"Gentlemen, three days since I received a call from my friend Buxton. He appeared melancholy and dejected, which surprised me; but what surprised me more, in respect to his present appearance, was the manifest disarrangement of his collar. It did not stand up on one side with the majestic erectness which characterized it on the other. On the left it was hanging down flabbily; its self-sustaining power was departed.
"I saw, by his countenance, that something important to him had occurred, and the appearance of his collar only tended to confirm my suspicions. I accordingly asked him what was the trouble.
"'Trouble,' said he, 'enough of it. Sir,' he continued, 'last night I was locked up in a cell at the station-house, for exercising the privileges of a freeman—a native American citizen. I was arrested, and violently dragged off to that cell, where I remained last night, and this morning was tried before the magistrate, only, however, to be acquitted. What made it worse was, that I should be arrested with a nigger, and be tried with a nigger, and acquitted with a nigger. He was a huge nigger—a colossal nigger—a nigger fully six feet and four inches in height; his face betrayed no evidence of light—it was all shade; he was a nigger, above all others, so black, that he would make an excellent drum-major to a funeral procession, if custom sanctioned the employment of that non-commissioned official on such occasions. Inasmuch, however, as custom doesn't do any such thing, the next best use to which the sable giant could be put, would be to make his face the figurehead of a Broadway mourning store; with the exception of his large size and remarkable black face, the nigger in question looked very much like other niggers not in question. He was a nigger, in fact, who gave as his name the half-classic and half-descriptive appellation of Cesar Freeman. I have always been a "woolly-head" until now, but may I be bursted if I don't go and join the Know Nothings to-morrow, and begin a crusade against all niggers—particularly nigger-giants and nigger women.
"'How did this occur?' I inquired, anxiously.
"'I'll tell you,' said he. 'But before doing so however, I desire to state a fact. We have all our human weaknesses; indeed, it may be set down as a truism that human beings do have human weaknesses to a greater or less extent; I am a human being; I have my human weakness, and that weakness is my collars; it required years of experiment to bring my collars to their present perfection; nearly all of the quarrels I ever had have been with laundresses who have failed to do them up to my liking; if a man wishes to ruffle my temper he need only to ruffle my collar, and it is accomplished; tell me the Savings Bank, where I deposit my extra money, has collapsed in the region of the money-vault; tell me that I have got to attend a charity ball; give me the jumping toothache; place me in a Bowery stage with fourteen inside, and I in juxtaposition to a dirty woman with a squalling baby who has got the seven years' itch—all of these I can bear, but when it comes to interfere with my collars it is going a point too far. Now I come to the time when unforeseen circumstances brought me in violent collision with this nigger of African extraction; I was walking down the street, near where the belligerent demonstration took place, when I saw directly in front of me a long-tailed man in an amiable-appearing coat—no—an amiable-appearing coat in a long-tailed—no—I mean an amiable-appearing man in a long-tailed coat. For my life I could not conceive why that amiable individual's proclivities in matters of apparel should lead him to wear a garment of so ridiculous a cut. I had just come to the sage conclusion that it was because every donkey in the country chooses to have his hips appear high or low to suit the caprice of Broadway tailors, when at that moment the amiable person, together with his long-tailed coat, was driven from my mind. I became suddenly conscious that an important event had transpired. An elderly female nigger, in throwing water on a store-window which she was cleaning, did not confine her professional favors exclusively to the window for which she had been hired, but she disbursed copious supplies of Croton upon the passers-by, for which she had not been hired. In fact, I am bold to assert, that several persons were favored with several gratuitous duckings by this colored female. I was one of those persons; a bountiful current of water interrupted the current of my thoughts; like a juvenile Niagara, it dashed against my collar in the left side, as you can see. Now, my collar is impervious to perspiration, but it could not stand up under the soaking of a cataract; as my collar fell my choler rose; I looked around at the sable author of my troubles, and I saw on her face an exultant grin at what she had done. I felt as if I would like to have crammed a wet broom which she had in her hand down her throat, splint end downwards; for obvious reasons I did not do this; but I did speak to her in language expressive of my emphatic disapprobation of the unasked-for and informal baptism with which she had been pleased to favor me; I suppose my words must have frightened her; at any rate she fell off from a stool on which she was elevated; she gave a scream; this black Hercules came down the stairs; she informed him that I had insulted her; he looked at me with his teeth grinning as if he would like to have eaten me without gravy or condiment; he gave one diabolical grin, and then came at me. I am not pugnacious; a lamb-like inoffensiveness has ever been my prominent characteristic; I have a constitutional repugnance to a fight, either with weapons natural or artificial; if loaded fire-arms are around I never feel so safