stationed their rickety wagons of questionable 
 provisions upon frequented corners of the poorer streets, 
 ceased their unintelligible cries, and started up their lank and 
 bony steeds for home if homes they had. Even the news- 
 boys, who, late in the evening, had unexpectedly broken out 
 with an extra, and shrieked a dreadful accident and loss of 
 life, from the Battery to Bull's Head, at last became resigned 
 to the calamity, stopped their cries, and went gasping home. 
 
 One after another, the little corner groceries retired within 
 themselves; the barrels of faded vegetables and piles of 
 painted pails which had been dozing on the sidewalk since 
 morning, wetit in to spend the night ; the basket of cocoa-
 
 CONE CUT COKNliRS. 337 
 
 nuts that had each grinned mechanically all day at the pas- 
 sers-by, delighting to deceive the little boys into the belief 
 that they were monkeys' heads, retired within, and mounted 
 watch upon the counter. 
 
 One after another, the illuminated fronts of the theaters 
 grew dark, as the crowd of jaded pleasure-seekers poured out 
 from their long imprisonment. 
 
 Among the last of one of these crowds were three young 
 gentlemen, who walked away arm in arm from the threshold 
 of the theater in Broadway, and conversed in a joyous and 
 merry manner as they went up that thoroughfare. They had 
 been improving the evening it being impressed upon their 
 minds that it was the last evening they would ever enjoy in 
 1852 by devoting their time and attention to a lesson at the 
 great perhaps the greatest school of moral reform which 
 civilized institutions afford and now having learned some what 
 of decorum by listening to profanity, and something of moral- 
 ity by mingling in circles quite above morality, they were, 
 it may be supposed, going home, revolving in their minds 
 those happy and wholesome reflections which the mirror, thus 
 held up to nature, had cast 
 
 " Well, fellows," said one of them, whose voice ought to be 
 familiar by this time to the reader, for it was that of Jason 
 Chesslebury, " where next ?" 
 
 And he stopped his companions upon a corner. 
 
 Really, it seemed difficult for them to cease their motion, 
 for they swayed to and fro as if walking, although making no 
 progress. 
 
 " /tell you where I'm going" said one of his companions, 
 emphasizing the first and last words of each sentence with a 
 15
 
 338 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 feeble gesture. " / tell 5-011 where I 'm going. Now '* the 
 time for supper" 
 
 " Oh, you had better go home," interrupted the third mem- 
 ber of the party, who had evidently profited the least of them 
 all by the lessons of the evening. " You had better go home,"' 
 said he. 
 
 " Home ! sweet home ! Oh, yes, we '11 all go home. Down 
 among the dead men." 
 
 ' Phil-hi-lip," said Jason, his tone of sober earnestness- 
 somewhat marred by the interruptions of hiccough, " Philip, 
 your 're in-hintoxicated. You Ve been drinking too much/' 
 
 " Oh, come along," remonstrated the third gentleman, with 
 some impatience. " Come, come, I 'm in a hurry." 
 
 " Hurry ?" said Philip Fawley, inquiringly. " Hurry ? 
 Oh yes ! Hurry ! Tell him to hurry. Fetch along another 
 bottle." 
 
 " Hold on," said Jason, turning toward a lamp-post, and 
 pointing with a crooked finger at the gas-light. " Seems to 
 me that 's very small, sm-h-hall for a full moon." 
 
 " Oh, you 're as drunk as you can be, both of you," said 
 the other. 
 
 " No," said Jason, " I 'm not drunk. I deny the fact. I 'm 
 not at all. I 'm only hungry. I 'm s' 'ungry that I can 
 hardly stan'." 
 
 " Tm not drunk 's / can be," said Mr. Fawley, speaking at 
 the same time with Jason. " Not by a good deal. I can be 
 a good d'l drunker 'n this." 
 
 They were just at this moment standing at the head of a 
 flight of stairs, leading down to a brilliantly-lighted basement. 
 It was a prominent Broadway restaurant. Jason took hold
 
 COKE CUT CORNERS. 339 
 
 of the lamp-post, to prevent it from foiling over, which it 
 seemed much inclined to do. 
 
 Jason being hungry, and Philip being thirsty, it was deter- 
 mined to go in to supper. Then pretty soon Jason had a 
 consciousness that the lamp-post left him and went away, 
 end that there were a great many lights about, and a very 
 warm and fragrant atmosphere, and a clinking of glasses, 
 and a noise of much conversation and loud laughter, and a 
 crowd of people, and a great smoke of cigars ; and Jason 
 was holding on to a counter to prevent its sailing away from 
 him, and a gentleman in shirt-sleeves behind the counter was 
 pouring out a glass of brandy for another gentleman, and was 
 saying : 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Chesslebury ?" 
 
 " How d' you do f returned Jason, wondering faintly who 
 it was. 
 
 " I 'm glad to see you," said the gentleman, who to Jason's 
 eyes seemed either to have grown very small, or to have gone 
 a great way off. " Don't you remember me ? Mr. Stretch/' 
 
 " How d' you do, Mr. Wretch ?" said Jason. " I 'm glad 
 to see you." 
 
 His hand, dropping the counter, rose to salute the hand of 
 Mr. Stretch, but forgetting its purpose, suddenly grasped the 
 glass of brandy, and poured it down Jason's throat. 
 
 Then Jason asked Mr. Stretch if he had been admitted to 
 the bar, and then somebody laughed, and then when the 
 room turned around, Jason had an idea that the counter got 
 away from him, and the floor tumbled up and struck him on 
 the head, and somebody said " he 's drunk," and he wondered 
 who was drunk, and he could not think what had become of
 
 340 COKE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Jason L. Chesslebury, whom ho had a confused idea of having 
 left at the theater, and then he ceased to have any ideas at 
 all, and went out of consciousness altogether. 
 
 One by one in the streets of the darkening city, the shut- 
 1 ters of the cigar-shops went up. One by one the lights ap- 
 peared in the third story windows, and one by one they faded 
 out. One by one the blight oyster balloons, which marked 
 the corners of less frequented streets, descended and rose 
 again invisible. One by one the brilliant windows of the 
 druggists' shops, grew dim, and the colored globes, which 
 peered like hideous eyes through the broad spaces in the 
 shutters, cast grim glances on the few who, at this late hour, 
 were passing. One by one the tardiest omnibuses finished 
 their last downward trip, and trundled heavily up, making 
 more noise in the deserted thoroughfare than all the bustle 
 of the day. One after another, each of the policemen stationed 
 in the streets, found an easy seat and a nice place to rest 
 his back, in the corner by the coal-bin, or on <in empty ash-box 
 turned up against a lamp-post. 
 
 Time approached the smallest of the small hours. The 
 clocks of New York, which are so accurate that they take 
 note of the difference of their longitudes, and never strike at 
 the same instant, were one by one announcing that it was 
 next year. One by one, stumbling up into the street from 
 brightly-lighted basements, came forth various groups of light- 
 hearted, heavy-bodied gentlemen. One by one they separated 
 and disappeared. One by one the neighboring policemen, 
 whose repose their songs and laughter had disturbed for a 
 time, returned to their interrupted slumbers. And one by 
 one the hours of darkness wore away.
 
 C O N E C U T C O II N E U S . 341 
 
 Gradually and stealthily a faint tinge of light crept over the 
 slumbering city. One after another early market-carts and 
 wagons came rattling down the avenues. One by one the 
 voices of early-rising chanticleers arose in the clear, cold air, * 
 revealing a proportion of poultry resident in the metropolis, 
 which otherwise would have been quite incredible. One by 
 one, chilly-looking lads took down the shutters of early-open- 
 ing stores. One by one, early-rising servant-maids swept oft' 
 the sidewalks intrusted' to their charge. One by one the om- 
 nibuses recommenced their tiresome travels. One by one the 
 carriers of the morning papers hurried round upon their early 
 errands. One by one the avocations of the day were recom- 
 menced. One by one the noises of the day took courage and 
 spoke up. One by one the white snow-flakes that had fallen 
 during the night, grew black, going into mourning that they 
 had fallen upon pavements in the city, instead of upon fields 
 among the hills. And one by one the happy people who had 
 made the most of the holidays, awoke to a sense of relief that 
 it was all over, and entertained a gratitude that Christmas 
 comes but once a year. 
 
 " Yah-ah-aw-h'm !" 
 
 The speaker, if such he may be called, who only yawns, 
 turned over and disclosed his face to the view of the bronze 
 young lady who stood upon the mantle-piece holding the gas- 
 burner. The bronze young lady exhibited no sense of propri- 
 ety of impropriety rather under these circumstances, but 
 looked as straightforward as ever. Whether she recognized 
 Mr. Jason Chesslebury or not, it was clear that Jason did not 
 recognize her ; for opening his eyes wider, the natural action 
 of the muscles of the eyelid being assisted by much nibbing
 
 342 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 and kneading, he sat up in bed entirely regardless of the 
 bronze presence, and took a long breath. He pressed his 
 hands against his temples, his elbows standing out on each 
 side. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I'm a pretty fellow." 
 
 Apparently deeply struck with this thought, he meditated 
 upon it in silence and with half-closed eyes. 
 
 Just then the noisy street below sent up a shout of cheers 
 mingled with the rush and rumble of carts and omnibuses. 
 Hearing this, Jason opened his eyes wide, and yawned louder 
 even than before. Something strange in the surroundings of 
 his position seemed to quicken his waking senses, for he 
 looked about him to see where he was. 
 
 From a printed placard framed and hung on the door oppo- 
 site to him, and headed " RULES OF THIS HOUSE," he conjec- 
 tured that he was in a hotel. This conjecture was confirmed, 
 not only by the comfortless elegance of the room, but also by 
 dim and vague reminiscences of having been in a crowd last 
 night, and of being blissfully oblivious of the way to Wash- 
 ington Square. Through the same reminiscences, as they 
 grew by effort into recollections of evening merriment and 
 jollity, and through a returning sense of expectation some- 
 what forlorn and not at all as yet realized of a happy New 
 Year, he became inclined to believe that it was the first of 
 January, eighteen hundred and fifty-three. By his watch he 
 found that it was ten minutes of ten. By that grand golden 
 time-piece, the sun, which Nature had some hours previous 
 taken from under her pillow of eastern clouds and hung up 
 where all the world might see it, he knew that the ten indi- 
 cated by his watch was ten A.M. From all these cireura- 
 
 :
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 343 
 
 stances he formed the opinion that it was high time for him 
 to get up. 
 
 The young gentleman having arrived at this conclusion, 
 straightened himself up in bed, burrowed with both hands in 
 his disheveled hair, drew a long breath, attempted unsuccess- 
 fully another yawn, put his palms to his temples, contended 
 for a few momeats with provoking suggestions of unachieva- 
 ble hiccoughs, and then returned to his first thought, and re- 
 peated it. 
 
 " Well, I 'm a pretty fellow." 
 
 It may be doubtful whether that unprejudiced observer, the 
 bronze young lady, agreed with him in this opinion. His 
 appearance presented that kind of prettiness, which one who 
 confesses to a fondness for a clear head, bright eyes, fresh 
 breath, and elastic muscle will not envy. What there could 
 be in sleep balmy sleep to leave a gentleman in the condi- 
 tion in which it left Mr. Chesslebury this morning, passes con- 
 jecture. He looked as if instead of reposing in the arms of 
 Morpheus he had been hugged until almost smothered. He 
 appeared as if balmy sleep lighting on his " lids unsullied by a 
 tear," had crawled thence all over his countenance, making 
 wrinkles and frowns, the foot-prints of discomfort wherever 
 she went ; and had afterward spent an hour or two in the 
 balmy amusement of tying knots in his hair. 
 
 " Well," said Jason, getting up gradually, a joint at a time 
 as it were, and taking a rest against the mantle, with one 
 hand against his forehead, while he spoke, it is to be presumed 
 to the bronze young lady ; " if you ever catch me with those 
 fellows another night you '11 know it. I did n't know I was 
 such a fool. Stupid !"
 
 344 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 The bronze young lady looked still stern and steadfast, and 
 expressed no sympathy Avith Jason's feelings. How should 
 she ? Though she had not had a wink of sleep all night, she 
 had no headache, and her eyes were at least no darker than 
 usual. 
 
 The reflections of a young man of one and twenty who 
 moralizes upon his evening amusements under the influence 
 of a morning headache, are not, perhaps, the most trustworthy 
 symptoms of a thorough reform. Still Jason believed himself 
 very much in earnest in denouncing, in his thoughts, the 
 bachelor . party of which he had been a shining member the 
 evening previous ; and he honestly resolved never again to 
 join in such an unsatisfactory, jolly, heartless, ridiculous, glo- 
 rious, wretched, rollicking, miserable affair, as that of last 
 night. 
 
 " I declare," said he, " I believe I 've had enough of 'em. I 
 shan't go to supper with 'em next time. 'T\vas a good supper, 
 though. That 's a first rate place, too ; I wonder what the 
 name was. I did n't notice, it was so late going there after 
 the play. But 'twas too bad to carry on so at the theater. 
 They ought n't to have drank any thing there. 'Twas miser- 
 able sherry I had there, too. Xot fit to drink. The Cham- 
 pagne at supper, though, was pretty fair. But I 'm afraid I 
 took a glass too much. But how Phil. Fawley poured it 
 down ! I never knew such a comical fellow. But he 's a hard 
 case." 
 
 It was strange, but this was almost exactly Mr. Philip 
 Fawley's opinion of Mr. Chesslebury, as expressed by him this 
 same morning to the mutual friend, who had formed one of 
 this same bachelor party.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 345 
 
 "And Fawley is a married man too, I believe. I wonder 
 how lie got home after supper. Agreeable for Mrs. Fawley ! 
 If I were married, before I would make such a goney of my- 
 self I wonder if Salanda thinks well, she believes it 's all 
 wicked. She don't know it, and would n't believe it if she 
 were told. But the fact is, it 's all this company. We young 
 fellows ought to be careful how we get together so. As long 
 as we keep in mixed society it 's all right enough. I don't 
 believe there 's any harm in having a good time, only it 
 oughtn't to be carried too far. But these times, like last 
 night, to come out after a game supper, and be so outrage- 
 ously mellow as those fellows were actually not in a con- 
 dition to take themselves home it is well, I would have 
 gone home straight enough, only I was too tired. My knees 
 were tired, somehow, I suppose with walking so much yes- 
 terday. Ah-h. My head aches worse and worse. I wonder 
 if it would n't do me good to smoke. Not before breakfast, 
 though. I rather think I shall have to have a smaU glass of 
 brandy. It '11 clear off this headache, and settle my appetite." 
 
 Having completed his toilet superficially, he dismissed 
 Salanda and his scruples from his mind, and went down stairs, 
 lie paid his lodging, and then stepped into the bar, prescrib- 
 ing for his headache on good sound homeopathic principles 
 similia similibus curantur but taking a dose, which al- 
 though not large, was, in strictness of speech, certainly not 
 infinitesimal. From the bar he sallied out upon Broadway. 
 
 " The secret of it is," he philosophized with himself, as he 
 
 walked up that thoroughfare, " that I ought to keep out of 
 
 that kind of society. ' The fellows are well enough in their 
 
 way. But when we get together so, we don't behave as well 
 
 15*
 
 346 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 as we know how. After this, I must keep out of these buck 
 parties, and go more into mixed society. There 's no danger 
 there." 
 
 Having settled this distinction in his own mind, with much 
 satisfaction and honest comfort in the prospect of his future 
 course, Jason went into Taylor's to breakfast. Breakfast over, 
 he hesitated for some time between an omnibus and a cigar. 
 Having finally chosen the former, and taken a passage in an 
 unboiled-lobster-colored vehicle, labelled " Broadway and Fifth 
 Avenue," he was soon set down near the family mansion. 
 Arrived there, he proceeded by easy stages and with much 
 elaboration, to prepare himself for entering beneath the pro- 
 tection of that newly discovered safeguard of the virtuous 
 morals of young men Mixed Society. 
 
 Having with some difficulty satisfied his mother that there 
 were good reasons for his .last night's absence, and being 
 obliged to leave his sister very much dissatisfied, he bent his 
 steps to the work of making New Year's calls. 
 
 New Year's calls are the pet social institutions of New 
 York. By custom immemorial, every gentleman on the first 
 day of the year, calls upon all the ladies of his acquaintance ; 
 especially those whom he does not want to call upon again 
 until the long year shall roll away. By custom immemorial, 
 every gentleman that is a gentleman, calls upon all the ladies 
 whom he knows enough to call upon, and some whom he does 
 not ; and" if the number of such be not enough to weary him, 
 he locks his arm into that of any gentleman of his acquaint- 
 ance whom he happens to meet in the street, and is straight- 
 way introduced, and put on the most friendly terms with all 
 the lady friends of his comrade. By custom immemorial,
 
 CONE CUT C O U N E II S . 347 
 
 every lady that is a lady, devotes her hours, her parlors, her 
 newest dresses, and whatever sum she can raise for invest- 
 ment in refreshments, to the reception of the invariable callers. 
 By immemorial custom, the sidewalks are full of black hats, 
 best coats, spruce pantaloons, patent-leather shoes ; and silk 
 and satin is nowhere to be seen ; not even in the shut-up-for- 
 the-day windows of the dry-goods stores. 
 
 In compliance with this immemorial custom, Jason bent his 
 steps to the work of making Xew Year's calls. 
 
 As he went down the steps of the family mansion, he drew 
 from his pocket a handsome gold hunting-watch so called, 
 he was accustomed to insinuate when criticising its besetting 
 tendency to run slow, because it was always chasing time and 
 never caught it. It was one o'clock. 
 
 " Now," said he, " first for Mrs. Gulley's. What mother 
 wants me to call there for, I don't see. However, she 's a, 
 good old soul if she is a stiff-backed one. Next Mrs. AVal- 
 cotts. The Brownings is right round the corner from there, 
 and then Stuccuppe's ; that is only a block or two, I can walk 
 that. And then or no, though I guess I '11 grub at Mrs. 
 Stuccuppe's. She sets a first-rate table Xew Year's-day. I '11 
 be there about five, I guess." 
 
 With a long list in his waistcoat pocket, of places to call at, 
 and feeling very stiff and fine as to his clothes, but very lax 
 and miserable as to his brains and legs, Jason hastened for- 
 ward with what alacrity he could command, to reach the 
 protection of that safeguard of the virtuous morals of young 
 men Mixed Society. 
 
 Mixed Society received him cordially. And the first right 
 hand of fellowship which that guardian of the virtuous morals
 
 348 CONE CUT COU NEBS. 
 
 of young men extended to him, consisted of the two first 
 fingers of Mrs. Gulley. 
 
 Mrs. Gulley was a very elderly lady. She was more than 
 that, she was an ancient institution. She was ancient, not so 
 much in years, for in that respect she had not so very much 
 the advantage, or the disadvantage, if it be so considered, of 
 Mrs. Stuccuppc ; hut in this, that it was her pride to be old, 
 while it was Mrs. Stuccuppe's vanity to be young. She was 
 nn institution, for she intentionally presented to the vision of 
 the young people around her, a perpetual embodiment of the 
 graces, virtues, manners and costumes of their ancestry. On 
 these a'ccounts she wore an enormous white turban with dang- 
 ling tassels, a dress of intense blackness, set off by a semi- 
 modernized ruff of white lace about the neck. And she called 
 Jason " Master," which title gave him great dissatisfaction, 
 
 -and was the secret cause of his distaste for her. 
 ^M 
 
 " How do you do, Master Chesslebury ?" said the ancestral in- 
 stitution, receiving her visitor in great state, after approved mod- 
 els of the last century, and advancing upon him with a little cour- 
 tesy, and a very considerable sweep, as he entered the parlor door. 
 
 And as Jason made no active resistance, she shook two fin- 
 gers with him. 
 
 " And how do you do 1 how well you are looking too ; 
 and so handsome ; and grown so too ; you can not possibly 
 perceive how you have grown. Why, I recollect you when 
 you were quite an infant quite an infant," repeated the old 
 lady, as if it were an incredible thing and every way extraor- 
 dinary that Jason should have been an infant, and a fact not 
 to be believed except upon the unhesitating testimony of an 
 unimpeachable eye-witness.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 349 
 
 % , *.-.- 
 
 "Yes, you certainly have grown wonderfully," continued 
 the venerable narrator of these startling experiences. " Why I 
 recollect, Lucretia my daughter Lucre tia, Master Chesslebury." 
 
 At this parenthetic introduction, Master Chesslebury, who 
 his taken an old-fashioned mahogany chair, rises very grim, 
 bows the least possible bow, and sits down again. My daugh- 
 ter Lucretia makes a little effort to rise, but abandons it upon 
 the instant, and lets the effort pass as a recognition. It is 
 wisely done, for she is prepared for the hospitalities of the day, 
 in such a state of starch, that to sit down again would seem a 
 difficult task, and one not to be lightly incurred. 
 
 " Why, I recollect," continued the elder lady, " perfectly 
 well, how his poor dear papa brought him round here to call 
 when he was about five years old ; and he died so suddenly, 
 too, and so quite unexpectedly quite cut down, as I may say, 
 i;i the flower of his youth at least he always seemed young, 
 you know, to an old lady like me. And then they did not 
 really know what the matter was until after he died, did they ? 
 though that is very often the way with the doctors ; they 
 know just how to cure you after you 've died ; or, as we used 
 to say when I was young, I recollect, they always let the 
 horse out after they shut the stable door ; and so let me sec ; 
 what was I saying ? oh ! yes, I recollect, I was saying how 
 much you have grown, Master Chesslebury, and so tall, too ; 
 and you look very much like your papa, only it seems to mo 
 you have got your mother's eyes don't they ever tell you 
 y.m resemble your papa?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Yes, except the eyes. But dear me, though, won't you 
 take some refreshments 1"
 
 350 c o ?: E c r T c o u x E n s . 
 
 -Xo, I " 
 
 " Oh, certainly, you will take some refreshments, Lucretia, 
 my dear " 
 
 Lucretia, my dear, rose from her seat and sailed along the 
 floor to the refreshment-table in the back parlor. At least 
 she seemed to sail. There was no appearance of walking. 
 
 "Oh, certainly," said Mrs. Gulley, rising and convoying 
 Master Chesslebury in the wake of the bark Lucretia, " you 
 must not refuse to take some refreshments ; a little something, 
 some cake at least. It 's an old-fashioned cake, but it used to 
 be thought very nice I remember when I was young. And 
 you '11 take a glass of wine with my daughter Lucretia. Lu- 
 cretia, child, pour Master Chesslebury a glass of wine.'' 
 
 My daughter Lucretia, a child it may be observed, whose 
 age could not, by the most liberal allowance, be computed to 
 fall within twenty-three years, poured out a glass of a rich 
 red-looking wine, and handed it to Jason across the table. 
 
 Jason, indicating by a bow to mother and daughter, which 
 they acknowledged by ancestral courtesies, that it was his 
 chief purpose to evince his high respect for them, and his 
 sincere desire that the health of each might be improved, 
 strengthened, and perpetuated, drank the contents of the 
 glass. 
 
 And this was his first lesson in moral reform, taught by 
 that guardian of the virtuous morals of young men Mixed 
 Society. 
 
 Then with a number of remembrances for mother, and 
 polite inquiries after little sister Frederica, and a host of cau- 
 tions and good advices for himself, such as had been collected 
 by wise and saving men and women of past centuries, and
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 351 
 
 treasured up at interest in that Institution for the Savings of 
 Departed Ancestors, Mrs. Bartholomew Gulley, Jason was al- 
 lowed to slip out of the parlor into the hall. Hence he was 
 handsomely bowed into the street at the front door, by a 
 gray-headed, white neck-clothed, solemn-visaged, black-coated, 
 respectably knee-buckled, old serving man ; a serving man 
 evidently selected by Mrs. Gulley as her first choice from the 
 storehouse of the seventeenth century. 
 
 And thus Jason spent the remainder of the afternoon, 
 under the tuition of that guardian of the virtuous morals of 
 young men Mixed Society. 
 
 That prudent, yet considerate and liberal instructress, in- 
 dulged him without apprehension of danger in that social 
 converse and enjoyment which he had found he could not 
 safely seek in the convivialities of young men. Under her 
 protection, he felt himself safe. He quite recovered from his 
 headache, and became lively and even brilliant in conversa- 
 tion. He was very careful too to take wine but very seldom. 
 Although in the course of his calls wine was often offered to 
 him, and pressed upon him even, yet under the influence of 
 his newly-chosen preceptress, he declined it, except in cases 
 where there was some special reason rendering it almost per- 
 emptory in that particular instance to accept it. 
 
 Thus, after leaving Mrs. Gulley's, he took wine with Miss 
 Botherbody, because she urfjed him to, and would not hear 
 of his saying no, and he really could not avoid it without 
 being positively rude, which of course was not to be thought 
 of on New Year's-day. And he took wine with Miss Ju- 
 berry, because she was a splendid-looking girl, and he was 
 proud to. He took wine with Miss Noddies, because he did
 
 352 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 not like her, and was glad of something to interrupt her con- 
 versation ; and he took wine with Miss De Peyster, because 
 he liked her, and wanted to prolong his call. He took wine 
 at Mrs. Hoozsters, because there he met Mrs. MacMerry, who 
 was spending the day to receive calls, and Mrs. MacMerry 
 asked him to break a bottle of Champagne for her, which of 
 course he could not refuse to do. And finally he took wine 
 at Mrs. Wrysen's, because her coffee was cold, and there was 
 nothing else to take out the taste of her detestable French 
 
 One or two dry calls after the French kisses brought Jason 
 to Mrs. Stuccuppe's. 
 
 Mrs. Stuccuppe's parlors were perhaps the most elegant 
 parlors on Fifth Avenue. Mr. Stuccuppe had about a year 
 previously made a large accession to his fortune through a 
 partial failure of the wheat-crop, and the consequent distress 
 and starvation of all who could not buy breadstuff's of the 
 Stuccuppe speculators at the Stuccuppe prices ; and a part of 
 his newly-acquired wealth was invested in a family mansion 
 built to order, at a great expense. But although the edifice 
 was showy and expensive in itself, the primal object in its 
 construction being to overshadow all surrounding mansions, 
 the great pride and glory of the Stuccuppe's was in its furni- 
 ture and appointments. 
 
 The mansion was a large square mansion, with a capacious 
 round hall in the middle, rising from a marble floor on the 
 lower story, up through battlements of bannisters, to a dome 
 and a lantern of parti-colored glass in the roof. There were 
 niches in the walls, inhabited by rich marbles. One in par- 
 ticular, a statue of Diana or according to Mr. Sagory St.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 353 
 
 Julien a statute of Di'nah stood at the Load of the first flight 
 of stairs, giving one at the first glance a notion of a young 
 lady awakened in the night by a cry of fire, and rushing down 
 stairs in very inadequate apparel. 
 
 Opening out of this hall in various directions were parlors, 
 drawing-rooms, a library, and many distracting conveniences 
 and luxuries. 
 
 In the parlors, into which Jason was promptly ushered by 
 the attentive Sagory St. Julien, mirrors were the ' principal 
 feature. They hung between the windows, they stood ir ion 
 the mantle-shelves, they clung to the walls. Not little mirrors 
 these, by which to give one's hair the finishing touch, but hug 3 
 sheets of glass covering whole sections of wall, and multiply- 
 ing people in a manner quite delightful to gregarious humani- 
 ly ; so that a select party in the Stuccuppe parlors looked like 
 a mass meeting ; and a solitary caller, Avhen she took her seat 
 upon the sofa to await the answer to her inquiry whether Mrs. 
 Stuccuppe were in, took on the aspect of a family who had 
 come in to spend the afternoon. 
 
 These mirrored parlors were now well filled with gentlemen, 
 taking lessons from that guardian of the virtuous morals of 
 young men Mixed Society. 
 
 Jason, as he entered, became conscious of a crowd, a rust- 
 ling of dresses, a loud murmur of conversation, much laughter 
 and merriment, and some clinking of plates and glasses. He 
 observed that he bowed his way through the crowd, and ho 
 was quite aware of becoming part and parcel of the confusion 
 of the scene. After making several comprehensive bows to 
 express the compliments of the season to Mixed Society in 
 general, and having more specifically paid his respects to Mrs.
 
 354 COXE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Stuccuppe, who stood in state between the windows to receive 
 the company, then, going in regular order around the room, 
 the first person he addressed was Miss Arabella Stuccuppe. 
 She was at the moment conversing with a gentleman ; a 
 young gentleman with a large mustache and a pair of legs 
 like bean-poles, clothed with pantaloons patterned to repre- 
 sent the climbing vine. Jason wished her a happy new year. 
 So he said. Miss Arabella turned from the middle of a humor- 
 some story then being related by the climbing-vine pantaloons 
 gentleman. 
 
 "A happy new year to you, Mr. Chesslebury," said she. 
 t: I am glad to see you out too, this year. Do you know 
 mother and I got into quite a quarrel about you this morning ? 
 I said you would make calls this year, and she said you would 
 not ; and really we had quite a terrible dispute about it you 
 know for so little a matter. For ma is so obstinate when she 
 once says any thing, and I was very positive you would come 
 round to see us, at least." 
 
 This with much smiling and nodding of the head, and fold- 
 ing and unfolding of the fan. 
 
 " No ! but rearly though," said the climbing-vine pantaloons 
 gentleman, coming to Jason's rescue, " you are altogether too 
 hard on us, when you deprive us, you know, of the a 
 rociety a of the deaw ladies. How could Ave live you 
 know a without them ?" 
 
 Jason was then introduced to the climbing-vine pantaloons 
 gentleman. Of course neither gentleman understood from 
 Miss -Stuccuppe's introduction, which was after the most ap- 
 proved style of indistinctness, what the other gentleman's 
 name was. They were, however, mutually charmed to make
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 355 
 
 each other's acquaintance, and so stated. This sentiment 
 being expressed, conversation was at a stand for a moment. 
 Then Jason ventured an original remark. 
 
 " It is a beautiful day." 
 
 " Yes ?" said Miss Stuccuppe, inquiringly. " I really have 
 not noticed. You gentlemen appropriate it altogether to 
 yourselves so. It is too bad of you. Quite -wicked." 
 
 " Yes," said the cliinbing-vine pantaloons gentleman, with 
 that elegant languor of tone, known in less refined circles as a 
 drawl, " rearly a beautiful day. Indeed a the most beau- 
 tiful day we 've had this year a ha ! ha ! This year you 
 know, eh ? We have n't had any other day this year you 
 know. Ha ! Ha !" 
 
 Then Jason passed on to make room for a new comer, and 
 the climbing-vine pantaloons gentleman went in the other 
 direction, to repeat his joke, always received with enthusiastic 
 applause. As they passed each other, Jason had a conscious- 
 ness of being very careful not to brush against him, and a 
 sense of being necessitated to walk with some care, and he 
 had a faint idea that something was the matter with his legs, 
 and concluded his boots were too small for him. 
 
 Then having talked with some ladies who would not 
 answer, and having been talked to by some ladies who would 
 not wait to hear an answer, and having fallen into the hands 
 of the youngest Miss Stuccuppe, who had traveled, and knew 
 more about endogenous vegetation than he thought he was in 
 a condition to understand, and having at last somehow or 
 other escaped from her, he had an idea that the climbing- 
 vine pantaloons gentleman took her off his hands, he seemed 
 finally to find his way through the crowd, picking his steps
 
 35C CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 carefully toward the table. Here he mingled among a num- 
 ber of gentlemen who were regaling themselves, and talking 
 rather loud between mouthfuls. And here, secure in the pro- 
 tection of that guardian of the virtuous morals of young 
 men Mixed Society, Jason proceeded without fear to apply 
 himself to the business of making a good meal. 
 
 Here he thought he found some fellows he had seen before, 
 who did not seem to know him, and some fellows who looked 
 at him as if they knew him, whom he had never seen before. 
 He took care to recognize them all, and was very careful not 
 to stumble against any of them, nor tread on any one's toes. 
 He came very near interfering with the equilibrium of sundry 
 dishes, in passage from the table, but by great care, and by 
 fully preconcerting all his movements, he preserved the 
 strictest decorum. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon, and things went about as it 
 happened at the table. Jason thought he was making a very 
 good meal. It seemed to him that he succeeded in doing so 
 without spilling any thing of any consequence either. In 
 fact, nothing ; except, on the table, an oyster, which he had a 
 vague impression came up with a spoon ; and on his vest, a 
 wine-glass of port, which he believed came off with his hand- 
 kerchief; and on the carpet, a piece of Charlotte Kusse, which 
 he sent under the table, very neatly, as he fancied, by a simple 
 and ingenious movement of the foot. 
 
 Having satisfied his present appetite with some pounds of 
 cure, he guarded against a future one by several ounces of 
 sweet preventions. Then with a consciousness of remarking 
 (to whom it might concern, as it were), that he had done very 
 well, he thought he took another glass of port, to replace the
 
 CONECUTCORNEltS. 357 
 
 one that had gone down outside, and then, if he were not mis- 
 taken, he turned to go away. 
 
 If his senses did not deceive him, Jason L. Chesslebury was 
 having a capital time. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Miss Stuccuppe." 
 
 He thought he heard Jason L. Chesslebury say this, and it 
 seemed to him that that gentleman bowed rather*handsomely 
 to the eldest daughter of the house. 
 
 " Good afternoon," said she. 
 
 He was quite certain Jason L. Chesslebury heard her. 
 
 " But stop," she cried, and he was conscious of her overtak- 
 ing Mr. Chesslebury, and tapping his shoulder with her fan. 
 " You have n't taken any refreshments." 
 
 " Why, really ; I I quite the contrary, I assure you." 
 
 He had the impression that Mr. Chesslebury made some 
 such answer as this. 
 
 " But will you not take a glass of wine ?" 
 
 He had an idea that Jason L. Chesslebury said, " I thank 
 you ;" but whether assenting or declining, he did not clearly 
 understand. 
 
 " Oh, yes !" cried the young lady. 
 
 Then he observed that with most bewitching boldness she 
 took Mr. Jason L. Chesslebury's arm, and they walked away 
 from the door. 
 
 " Mr. Chesslebury you will pardon me I know for being so 
 neglectful, but you see just how it is. There is such a crowd 
 of these people, and you know every one must be attended to. 
 But some of them are so stupid. They are 'slow 'as you 
 gentlemen say. Do you know I think you gentlemen have a 
 great many capital words for such things, Mr. Chesslebury?"
 
 358 COXECUTCORNEHS. 
 
 He was quite sure Miss Stuccuppe said all this to Jason L. 
 Chesslebury, and he wondered whether that gentleman under- 
 stood it. He also thought that the lady raised her glass and 
 that Mr. Chesslebuiy did too. And he rather wondered at 
 him for drinking any more wine. 
 
 " There 's poor old Dr. Hummer," continued Miss Stuccuppe, 
 animatedly ;" do look at him now. Did you ever see any 
 thing so stupid ?" 
 
 There he stood. Poor old Dr. Hummer was a rich middle 
 aged man. A physician by profession, but a very harmless 
 man, for he never practiced. He had spent the best years of 
 his life in bachelorhood, but now it was commonly reported 
 that he was seeking an investment for the rest of his days in 
 the bonds and mortgages of wedlock. He was a very sensi- 
 ble person, considering how he had been brought up ; still he 
 had admission into the Stuccuppe circle by virtue of the con- 
 siderations above-named. He was not usually inclined to 
 avail himself of the pleasures of this society ; but now impel- 
 led perhaps by curiosity, perhaps by more important motives, 
 he had set himself upon a round of calls. At this moment 
 he stood in the middle of the room balanced in uncertainty. 
 He looked as if he were growing old as he stood. 
 
 " He counts, let me see, I am sure I don't know how many," 
 cried Miss Stuccuppe. " How many do you think we had at 
 three o'clock Mr. Chesslebury ? I counted the names at 
 three." 
 
 He imagined that Mr. Chesslebury intended to say, " I am 
 sure I don't know," but he did not understand him to say it 
 very distinctly. 
 
 " Why, my dear Dr. Hummer," cried the young lady, as
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 359 
 
 that gentleman approached Miss Stuccuppe as affording the 
 most favorable opening for him to enter into conversation. 
 "Why! where have you kept yourself? You're a great 
 stranger." 
 
 It then appeared to Jason, that Miss Stuccuppe left Mr. 
 Jason L. Chesslebury, to speak to Dr. Hummer, and that Mr. 
 Jason L. Chesslebury turned to go out, but did not seem to 
 know the Avay, for the door, which he pulled at in vain, in the 
 endeavor to open, would not move, and the people in that 
 part of the room turned and seemed, as he thought, very 
 much surprised that it would not ; until he thought he heard 
 somebody say that that was the wrong door. Somebody 
 making himself very officious in attempting to set Mr. Chessle- 
 bury right, he perceived that that gentleman was annoyed, 
 and heard him remonstrate at being interfered with. 
 
 At last he noticed that Jason L. Chesslebury was upon the 
 front door-step; and also observed that the street ran the 
 wrong way. 
 
 Upon the side-walk, he perceived that Mr. Chesslebury next 
 was, and that he there met two gentlemen, arm in arm. Ho 
 noticed very particularly that Mr. Chesslebury was extremely 
 careful to turn out widely for them, and that he went right 
 between them. 
 
 Then pretty soon he thought he heard Jason L. Chessle- 
 bury at home, telling his sister that he was all right. He re- 
 monstrated with him for saying so, but to no effect. Then his 
 bed-room came down stairs, and he helped to put Jason to 
 bed, and they both went to sleep together. 
 
 It was in his own familiar room at home, and beneath a
 
 360 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Sabbath atmosphere and light, that Jason awoke upon the 
 next morning. And as he slowly struggled into conscious- 
 ness, and the recollection of the experiences of New Year's- 
 day came at length distinctly to him, he felt bitterly the need 
 of some higher protection from the temptations of life, than he 
 had enjoyed while under the guidance of that renowned guar- 
 dian of the virtuous morals of young men Mixed Society.
 
 XXVIII 
 
 MAT, 1854. 
 
 SALANDA took some 
 interest in politics. 
 
 Of course she did 
 not understand the 
 subject ; of course, 
 being a woman, she 
 was quite incapable 
 
 of that. Of course her gentle, sensitive, noble nature was 
 altogether too refined and delicate to take any part in the low, 
 and as times go now, one might almost say, the vulgar sphere 
 of statesmanship. But notwithstanding these undeniable 
 facts, Salanda did take an interest in politics. 
 
 It is not probable that she would ever have turned her at- 
 tention to such matters, if it had not been that certain mis- 
 guided and senseless persons, urged on by a desire for an un- 
 enviable distinction, and by an unscrupulous love of power, 
 and followed blindly by a crowd of partizan tools, made, per- 
 force, a political platform out of planks which had always 
 16
 
 362 OONE CUT CO-RKERS- 
 
 theretofore been considered as merely domestic, or perhaps 
 moral, or at the very furthest, religious timber ; and which 
 .were, moreover, far too weak to be of service in the construc- 
 tion of a political edifice. For there were at that time poli- 
 ticians who were so devoid of political principles as to adopt 
 moral ones ; and those too, of the most fanatical kind. 
 
 Thus it happened that a few members of the Legislature 
 absolutely a mere handful, taking a most unconscionable ad- 
 vantage of their power as a minority, to tyrannize over the 
 helpless majority, brought forward a bill which contained, in 
 effect, but a repetition of the odious provisions of the Maine 
 law. A bill which was, in the judgment of all reasonable and 
 conservative men, an outrage upon the rights of the communi- 
 ty. A bill which violated the constitution which these very 
 men had sworn to support. A bill which proposed to legalize 
 the invasion of the houses and homes of citizens throughout 
 the State. A bill whose direct effect it was to cut off a vast 
 branch of commerce and manufactures, upon the leaves of 
 which hundreds of most worthy and respectable caterpillars 
 were feeding and growing fat. A bill which contemplated 
 the commission of plunder, and the destruction of property 
 under the guise of law. A bill which, throughout the com- 
 monwealth, would turn loafers and vagabonds out of their 
 only employment. A bill which denied and trampled upon 
 the natural right of every man to engage in the business of 
 his choice. A bill so repulsive to the universal moral sense of 
 the community, that even if it became a law, it was not possi- 
 ble that it should ever be enforced. 
 
 And therefore, one would suppose, it could never do any of 
 these dreadful things after all
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 363 
 
 It was for such objects as these that the tyrannical minori- 
 ty labored most obstinately. It was for the passage of such 
 a law as this that they worked unceasingly. 
 
 All sensible, sober-minded, and unprejudiced men in Cone 
 Cut Corners, including of course, the ex-deacon and Gregory 
 ^Donoe, were opposed from the start, to any such iniquity. 
 The discussion arose very gradually in Cone Cut. But like 
 sharp-sighted, forecasting men that they were, the conserva- 
 tives of that village saw the contest approaching, and their op- 
 position to the measure advocated by the tyrannical minority, 
 was, from the first, consistent, zealous, and unremitting. 
 
 After one or two preliminary failures incurred by the tyran- 
 nical minority, the time approached at which it was expected 
 the struggle would be decided. As the crisis advanced, both 
 sides fortified themselves for the contest. The town was filled 
 with excitement. No wonder that the question at issue en- 
 listed the attention of Salanda. 
 
 The discussion of the proposed law, in Cone Cut Corners com- 
 menced in Gregory Donoe's store, the disputants taking sides 
 upon the negative unanimously. Thence it spread into the 
 other stores of the village, the post-office, the academy recess, 
 the workshops, and even into the town meeting. For the in- 
 stigators of the evil were determined to make the question a 
 political question. Not all the remonstrances of the good and 
 wise men of Cone Cut could prevent this. It was urged again 
 and again that temperance was not a proper subject of politi- 
 cal excitement or of legislation ; that it was a duty of moral 
 obligation merely; that it ought to be recommended by 
 moral considerations and suasions solely, and enforced only 
 by religious sanctions, and not to be commanded by statutes
 
 364 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 or compelled by penalties. That it was the province of Chris- 
 tianity, and not of Law to make men temperate. 
 
 But notwithstanding the self-evident force and soundness 
 of these views, the fanatics insisted upon degrading temper- 
 ance to the level of politics. And as it gradually became ap- 
 parent that temperance could and would be made a political 
 question, and that too with very considerable advantage, the 
 conservatives, with that candid submission which distinguishes 
 an honorable opponent, and that versatility of talent which is 
 so essential to the character of an able statesman, turned to, 
 and rivaled the fanatics themselves, in making political cap- 
 ital out of temperance. & 
 
 But even this success did not satisfy the radical disorgan- 
 izes. They would not consent to leave the moral and relig- 
 ious bearings of temperance out of sight in the discussion. 
 They would persist in still treating the subject as a religious 
 one. They even insisted upon introducing this question of 
 mere party politics into the church. The conservatives, who 
 were not willing that temperance should be dragged into the 
 pulpit, where Paul put it, between righteousness and the judg- 
 ment to come, but rather concurred with Felix that it ought 
 to be deferred to a more convenient season, remonstrated ; 
 but party politics would go in. 
 
 Elder Graynes insisted on agitating the theme, and at even- 
 ing lectures, and even once or twice in public service on the 
 Sabbath, earnestly urged his church to the performance of 
 their duty as Christian men, in reference to this important 
 subject. Ex-deacon Ficksom warned the good pastor, both in 
 public and in private, against the evils of expecting the church 
 to take any active position upon questions of social reform.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 365 
 
 and he conclusively showed that religion was never intended 
 to interfere with the business of men, nor with their relations 
 in society. But to the ex-deacon's warning Elder Graynes 
 was quite deaf. 
 
 Mr. Donoe cried out also. Mr. Donoe was not strictly a 
 religious man, but he was a very respectable man, and a 
 very correct man ; and although not a professor, he was a 
 prominent member of the society in his way, and in a certain 
 sense a valuable one ; for he held a good pew, which he paid 
 for, but seldom occupied to the exclusion of other people. 
 And Mr. Donoe said that he could not with profit listen to 
 any thing but doctrinal preaching; and that if politics 
 meaning thereby temperance were to be lugged into the 
 pulpit, he must withdraw from the society. 
 
 But Elder Graynes was obstinate ; and as might have been 
 predicted, the results which were foretold by the conserva- 
 tives as the natural consequences of his course, actually came 
 to pass: It is true that a numerical majority of his parish 
 approved his course and supported him in it ; and more than 
 that, evinced a purpose to walk in the path which he pointed 
 out for them. But the ex-deacon withdrew from the church, 
 and the storekeeper abandoned his pew and discontinued his 
 subscription ; and some others of the flock, who were equally 
 aggrieved, felt greatly scandalized. Their religion, which had 
 always been of the most delicate and refined nature, and ex- 
 ercised itself much more in sorrowing for the sins of other 
 people than in penitence for their own, shrunk like a moral 
 sensitive-plant, from rude collision with such worldly topics 
 as the cause of temperance, and from such perversion of re- 
 ligious truth as was attempted by Elder Graynes. And as
 
 366 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 they found devotion declining, they silently, and one by one, 
 dropped off. 
 
 These were not many, but considering what class of people 
 they were, it was a great loss to the spiritual strength of the 
 congregation. 
 
 But notwithstanding all that opposition could do, the in- 
 fatuation gained ground, not only in Cone Cut Corners, but 
 throughout the State, and the tyrannical minority finally suc- 
 ceeded in bringing about in the Legislature the enactment of 
 the bill for which they had labored. 
 
 The field was, however, not all their own yet. For the 
 governor, who was a temperate-minded man, one of the "ju- 
 dicious friends of temperance," whose friendship, it is to be 
 feared, was not sufficiently valued, deprecated such legislation. 
 He had not as yet even assented that temperance should be 
 made a party question ; much less was he prepared to ap- 
 prove so stringent a measure. He accordingly returned the 
 
 bill to the Legislature with his constitutional objections, ap- 
 
 "*VT 
 pealed to unprejudiced and moderate men throughout the 
 
 State for support in this unpopular position, and had his 
 name put up for a reelection. 
 
 As, however, the progress of the next canvass showed that 
 there were not so many judicious friends of temperance in the 
 State as was supposed, the cause was run away with by the 
 injudicious, the governor was dropped out, and the tyrannical 
 minority largely reenforced, were returned to renew their un- 
 constitutional schemes in the Legislature. 
 
 It could hardly be expected that the simple love of the 
 public good could prompt the ex-deacon and the storekeeper, 
 and the party with which they were connected, to more stren-
 
 CONE CTJT CORNERS. 367 
 
 nous efforts than those already made. Nevertheless, they did 
 not yet give up the contest They had an honest zeal for the 
 great interests, moral and material, of the community, and for 
 those fundamental principles of personal liberty which were 
 about to be violated. They felt, moreover, a calm and dis- 
 passionate attachment to the cause of temperance, which they 
 said such ultra and violent measures would overwhelm, and 
 bury in a re-action of popular contempt. Acting under the 
 influence of these elevated and noble principles, they resisted 
 the progress of fanaticism to the last. 
 
 The injudicious, reckless, and misguided friends of tem- 
 perance, had held several meetings in the town during the 
 progress of the discussion. These gatherings were largely 
 attended by well-meaning, but ill-judging men, who had not 
 the foresight to enable them to anticipate the baneful "in- 
 fluence which the measures proposed, must undoubtedly have 
 upon the industry and commerce of the State, and the wel- 
 fare of its citizens. And as, at these meetings misdirected 
 eloquence had exerted itself to arouse the feelings of the 
 people ; and as religion, betrayed into fanaticism, had lent its 
 countenance to their objects ; and as politicians, leaving their 
 own proper sphere, had come in and given the stimulus of 
 their meddling, they had been very successful. By means of 
 them, and the excitement which they created and fostered, 
 the public at large were, as ex-deacon Ficksom said, led 
 entirely by their noses. Laying aside common sense, and 
 respect for the rights of their opponents, they had caught up 
 the cry of prohibition. 
 
 Therefore, at the present stage of the contest, the store- 
 keeper thought it was time that a mass-meeting of the
 
 368 CONE CUT COKXERS. 
 
 conservative party should be held, for the purpose of rallying 
 opposition to the new schemes of the reformers, before it was 
 too late. For hitherto the judicious friends had held no pub- 
 lic gathering in the town. This was partly, perhaps, by 
 reason of their innate confidence in the ultimate triumph of 
 their cause, and partly by reason of their being just the 
 sort of people they were, plain men, men of few words, not 
 much given to ranting in public, and fonder of quiet discus- 
 sions in the social circles of stores and bar-rooms, than of 
 harangues and set orations in public assemblies. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was high time, Mr. Gregory Donoe said, 
 that the community should come forward and let it be under- 
 stood that fanatics were not the only people in the world, if 
 they were making such a row. 
 
 In this view the ex-deacon concurred ; and after many con- 
 sultations and deliberations between themselves, and with the 
 judicious friends of temperance at large, a plan was matured 
 for a mass-meeting of the community in general, and the pro- 
 mulgation of a universal protest against prohibition, moral- 
 politics, political-religion, and unconstitutional legislation. 
 
 This demonstration was announced by a powerfully-written 
 and economically-printed hand-bill, which called upon the 
 community to come forth, and up-rise in their might. 
 
 This handbill was the masterpiece of its composer, and was 
 executed by the Cone Cut printer in the highest style of art. 
 It commenced with the cry, uttered in trumpet tones that is 
 to say, in double-sized capitals " CITIZENS TO THE RESCUE." 
 It then proceeded in clarion notes viz., in clear fine type, to 
 warn such citizens as it might concern, that their liberties 
 were in danger, and that a mass-meeting of all persons
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 369 
 
 interested, " without distinction of party," here the clarion 
 broke out into the trumpet again, for a moment would 
 be held at a specified time and place, to devise measures 
 of self-protection. It then proceeded to state, by way of at 
 once arousing and satisfying the anticipations of the awakened 
 citizens, that their esteemed fellow-townsmen, Ezekiel Fick- 
 som and Esquire Blote, (who was one of the staunchest of 
 the judicious friends of temperance, and was moreover a 
 valued customer of Gregory Donoe,) would be among the 
 speakers, and it further stimulated curiosity by the somewhat 
 vague insinuation that distinguished speakers from abroad 
 had been invited, and were expected to be present. The 
 grounds for the latter announcement were, that Esquire Blote, 
 as a self-appointed committee of one, had privately ridden 
 abroad to call upon the said distinguished speakers, and had, 
 with much skill and diplomacy, and indirection of language, 
 put to them the question, whether they would, without 
 charge or expense to the citizens, attend the proposed rescue, 
 and lend the weight of their influence and distinguished 
 presence so said the committee of one to the movement. 
 The distinguished speakers having severally, and each for 
 himself, replied that they would not the committee of one had 
 returned and reported progress. But there was not room, of 
 course, for all this explanation in the hand-bill, which now, with 
 its last breath, gave one convulsive shriek in intoxicated 
 capitals, italicised " LIBERTY? and at this crisis of typogra- 
 phy, expired, sky-rocket like, in a flash of six distinct 
 exclamation points. 
 
 This handbill was distributed throughout the town by a 
 sincerely judicious though impoverished friend of temper- 
 16*
 
 370 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 ance, who, for a small consideration, payable chiefly in the 
 product of one of our most ^important branches of manufac- 
 ture, at Gregory Donoe's counter, left a copy with a few words 
 of explanation at the door of every family supposed to be yet 
 open to conviction upon the subject of being rescued ; and 
 who further took the trouble, voluntarily, and from the love 
 he bore the cause, to exhibit it with hortatory remarks, to 
 each passer-by whom he met in the street while on his way. . 
 
 In all these proceedings except the handbill Salanda 
 took a deep interest. It was undoubtedly to be regretted as 
 one of the innate defects of her character, or as a result of her 
 imperfect education in the duties of woman, that a question 
 so much affecting public affairs should occupy her thoughts, 
 and that she should endeavor to inform herself fully of its 
 merits, and half wish sometimes that she had a right to do or 
 say something, she scarcely knew what, upon a theme which 
 affected her interests, and came home to her personal welfare, 
 as did this. 
 
 But then it is to be recollected in excuse for this unfeminine 
 thought, that Salanda had never had those advantages of re- 
 -fined culture enjoyed by more favored young ladies who are 
 early taught the proper limits of their intellectual powers, and 
 are instructed from the outset of life to devote their gentle 
 abilities to more appropriate purposes. And if Salanda did so 
 far go out of her sphere as to form an opinion, and a decided 
 one too, (we will by no means disguise the truth in her favor), 
 upon a political subject, and if she did so far neglect her 
 duties to her father and his home, as to read what she could 
 of the history of prohibition, and if she did long, oh ! unwo- 
 manly desire, to lend her aid to protect her father even from
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 371 
 
 his constitutional liberties, let us plead for her, the ignorance 
 in which she had been brought up, and the entire absence in 
 her case, of those fortunate social conditions which interpret 
 to the fashionable ladies of the metropolis their true sphere. 
 
 We can not deny, and we will not disguise the fact that Sa- 
 landa did form an opinion upon the subject then prominent in 
 the public thoughts. More than this. Being, as a woman of 
 course would be, (nothing better could have been expected of 
 her,) quite carried away by her feelings, and her own personal 
 knowledge of the practical bearings of prohibition upon the 
 narrow circle in which she dwelt, she took no broad, compre- 
 hensive views of the abstract considerations upon which the 
 question ought to have been settled, but summarily disposed 
 of it by a mere instinctive sense of what she wished might 
 come to pass. 
 
 Thus she was not able to weigh aright the importance of 
 preserving and promoting the prosperity of the industrial in- 
 terests of the State ; she only wished that in some way her 
 father might be made more industrious. 
 
 She did not consider the inalienable rights of commerce 
 under the Constitution ; she only thought that Gregory Donoe 
 ought not to be allowed to sell liquor to her father. 
 
 She did not think of the impropriety of such legislation on 
 the part of a State as should cut down the revenues of the 
 Federal Government ; she only dreaded that her father might 
 come upon the town. 
 
 She did not reflect upon the injustice of taking and destroy- 
 ing without compensation the private property of the citizen ; 
 she only wished that the little remaining property of her father 
 might be preserved to him.
 
 372 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 She forgot the indubitable right of every man to sell what- 
 ever he might choose ; she only hoped that some day it might 
 no longer be in her father's power to buy what tempted him 
 beyond his power of resistance. 
 
 She did not bear in mind the principle that every man's 
 house is his castle ; she only longed to have it possible that 
 she should make her father's house his home. 
 
 She did not understand the intrinsic absurdity of sumptu- 
 ary laws ; she only prayed that something might stand be- 
 tween her father and his appetite. 
 
 In short it was not possible for her to examine the subject, 
 as a judicious friend of temperance should, in the abstract, 
 and taking into consideration its broad and general bearings, 
 because she knew all about it in its particulars. Thus preju- 
 diced, her opinion was entitled to but little weight, since it 
 could not be the cool, calm, dispassionate, sober, prudent, con- 
 siderate, conservative sentiment, which marks the truly judi- 
 cious friend of the cause. 
 
 As for the Captain, her father, he did not define his position 
 very clearly, at least not in words. In his capacity as fixture 
 and ornament in Gregory's store, he heard the current of dis- 
 cussion upon the subject, and was always ready to drink suc- 
 cess to the conservatives at the expense of any of them who 
 might be disposed to invite him so to do, but further than 
 this he did not pledge himself. Yet he took great interest in 
 the contest, and watched its progress with silent attention. 
 
 The evening before the dav appointed for the assembling 
 of that mass-meeting to which the community were to come 
 forth, and by which the invaders of liberty were to be frowned 
 down, at length arrived.
 
 COKE CUT CORNERS. 373 
 
 By the sitting-room window of her father's house, Salanda 
 sat, looking mournfully out upon the lengthening shadows, 
 the fading light and the setting sun. That couch of western 
 cloud on which the weary Light-bearer flung himself to rest, 
 betokened some sprinkling on the morrow of an element 
 which the judicious friends of temperance would not care 
 for. 
 
 Salanda had faithfully finished the duties of the day. Her 
 slender arms had anticipated her father's unsteady ones, in 
 bringing in the wood, and in performing other services too 
 laborious in truth for her powers. Tea, long since ready, now 
 stood cold and untouched upon the table. And still Salanda 
 sat at the window, looking out into the gathering darkness, 
 and taking sad pleasure there, congenial to her feelings. And 
 still she sat, awaiting her father's long delayed return from 
 the village. 
 
 She was almost disheartened. From wishing with a wish 
 which was repeated almost every night, that he would come, 
 and trying to devise some new attraction that might keep him 
 at home, to find some avenue as yet untried, through which 
 she might reach his heart, and win him to an alteration in his 
 course from half fearing that she should never learn how to 
 be a daughter to him, and fill aright a place as yet so new to 
 her, yet without a single regret that she had undertaken such 
 a weary task from thus sadly thinking upon her father as he 
 was now, her thoughts ran back to the night when she had 
 claimed him as a parent ; when he had acknowledged her as 
 a daughter. In retrospect she again contested with Aunt 
 Provy, who insisted that she should not leave her to dwell 
 with him. She recalled how, without faltering or regret she
 
 3"74 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 had triumphed over Aunt Provy's resistance and Calick's re- 
 monstrances, and had made her father's home, though poor 
 now, and meager, her own. 
 
 In all her sadness she thought with tearful pleasure on the 
 change. And though the future was bright there, and dark 
 here, she was still glad that she had come to him because he 
 was in trouble and alone. Wiping her eyes she cheered her- 
 self with the hope that some happy change was still in store 
 for him. Yet happy or wretched, so long as he would own 
 her for a daughter, so long the labor of her life should be to 
 fill a daughter's place to him. 
 
 And thence her thoughts recurring to that memorable 
 evening, she recalled its earlier scenes ; the walk upon the 
 valley road before the sun had quite gone down ; and Jason's 
 words to her, and her's to him. It was more than a year ago. 
 She wondered where Jason was, now. The tears came again 
 to her eyes. Had she been in any wise too hasty, or too per- 
 sistent ? Why had she repulsed the one when he was in dan- 
 ger, and clung to the other when he was overwhelmed 1 ? It 
 was the question of an instant, and as instantly answered. 
 She cherished no sorrow for the past, and accepted the doubt- 
 ful future as a chosen though a sad and solitary path. 
 
 She heard a step in the yard. It was not her father's, she 
 was sure of that Hastening to the door, she met Calick. 
 
 " Have you seen ?" 
 
 " No," said Calick. 
 
 There was a silence. 
 
 " I came up," said Calick, " to bring you a letter." 
 
 "A letter!" 
 
 " Yes."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 3*75 
 
 Calick took off his cap, and produced the letter from the 
 lining. ' -~ -< 
 
 " I hope he 's doin' well," he added. 
 
 Salanda looked at the superscription. 
 
 " Oh," said she, " from Jason." 
 
 Calick turned to go away. 
 
 " Don't go, Calick. Won't you come in ?" interposed Sa- 
 landa. 
 
 " No, thank you," saict he ; " it 's late." 
 
 " I can't think why father don't come home," said Salanda, 
 looking down the road. 
 
 It was a filial fiction, for she knew why. So did Calick. 
 
 " I 'm afeared it 's lonesome for you," said he. " I Ve 
 thought of it often. I 'd like to stop, but perhaps I 'd better 
 be a goin' down. I may meet him." 
 
 " Thank you," said Salanda. 
 
 " I '11 try and find him," said Calick. 
 
 " Oh, please do !" said Salanda, earnestly. " You 're very 
 kind. Just like yourself." 
 
 "IVe been a thinkin'," said Calick, speaking again after 
 some hesitation, " that you need somebody or somebody else 
 on the place again here sometimes, to do chores and such. 
 Things needs a little fixin' here and there." 
 
 " Indeed," said Salanda, " I wish we could have things in 
 better order. I do all I can, but that does n't go a great 
 way." 
 
 " The spring work, too ; it 's time it was done now, anyways. 
 I Ve got through the most of our 'n down home." 
 
 " Yes," said Salanda, mournfully. 
 
 "And I didn't know," continued Calick, interrogatively,
 
 3*76 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " but you bein' lonesome, and all, it might be some use to 
 you, for me to come up and stop a while ; that is if he 
 would n't say anythin' again' it ?" 
 
 " Thank you," responded Salanda ; " thank you very much, 
 very much indeed. I wish it would do." 
 
 " He would n't like ?" asked Calick. 
 
 " He 's very strange about some things," said Salanda, 
 gently. " I do not speak of you to him ; he is I don't 
 mind it at all myself, but he is very strange sometimes, and 
 he would n't like it. I don't mind what he says myself," she 
 continued, " believe me, Calick, / don't think any different 
 for it, but it would n't do. It would n't do for you to be here. 
 It would only make him feel the worse." 
 
 Calick was silent. 
 
 "I'm sorry," said he, at last, "I came up to say this. 
 Aunt Provy was a goin' to bring the letter, but I told her I 
 wanted to come myself. I 'm sorry, for you must be lone- 
 some, and I 'd be glad to be of use." 
 
 " I 'm very sorry," said Salanda ; " I hope it will be different 
 one of these dap. I 'm very grateful to you, I hope he will 
 come to thank you yet for all your kindness." 
 
 " Good-night," said Calick, and he turned away. 
 
 As he disappeared, Salanda felt as if distance was grad- 
 ually intervening between her and all her friends. She sat 
 down again in the dark sitting-room, and had no other 
 hope to comfort her, but that her father returning home, 
 might bring no more than usual of disgrace. 
 
 In these thoughts she at first forgot Jason's letter. Recol- 
 lecting it, she went to the fireplace, put on some fresh wood, 
 and stirred the fire till it blazed high, and filled the room with
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 377 
 
 a cheerful, although fitful light. Then seating herself in the 
 corner of the great settle nearest the blaze, she opened the 
 letter, and leaning forward so as to bring the fire-light upon 
 the sheet, she read it. 
 
 Jason wrote from New York. The letter "was not in his 
 usual merry vein. He said that his sister Frederica, whose 
 name he coupled with much brotherly praise, as indeed he al- 
 ways did, was very sick ; , very sick indeed. He was writing 
 in her chamber her chamber, which he thought she would 
 never leave again. He wrote, because when he was sad or in 
 trouble, he wanted to talk with Salanda, and the next best 
 thing to talking with her was to write to her, and to receive 
 one of her letters. This he said, and much more to the same 
 and further effect ; all of which interested Salanda much more 
 than it can be presumed to interest the reader. And he said 
 in addition to this, that the promise which Salanda wished 
 him to make a year ago, he had now made to his dying 
 sister. It had made her happier, she said ; and he wished 
 to make the same promise now to Salanda also, hoping, 
 that if she still felt any interest in his welfare, she would 
 find some pleasure, even at this late day, in accepting it. 
 
 Salanda had not fairly finished the perusal of the letter whefl 
 the sound of stumbling in the entry caused her hastily to fold 
 it, and conceal it in some mysterious receptacle of her dress. 
 She had just done this as the Captain entered, in the full en- 
 joyment of his constitutional liberties. 
 
 " Citi-zens-s t'-therr escue," said he, as lie came in, " t-therr 
 escue, ther escue. There," he continued, waving the open 
 handbill toward his daughter, " there, S'landermy darl'g, 
 there 's ze notice. 'Z going t' be a great dem-er, dem great
 
 378 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 demerstrashun ; that's it, a great demerstrashun t'morrow. 
 Z' Deacon's going t'speak." 
 
 " Father," said Salanda, bringing up a chair and placing it 
 in his favorite corner, " is it pleasant out to-night ?" 
 
 " 'Zt pleasant ? Ye-hes. 'Ts very pleas-n't. 'Ts beautiful. 
 'Ts going to rain. I know 'ts going to rain. I 'iu a kind of a 
 b-b'rometer-br-br I'm a kind of a br-ometer. I feel ther 
 quicks'lver when er the weather changes. I beenafalling to- 
 day. I know 'ts goingto rain. 'Ts beautiful. 'N when -er 
 citizens-scome-t'therr-escue-h I been a falling all day, an' 
 when it rains, citizens '11 getwet Salanda !" 
 
 What, father ?" 
 
 " 'R you crying, Salanda 1 Doan cry. Let ther clouds 
 cry ; don't you cry, i's their-h-business. 'S what they 're made 
 for. 'Tain't whatyouermadefor." 
 
 The Captain, after a long and rambling search upon the 
 mantle-piece, succeeded in finding his pipe there it was ex- 
 actly in its place, indeed it always was and having found it, 
 he clumsily filled it, and after one or two experiments light- 
 ed it. 
 
 " Salanda !" he continued. 
 ' " What, father ?" 
 
 " What'youthinMng about ? Say, Salanda. What'ryou- 
 thinking a-h-bout ?" 
 
 " Nothing, father. It 's tea-time." 
 
 " You thinkinga-h-bout nothing ? 'Ate a grea-teubject. 
 Nothing 'sjuss what I've been thinking 'bout. An' I'm go- 
 ing to do it. 'S juss what I 'm going to do. Nothing. 'R 
 you thinkingaboutnothing ? I don't believe't, Salanda. Young 
 lady 's old 's you are 'n Vansoine they doan sit 'n think
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 379 
 
 aboutn-n-othing. 'St they didn't when wh-whenlwasayoung 
 m-h-an." 
 
 " I was thinking, father," said Salanda, finding that he pur- 
 sued the inquiry, " that I wish we could get somebody to do 
 the farm-work." 
 
 " Farm work ?" said he. " Where isee farm-work ? 'Is 
 is n't a farm. 'Sa country seat. Farm 's a place where they 
 work. This 'sa country seat, this 'z is. Country seat 's 
 a place where they doan work, 'causetheydonorowt'work. 
 They, they do juss wha' they'reamin'to. This place's n't 
 a farm. I don't work. I use' to work when I lived 'n 
 New York. I use' to work, 'n I use' to drink. I use' to 
 drink pretty 'ard. But I don't work now. I go down to 
 Donoe's, that 's all I do, 'n to-morrow I mean to go t' ther' 
 rescue. I Ve a good min' to speak t' 'ther' rescue. Z' Dea- 
 con 's going to speak. I wonder what-h-the Deacon 's going 
 to say. Z' Deacon 's a firs' rate fellow, only he drinks. 'Ts too 
 bad th' Deacon drinks. A deacon 'at drinks '11 lie ; 'n a deacon 
 'at lies, I Ve readitsome-h-whers, some newspaper says so, 
 'at a deacon 't '11 lie, '11 steal ; '11 steal. An' a deacon 't '11 
 steal, Salanda, what '11 a deacon do ool steal ? What wont- 
 eedo ? I know what he '11 do, he '11 sw he '11 swing ; no he 
 won't swing yet, he '11 swingle. 'At 's it, he '11 sw-w-ingle. 
 'An a deacon 'at '11 swingle '11 go to Citizenstother-h-escue ! 
 Donoe 's going t' therr escue. I mean-h-to go t' therr escue. 
 I Ve juss' as gooaright'oogo 's-h-Donoe. Donoe said I was a 
 d-dog. I don't see what he w-wanted t-to call me a d-dog 
 for. I ain't a dog. I doan drinklikea d-dog. A dog doan drink 
 like me. I guess Donoe meant t' insult me. Or the dog. He 
 meant the d-dog. But I mean to go t' therr escue. I c'n go
 
 380 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 without d'ssinc'shun of party. I 'm a citizen, 'n my liberties 
 's good a right, jus' as good a right, my liberties jus' as 
 much right 's Donoe's. 
 
 " S'landa ?" 
 
 " What, father ?" said Salanda, coming forward from the 
 other side of the room, glad of an opportunity to gain her 
 father's attention. 
 
 " S'landa, see there. There 's zer notice. 'Ts the deacon's 
 own notice. See there." 
 
 And the Captain fastened up the handbill by pinning it 
 with his jack-knife against the woodwork over the fireplace. 
 
 " See there^-S'landa. . Why, you Ve been cry-h-ing, child. 
 You must n't cry. 'Ts bad times, but it.'s going t' be all right. 
 Citizens 'r comingt'-therr 'escue ; 'n when citizens comes to 
 their 'escue, 't '11 be all-1-right" 
 
 Saying this, the Captain leaned forward and took up a 
 brand from the dying fire, and held it unsteadily to the lower 
 corner of the handbill. It browned, curled up, smoked, took 
 a spark, caught in a blaze, flamed up high, and went out ; 
 leaving the Captain's jack-knife sticking through a cinder. 
 
 " There, sir," said the Captain, speaking apparently to the 
 jack-knife. " Thas 's the way I fix 'em. My liberties 's juss 
 as good a right to be per-perotected, juss as good a right 's 
 Donoe V 
 
 The next day there was great commotion in that stratum 
 of Cone Cut society which comprised the judicious friends of 
 temperance. The occasion was memorable in the town as 
 the last and expiring united effort of resistance which dying 
 liberties could make against overwhelming oppression. The
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 381 
 
 hour of the meeting was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the 
 place was a grove-shaded field just behind the academy. But 
 the greater part of the proceedings were privately rehearsed 
 during the forenoon in the back-room of Gregory Donoe's 
 stoi'e. So much of the action of the meeting as could then 
 be foreseen, was there carefully and faithfully preconcerted by 
 Messrs. Ficksom and Donoe, under the counsel of Esquire 
 Blote, and with the assistance of S. T. Taddle. 
 
 S. T. Taddle is our fellow-townsman, and a very amiable 
 citizen. To this day he lives in Cone Cut, where he still 
 keeps his store for the sale of hats and shoes. In his business, 
 extremes meet, and Mr. Taddle can clothe either ex- 
 tremity of the human form, from his numerous and well- 
 selected stock. The legitimate custom not being very active, 
 he keeps also in the same room a shop for the manufacture, 
 and more particularly for the renovation, of boots and shoes. 
 
 Mr. Taddle is a man of an intellectual turn of mind, and, 
 as his friends remark, one of the most public-spirited men in 
 the place. He takes a prominent part in town meetings ; and 
 is accustomed to join actively in any movement whatever 
 that affords scope for the erudition of " Jefferson's Manual," 
 two copies of which he always carries about his person ; one 
 in his waistcoat pocket, bound in cloth, and another an im- 
 perfect copy in his head, bound, as one might say, in calf. 
 
 The judicious friends of temperance, looking about them to 
 annex such respectability as they might, had cast their eyes 
 on S. T. Taddle, among others. They felt no particular per- 
 sonal interest in the man, as a man he was a very respect- 
 able sort of a man but they looked up to him as being the 
 very best person in all the village to lend the imposing sane-
 
 382 COKE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 tion of dignity and artistic regularity to their organization, 
 and their action. Mr. Taddle, on the other hand, felt little or 
 no interest in the cause, one way or the other ; but he viewed 
 the judicious friends of temperance as a body ; to organize 
 them, to preside over their councils, and to direct their action, 
 would be, he felt, a task worthy of himself and Jefferson. It 
 was with these mutual views that they had solicited, and he 
 had accorded, his important parliamentary services. So that 
 whenever S. T. Taddle spoke, the judicious friends every 
 man of them listened ; and whenever the judicious friends 
 would listen, Mr. Taddle and Jefferson spoke. 
 
 The first assistance which Mr. Taddle rendered to the cause, 
 consisted in requiring the movers of the meeting to erect 
 a little platform or stage, like a scaffold, whereon the more 
 prominent of the judicious friends should stand. This, al- 
 though it was not, as he explained to them, laid down in the 
 Manual, was nevertheless, he urged, an indispensable requisite 
 to a regular, formal and valid meeting. 
 
 On the forenoon of the day appointed, Mr. Taddle went 
 down to the ground chosen for the meeting, and there having 
 visited the scaffold, and tested its strength, and in his soli- 
 tude, having approved its convenience by reciting from it 
 with gestures, an appropriate, but impromptu acknowledg- 
 ment of some honor what, did not very clearly appear 
 returned with a smiling face to the store, and shortly became 
 closeted with his co-laborers a potential president with a 
 chrysalis committee. The resolutions that were then pre- 
 pared, combined so masterly an exposition of the Constitution, 
 the Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence, Magna 
 Charta, and the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments,
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 383 
 
 that when read in the afternoon, they astonished and delighted 
 the judicious friends, and sent dismay, confusion, and silence 
 upon all fanatics. 
 
 In due time, the community coming forth, gathered them- 
 selves in a crowd of men and boys around the scaffold, where 
 they found the committee, and also Mr. Taddle, who was, for 
 the fifth time, experimentally ascertaining the number of all 
 possible arrangements of a table, a pitcher, a tumbler, and the 
 Jefferson's Manual. The promise of rain which the night had 
 made was unfulfilled by the day. The weather was warm ; 
 but Nature, feeling perhaps an interest in the cause, and un- 
 willing that the judicious friends should stand in the sun, had 
 spread her parasol of clouds, and held it patiently for them all 
 the afternoon. 
 
 When the necessary and proper preliminaries had been 
 completed, during which Mr. Taddle and Jefferson seemed to 
 have it all their own way with Mr. Donoe and the ex-deacon, 
 the resolutions were read to the assembled citizens who had 
 come to the rescue. 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried the president, starting up after their 
 perusal had been accomplished, and commencing his observa- 
 tion with a gesture he had read of in " The Young American 
 Speaker," "you have heard the resolutions. What is your 
 pleasure with them." 
 
 The president sat down again. There was a pause. Gen- 
 tlemen really did not seem to know what was their pleasure. 
 
 " Gentlemen," cried president Taddle again, starting up 
 with a gesture he had learned from the "Northern Hemi- 
 sphere Orator," " is there " 
 
 Just at this juncture Mr. Ficksom interrupted him by a
 
 384 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 pull upon his coat-tail, and after a moment's conference with 
 him, that gentleman arose, and president Taddle cried out 
 again with a new gesture exclusively original this 
 
 " Allow me to introduce to you our respected and influential 
 fellow-citizen, Ezekiel Ficksom." 
 
 Thus presented, that gentleman came forward in some per- 
 spiration and much modesty, bowed to the crowd in token 
 that he was happy to form their acquaintance, and said, 
 
 "Ahem!" 
 
 At this commencement there was a sensation in the audi- 
 ence, and one small boy who had attained a precarious eleva- 
 tion in a neighboring sapling, cried out, in a high key, irrever- 
 ently, " Hooray !" 
 
 In no wise over-elated by this encouraging and cheering 
 reception, the speaker continued. 
 
 " Fellow-citizen and fellow-liberti -er fellow er friends 
 of liberty." 
 
 Here the weight of the small boy broke a branch in the top 
 of the sapling, and he came down into the crowd in a manner 
 that had the effect very materially to divert them for a few 
 moments from the eloquence which awaited their attention. 
 
 "Fellow-citizens and fellow friends of liberty," said Mr. 
 Ficksom, taking a fresh start when the excitement had sub- 
 sided, and looking around upon the faces before him as he 
 spoke. " I am called upon very unexpectedly to say something 
 to you about this law. As I rise, a sense of responsibility a 
 painful sense of responsibility of a great moral responsibility 
 of civil and political and religious influence, permeates and 
 perambulates through the recesses of my heart," 
 
 Face expressive of perambulating responsibility.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 385 
 
 " Now at the very beginning, I want to say that I for one 
 go for temperance. I wish well I believe we all wish very 
 well to the cause. We are all friends of true, honest temper- 
 ance. I have in my heart an active interest in it, and I have 
 a deep and all-pervading and overpowering sympathy for its 
 objects a sympathy which is irrepressible and can find no 
 vent." 
 
 Face expressive of irrepressible sympathy finding no vent. 
 
 " Intemperance is then, sir, a great moral evil. To stop in- 
 temperance and crime would be very good objects, indeed. 
 But the proper cure for moral evils is by moral means. Provi- 
 dence has provided proper means for every proper object, and 
 the proper remedy for a moral evil is moral suasion. And, in 
 fact, this is one of my principal objections to this prohibitory 
 law, as it is called, that it attempts by legislation to prevent 
 moral sins a thing which has never been successfully done in 
 the whole history of mankind." 
 
 " Hear ! hear !" cried the Captain, sitting up upon the knoll. 
 
 "Citizens," continued the speaker, " your applause assures 
 me that we are agreed upon this fundamental point. And 
 thus encouraged I go further, and I state boldly that in my 
 opinion such legislation is morally certain to defeat its own 
 ends. It will inevitably create an irresistible and inevitable 
 reaction that will overwhelm the cause like an avalanche 
 from the Rocky Mountains." 
 
 Face expressive of reaction like an avalanche. 
 
 " Whatever the temporary feelings of individuals, or of 
 
 communities may prompt, no sensible man can believe that 
 
 such an enactment as this can keep its place permanently on 
 
 the Statute-book of any American State. No zeal for tem- 
 
 17
 
 386 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 perance or any other good cause will warrant so gross an in- 
 vasion of personal rights as it provides. "Where is the man 
 so lost to every sense of the sacredness of liberty and the glo- 
 riousness of moral suasion, as dare say, it is right ? Where 
 is he !" 
 
 <: Hear ! hear !" cried Captain Mayfenie. 
 
 The crowd laughed. President Taddle called out " Silence." 
 
 " Yes, silence there," responded the Captain. 
 
 " Sir," continued the speaker, " moral means are the only 
 way to produce any effect on the wickedness of the human 
 heart. The rude, harsh provisions of law were never made 
 to reform men. They are not the right means to restrain the 
 appetites and passions of men, and all the depravity of the 
 human heart." 
 
 Face expressive of all the depravity of the human heart. 
 
 " I can't witness without perturbation of spirit the blow 
 which this intemperate legislation strikes at all our liberties. 
 Nobody has any right to go about to search the houses of 
 citizens, and seize their property. If one set of men may 
 have it another may. If they may have this power against 
 one species of property, they may against another. When 
 you see your neighbors reduced from affluence to poverty by 
 a single touch of this mysterious power, you will ask, Where 
 does the power come from ? what are its limits ? Or has it 
 no limits, except the will of the Legislature ? It will be found 
 then, that we have such a thing as a Constitution, and that all 
 are bound to respect its -provisions." 
 
 Face expressive of respect for provisions. 
 
 " I have," continued he, warming with his subject, " no in- 
 terest as an humble and insignificant individual in this ques-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 387 
 
 tion, which like a whirlwind is heaving up the bosom of the 
 community in convulsive and agitating throes as the vol- 
 canoes of the torrid regions cast up fire and dirt. I am here 
 not as an individual to defend my personal rights. I am 
 here," he cried, raising his tone for greater emphasis-, " I am 
 here because the sacred principles of universal liberty are in 
 danger. I wish to raise my feeble voice in " 
 
 " Louder !" suggested the Captain, in a stentorian voice. 
 
 " My feeble voice," vociferated the speaker, " in defense 
 of liberty. Liquor is not in itself injurious to any person or 
 thing, like gunpowder or other dangerous things. It is its 
 improper use or rather its abuse its consequential moral 
 operations " 
 
 Face expressive of consequential moral operations. 
 
 " rather than any direct physical effect against which 
 the law is intended to provide. Now liquor is property. 
 And no judicious friend of temperance can claim that it is 
 not. It is property, is n't it ? And while it is our property, 
 it belongs to us ; don't it ? I pause for a reply." 
 
 " I guess it does," cried the Captain. " We paid for it ; 
 did n't we Deacon ?" 
 
 " Mr. President," said Mr. Ficksom, " some person in the 
 crowd interrupts me. I appeal to this meeting, to the dignity 
 of our fellow-citizens, and to the honor of the cause, to know 
 if such interruptions are to be permitted to break in upon the 
 calm, harmonious beauty of our deliberations." 
 
 Face expressive of calm, harmonious beauty. 
 
 "Mr. President," said the Captain rising and straightening 
 himself up, and speaking in his good nature as nearly as he 
 could in the very intonations used by Mr. Ficksom. " Mr.
 
 388 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 President, I appeal to this meeting n' to the dign'ty of our 
 fellow citizens, and to the honor of the cause, to know how 
 it is if the Judicious Friends of Temperance don't want us to 
 answer 'em, what do they ask questions for V 
 
 " Order !" cried President Taddle, tapping Jefferson upon 
 the table, " Order ! Gentlemen, must not interrupt the speaker. 
 Order ! Mr. Ficksom will please proceed." 
 
 " But, Mr. President, will the gentleman please repeat the 
 question ? I think I can answer that question if I only under- 
 stand it." 
 
 At this the crowd began to thin out around the scaffold 
 and to turn toward the Captain, and gather round him. 
 
 " Order !" insisted the President at the top of his voice. 
 
 " I believe I have the floor," said the regular speaker, whose 
 knowledge of parliamentary learning comprised this phrase 
 and no more. 
 
 ""Well," answered Mr. Mayferrie from his knoll, "please 
 keep it. There 's another floor over here. I don't want to 
 take the gentleman's floor. The grass is good enough for 
 me." 
 
 The crowd gathered before the Captain encouragingly. 
 
 " You 're no gentleman," cried Mr. Ficksom, angrily. 
 
 Face expressive of no gentleman. 
 
 u Fellow-citizens," said the Captain, " those fellows are the 
 they say they are the friends of the Constitution and the 
 cause of Temperance. They 're the Judicious Friends. I 
 ain't a Friend. I ain't judicious, either. Gregory Donoe 's 
 judicious, he sells liquor. I buy liquor, I ain't judicious. 
 Perhaps that 's the difference. They Ve got the judicious 
 precepts. I 'm one of your injudicious examples."
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 389 
 
 " Fellow-citizens !" cried the President from the scaffold, 
 which was now left quite alone. " There is important business 
 before the meeting, and 'Squire Blote will address you." 
 
 "Put him down!" vociferated Mr. Donoe to his friends 
 around Mr. Mayferrie. 
 
 "Oh, I'm down now," replied Mr. Mayferrie, addressing 
 himself to the crowd, but speaking for Gregory's ear. " You Ve 
 been a putting me down ever since I Ve dealt with you. Oh ! 
 I 'm down now." 
 
 " Fellow citizens, I have heard what he 's said and it 's all 
 one of his humbugs, or one of his jokes." 
 
 " You 've been drinking !" screamed Mr. Ficksom. 
 
 "Yes! and it is one of my constitutional liberties," re- 
 turned the Captain. " I Ve been drinking to-day. I 'm thirsty 
 now. I expect to drink some more by-and-by. I ain't one 
 of your judicious men. I always drink when I 'm thirsty. 
 
 "But I tell you this is all talk what the Deacon says. 
 He says nobody 's any right to search other people's houses 
 and seize their property. He says it is n't constitutional. I 
 don't know whether it is or not, but I know when he did n't 
 think so, and that was last Tuesday night when he and Squire 
 Blote there, went up to Widow Cragin's and attached all her 
 property. Say, Deacon ! did that invade her sacred liberties 
 any ? You did it for a debt, and before you had any trial. 
 You did n't think search and seizure was unconstitutional 
 then, I guess. 
 
 " But, gentlemen, whatever they say is all talk, and it 's not 
 much use for us to answer 'em unless we 're longer-winded 
 than they are ; which we ain't. It 's not much use because 
 we 're bound to have a trial of that law, and then we can see
 
 390 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 for ourselves. For my part, I don't expect it will hurt any of 
 us except the dealers, and it won't injure them much, any 
 way. They Ve been having it all their own way with us ever 
 since we can remember ; they 're a hard-working set, and it 
 can't harm 'em much to have a little leisure. It '11 do to try 
 by way of experiment ; and I rather think we '11 find we can 
 do without 'em just as well as with. I don't know as I shall 
 ever stop drinking until they stop selling. I always drink 
 when I 'm thirsty ; and I 'm thirsty pretty much all the time 
 now-a-days. When they stop I guess we shall, and not be- 
 fore. I expect we Ve got to have the law, and we may as 
 well go in for a trial of it It won't interfere half as much 
 with Donoe there as with me, for he 's got other business to 
 carry on just the same. But for an old soaker like me, when 
 that 's stopped, I have n't much of any thing left to do. Our 
 rights are just as good as theirs, if we only knew it. 
 
 " Now I move we adjourn, for I 'm thirsty ; but first, let 's 
 have three cheers for the cause." 
 
 The cheers and laughter of the dispersing crowd came very 
 conveniently just at this juncture, because they served to 
 drown the parliamentary remonstrances of Mr. Taddle (who 
 never yet had deserted his official post), the unparliamentary 
 vituperations of Mr. Ficksom, and the extremely excited lan- 
 guage of Mr. Donoe. 
 
 "Boys," said Mr. Mayferrie, stopping and turning back. 
 " You 're citizens, and have come to the rescue. You M better 
 stay to the rescue. You 're needed. I 'm going up for a 
 drink." 
 
 Between these two recommendations the greater part of the 
 judicious Friends of Temperance then and there assembled,
 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 391 
 
 found no difficulty in deciding. Some portion of the assem- 
 bled citizens, indeed, remained clustered around the platform, 
 to hear the address of Esquire Blote, and to act upon the im- 
 portant business for the transaction of which they had been 
 called together. And thus engaged, they remained assembled 
 for a considerable time, Esquire Blote's address proving to be 
 somewhat longer than might have been expected from the as- 
 surances given by him at its commencement. 
 
 But the greater portion of the meeting retired, obedient to 
 the suggestion of the Captain, and a short time afterward 
 saw them more socially reorganized, but with neither presi- 
 dent nor Jefferson's Manual, in Gregory's store. There Cap- 
 tain Mayferrie slaked his thirst by often-repeated exercise of 
 his constitutional liberties, and regaled the company with 
 their favorite song, in the theme and burden of which he re- 
 peatedly asserted ; 
 
 " A brick from the sky fell on my hat. 
 It sticks in it yet ; 
 It sticks in it yet." 
 
 This lyric was received by all present with far greater favor 
 even than that which greeted the eloquent addresses of the 
 afternoon. It was sung with spirit, it was encored with en- 
 thusiasm, and 'when time after time it was repeated, the 
 chorus was swelled with a power which would doubtless have 
 rejoiced the heart of every judicious friend of temperance 
 Most unfortunate it is, indeed, that the words and the melody 
 have not been preserved. 
 
 With this poetic embodiment of his idea of the inspiration 
 of true freedom, the Captain commenced and finished the
 
 392 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 evening, and was ultimately carried home by Calick, who 
 came in search of him at a late hour. Upon a hand-cart the 
 Captain was transported homeward, and was there presented 
 to his daughter in the full possession and enjoyment of his 
 Constitutional Liberties.
 
 XXIX. 
 
 SEPTEMBER, 1854 
 
 MR. SOLOMON 
 POPPENHAUSEN 
 was the success- 
 or to Mrs. Run- 
 die iu the oc- 
 cupancy of the 
 Grand- street 
 store. 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt, left by Mrs. Rundle in charge of her interest 
 in the lease of premises lately occupied by her, of which 
 lease three years or so were as yet unexpired, proceeded to 
 inform a rather indifferent public, by the medium of a semi- 
 weekly advertisement in the newspapers, and a handbill 
 posted upon the store-shutters, that this store was to let, rent 
 sixteen dollars a month, possession given immediately, apply 
 to B. Franklin Edgecutt, No. 28 Nassau-street, 
 
 An indifferent public paid but little attention to the matter. 
 But Mr. Solomon Poppenhauson, being obliged to leave the 
 17*
 
 394 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 stand which he had occupied for many years, for the reason 
 that the buildings thereabout were soon to be torn down to 
 make way for. new and splendid edifices intended to be erect- 
 ed by the March of Improvement, noticing the hand-bill, did 
 apply to B. Franklin Edgecutt, No. 28 Nassau-street. And as 
 he was a very respectable-looking man, and as he gave the 
 best of references, namely by consenting to pay his rent in 
 advance, Mr. Edgecutt authorized him to take possession im- 
 mediately, which he accordingly did. 
 
 Mr. Solomon Poppenhausen was a jeweler. A jeweler by 
 profession rather than by trade. A jeweler in virtue of his 
 sign rather than by reason that he transacted the business of 
 a jeweler to any great extent. After he had moved into his 
 new establishment, and had made the best possible arrange- 
 ment of his wares, he took an apprentice to give dignity to 
 the concern, subscribed to two of the daily papers, and occu- 
 pied his leisure moments with keeping himself informed re- 
 specting the present course and current history of the world. 
 This quiet mode of life was occasionally varied by the recrea- 
 tion which he found in burnishing up his watches and silver- 
 ware, and in giving the time to chance customers. 
 
 Mr. Poppenhausen's clocks were of the oldest fashion ; 
 clocks that took time easy and were never in a hurry. There 
 were quite a number of them ; and the first lesson in the art 
 of watch-making which Thomas the apprentice received was, 
 how to wind up clocks. For many weeks the only employ- 
 ment of the apprentice was to keep these time-pieces in mo- 
 tion ; and the shop being very silent in other respects, the 
 clocks kept up continually a most animated conversation in 
 monosyllables.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 395 
 
 At the end of the shop -was the old Regulator, a dusty, old 
 time-piece, with a most troublesome convenience of a variable 
 almanac for all time, upon its dial ; and with loud footsteps 
 it took long strides into futurity. On the counter stood the 
 little model musical mantle-clock, which kept up with the 
 Regulator as a little child walks with his father, by dint of 
 taking many short steps to the long ones of the other. And 
 there were twenty, and more than twenty others. 
 
 All along the shelves behind the counter, within glass 
 doors, and in the window, stood the silver-ware. Famous 
 silver- ware in Grand-street it became ; for multitudes of self- 
 denying persons, whose appetites for plate seemed confined to 
 their eyes, stopped at the window as they passed, and pointed 
 out their fancies to each other, and choosing what they would 
 have, went away quite contented, and doubtless fully as 
 happy in looking at it from withottt, as could Mr. Solomon 
 Poppenhausen have been in looking at it from within as it lay 
 there undisturbed. And many a thinly-dressed lady, coming 
 in with a careful air of casual inquisitiveness, wanted to look 
 at spoons, and would like to ascertain the price of silver cas- 
 tors, and having observed with approval that the spoons were 
 very heavy, and the castors very rich, and having inquired 
 doubtingly if they were warranted as the first quality of silver, 
 and scanned them narrowly in search cf blemishes, and 
 weighed them critically in hand, went away again saying 
 that she thought she should come in and purchase; yet 
 doubtless had, if she only knew it, quite as much pleasure in 
 not being able to buy, as Mr. Solomon Poppenhausen had in 
 not being able to sell. 
 
 But it was rare old plate he had. Solid old silver-ware.
 
 396 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 There was no sham about that The spoons were not Britan- 
 nia in disguise, nor the gold watches German silver under 
 false colors ; you might know that when you saw how fear- 
 lessly he rubbed and polished them twice a week. His wares 
 were as honest and genuine as himself; and though his store 
 was but a little one, it contained a greater quantity of real 
 silver than some more brilliant establishments in Broadway. 
 
 Mr. Poppenhausen was as old-fashioned as his clocks, and 
 as regular, too, in his daily course of life. When the old 
 Regulator struck twelve, Mr. Poppenhausen laid down his 
 paper, took up his hat, and went down street to dinner. Just 
 as it was catching its breath, (as old clocks do,) preparatory to 
 striking one, he came in again, lajd down his hat, and took 
 up his paper. In the mean time, Thomas took care of the 
 customers, having been directed thereto by his master, accord- 
 ing to a prescribed formula daily repeated. 
 
 The customers were not many, and Thomas in this branch 
 of his duty had not very much to do. 
 
 Mr. Hococks, now out of place by reason of indiscretions 
 which unfitted him for business, and wandering about the 
 town ready to turn his hand to almost any honest means of 
 livelihood, happened to pass by Mr. Poppenhausen's store. 
 Whether his attention was won by the euphonious name 
 blazoned on a swinging sign over the door, or caught by the 
 ticking which pervaded the shop and echoed out into the 
 street, or attracted by the Regulator, the expression of whose 
 honest face was so congenial to his own, or whether he merely 
 intended to spend a few minutes in recalling old associations, 
 and refreshing his memory in respect to the personal appear- 
 ance of gold and silver whether any of these causes, or all
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 397 
 
 combined, were his controlling motive in stopping at the win- 
 dow for some time, or whether he acted without a motive, as 
 some philosophers say man habitually does, is of no import- 
 ance in this connection, compared with the fact that he did 
 stop at the window, and that for some time. 
 
 It was a warm September afternoon. Mr. Hococks had 
 been in the sun a great part of the day. His face, and par- 
 ticularly his nose, was heated and red. The cooling quality 
 of window-glass is well known. Mr. Hococks applied his 
 olfactory to the window-pane to such an extent, that while 
 very much at his leisure, he inspected the contents of the 
 store and mentally appraised the various articles, that prom- 
 inent feature was so flattened and whitened against the glass, 
 that the identity of his visage was, for the moment, quite de- 
 stroyed, and it would have been quite impossible that Mr. 
 Poppenhausen should ever have recognized him under other 
 circumstances as the same man. Mr. Poppenhausen who had 
 been almost asleep over a leader in the newspaper he always 
 read the leaders the last was aroused to a sense of uneasi- 
 ness at this apparition ; for to say nothing of being made the 
 subject of such general inspection by two round rolling eyes, 
 he felt a vague certainty that the elasticity of human fiber 
 must, in the end, overcome the brittleness of glass, and he 
 was dreading every moment to see the nose come through. 
 When Mr. Poppenhausen, spurred on by this fear, arose and 
 moved toward the window, the apparition desisted from press- 
 ing the point further, and suddenly turning around, disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Mr. Poppenhausen advancing to the door-step, watched the 
 recreating figure of Mr. Hococks, until it disappeared around
 
 398 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 the corner of Center-street. He then went back to his seat 
 and went to sleep again. 
 
 " Hococks," said that gentleman to himself, as he pursued 
 a devious course down Center-street, " Hococks, my friend, 
 those things is yours. If you only knew it, those things 
 is yours. All you Ve got to do is to get 'em. But to 
 get 'em you want some help. And I know the fellow as '11 
 help you. 'Cause those things is yours, Hococks. All you Ve 
 got to do is to get 'em. That 's all." 
 
 " Well, Thomas," said Mr. Poppenhausen, a few days later, 
 laying down his newspaper and taking up his hat, as the clock 
 struck twelve, " I 'm going to dinner, Thomas." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And I shall be back in about an hour, Thomas." 
 
 "Very well, sir." 
 
 "And if any one calls to see me, I am at Duckling's, 
 Thomas." 
 
 " I will tell them, sir." 
 
 This formula having been repeated correctly, Mr. Poppen- 
 hausen covered his shiny bald head with a shiny black 
 beaver, and went out. As he passed down the street he 
 noticed a carriage standing by the sidewalk, within the dis- 
 tance of a block or so from his store. But carriages were by 
 no means rare in Grand-street, and he paid no attention to it. 
 If he had but known it, the occupants of the carriage noticed 
 him. And long before Mr. Solomon Poppenhausen reached 
 Duckling's, the carriage drove up to the door of his store. 
 
 "What a pity that the customers it brought did not know 
 that Mr. Poppenhausen always went to dinner at this hour.
 
 CONE OUT CORNERS. 399 
 
 Two gentlemen, occupants of the carriage, without waiting 
 for the driver to dismount, opened the carriage door them- 
 selves, sprang out upon the pavement, and entered the store 
 together. One of the gentlemen was a sprucely-dressed young 
 man of twenty-five, or thereabouts, but dressed so as to look 
 younger. The other was older, more shabby and less pre- 
 possessing in his personal appearance. 
 
 " Good morning," said the first gentleman, nodding famil- 
 iarly to Thomas, " Poppenhausen in T' 
 
 " No, sir ! Mr. Poppenhausen, sir, is out, sir. He is gone to 
 dinner, sir." 
 
 " There you are, you see," said the gentleman, addressing 
 his companion. " What are you going to do about it ? The 
 train leaves at half-past one." 
 
 " What 's the odds T growled the other. " You can sell us 
 some goods, can't you, my lad ?" 
 
 Thomas, highly pleased with his new responsibility, said 
 that he certainly could, and proceeded with more dexterity 
 than could have been expected from one of his limited ex- 
 perience as a salesman, to lay out for the inspection of his 
 customers the handsomest and the most costly articles 
 the store contained. Very particular his customers were too, 
 in examining every thing to make sure that it was solid silver. 
 For the plated ware they seemed to entertain a great contempt. 
 
 At length having made the boy lay out for him a large 
 stock of the best plate and jewelry in the establishment, the 
 younger of the two gentlemen, Avho appeared to be the real 
 customer, and to have an adviser rather than a partner in his 
 companion, was suddenly reminded that he must be quick, or 
 he should lose the train.
 
 400 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 " I 'in from Shawtucks," he explained, " Shawtucks, Ohio, 
 and I must start for home this afternoon. I 'in in the business 
 myself, have been a long time ; and I must say I never saw 
 any plate any where equal to yours. If your prices don't cut 
 too deep, I shall patronize you altogether. When will your 
 boss be back ?" 
 
 " At one, sir." 
 
 " That won't do. I should lose the train to wait for him. 
 Where does he dine ?" 
 
 " At Duckling's," replied Thomas. 
 
 " Whereabouts is that ?" inquired the customer. 
 
 " It 's pretty near the Park," said Thomas. 
 
 " All right," said the gentlemen. " You can run right 
 down with me now. If we hurry we '11 catch him before he 
 goes. Or at least we shall meet him on the way back." 
 
 Thomas demurred to this proposal, on the ground that he 
 could not leave the store, but his demurrer was overruled by 
 the representation that it would not do to lose so valuable a 
 customer, and by the further offer on the part of the valuable 
 customer's friend to remain in the store till Mr. Poppenhausen 
 should return. Thomas at length, after some hesitation, con- 
 sented to the plan, and departed with the valuable customer 
 to find Mr. Poppenhausen, while the valuable customer's 
 friend assumed an honest appearance by hiding his face be- 
 hind a newspaper. 
 
 As the valuable customer and his companion Thomas, 
 passed down the Bowery, the valuable customer seized the 
 opportunity afforded him by a few moment's intercourse with 
 a youthful mind, to do what good lay in his power by lending 
 his sanction to impressive sentiments of morality and honesty.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 401 
 
 " Young man," said he, in a tone of great moral sublimity, 
 mingled with much humane condescension, " you are enter- 
 ing upoa a business in which wealth lies scattered around 
 you in the utmost profusion. Honesty is the most valuable 
 virtue to a business man like yourself. Somebody says that 
 ' Honesty is the best policy.' It is the only policy. Real, 
 deep, cute honesty, my young friend, is the only kind of 
 policy. And whatever you do, I warn you, my friend," he 
 continued in a voice thick with emotion, or more probably 
 with a quid of tobacco, "never to be found out in any tLing 
 on the sly. If you once get caught at any thing crooked, 
 you 're a goner. You can't straighten yourself out after- 
 wards. So, my boy, whatever you do, never you be found 
 out in any thing on the sly. 
 
 " Ah, here 's the telegraph office, is it ?" said the valuable 
 customer, interrupting himself, and reading from a sign. 
 "Hold on a minute. I've a message to send. You wait 
 here, so if your boss comes along, we may n't miss him." 
 
 So saying, he hurried up the steps, leaving his youthful 
 companion at the door, engaged in calculating how rich 
 such a very honest man must be by this time. 
 
 Thomas waited below, carefully watching both sides of the 
 street for Mr. Poppenhausen. Getting tired at last of this 
 occupation, and the valuable customer not returning, Thomas 
 went up into the telegraph office to seek for him. He was 
 not there. 
 
 Thence, now thoroughly frightened, he hurried back to the 
 store. As he turned up into Grand-street at one corner, Mr. 
 Poppenhausen came round the other. The valuable custom- 
 er's carriage was gone, and the proprietor and his apprentice
 
 402 COKE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 entered the store together, to find it rifled ; the most valuable 
 of all the genuine articles taken away, and the rest scattered 
 over the floor and counters in every direction. 
 
 It was not without great difficulty that Thomas succeeded 
 in explaining the circumstances of the case to Mr. Poppenhau- 
 sen. That gentleman was not what you would call a quick 
 man in his powers of comprehension, whatever he may have 
 been in his temper ; and the account w,hich Thomas gave of 
 the transaction was by no means clear or coherent. At length, 
 however, when Mr. Poppenhausen fully understood that the 
 best part of his stock had been carried off, and had not been 
 paid for, nor was likely to be, he sat down among the ruins 
 of his establishment, and groaned aloud. He seemed not to 
 have any thought or expectation of doing any thing to re- 
 cover the stolen property, or the faintest idea that any thing 
 could be done for that purpose. 
 
 " And that 's the way it was, sir," said Thomas, ending for 
 the fourth time his narrative, " and I am sure he looked very 
 much like a gentleman, and I thought it was all right, and he 
 said he would stay and keep the store, and I 'm sure I could n't 
 tell." 
 
 Mr. Poppenhausen groaned, but returned no other answer. 
 
 " But I might go after Mr. Edgecutt," continued Thomas, 
 " and maybe he could tell us what to do." 
 
 Another groan from Mr. Poppenhausen. 
 
 " And I '11 go right down now, sir," continued Thomas, "and 
 bring him up. Shall I, sir ?" 
 
 Construing a renewed groan from Mr. Poppenhausen into 
 an affirmative, Thomas started off, at a quick pace, for Mr. 
 Elfjecutt's office. 

 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 403 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt fortunately was in. It was not without some 
 difficulty that he succeeded in eliciting from Thomas all the 
 circumstances of the case, without undue coloring, for under 
 the impression that he might be held to account for the rob- 
 bery, it was natural for him to view the incidents of the morn- 
 ing in a light not at all calculated to afford the best clew to a 
 discovery of the offenders. 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt knew that it would go a great way toward 
 securing the cooperation of Thomas in his plans if in discuss- 
 ing them he could lead him to suggest some advantage, and 
 give him credit for the idea. Therefore he was very glad to 
 have the apprentice suggest -that they should send some one 
 in search of the carriage in which the valuable customer and 
 his friend had come. Giving him all due praise for the sug- 
 gestion, Mr. Edgecutt dispatched Thomas himself on this er- 
 rand, agreeing to meet him at Mr. Poppenhausen's in three 
 quarters of an hour. 
 
 Meantime, Mr. Edgecutt, thinking that the best way to 
 catch a rogue was to follow him as far as he could be traced, 
 while his track was yet fresh, bent his steps to the telegraph 
 office ; intending after making a call there, to seek an inter- 
 view with the chief of police. 
 
 It was a branch office, recently opened, and as yet by no 
 means extremely busy. There was a short counter at one 
 side of* the room, near one end of which stood a little square 
 desk, occupied by a small clerk with a large stiff collar and 
 very upright hair. In the middle of the counter a brass wire 
 several inches high stood upright, the lower end fastened into 
 the counter, and the upper end pointed. A pile of slips of 
 blank paper about the size of bank-bills were stuck upon this
 
 404 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 wire, so that any one wishing to send a communication could 
 write it upon the uppermost of these papers, and then pull it 
 off and hand it to the clerk, to be manufactured into electric- 
 ity and sent off by the operator. A pencil tied by a long 
 string to a brass nail in the counter lay close by, to write 
 with. 
 
 " Not much doing to-day, is there ?" said Mr. Edgecutt, care- 
 lessly taking up the pencil attached to the desk. 
 ' " No," said the clerk, " only one message this two hours.'' 
 
 As he said this, Mr. Edgecutt's eye fell upon the pile of 
 slips of paper before him. Regarding it more closely than 
 before, he observed indentations in the upper slip, as if the 
 last person who had written a dispatch had borne upon the 
 pencil with a heavy hand, and left the traces of his writing 
 impressed upon the paper beneath the one he had used. 
 
 " What was that ?" asked Mr. Edgecutt, carelessly. 
 
 The clerk made no audible reply. But he shook his head 
 as far as he could between two very stiff' angles of collar, and 
 pointed with the tip of his pen to a line in the card of printed 
 rules which hung upon the front of his desk. It read as 
 follows : 
 
 "All communications will be regarded as strictly CON- 
 FIDENTIAL." 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt took the opportunity of the clerk's attention 
 being diverted, to slip the upper three or four papers off the 
 file. 
 
 " Nothing worth knowing, I guess," said he, turning away. 
 
 " Only a death, I believe," said the clerk. 
 
 Then he suddenly leaned over his desk, as far as his dan- 
 gerous collar would allow, and diving his great pen into a
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 405 
 
 little glass sea of ink before him, made a vigorous show of 
 being very busy with his writing, as much as to say, " I 
 should be very happy to talk to you, sir, and tell you all 
 about it, but the arduous nature of my occupation, sir, pre- 
 vents me from spending any more time with you, sir." 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt, with difficulty concealing his satisfaction, bid 
 the clerk good afternoon, to which salutation he received no 
 response, and hurried out, his precious paper safe in his hands. 
 As soon as he got fairly into the street, he stopped against a 
 tree-box, and unrolled the paper to decipher it, if possible. 
 It was with some difficulty that he made it out, but at length 
 he succeeded. It read as follows : 
 
 "To P. TUCKER, 
 
 " GURGEX'S HOTEL, 
 
 " ALBANY. 
 
 " Solomon died at half-past twelve this afternoon, quietly 
 and peacefully. Hococks and I will come on with the re- 
 mains. Meet us at the boat to-morrow morning. 
 
 "R. STRETCH." 
 
 This being deciphered, Mr. Edgecutt indulged himself in a 
 hearty slap on the knee, rolled up his slip of paper again, and 
 hastened to Mr. Poppenhausen's store. Here he found the 
 proprietor putting away the remnants of his stock, and count- 
 ing it over and over again in every possible combination of 
 numbers, to make it as large as he could. Here, too, he found 
 Thomas just returned from an unsuccessful attempt to find the 
 carriage of the valuable customer and his friend. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Edgecutt," said Mr. Poppenhausen, turning
 
 406 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 round upon him a face of the utmost mournfulness, " this is a 
 pretty kettle of fish, is n't it. They have n't left me a piece 
 of real silver, hardly. Look at it. Just look at it" The poor 
 man pointed to his empty shelves vrith a face of sorrow so com- 
 ical, that even sympathy could hardly maintain as solemn a 
 countenance as the nature of the case seemed to require. 
 Still breathing hard, for he had run a good part of the way to 
 the store, Mr. Edgecutt handed Mr. Poppenhausen the paper. 
 
 Mr. Poppenhausen looked from it to Mr. Edgecutt, and 
 from Mr. Edgecutt to it, with a countenance as blank as the 
 paper itself. 
 
 " "Well," said Mr. Edgecutt, at length recovering his breath, 
 " I think we Ve caught the scamps." 
 
 " Eh ? What ? Caught them. Hurrah !" cried Mr. Pop- 
 penhausen, in the greatest state of excitement, slapping his 
 hat upon his head. " Come along. Where are they ? 
 Hurrah !" 
 
 " Hold on ! Hold on !" said Mr. EJgecutt " Not quite so 
 fast They are not any where yet Sit down." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Edgecutt cleared a place for himself upon 
 the counter. Mr. Poppenhausen sat down or rather sat up 
 on a high stool near by. 
 
 " They are not caught yet," said Mr. Edgecutt, " but we can 
 catch them, if we are cautious. But we Ve a precious set of 
 rascals to deal with." 
 
 To this proposition Mr. Poppenhausen assented, by nodding 
 very violently. 
 
 " The man that was here, the one that carried off the silver, 
 is a man by the name of Hococks. The other one who went 
 with John is a fellow named Stretch, whom I knew something 

 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 407 
 
 about before. As soon as lie and John had gone, Hococks 
 cleared out the silver into his carriage and went too, " 
 
 A groan from Mr. Poppenhausen testified to the accuracy 
 of Mr. Edgecutt's conjecture. 
 
 " straight to the boat the Albany boat. Stretch met 
 him there." 
 
 Mr. Poppenhausen placed his elbows on his knees, and 
 holding his head carefully ia his hands, stared upon Mr. Edge- 
 cutt out of gradually widening eyes. 
 
 " The two have gone to Albany in the afternoon boat," con- 
 tinued Mr. Edgecutt, " with the silver." 
 
 Another groan from Mr. Poppenhausen. 
 
 " In Albany they are to be met by another scamp Tucker 
 they call him. I think we must have some one there along 
 with Mr. Tucker. Eh ? "VVe must telegraph." 
 
 As the possibility of thus recovering the lost treasure grad- 
 ually broke over Mr. Poppenhausen's mind, the expression of 
 his face changed from one of deep dissatisfaction to one of in- 
 tense delight. He seized one of Mr. Edgecutt's hands in both 
 of his own, and actually danced up and down in his efforts to 
 shake it sufficiently to indicate the satisfaction he felt. 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt then proceeded to explain to Mr. Poppenhau- 
 sen the meaning of the little slip of blank paper which he still 
 held in his hand, and how he came to know so much about 
 the valuable customer and his friend. And he advised that a 
 telegraphic message should forthwith be sent to the police au- 
 thorities in Albany, requesting them to send an officer in com- 
 pany with Mr. Tucker to the boat in the morning, with a 
 view to provide a proper escort for the remains. This advice, 
 with the additional suggestion that the message be sent by
 
 408 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 the other telegraph line, in order to keep the affair as quiet as 
 possible, brought on another paroxysm of grateful admiration 
 on the part of Mr. Poppenhausen. 
 
 Mr. EJgecutt sent the dispatch accordingly, and the next 
 Tuesday morning he had the pleasure of receiving a note from 
 the police authorities at the Tombs, informing him that the 
 remains had been returned, and that the pall-bearers, who 
 took so prominent a part at the funeral, were safely housed. 
 la accordance with the request of this note, he went up to the 
 Tombs, carrying Mr. Poppenhausen and Thomas with Lim, 
 for the purpose of identifying the prisoners. As they came 
 into the Police Court, the Justice was just finishing his morn- 
 ing's work, and disposing of the last half dozen unfortunates 
 who had been brought there the night before. Mr. Edgecutt 
 and his companions stood waiting for Messrs. Hococks and 
 Stretch to be brought forward. 
 
 As Mr. Edgecutt, a little apart from the others, was talking to 
 a policeman, some one slapped him on the shoulder, and spoke. 
 
 " Halloo ! how are you, old fellow ? I 'm glad to see you f ' 
 
 It was Mr. Stretch. 
 
 " How do you do ? You 're just the man I wanted to see," 
 continued he, proffering his hand to Mr. Edgecult. 
 
 Mr. Edgecutt put his hands in his pockets and bowed, 
 coldly. 
 
 " You 're just the man I wanted to see," continued Mr. 
 Stretch, in no wise abashed by his reception, " to get me out 
 of a little scrape I have got into here. Those policemen ! 
 hang me if they know a gentleman when they see him. Ycu 
 know I was going up to Albany to the Assembly there I 
 don't know as you knBw I was elected to the Assembly ?"
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 409 
 
 " No," said Mr. Edgecutt. Mr. Edgecutt certainly did not 
 know it. It is doubtful whether any body else did. 
 
 " Yes ! oh, yes. I run in last fall. By a first rate majority 
 too, I tell you. Had over a thousand. Don't say any thing 
 about it here, you know," said he, nudging Mr. Edgecutt with 
 his elbow, " the Judge is of the other politics, and hates me 
 for that reason. He don't know me, you know except er 
 by reputation. But positively I had to change my name on 
 that account entirely on that account and call myself 
 Robinson. Just think of it, Kobinson ! That's a pretty 
 position for a man of my standing, is n't it ?" 
 
 "Very," said Mr. Edgecutt. 
 
 " Why, it's horrible, you know, horrible. But as I was say- 
 ing, I no sooner got on the wharf than I was arrested as 
 a thief, on I don't know what false charge, and brought down 
 here. You know we Ve got such a rotten police system. 
 Oh, its wretched, wretched ; I 'in going to move an inquiry 
 into it, the first thing I do when I get back to the Legislature. 
 It 's a disgrace to our State ; a positive disgrace, you know." 
 
 " I would," said Mr. Edgecutt. 
 
 "Oh, I certainly shall," said Mr. Stretch. "You may 
 depend on my taking hold of it the first thing. But I told 
 the man it was a mistake. I put it to him this way. I said 
 to him, ' Now my friend, I put it to you, as a reasonable being, 
 is it likely, is it possible, that I, a member of the Assembly, a 
 man whom his country delights to honor, you know, should 
 be guilty of an offense against the laws.' And he positively 
 laughed at me ; the impudent fellow." 
 
 " Yes ?" said Mr. Edgecutt, inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes," repeated Mr. Stretch, " laughed in my face. Why 
 18
 
 410 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 I told him and I told them here too, you l;;:ow I could 
 refer 'em to a dozen men ; name 'em on the spot. ' Why,' says 
 I, ' there 's my friend Edgecutt, for instance. You know Edge- 
 cutt. You must know Edgecutt. You can't help knowing him. 
 Why he's the most promising member of our profession. 
 He 'd go bail for me to any amount.' Why you know, what 's 
 the profession good for, if it was n't for these little profes- 
 sional courtesies eh ?" 
 
 " And you could get eleven others to go bail P said Mr. 
 Edgecutt, inquiringly. 
 
 " Oh, surely," said Mr. Stretch, " no difficulty about that, 
 you know. I 'm in a little of a snarl now.' But I shall get 
 it all straightened out very soon. And if there 's any thing 
 I can do for you in the Assembly you know, why just say 
 the word. Any little bill you know, eh ? or any thing of 
 that sort, why just say so. Hang me, but I always took a lik- 
 ing to you, you know. Any little service of that sort, why " 
 
 "Thank you," said Mr. Edgecutt. "I think I shall not 
 have to trouble you." 
 
 " Oh, bless me ! don't speak of the trouble. "What 's the 
 good of being in the Assembly, you know, except to have a 
 chance to help one's friends now and then eh ?" 
 
 " And as to going bail," continued Mr. Edgecutt. 
 
 "Well!" 
 
 " You had better send for the other eleven. I am here on 
 different business," and he turned away from Mr. Stretch, and 
 resumed his conversation with the policeman. 
 
 Whether Mr. Edgecutt was so far forgetful of professional 
 proprieties as to inform the unsuspecting justice of the real 
 name of Mr. Stretch, or whether the justice had known him
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 411 
 
 before by sight as well as by reputation, certain it is that by 
 some mysterious means he recognized him, and called him by- 
 name ; and notwithstanding Mr. Stretch was a member of the 
 Assembly, notwithstanding the inherent improbability of hia 
 having committed a breach of the laws, notwithstanding 
 that he offered the names of eleven gentlemen of the highest 
 degree of respectability, including the governor of the State, 
 and three members of the Legislature, who would pledge them- 
 selves to his good moral character and upright behavior, the 
 magistrate allowed party feelings and political enmities so far 
 to override justice, that he totally disregarded Mr. Stretch's 
 remonstrances and assurances that it was all a mistake, and 
 proceeded to hold him to bail. No bail being forthcoming, 
 in consequence probably of the fact that the eleven friends 
 of Mr. Stretch all resided at too great a distance to allow of 
 their being immediately advised of the emergency in his af- 
 fairs, Mr. Stretch was, in company with Mr. Hococks, politely 
 conducted to apartments in the interior of the building, where 
 he had the opportunity of becoming a client to a professional 
 brother moving in that peculiar circle of which he himself 
 had previously been a member. 
 
 Had the magistrate succeeded in his nefarious and unjust 
 designs, the history of Mr. Stretch would have been of no 
 further interest. But Mr. Stretch having been brought to 
 trial a few months later on an indictment for robbing the store 
 of Mr. Solomon Poppenhowsen, and it appearing by the pro- 
 duction in court of the sign itself, and other incontrovertible 
 evidence that the store which he had robbed was the store of 
 Mr. Solomon Poppenhawsen, Mr. Stretch was, by direction of 
 the learned judge, acquitted.
 
 412 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Thereafter, having become thus experimentally acquainted 
 with the danger to which innocence is exposed in consequence 
 of the rottenness of the police system, he philanthropically re- 
 solved to return to. the exercise of his profession, and to de- 
 vote himself to the defense of those individuals who are made 
 the victims of a pretense of law at the Halls of Justice, better 
 known in New York as the Eg}-ptian Tombs. And to this 
 day he may be found in that edifice, or in his unpretending 
 office near by, ready to devote himself, for a small considera- 
 tion, to the assistance of any gentleman in difficulties, who 
 may require his aid. ' 
 
 Mr. Hococks was not so fortunate. The innocence of Mr. 
 Stretch having been declared, and his honor and name hav- 
 ing been so singularly vindicated, it was to have been ex- 
 pected that the District Attorney would at once have declared 
 his conviction that Mr. Hococks had been held upon a false 
 accusation, and would have promptly entered a nolle prosegui. 
 Instead, however, of pursuing this manly and upright course, 
 that officer continued further his persecutions of Mr. Hococks, 
 who was shortly afterward tried before the same learned 
 judge, and convicted upon an indictment which, by a purely 
 technical accuracy, it having been copied by another clerk, 
 contained Mr. Poppenhausen's name correctly. The unfortu- 
 nate man was subsequently sent, at the expense of the State, 
 to an institution more generally than favorably known in 
 the community, which is located some miles up the Hudson 
 River. There, in a neat and tasty uniform he still labors, in 
 his humble "way, for his country's good.
 
 XXX. 
 
 NOVEMBER, 1854. 
 
 IT was now 
 full two years 
 since Paul had 
 first commenc- 
 ed his medical 
 studies in New 
 York. But 
 
 during that time he had gone over a greater length of road 
 than most students travel in their whole course of study. 
 Such a task was not to be accomplished by lagging. Paul 
 knew this, and he had not lagged. 
 
 He had not been long at the medical school before his in- 
 dustry and fondness for study was noticed and appreciated by 
 his instructors. He was particularly fond of anatomy, and 
 entered into it with a zeal that would have quite horrified his 
 sister Susie, had she known that he was engaged in such an 
 unnatural, horrible business. 
 
 In deference to this zeal Paul was allowed, by special per- 
 mission, to prosecute his favorite researches by night. Three
 
 414 COKE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 times a week be was accustomed to remain in the room de- 
 voted to anatomical study, allowing the scrupulous janitor to 
 lock him in as he always persisted in doing ; and there, to a 
 late hour of the night he pursued his work. This he enjoyed. 
 The stillness, the security from interruption, the very loneli- 
 ness, were luxuries to him ; and he had seen altogether too 
 much of Death now, to be afraid of him at night. 
 
 One night about nine o'clock, Paul Bundle, stepping cheeri- 
 ly down the steps of the edifice known indifferently among 
 different classes of persons as Mr. Minium's house, or Pro- 
 fessor Tappum's Institution, or the office of the Copper Man, 
 or Mrs. Minium's store, or Bundle's rooms, passed up through 
 the Bowery, and having taken a modest little meal con- 
 sisting of two stews of oysters and the beginning of a cigar 
 at a refreshment saloon upon his way, reached at length 
 the Medical School, and entered the room of mystery and 
 death the dissecting room. 
 
 It was a long unbroken hall. 
 
 At one end of it was a small grate in which a little fire 
 burned ; not enough to warm the room, the uses of which 
 required a cool atmosphere. Against the wall on one side of 
 the grate, stood an old-fashioned sofa; on the other was 
 built a long wash-stand, holding six or eight tin basins, each 
 under its own faucet. At the opposite end of the hall, a great 
 case of shelves, with glass doors, lined the wall, filled with 
 curiosities of medical science, anatomical preparations, accu- 
 mulated by the labors of that room. 
 
 As Paul walked up the room, from the grate to the cabinet, 
 the wall, on his left was broken by many windows, on the 
 right was ornamented with pictures such as were appropriate
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 415 
 
 to the place. Here was portrayed, in all its parts, the human 
 frame ; from the skeleton, or man in outline, to the frame 
 strung with muscles, nerves, blood-vessels the shaded por- 
 trait. And the professors of past years had here hung draw- 
 ings of rare deformities which their skill had divorced from 
 hideous marriage with the human system. 
 
 Was this all ? Not quite. Along the floor, at equal inter- 
 vals, were arranged two rows of narrow, solid, oak-plank 
 tables. Upon these were pursued the gloomy studies of the 
 place. This hall, so cheerless and repulsive in itself, was daily 
 thronged with light-hearted, active students, full of zeal, hope 
 and love, for the studies which seem so fearful to the multi- 
 tude without. Here on these oaken tables lay their lessons 
 their text-books, each volume destroyed in its first perusal. 
 
 " How many student generations," thought Paul, " have 
 toiled and still toil here, seeking to find in Death himself the 
 secret of his cause and cure. Yet is that secret undiscov- 
 ered still. Extensive knowledge, brilliant talents, unremitting 
 zeal, have taken up the task in youth, and laid it down in age. 
 Yet the great problem, Death, remains unsolved." 
 
 Such thoughts as these passed through Paul's mind as he 
 made his preparations for the labors of the night. He wrap- 
 ped around him a black cambric gown, one of a melancholy 
 row hanging upon the wall, worn by dissecting-students as a 
 protection to more valuable clothing, opened his case of in- 
 struments and laid them on the table appropriated to him, 
 turned over the leaves of his treatise till he found the descrip- 
 tion of a certain triangular, wing-shaped muscle known 
 among gentlemen who are too learned to call things by intel- 
 ligible names, as the pterygoideus externus which draws the
 
 416 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 lower jaw bone up when occasion calls, and which was that 
 night the allotted subject of his study ; lighted the gas-burner 
 above, his table, arranged the head of his subject conveniently, 
 and was prepared. 
 
 Still he hesitated. He was reluctant to begin his work 
 until he should be alone. For all this time Hugh, the janitor 
 of the school, a brisk little Irishman, was bustling about the 
 room, preparing to close it for the night. He was an accommo- 
 dating fellow, as Irishmen generally are ; but extremely pre- 
 cise and methodical, as Irishmen generally are not Dr. Cod- 
 berry, the demonstrator of anatomy, as the instructor in that 
 branch of medical science is usually called, was standing by the 
 grate warming a square foot or so of his back, and drawing 
 on with careful consideration for tender seams, a pair of black 
 kid gloves. He was talking with Rowley, one of Paul's fellow- 
 students. 
 
 What Rowley's first name was, we have never been able to 
 learn. Paul did not know, nor is it material. And it is pro- 
 bable that Rowley has to this day as little idea who "Run- 
 die" was. For Christian names are not recognized in med- 
 ical schools. 
 
 Paul waited for these to go before he should commence his 
 task in earnest. 
 
 As Hugh was giving the last touches to his work, and Dr. 
 Codberry had just got on his glove successfully, without hurt- 
 ing the feelings of the tender seams, a stealthy knock was 
 given at a low door in the other end of the room. Hugh 
 dropped the broom with which he had been drawing together 
 in little heaps the dust and litter of the day, and hastened to 
 the door. He unlocked it, opened it slightly, and looked out.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 417 
 
 Apparently satisfied that all was right, he opened it wider, and 
 a shaggy, black-haired head peered into the room to reconnoi- 
 ter. On this head rode a little jockey-cap, using the wearer's 
 ears by way of stirrups, and with a black strap falling down 
 upon his mouth by way of bridle. There was a moment's 
 conversation between Hugh and the new comer. Then the 
 door was thrown wide open, and two rough men entered, bear- 
 ing a burden, concealed in a coarse sack. The janitor fasten- 
 ed the door behind them. 
 
 They were the resurrection-men, with a new subject for the 
 dissecting-room. 
 
 They passed up the hall to an unoccupied table at the fur- 
 ther end, where they laid their burden down upon one of the 
 tables, and drew off the sack. 
 
 " There 's a beauty for you," said shaggy-head. " Fresh as 
 a spring chicken, too." 
 
 " She is a beauty," assented Dr. Codberry, putting his hand 
 to the cheek of the corpse. 
 
 " Typhus fever, clearly," suggested Rowley, instructively. 
 
 " Fever I should say, certainly," said Dr. Codberry. " I 
 don't know about the typhus." 
 
 Paul, who had approached the table, discerned in the insuf- 
 ficient light, a lovely girl, her face pale, and her lips nearly 
 colorless. Still they scarcely wore the pallid look of death. 
 Her black hair had been confined smoothly within a cap, but 
 now, disturbed by rough hands, strayed out over her face. 
 Her form, attenuated by disease and disguised by the shroud, 
 showed signs of youth and beauty yet. The slumber-like ap- 
 pearance of her repose, her yet lingering healthful look, the 
 genuine beauty of her face, charmed him. 
 18*
 
 418 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 One does not often see combined the beauty of sculpture 
 and that of life. 
 
 In the uncertain light Paul could not distinguish accurate- 
 ly the features of the form before him. But he had a vague 
 recollection that he had somewhere seen some such face as 
 that. How, where, when, he could not tell. And he quickly 
 dismissed the idea as absurd. 
 
 The resurrection-man untied the cap and took it off the un- 
 resisting head. Laying it upon the table he commenced to un- 
 fasten the shroud. 
 
 " Can't stop for that, honey," interposed the janitor. " It 's 
 to-morrow morning ye must come for that." 
 
 " Shroud 's mine," growled shaggy-head. 
 
 " Can't help it," said Hugh. " If ye want your things ye 
 must be afther 'em to-morrow, or else stay here with 'em the 
 night." 
 
 So saying he walked off to the door, followed by Dr. Cod- 
 berry and Rowley. The resurrectionist reluctantly dropped 
 his work, and tramped out with his companion. A moment 
 more, and the door closed, the key turned in the lock, and 
 Hugh's retreating footsteps left Paul in silence to pursue his 
 work. 
 
 Diligently and with close attention he labored for some 
 hours. The Sysiphus in the neighboring church-clock rolled 
 his burden up the hill of time to twelve, fell back to one, and 
 labored up again to two and three. At length somewhat 
 weary, Paul rose from the table, replenished the fire, and 
 wheeled the sofa round toward it. Throwing himself at full 
 length upon it, he yielded for a few moments to rest and 
 thought.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 419 
 
 Here as he lay with eyelids just a-jar, half dreaming, half 
 awake the beautiful face so near him, forgotten as he 
 worked, rose again to view. Where could it be that he had 
 seen a face like that before. Somewhere certainly. Memory 
 ran quickly through her mental picture-gallery, but found no 
 portrait of this face. Then it was but a fancied resemblance, 
 after all, thought Paul. So memory gave up the inquiry with- 
 out success. 
 
 Then imagination began. Who was she ? What her form- 
 er life and home ? These Paul pictured to himself as he 
 lay, half waking, half asleep. 
 
 She was plainly one (so thought he to himself) who had 
 passed her life in ease and wealth. He fancied her some 
 daughter of loving parents ; some cherished sister. Just as 
 her bloom of life was freshest, disease had seized upon her 
 frame and wasted her strength. Against its power there was 
 no striving. No skill could support her faintness, restore her 
 powers, or recall the fluttering, departing spirit. Imagination 
 thus replied to the questions of curiosity, though to little 
 purpose. 
 
 But when had he seen that face before ? Ever ? No ! It was 
 nonsense. It was out of the question. Or if he had ever seen 
 her before, she was nobody that he knew. That was cer- 
 tain. He did not know any rich people. And that she was 
 rich was plain enough. He never saw a finer shroud. Ex- 
 cept Mr. . 
 
 A long-drawn sigh aroused him. He was on his feet and 
 wide awake in a moment. In that hall, at that lonely hour 
 of night, death was familiar, but the thought of life, terrifying. 
 A glance around 'the room. An instantaneous collection
 
 420 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 of scattered senses. That head was lying upon its cheek. 
 That face was turned toward the light. 
 
 Frederica Chesslebury ! 
 
 An instant ! and he had somewhat darkened the gas-light, 
 and was by his patient's side. 
 
 " Where am I?" she murmured. 
 
 " Hush !" whispered Paul. " You must not talk." 
 
 He lifted the light form easily in his arms, and laid her 
 down upon the sofa. Her eyes closed again, but she breathed 
 lightly still. 
 
 So then, that strange charm was the light of life, still lin- 
 gering in the frame. Oh, Life ! more fearful than Death it- 
 self : Life dead : Death alive. 
 
 Yet, how could she, thus delivered up by death, be pre- 
 served to life ? Awaking to such scenes, opening timid eyes 
 to such sights, how fatal must be her excitement, her alarm ; 
 what hope was there for calmness, sleep, recovery ? There 
 was a plan which might prevent a knowledge of the truth till 
 time should bring returning strength. As Paul, in order to 
 save weak sight a sudden alarm, had dimmed the light, so 
 he would darken truth, to ward off from a feeble spirit, 
 a fearful shock. 
 
 He left his patient's side cautiously, took from the table 
 where she had been lying, the cap which had been thrown 
 down there, tied it as well as he could upon his own head, and 
 crowded his hair back beneath it as much as possible. He 
 returned, and began to spread over her a blanket which he 
 kept to use as his own covering in morning naps. She un- 
 closed her eyes. 
 
 "Where am I ?" she asked feebly.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 421 
 
 " In the hospital," whispered Paul. 
 " Hospital ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Paul, " you have been very sick. There was 
 only one doctor that could cure you, and he never goes away 
 from the hospital. Your mother stays here all day, and 
 I take care of you at night You Ve been very sick, and we 
 did n't think you 'd ever get well." 
 
 She closed her eyes again, and seemed to fall into a little 
 doze ; trusting to the story, as it seemed, more through weak- 
 ness to disbelieve it, than because it would bear any analysis. 
 Paul took the opportunity to walk back to the cabinet at the 
 distant end of the room, one shelf of which he knew was ap- 
 propriated to certain medicines, chiefly such as were likely to 
 be useful in the accidental wounds which students of anatomy 
 frequently receive. He knew that he should find some 
 brandy there, and hoped there might be wine. Groping 
 over the shelf, and bringing some half dozen vials to light, he 
 found both, as well as a crooked teaspoon, which he thought 
 would be seviceable in lieu of a straight one. Returning to 
 the sofa, he knelt down before his patient, and administered a 
 few teaspoonfuls of wine. 
 
 " What are those ?" she asked, faintly, indicating by a 
 movement of the eyes that she meant the anatomical tables 
 and their occupants. 
 
 " Those," said Paul, turning the sofa more directly in front 
 of the fire, so as to bring them behind her, " those are beds, 
 with the sick people in them." 
 
 The darkened gas-light conspired with him to deceive her 
 careless, feeble glance. Paul saw she was satisfied, and his 
 hope to keep the secret from her, rose. He continued to
 
 422 
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 kneel before her, giving her from time to time a little wine. 
 It was all he could do. 
 
 " Who are you ?" she gently inquired, after fifteen or twenty 
 minutes had thus passed. 
 
 " I 'm one of the sisters," was the whispered reply. 
 
 " Not my sister," said she, looking at her attendant more 
 intently. 
 
 " No, my dear, a Sister of Charity," said Paul, drawing his 
 black gown around his throat so as to give him the most 
 matronly air possible, " I nurse here." 
 
 If the dull ear fully caught his meaning, the weary heart 
 felt no distrust, and she questioned him no further. 
 
 At length, from dozing and waking alternately, Frederica 
 
 fnto a sound and quiet sleep. Paul sat by her, holding 
 wrist and watching her pulse. It seemed slowly to 
 strengthen. Oh, if that sleep could only last till daylight, the 
 waking might be to life. 
 
 At last, about five o'clock, Paul heard the janitor whistling 
 his way up stairs ; it was his first morning duty to release the 
 imprisoned student. Paul stood at the door to silence him 
 as soon as possible. The janitor unlocked and opened it. 
 
 " Hush," said Paul, " hush the young lady they brought 
 in last night is alive." 
 
 Hugh stared. 
 
 " Is it alive she is ?" he exclaimed, gazing at the sofa. " Oh 
 the thaif of the wor-rld, to sell a live corpse to a dissictin' 
 room P 
 
 " Hush !" said Paul, she 's asleep." 
 
 Hugh screwed up his mouth very tight and opened his 
 eyes very wide, and stood very still, waiting for instructions.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 423 
 
 These were soon given. They were, to go up to Dr. Cod- 
 berry's house, to bring him down to the college, and to be 
 quick about it, so as to get him there, if possible, before the 
 young lady woke up. 
 
 This was readily accomplished. In half an hour Dr. Cod- 
 berry was there. And not long afterward, the young lady, her 
 sleep now strengthened by an opiate, was gently carried home 
 in a comfortable litter ; one which was kept at hand to convey 
 patients from the clinique upon emergency, and which was 
 labeled in great red letters, " FROM THE MEDICAL COLLEGE," 
 to the end that those who passed it upon the sidewalks might 
 avoid jostling it. 
 
 Jason, rising earlier than was customary with most of the 
 inmates of the Chesslebury mansion, heard the door-bell ring 
 with a nervous jerk, and wondering who was there so early in 
 the morning, looked out of the window and saw Paul Rundle 
 standing" on the door-step, and two men coming up the street 
 bearing the litter gently between them. Wondering again 
 what brought Paul, and scarcely as yet noticing the litter, 
 Jason, forgetful of the proprieties of life, hastened down stairs, 
 himself, to let him in. 
 
 The story of his sister's safety was soon told. Mother was 
 awakened. Servants were aroused. Frederica's room, which 
 remained exactly as she had left it, was thrown open, and she 
 was carried in. Before Paul left the house, he had the sat- 
 isfaction of seeing her in full consciousness, weak still, but se- 
 cure from danger. 
 
 As Paul hastened to recitation, or as he termed it, to 
 " quiz," after breakfast, which, at Jason's earnest solicitation, 
 he consented to take at the Chesslebury mansion, he occupied
 
 424 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 himself with thinking of the scenes of the night previous. 
 And he took himself to task for the deception he had prac- 
 ticed. 
 
 " Bundle," said he to himself, " you 're a young man of 
 good moral principle, I think. I declare I didn't know 
 you could lie so in an emergency. I wondr what mother 
 would think of it. Let me see how many fibs did I tell 
 her? 
 
 " Why, first I told her she was in the hospital. Whopper 
 number one. 
 
 " Then I said that her mother came to take care of her all 
 day. Whopper number two. 
 
 " Then I said the tables were beds with sick people in them. 
 Number three. 
 
 " Then I told her that I was a Sister of Charity. That was 
 unmitigated. A Sister of Charity with a goatee ! Number 
 four was worse than all the rest. 
 
 " And then I wonder if I said any thing that was true, ex- 
 cept that she had been very sick. That was all right, I guess. 
 I don't believe though it could be any thing very wrong. 
 She couldn't have lived, poor girl, if I had told her the 
 truth ; I don't think." 
 
 Paul related the whole matter with great particularity to 
 Dr. Codberry. The doctor did not seem however to be at all 
 inclined to disapprove his conduct. He spoke of discretion, 
 ingenuity, skill, presence of mind, but said nothing whatever 
 about falsehood. Indeed he praised Paul more for his in- 
 genuity, as he called it, than for any thing else ; and his com- 
 mendations were, in this respect, supported by those of the 
 other professors. And through Dr. Codberry, the story grow-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 425 
 
 ing public, Paul went by the name of " Sister Bundle" for the 
 entire remainder of his medical course. 
 
 Meanwhile Paul visited daily the Chesslebury mansion. 
 Who was Miss Frederick's regular physician we do not know. 
 If it was he who made the most frequent, and the longest 
 visits, it was Paul Rundle. And we believe, and Miss 
 Frederica thought so too, that his visits did her the most 
 good. 
 
 They undoubtedly cost the least. 
 
 One pleasant sunny morning, after Frederica had grown now 
 much stronger and better, and really seemed hardly to need 
 professional visits once a day, Paul prescribed a short ride for 
 her. He thought it would do her good, he said. And 
 Freddie, like a good and obedient patient as she was, made 
 no complaints at this prescription, unpleasant though it must 
 have been. 
 
 Jason very much regretted that business engagements down 
 town made it impossible for him to go out to-day, but if 
 Paul could only spare an hour or two from his studies and 
 as he said it the slightest possible smile lurked in each corner 
 of his mouth. 
 
 " Paul would be very happy," he said. 
 
 And if it be possible to judge at all from the expression 
 of Paul's countenance when the ride which was not a very 
 short one was over, Paul was very happy. 
 
 "Whether the ride was beneficial to Frederica or not, is a 
 question upon which it is not so easy to express an opinion. 
 Her cheeks appeared improved in color on her return, it is 
 true ; and this would indicate that the ride had had a favora- 
 ble effect, although it might have been only the temporary re-
 
 426 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 suit of going out into the open air. But, upon the other 
 Land, it was noticed that, in stepping into the house from the 
 chaise, she leaned more heavily upon Paul's arm than she did. 
 when she came out ; this may have been from increased weak- 
 ness, or only from a slight fatigue. True, she went to ride 
 with Paul several times afterward, but she may have done so, 
 either because the first experiment was successful, or because 
 she did not experience from it all the good effects which were 
 anticipated. 
 
 This is one of those nice historical questions which can 
 never be accurately determined. 
 
 For further particulars we must refer to the New York 
 papers of the year 1855. Probably one might search the 
 newspapers of our country in vain for another instance in 
 which a young lady's death was announced in one year, and 
 her marriage published the next. '
 
 XXXI. 
 
 TO JUNE 1, 1855. 
 
 TIME flies 
 fast. One trav- 
 eler only can 
 overtake it ; 
 that is the his- 
 torian's pen. 
 
 We have now arrived at the very Present ; and it becomes 
 our only remaining duty to look about us from our home in 
 Cone Cut Corners, and to jot down the positions and prospects 
 of those with whom this history has chiefly had to do. 
 
 Mournful indeed are the scenes which, in the performance 
 of this task, we have to contemplate. For the consequences 
 of the enactment in Connecticut of that despotic and uncon- 
 stitutional statute known as the Prohibitory Law, were so dis- 
 astrous, and its effects upon the welfare and interests of the 
 friends whose history we h.ave narrated, were so serious, that
 
 428 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 we have not the heart to dwell upon them. Yet the duty of 
 the historian is a sacred duty ; that has been admitted by all 
 writers of history. He must tell the whole truth, however 
 painful. 
 
 Far happier for us would it be, if we could leave Captain 
 Mayferrie in the full possession of his constitutional liberties, 
 and of the hand-cart whereon he was drawn home from the 
 evening assemblage of the citizens. Far happier if in our last 
 glimpse of Gregory Donoe, we could see him in the full en- 
 joyment and unrestricted exercise of his lawful business, un- 
 forbidden to pour out now and then, for the red-nosed man, a 
 cheering glass of some beverage, such as is wholesome when 
 taken in moderation. Far happier, if bidding the ex-deacon a 
 cordial farewell, we could leave him still laboring effectively 
 in the field of moral suasion. But these things can not be. 
 The blighting influence of a fanatical and oppressive legisla- 
 tion forbids. 
 
 That influence was first felt in Cone Cut Corners, in its 
 effects upon the business carried on by Gregory Donoe. 
 
 Not long after the measures advocated by the tyrannical 
 minority had attained a temporary success and an imperma- 
 iiant position in the statute-book, the row of casks, the old 
 familiar casks, which for years had ornamented one side of 
 Gregory's store, disappeared. Innocent customers, in the sim- 
 plicity of their hearts, wondered at the storekeeper's prompt 
 submission to the law, and gave him all due praise therefor. 
 But rumor said that the back-room of his store, that very 
 room which Captain Mayferrie visited in December, 1835, 
 seeking for vinegar and molasses, now contained casks of 
 stronger fluids ; and fanatical suspicion, attentive to this sug-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 429 
 
 gestion of rumor, kept a sharp eye on the dealings of the mer- 
 chant. 
 
 For some time the evening soirees which in the by-gone 
 days of freedom, had been held around Gregory Donoe's stove, 
 were more quietly conducted than of old. And for some 
 months the fanatics gave him no trouble. Indeed he gave 
 the fanatics no trouble. For although his store was looked 
 upon with suspicion, and although scarcely any of the ladies 
 of Cone Cut were willing to purchase there if they could ob- 
 tain what they wanted at Colonel Willick's, and many of them 
 indeed refused to purchase there at all, and although the red- 
 nosed man and his companions "continued to frequent the 
 store, and to sun themselves in the doorway as before, and 
 although the atmosphere of the establishment continued to be 
 usually more suggestive than fragrant, yet notwithstanding all 
 this, the place was ordinarily more quiet, the laughter less 
 loud, the hilarity less high-toned, the profanity less profound, 
 than heretofore. Thus for a time the current of Mr. Donoe's 
 affairs ran smoothly. 
 
 Smoothly, that is to say, in external appearance. It was 
 from the very outset perceptible to the storekeeper himself, 
 though not to the eye of a stranger, that his interests were 
 seriously prejudiced by -the success which fanaticism had 
 achieved. 
 
 For example, in consequence of the check and restraint now 
 imposed upon that branch of his business from which his 
 chief profits had been derived, he was compelled to follow the 
 example of his brother landlords of the cities, and announce 
 a rise in his hotel charges. And thereafter temperance-men 
 stopping at his house for it was the only public house in the
 
 430 CONK CUT CORNERS. 
 
 village were compelled to pay a full price for their accommo- 
 dations, and were further deprived of the company of the jol- 
 liest set of good fellows in town. 
 
 And beside this, Gregory Donoe was no longer enabled by 
 the profits derived from his "lawful business," to undersell 
 Colonel Willick in those more substantial articles of traffic 
 which both merchants kept for sale, in common. Thus that 
 competition which has been said to be the life of trade and 
 which is not unfrequently seen to be the death of traders 
 was unseasonably checked in Cone Cut Corners, and business 
 stagnated, and times were hard with Gregoiy Donoe. 
 
 These things were not so perceptible, however, to general 
 observation, as to the merchant himself. But, at length, in 
 an evil hour, emboldened by his freedom from interruption in 
 business for several months, and confiding in his natural and 
 constitutional rights, that entertainer of man and beast, one 
 evening entertained the red-nosed gentleman until he made a 
 beast of him, and then thrust him out of doors for creating 
 disorder in the store. The consequence of this was, that a 
 party of the fanatics, incited by Calick Pease, pounced upon 
 the red-nosed gentleman as he lay quietly reposing by the 
 side of the road, in the full enjoyment of his constitutional 
 liberties, and bore him away to jail. There he was compelled, 
 by duress of imprisonment, to disclose the name of his enter- 
 tainer, which he did, it must be confessed, without much 
 show of reluctance. This information having been obtained, 
 and some trifling forms of law having been gone through, 
 such as making affidavits, obtaining legal process, and the 
 like, the party of fanatics, accompanied by an executive tyrant, 
 known as the sheriff, proceeded the next morning to the store
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 431 
 
 of Gregory Donoe with the open and avowed purpose of de- 
 stroying his lawful property. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie coming down the hill into the village, 
 meets this company of disorganizes on their way. He bids 
 Calick good morning, and shakes hands with him, at which 
 Calick is much surprised ; and he asks the party where they 
 are going. Or, as his own expression is : 
 
 "What's the fun?" 
 
 The party, regarding the Captain as probably a friend and 
 supporter of their intended victim, try to evade his question. 
 But the Captain is not a man to be easily evaded; so at 
 length with some hesitation, they disclose to him their plans. 
 
 " Good !" says he, " count me in for that." 
 
 So they all proceed together. The Captain walks by the 
 side of Calick, the sheriff and the red-nosed man go arm in 
 arm, several other fanatics follow, and a little crowd of boys 
 bring up the rear. In this order they reach Gregory Donoe r s 
 store. They here find the merchant standing in his own door- 
 way, taking the benefit of the morning sun. 
 
 " Good morning, gentlemen," he says, as they file up before 
 his door, " what can I do for you to-day ?" 
 
 Captain Mayferrie appoints himself spokesman, inducts him- 
 self into oifice, and proceeds to the performance of his duties. 
 
 " We want to get," he says, " some first-rate old Cognac. 
 Some genuine, you know. And a good quantity. I should n't 
 wonder if we would take ah 1 you Ve got. But you must let 
 us have it cheap, you know, seeing it 's us," the Captain 
 adds. 
 
 " Have n't got no Conyack," replies Gregory Donoe, gruffly. 
 
 He stretches out his legs, and puts his arms akimbo against
 
 432 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 the door-posts, and so stands, to guard the sacredness of his 
 threshold to the last. 
 
 "Well," says the Captain, cheerfully, "that's bad, but 
 we '11 try to bear it. Some first quality New England would 
 do just about as well indeed, quite as well." 
 
 " Have n't got no New England," replies Gregory, no more 
 amiably than before. 
 
 "Why, my dear fellow," remonstrates the Captain, 
 jocularly, " you don't know your own store as well as I do." 
 
 And the party draw closer forward to enter the door. 
 
 " Now, I '11 tell you what it is," the merchant commences, 
 with much decision, " this is n't any use. I know what you 
 want, and you can't have it. I 've a right to sell what I 
 please, and I'm a going to sell what I please, and what's 
 more, I 'd like to see the man that '11 try to stop me. I 
 know who 's at the bottom of this thing. Where 's Willick ? 
 I don't wonder he 's ashamed to show his head. No you 
 don't, Captain." 
 
 This last sentence is uttered in reply to an endeavor, on the 
 part of the Captain, to enter the store. He answers it by 
 striking down Mr. Donoe's arm, and pushing in. The mer- 
 chant strives to thrust the intruder back. The Captain lifts 
 him off his feet, and sets him down upon the counter. 
 
 " You be quiet," he says. 
 
 The executive tyrant, the red-nosed man, and a few others 
 of the party, follow the Captain into the store. Calick 
 remains at the door to keep out the crowd. 
 
 " This 'ere 's a pretty piece of lawlessness for respectable 
 men, like you, to be mixed up in, is n't it ?" inquires Gregory, 
 sitting very still where the Captain has placed him. "Do
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 433 
 
 you suppose I 'm a going to submit to it 1 To come into the 
 store of a peaceable citizen like me, and offer me personal 
 violence, and put me in bodily fear ? Do you think I 'm 
 going to sit still, like a fool, and bear it?" continues the mer- 
 chant, still sitting on the counter, and looking, it must be 
 confessed, not unlike one. " I tell you what, if you think 
 so, you don't know who you Ve got to deal with, if you do, 
 I '11 be " 
 
 And the storekeeper completes his sentence with a pro- 
 phecy, which, although not unlikely to be fulfilled, we will 
 not record, even for the sake of accrediting so upright 
 and honest a man as Gregory Donoe, with far-sighted sa- 
 gacity. 
 
 " You 'd better keep quiet," says the Captain, in an ad- 
 visory manner. 
 
 " I tell you, I won't keep quiet," returns Gregory Donoe, 
 sharply, " I won't sit quietly by, and submit to such a thing. 
 What do you mean by breaking into a man's store in this 
 style, eh 1 I wonder you ain't ashamed of yourselves ; you 
 are, I know you are." 
 
 And so strongly does the merchant feel the disgrace which 
 attaches to the conduct of his fellow-townsmen, that he sits 
 quietly where the Captain has placed him, and hangs his own 
 honest head in very shame. 
 
 In the meantime, the red-nosed man, who takes great 
 interest in the proceedings, and is in a high state of excite- 
 ment, has explained to the executive tyrant, that the " lawful 
 property" of Gregory Donoe fc chiefly kept in the back-room 
 of the store, and has pointed tint to him the entrance. They 
 
 try the door. It is locked. 
 
 19
 
 434 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 " We shall have to knock it in," says the Captain, taking up, 
 suggestively, an ax ; one of Gregory's own axes. 
 
 " Not quite so fast," says the sheriff, " let me speak to Mr, 
 Donoe first." 
 
 So he comes back to "where the merchant sits flushed and 
 heated upon his counter. When he speaks to him he speaks 
 very slowly and distinctly. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Donoe, you can do just which you like. You 
 can either submit quietly and give up what liquor you 've got 
 on your premises, or you can refuse, and then we shall have 
 to take it. If you give it up, you save us trouble, and get 
 yourself out of a scrape. If we have to take it, we shall take 
 you along with it. That 's all." 
 
 " You can't do it," says Gregory, doggedly. " If I 've got 
 any liquor it 's mine, and you can't touch it It 's private 
 property ; and you can't take it for public use without com- 
 pensation." 
 
 v " That 's just it," says Captain Mayferrie, putting aside this 
 constitutional argument, plagiarised from Esquire Blote, " we 
 ain't a going to take your liquor for public use, we 're going 
 to take it to prevent its public use." 
 
 " You can't do it," the merchant reiterates. " It 's- property. 
 You can't destroy property." 
 
 " Now I think," says the Captain, good-humoredly, " that 
 property 's about the only thing you can destroy." 
 
 " Who cares what you think ?" retorts the merchant, ad- 
 dressing himself sharply to the Captain, " a man that darsen't 
 live under his own name, and lets his daughter grow up ou 
 other folks' charity. Who cares .what such a fellow as you 
 thinks ?"
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 435 
 
 The Captain winces at this thrust, and turns away, fol- 
 lowed by the kindly eyes of Calick. 
 
 " Well, well," says the executive tyrant, " we understand 
 each other. You won't give up the liquor, and yen say you 
 have n't got any. Very good. First, then, I 've got a war- 
 rant to arrest you, and search your store. And you 're my 
 prisoner, to begin with." 
 
 And the sheriff, exhibiting a legal-looking document, 
 half printed, half written, to the eyes of the bewildered mer- 
 chant, clasps with his left hand Gregory's right arm, midway 
 between the elbow and the shoulder, and so holds him. 
 
 " Second, I want the key to that door." 
 
 " There 's nothing in there." 
 
 " That 's nothing to the purpose, I want the key." 
 
 " You can't have the key." 
 
 " Knock it open, Captain." 
 
 The Captain swings the ax round in the air to give it mo- 
 mentum, and brings it once and again heavily against the 
 door by the lock. The Captain is a stout man, and two blows 
 bring the door open. 
 
 The merchant pushes his hat back from his, forehead, and 
 with a red bandana handkerchief wipes his brow. It is not a 
 warm day, but the perspiration stands there in large drops. 
 
 " For God's sake don't, gentlemen. I '11 do any thing you 
 want. I '11 send that liquor right off, this week to-day thi.s 
 morning. I never '11 sell another drop in town. On my 
 word and honor, gentlemen, I never will." 
 
 They pay no attention to his expostulations, but roll the 
 casks out to the front door, one by one. The work is done 
 very quietly, the crowd being still kept in the street by
 
 436 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Calick. It is curious to notice with what interest Jerry 
 watches this invasion of the commercial interests of Cone Cut 
 Corners. 
 
 " You 're a precious, prying, sneaking, spying set," says 
 Gregory, breaking out again. " You shall rue this ; every 
 mother's son of you. Things is come to a pretty pass when a 
 man is a going to be robbed of his property in this style. 
 We '11 see that 's all." 
 
 Gregory Donoe, in his most polite and amiable conversa- 
 tion, was never particularly shy of an occasional oath. Now 
 he invokes upon the heads of all present, both individually 
 and collectively, more curses than we are willing to record. 
 
 The casks being at length all rolled out, the sheriff, still 
 holding Gregory familiarly by the arm, conducts him down 
 the street, having previously made arrangements for the tem- 
 porary care of the liquor, until the judgment of the law re- 
 specting its final disposal shall be known. Without particu- 
 larly describing the legal proceedings taken for the purpose 
 of arriving at that judgment, it is sufficient to say that they 
 result in the imposition of a fine upon Gregory, which he sul- 
 lenly pays to protect the Constitution from being further vio- 
 lated by his personal incarceration, and also in a decree for 
 the destruction of the liquor found in his possession. And 
 accordingly one morning in early spring, the casks are 
 rolled out upon the village common, and there are roughly 
 beaten in pieces, their contents flowing out upon the green 
 
 And to this day the spot a round spot it is, about a rod 
 across is noticeable in the Cone Cut Common. It looks 
 like a sort of churchyard ; every drop there buried has its
 
 CONE CUT COBNERS. 437 
 
 tombstone, a blade of rusty, dead and withered grass. Else- 
 where the common is bright and green, and smiles and rustles 
 in the sun of opening June ; but there the round spot lies, 
 dead and discolored, as if to show what devastation unre- 
 strained fanaticism works or meaning, it may be, to teach 
 that other lesson, that nature loathes and scorns perversions of 
 her gifts to man. There the round, red spot lies ; and the 
 worms will not burrow in it, and the caterpillars scorn to 
 crawl across it, and the grasshoppers that happen to alight 
 upon it, leap to one side with a warning chirp to all their 
 kind, exhorting them to come not near it, and of all the 
 voices of nature, and of all the creatures of God's making, 
 two only ever lamented over it These were Esquire Blote 
 and Gregory Donoe, who leaned against the fence one night 
 to gaze upon it ; and the one said that the law was unconsti- 
 tutional, and a gross invasion of the natural rights of man, 
 meaning man's right to pour a blight over the whole life and 
 prospects of his fellow-man ; and the other cursed it for an 
 infernal humbug. 
 
 Esquire Blote is still a dweller in Cone Cut Corners ; but 
 Gregory Donoe is no longer numbered among its citizens. 
 Of course no man, however useful in the community, can be 
 expected to maintain his position in spite of the wanton de- 
 struction of his lawful and constitutional property. The 
 storekeeper having found himself entirely unable to pro- 
 tect his obnoxious goods from a legalized plunder, and being 
 a man of that firmness of moral character, which can not sub- 
 mit even for convenience's sake to iniquity and oppression, 
 was finally forced to sell out his place, and remove to a more 
 liberal and enlightened State, to wit, New Jersey ; where,
 
 438 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 within convenient distance of the city of New York, he has 
 bought him a large distillery, which he conducts in con- 
 nection with an extensive dairy. The present age ignores 
 fastidious prejudice, and it is found that cows who have be- 
 come antiquated, and have even outgrown the requisite 
 qualifications for city beef, are readily recruited, and have the 
 freshness of their youth renewed, by a judicious course of 
 fluid diet in the precincts of a distillery. Gregory Donoe, 
 aware of this principle, and in the charity of his heart wish- 
 ing well to all creatures, has accordingly founded an asylum, 
 or one might say hospital, for aged, respectable and indigent 
 bovine females, and he has caused to be painted upon the car- 
 riages of that institution, its title in full : " G. Donoe's Pure 
 Orange County Milk Dairy." These carriages may be seen 
 in the city every morning. 
 
 This is but another note of the universal voice of warning 
 against fanatical and unconstitutional principles. For should 
 the State of New Jersey ever pass a Jaw which should inter- 
 fere with these dear rights of their adopted son, and others 
 engaged in the same honorable calling, hundreds of hungry 
 infants would be cut off from their daily supply of the Pure 
 Orange County Milk of G. Donoe, and the aged, respectable, 
 and indigent inmates of his establishment will be thrown out 
 of their last asylum, and brought to their end without even 
 the temporary respite which the nourishing diet of charity 
 now bestows. 
 
 As for Mr. Ficksom, the ex-deacon, he was not the man to 
 desert his post in defending great moral principles, tinder the 
 influence of mere worldly considerations. He regretted that
 
 CONE CUT COUNEUS. 439 
 
 the town must lose the presence, influence and name of so re- 
 spectable a citizen as Mr. Gregory Donoe, but that individual 
 considering it necessary that he should remove, the ex-deacon 
 bought out his store and his stock of such goods as remained 
 yet unthreatened by sumptuary legislation, together with his 
 hotel and the goodwill of the same ; and thereupon, to the 
 end that he might be enabled the more effectually to render 
 judicious service to the cause of temperance, exerted him- 
 self diligently in electioneering for the office of town agent 
 under the new law. 
 
 Having succeeded in securing this appointment, not so much 
 indeed on account of any sincere esteem in which he was held 
 in Cone Cut Corners, as by reason that there was no other trad- 
 er in the town who possessed that degree of public spirit that 
 rendered him willing to take the agency, Mr. Ficksom posted 
 notices of the fact throughout the village, announcing to his 
 fellow-townsmen that the undersigned had become the suc- 
 cessor of Mr. Gregory Donoe, and that the business lately 
 earned on by that gentleman would be continued at his old 
 stand, its scope being enlarged by the addition of a well-as- 
 sorted stock of drugs and medicines, including the articles 
 which, as town agent, he the undersigned alone was authorized 
 to dispense. This proclamation having been judiciously cir- 
 culated, the ex-deacon resolved to visit New York, to purchase 
 additions to his stock in trade, with especial reference to sup- 
 plying the deficiency occasioned by the destruction of his pre- 
 decessor's lawful property. Taking his departure from Cone 
 Cut in pursuance of this resolution, he arrived in the city in 
 due course of time. 
 
 As the ex-deacon was passing down Broadway, soon after
 
 440 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 his arrival, in search of the several stores where he had been 
 advised to make his purchases, liis attention was caught by a 
 large placard upon the windows of a respectable and even 
 venerable store, wherefrom it appeared that the firm of Bag- 
 glehall, Floric & Co., were selling out their large and well- 
 selected stock of wines and liquors, at a great sacrifice, " To 
 CLOSE THE CONCERN." 
 
 "Aha," said the ex-deacon, "< at a sacrifice.* I like that, 
 I '11 go in. Prices '11 be low here." 
 
 He accordingly entered the store. A salesman, the success- 
 or of the unfortunate Mr. Hj^eocks, came forward with great 
 courtesy to meet him. 
 
 ".Good morning," said Mr, Ficksom, returning the polite 
 bow of the salesman, and wondering if they had ever met be- 
 fore, since the man seemed to know him so well. 
 
 The salesman affably returned the salutation. 
 
 " Well. I see you 're a selling off." 
 
 " Yes," said the successor of the lamented Hococks, smiling 
 sadly. " We 're selling off. At a tremendous sacrifice. To 
 close the concern." 
 
 And the salesman raised his hand toward the solemn pla- 
 cards which were hung upon every available point and pinna- 
 cle within the store, announcing the fatal rite. 
 
 "To be sure," said the ex-deacon, and his face expressed 
 a concise tract upon the evil effects of sumptuary laws. 
 " You 've got the pr'hibitory law here too, I understand." 
 
 " Oh, it is n't that," said the clerk, smiling again more sadly 
 still, " at least not entirely. It 's in consequence of the death 
 of our partner, Mr. Floric." 
 
 " Lost your partner, eh ? That 's bad," said the ex-deacon,
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 441 
 
 subduing his features, to give, as it were, visible utterance to 
 a funeral sermon upon tlie late lamented Mr. Floric, in which 
 were summed up more of the virtues of the deceased than was 
 to have been expected, considering that Mr. Ficksom never 
 had the advantage of his personal acquaintance. 
 
 " Yes," said the clerk, " it 's very unfortunate for the busi- 
 ness, very indeed." 
 
 The ex-deacon repeated the funeral sermon by special re- 
 quest, as it were. 
 
 " Hm-m-m," he sighed, gazing slowly around the store, and 
 visibly affected at the tokens of the intended sacrifice, " how 
 are your prices ?" 
 
 " Oh, we 've marked every thing right down," said the 
 clerk, " down to nothing at all, almost." 
 
 " Well," inquired the ex-deacon, " how much do you ask 
 for good brandy ?" 
 
 " That," said the salesman, pointing to a demijohn standing 
 on the floor near by, " is a little we Ve just put up for a cus- 
 tomer for private use. It 's the very best. Just that quality, 
 exactly that grade, you 'd have to pay eight dollars for at the 
 druggist's. It 's worth it. We put it to him at four fifty. 
 We 'd let you have it at how much should you want ?" 
 
 " Well, I should want considerable of a quantity," said Mr. 
 Ficksom. 
 
 " Well, we 'd let you have it by the quantity, say by 
 the cask, well, we 'd put it to you at four dollars; and 
 that's ever so much below cost." 
 
 As the original outlay incurred by the firm of Bagglchall, 
 Floric & Co., in the purchase of the brandy in question, did 
 not exceed a dollar a gallon, it is to be supposed that the 
 19* '
 
 442 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 in estimating its cost, included in addition to the 
 price paid for the liquor, a fair compensation per gallon for 
 his own time and labor expended in rendering to it services 
 somewhat similar to those once performed by Mr. Hococks 
 to the old South Side Madeira. And it is also probable 
 that he included, as dealers frequently do in estimating the 
 cost of their wares for the purpose of computing a price at 
 which they will sell them as an especial favor to a particular 
 customer, an assessment of the whole sum expended in the 
 payment of freight, interest, rent, storage, insurance, fuel, 
 salaries, personal expenses, and other items of cost incurred in 
 placing their goods in the market. 
 
 The ex-deacon was, however, too inexperienced in com- 
 mercial business to be yet familiar with this new principle of 
 computation. 
 
 " Surely," said he to himself, and he indited a composition 
 on the Advantages of Friendship, and appeared to present it to 
 an imaginary preceptor for correction ; " this man knows me, 
 and he seems to be a friend of mine, too." 
 
 And the ex-deacon, confiding in the friendship of the suc- 
 cessor of Mr. Hococks, purchased a cask of brandy, and 
 a considerable stock of other liquors also ; and with this 
 assortment of what the judicious friends of temperance class 
 among the best gifts of Providence to man, he returned to 
 Cone Cut Corners. 
 
 In Cone Cut he has now re-opened Mr. Donoe's store, where 
 he puts up medical prescriptions for a great many persons in 
 that region, whose family medicine-chest still consists of a 
 stone jug, or a brown bottle ; and also supplies the essentials 
 in carrying into effect a great number of mechanical purposes,
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 443 
 
 suggested by the inventive genius of the Cone Cutters, many 
 of which are highly ingenious and novel. 
 
 It should be in justice remarked, that while the prohibitory 
 law has, in some way or other, occasioned a large increase in 
 sickness throughout the State, it has certainly also done 
 much to strengthen and develop that mechanical genius for 
 which the people of Connecticut have always been so 
 celebrated. 
 
 In respect to these effects of that noted statute, the ex- 
 deacon and his family are sufferers rather than beneficiaries. 
 Whether it arises from their removal from their old home to 
 a strange residence, or whether the drug department renders 
 the atmosphere of the house unhealthy, we can not undertake 
 to say ; but the fact is unquestionable, that Mr. Ficksom com- 
 plains a great deal of sickness in his family, and that his own 
 health is very poor. Upon further reflection, however, we 
 think it probable that the unwholesome savor of medicinal 
 articles is the cause of this ; for it has been noticed that 
 many of the strangers who, in passing through the town, eeek 
 entertainment beneath his hospitable roof for the nighf, 
 experience symptoms of illness, and require medical treatment 
 before morning.' 
 
 In fact, so serious in this respect have been the results of 
 Mr. Ficksom's appointment, that although he has held the 
 office of town agent but a short time, there are already many 
 in Cone Cut Corners who are heard to express the opinion 
 that he ought to be as soon as possible relieved from his oner- 
 ous duties ; and it is now rumored in the village that, as soon 
 as opportunity offers, a new agent will be appointed. 
 
 Let us hopg for such a consummation. Then may the
 
 444 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 family recover its wonted health, and the venerable person of 
 so judicious a friend of temperance be preserved from falling 'a 
 sacrifice to the cause. 
 
 Jerry Bender, as the red-nosed man is known upon the bap- 
 tismal records of his native place, wherever that may be if 
 indeed his name was conferred in baptism, which is not cer- 
 tain found the departure of Gregory Donoe an important era 
 in his life. 
 
 In the good old days of individual liberty, Jerry had been 
 a gentleman of leisure. No gentleman, indeed, ever had more 
 leisure, more of nothing to do, (and this, it would appear, is 
 one of the distinguishing marks of the fine gentleman,) than 
 did Jerry under the old system. A fine gentleman is, in fact, a 
 man who has some money, and nothing to do. Jerry, even 
 in the palmiest days of old tunes, never had so much money 
 as a first class gentleman, but he had just as much leisure. 
 But now, from the condition of a gentleman, he fell to that of 
 a laborer. 
 
 It is not at all probable, indeed, that the mere passage of 
 any statute, however imperative in its terms, could have 
 caused the change in Jerry's course of life, which his judicious 
 friends have been so much grieved to notice. Xor is it to be 
 believed that the temporary enthusiasm with which he entered 
 into the injudicious projects of the fanatics, betokened any 
 permanent change of purpose at that time, or would have 
 resulted in any enduring alteration of character, had it not 
 been for the timidity of Mr. Donoe's successor. The ex-dea- 
 con, understanding that it was no other than Jerry who had 
 been the means of bringing the fanatics upon his prede-
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 445 
 
 cessor, thought it would be his safest policy, in the conduct 
 of the agency, to refuse all applications which Jerry might 
 make for liquor, no matter what their plausibility or urgency. 
 He feared, not unnaturally, that he in turn, in some mo- 
 ment of weakness or indiscretion upon the part of Jerry, 
 might be made a victim of fanaticism. 
 
 Accordingly, Jerry's oft-repeated requests and demands for 
 liquor, were uniformly refused by the worthy agent. Jerry 
 implored it for startling emergencies in medical treatment, 
 and commanded that it be furnished him, for most unques- 
 tionable mechanical purposes, but in vain. The ex-deacon 
 was firm. 
 
 Becoming convinced of this, Jerry, with a firmness of pur- 
 pose which can not but be admired, even in a gentleman, set 
 himself at work to earn some money. He did this at first 
 with a view to the accumulation of a fund wherewith to pur- 
 chase, for his private use, some of the best gifts of Providence 
 to man, in the original packages of importation ; the right to 
 buy which was, he understood, constitutionally reserved to 
 him. But before his earnings had reached a sum sufficient 
 for that purpose, he quite relapsed into his old habits of in- 
 dustry, devoted his savings to the purchase of bread, clothes, 
 and other like trifles for himself and family, and is likely, so 
 far as the experience of the winter indicates, 'to occupy con- 
 tentedly, for the remainder of his life, the humble position of 
 a laborer. 
 
 But how came Captain Mayferrie to take so ready and 
 active a part in the invasion of Mr. Donoe's store ? 
 
 The truth, if it must be told, was this. During the two
 
 446 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 years which had now passed away since Salanda took up her 
 residence with her then newly-discovered father, she had em- 
 ployed every means in her power to induce him voluntarily to 
 surrender the exercise of his constitutional liberties, and to 
 forego the use of those very gifts of Providence which he most 
 dearly loved. To this end she had employed entreaties, argu- 
 ments, tears, smiles, kindness, solicitations all those means 
 which in their crude state constitute moral suasion, but in 
 their highest, most perfect, and most efficient exercise, are 
 known as Woman's influence. Her efforts, however, had been 
 of little avail to change the Captain's course, so long as the 
 manly firmness of his character had to contend only with a 
 daughter's wishes. He would, it is true, occasionally yield for 
 a few hours, or even a day or two, to the urgency of her en- 
 treaties, and would promise a compliance with her requests ; 
 but no sooner was he relieved from the immediate embarrass- 
 ment of her presence, and permitted again to share the enliv- 
 ening companionship of Gregory Donoe's customers, than the 
 native force of his character revived, he threw off the restraints 
 which womanish weakness had imposed, and the Captain was 
 himself again. 
 
 No sooner, however, was Salanda's influence at home re en- 
 forced by legislation without no sooner were the casks and 
 attendant fixtures in Gregory Donoe's store removed out of 
 sight no sooner was a check imposed upon the festivities of 
 the store, and that establishment itself stigmatized with the 
 suspicion of illegal traffic and consequent disgrace than 
 the Captain yielded to the duplicated influences now brought 
 to bear upon him, and surrendered his constitutional liberties 
 with scarcely a murmur. This change in his character and
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 447 
 
 habits having been thoroughly accomplished about the time 
 when the invasion of the store of his old friend occurred, it is 
 perhaps not surprising that he weakly fell in .with the plans 
 and purposes of the fanatics, and to the extent which has been 
 already described, lent his assistance to cany them into effect. 
 
 It is really a little curious that although all the truly judi- 
 cious and conservative members of the community know that 
 the Captain is wronged and oppressed by this sumptuary leg- 
 islation, the victim himself has an impression that he is very 
 happy under it. -He thinks misguided man ! that it has 
 secured to him his true liberty. Such are the delusions of 
 fanaticism, that he really believes that he is happier and more 
 truly free now, than he ever was before. More than this, he 
 has been heard to say that if the judicious friends of temper- 
 ance should succeed in their efforts to procure a repeal of the 
 law (which they are not likely to do) that he could not be 
 tempted to remain in the State ; not even to regain his old 
 constitutional liberties. 
 
 Salanda quite agrees with him. This, however, only shows 
 in a still more striking light, how little women can understand 
 of politics. 
 
 Salanda is as happy as a young lady, who is not quite yet a 
 married lady, can be. She is at home upon the old place 
 now, and the old place is now a home to her. She rejoices 
 in her noble father now. 
 
 The broad fields and meadows around the house, which Mr. 
 Mayferrie had lately regarded as composing a country seat, 
 have yielded to the blighting influences cast upon the indus- 
 trial interests of the State, and have again relapsed into a 
 farm. They began to resume that character in ihe fall, before
 
 448 CONE CUT COKITE-KS. 
 
 they went to sleep for the winter, and now all the voices of 
 spring are waking up the farm again. 
 
 Calick is again in favor, too, and assists the Captain as of 
 old in indefatigable labors. The Captain himself is once more, 
 in an elderly way, the gentlemanly man, and his evident re- 
 gard and afiection daily apologizes to Calick for former 
 troubles, and sufficiently thank him for those honest remon- 
 strances and reproofs, so kindly meant, so harshly repulsed, 
 causing so long a separation. 
 
 With Calick's assistance the fields are assuming their old 
 industry. The wheat is just tinging with green the brown 
 earth, in places where brambles and weeds once lorded it, and 
 delicate grasses and promises of heavy-crowned clover-heads 
 are beginning to take up their abode where rank flags and 
 cat-o'-nine-tails marked a marsh before. 
 
 Captain Mayferrie on a bright morning bethinks himself 
 of a new orchard, and with much care and patient toil, 
 plants those stems which he knows can never be to him any 
 thing more than slight shade to a gray head, but the fruit of 
 which, he hopes that others may enjoy in future years. Now 
 too, in little intervals of more pressing cares, he plans a build- 
 ing-spot, and of an evening, when the labors of the day are 
 ended he goes out to view it, and his trembling hand puts 
 acorns to slumber in the ground along the outline of an im- 
 aginary avenue to the site, on which, if his cherished fancy shall 
 be fulfilled, his daughter may one day have a summer home. 
 
 And Salanda is as happy as a young lady who is not quite 
 yet a married lady can be. She H&t home upon the old 
 place now, and the old place is now a home to her. And she 
 rejoices in her cousin Jason now.
 
 CONE CUT CORKERS. 449 
 
 Aunt Provy has heard one afternoon lately, by some method 
 of electric communication, that Jason has arrived in the stage ; 
 and she thinks that May is rather early for him to come, into 
 the country, unless he comes on business. 
 
 But then, perhaps Jason has come on business. 
 
 Whether he has or not, he clambers down from the driver's 
 box when the stage has reached the postoffice, and greeting 
 somewhat quietly the few inevitable acquaintances who meet 
 him, as if he does not care to make his arrival known, walks 
 up the village-street, and draws near Aunty Pease's house. It 
 is not ten minutes since on the stage-box he passed the bound- 
 ary of the township, and came within the legal limits of Cone 
 Cut Corners ; but Aunt Provy has already some mysterious 
 notice of his coming, and does not choose to let him pass her 
 door without a greeting. 
 
 She calls to him from the window of her little parlor. 
 
 " How do they all do," asks Jason, " up at ?" 
 
 " They are very well," replies Aunt Provy ; " at least he 's 
 well, but she is n't." 
 
 " Is she sick ? why, what 's the matter ?" 
 
 " Yes," answers Aunt Provy, " she 's getting old, and the 
 rheumatism troubles her." 
 
 " Oh ! Mrs. Graynes !" 
 
 " Yes," says Aunt Provy, " I supposed you was going there." 
 
 " No, I meant up at the Captain's." 
 
 " Oh ! the Capp'n's ? He 's very well. He 's doing very 
 well now." 
 
 And ?" 
 
 " Calick ?" interposes Aunt Provy. " Yes, he 's well. He 's 
 up there now."
 
 450 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 w And Salanda f asks Jason. 
 
 " Oh, Salanda," replies Aunt Provy, as if Salanda's health 
 was a matter of the least possible importance. " She 's well 
 enough, I expect. She always is." 
 
 It is not in the power of the electric telegraph longer to 
 detain Jason. He bids Aunt Provy good evening, and has- 
 tens on. From her window she watches him walking briskly 
 up the hill. And if ever upon the whole surface of this sub- 
 lunary globe an electric telegraph has been seen to wink, it 
 is, when Jason passing the little white gate of the parsonage, 
 with scarce a glance, pushes on toward Captain Mayferrie's. 
 
 But then perhaps Jason has come on business. 
 
 Whether he has or not, evening finds him still at the 
 Captain's. Tea being over, Mr. Mayferrie has, upon invitation 
 of Calick, gone out to consult on some new arrangements de- 
 vised by his thoughtful friend for the better accommodation 
 of the horse. Aunt Provy, who has never quite surrendered 
 her motherly care for Salanda, has come up to insist upon 
 taking charge of certain baking operations, which it would 
 seem the arrival of Jason rendered necessary. Salanda and 
 Jason are in the sitting room, where they can hear Aunt 
 Provy bustling about the kitchen, beating eggs, and opening 
 and shutting the little oven door from time to time. 
 
 Ah ! Jason, if you have come on business, now is your 
 time. 
 
 Why Jason should leave the rocking-chair, near the fire- 
 place, and go away back to the window, and sit down by Sa- 
 landa in the window-seat, just where there is least room for 
 him, we can not understand ; but so he does. Why that mis- 
 chievous curl o-ill fall down inviting him to play with it, we
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 451 
 
 can not imagine. He accepts the invitation, however, and 
 winds it back and forth upon his finger. 
 
 Ah ! Jason, if you have come on business, now is your time. 
 
 " Salanda," says he, in a very low tone. 
 
 He stops for her to say " What ?" 
 
 It is certainly very unreasonable for him to expect her to 
 make this oral response, because, although very much oc- 
 cupied with her work, she is paying close attention to what ho 
 says ; closer indeed than any young lady ever did before. It 
 is certainly quite unnecessary for him to suspend the conver- 
 sation until she shall say " What ?" but he persists in doing so. 
 After a little pause, she says it ; then he recommences. 
 
 " I I oh you have never seen my sister Frederica, have 
 you ?" 
 
 What an insignificant question ! Of course she 'never has. 
 He knows it. 
 
 But it is of little use for us who are strangers, tt> linger 
 around Captain Mayferrie's. Nobody will receive much 
 attention here, apparently, unless he has come on business. 
 We have not, and we should be quite neglected. 
 
 If Jason came on business, it seems probable that he suc- 
 ceeds in it, whatever it is ; for in a day or two he takes his 
 departure, wearing every appearance of a young man engaged 
 in a very extensive and prosperous business indeed. 
 
 And now it appears that there is an endless amount 
 of sewing to be done. Whether it is getting ready for sum- 
 mer that occupies Salanda all the spring for it takes some 
 young ladies the whole of one season to prepare for the next, 
 or whether raiment is being manufactured for some charit- 
 able mission, or whether Salanda herself has decided to go into
 
 452 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 business certain it is, that an immense deal of sewing 
 is going on in the house. And in the hurry and bustle of it 
 all, back comes Jason again bringing a young lady whom 
 Salanda has never seen before a young lady rather pale and 
 thin she is, but her smile is more than bright enough to make 
 up for that, and Salanda runs to the garden-gate when she 
 sees them coming, and cries out delighted 
 
 "Ah! Freddie." 
 
 And Freddie, if Freddie it is, smiles her bright smile, and 
 embraces Salanda, and says, " Welcome sister," and then looks 
 from Salanda to Jason, and smiles again with that same bright 
 sisterly smile, and the dimples of affection break out as be- 
 fore, except that they shine now on Salanda and Jason both. 
 And the two girls walk up the path, dividing Jason between 
 them, and leaning upon his arms, and bending forward to 
 talk to each other, and looking up to hear him speak ; and 
 Jason looks into their faces as they look up to his, and he 
 wishes the path was a full mile long; and Salanda has 
 no bonnet on, and without the least hesitation or sense of 
 propriety, and no signal of warning to her, Jason bows his 
 head, and well, really and with Aunt Provy there at the 
 window, right before him too and without the slightest prov- 
 ocation how can he ? 
 
 And Salanda is as happy as a young lady who is not quite 
 yet a married lady, can be. She is at home upon the old 
 place now, and the old place is now a home to her and all 
 she loves. She rejoices in a sister Freddie now. 
 
 Freddie is come to stay two days, but, by the time she 
 leaves, it appears that the tables in the arithmetics are wrong, 
 and that two days make a week.
 
 CONE CUT CORNERS. 453 
 
 During this week, the young ladies take each other into 
 many mutual confidences. It is well, perhaps, at least for 
 Freddie, that they do so ; otherwise she might have been 
 covered with confusion instead of delight, when in the after- 
 noon of the sixth day, the morrow having been definitely and 
 finally appointed for her departure, Mr. Paul Bundle, M.D., is 
 perceived looking inquiringly up at the house from the road, 
 as if endeavoring to identify it. Mr. Bundle, of course, is not 
 allowed to remain in uncertainty long, and when he comes in 
 with his guide Freddie, he congratulates Jason, he does not 
 say upon what upon his success in business, we suppose in 
 a way that shows he judges other people by himself. 
 
 Then it is explained, also, that Mr. Paul Bundle, M.D., is 
 present by invitation of Jason, authorized by Salanda, but 
 concealed from Freddie. And Jason is called to account by 
 his sister for the artifice, and although he receives a little re- 
 buke for well, Miss Freddie does not seem to know for what 
 exactly he feels, doubtless, amply repaid in the relief he ex- 
 periences from the duty of entertaining two ladies at once. 
 
 Then, too, come full accounts from Paul of the welfare of 
 all at home of father's continued prosperity and good habits, 
 of mother's restored health and happiness, and Susie's good 
 looks improved by country life and freedom from toil and 
 care. And it appears, too, that Mr. Edgecutt has been to 
 Maine on business to settle up accounts with Mrs. Bundle, 
 probably, though Paul is not very explicit on this point and 
 whether the lawyer at the same time opened a new account 
 with the young lady, must remain a matter of conjecture. 
 
 Now is projected also, a joint excursion by Jason and Sa- 
 lauda, accompanied by Paul and Freddie, to Niagara and the
 
 454 CONE CUT CORNERS. 
 
 Lakes, and a day in the latter part of May is named for its 
 commencement. 
 
 Time flies fast in the hurry and bustle of the continued sew- 
 ing, the appointed day rapidly approaches, and at length ar- 
 rives. But before Salanda leaves town, in fact on the very 
 morning of her departure, at a most inconvenient hour, imme- 
 diately after breakfast, there is a little party at the Captain's, 
 consisting of a dozen or so of Salanda's particular friends, in- 
 cluding' Elder Graynes ; and every body stands up, although 
 there are a plenty of chairs, and Elder Graynes makes himself 
 more prominent than clergymen are usually expected to do 
 at a party, and indeed quite takes the lead in the conversa- 
 tion, and Mr. Paul Bundle, M.D., who happens to be stand- 
 ing near Jason, becomes confused in his mind, mistaking the 
 occasion for a donation party, and makes the Elder a little 
 donation ; and there is a little cake passed around, if it is directly 
 after breakfast, and there is a good deal of shaking of hands, 
 and so forth ; but if any body cries for people do sometimes 
 cry at parties given so early in the morning it is not Jason. 
 
 The month of May leaving this world for whatever journey 
 lies before departing months, smiles upon the old place with 
 her last glance, and upon Mr. Mayferrie at home alone. 
 
 He lives alone on the old place now, but he is happy in 
 his daughter's happiness, in the expectation of her frequent 
 visits, in the confidence in her undiminished affection and con- 
 tinued filial care and kindness, and in the knowledge that his 
 family includes no longer a daughter only, but a beloved son. 
 
 He lives alone on the old place now, but ho is happy in the 
 society of old friends, for Calick is still his daily assistant upon
 
 COXE CUT CORNERS. 455 
 
 the fenn ; and Aunt Provy, too, does not hesitate to return 
 sometimes in person the calls which the Captain often makes 
 upon her. And they do say but no, we will not elevate 
 the gossip of Cone Cut Corners to the dignity of a page in 
 history. 
 
 He lives alone upon the old place now, but he is happy in 
 himself. lie is upon the bright side of fifty, that is, the elder 
 side. He came over the brow of life last fall ; and it is this 
 side which is the bright side to him. His hair is gray, his 
 form perhaps a little bent, his step not quite strong, his hand 
 sometimes trembles. But in renewed strength of mind and 
 moral purpose, he feels a flush and glow almost like that of 
 youth. The freedom in which he rejoices now, is the freedom 
 from temptation, from sin, from shame, and from remorse. 
 
 He lives alone upon the old place now, as some would esti- 
 mate loneliness, but there is a Presence in his home which 
 brings more happiness to his heart, and more society to his 
 fireside, than all the companionships of his days of mistaken 
 liberty.* When, or how this Presence came, he scarcely 
 knows, whether in answer to Salanda's prayers, or whether it 
 would have been his, even unasked, flowing from the abundant 
 mercy of God, he scarcely knows, but it is in his heart, he 
 knows, and it is there forever. And Salanda knows it too, 
 and rejoices in it, and trusts in it for her father's safety, more 
 than in all else, for she knows that while that Presence reigns 
 in his heart, neither laws, nor repeal of laws, nor suasions, nor 
 persuasions, nor temptations, nor overthrow of temptations, 
 nor loneliness, nor companionship, nor life, nor death, shall 
 be able to shake his firm purpose, or separate him from the 
 safety of God's people.
 
 456 CONE CUT CORKERS. 
 
 One shade only rests upon his happiness. It is the shade 
 that rests upon his name. For his story is well known now, 
 and there are not wanting efforts to restore to him the name 
 of his youth, nor does he fail to hear himself accosted with 
 
 hesitation and stammering as Mr. May Chesslebury. Ho 
 
 has no wish however, to regain the surname now so long dis- 
 used, but he leaves friends at Cone Cut to choose for them- 
 selves between the two. With most of them as with us, he 
 retains his long familiar name. It was his mother's name, it 
 is his middle name, and he is not displeased to hear it still. 
 
 But as at evening he leans against the churchyard-gate, and 
 sees the white gravestone with the simple inscription, 
 "Mother," glistening through the foliage in the light of the 
 setting sun, amid a hundred comrades, bearing each the 
 name of some departed one, and as he feels afresh that the 
 time must soon come when a place will be there made for him 
 also, the sharp thought pricks him that he leaves no certain 
 name to be engraved above his head. And he wonders what 
 they would do about it, and whether they would cut upon his 
 tombstone, " Mayferrie," or " Chesslebury," or whether they 
 would leave it blank in their uncertainty. 
 
 And the yellow sunlight gushes out upon the white grave- 
 stone with the simple inscription, and shows him a new light 
 and a sudden answer there. And he turns away, and says : 
 
 " I can trust that to Salanda. She will tell them what to 
 
 "FATHER."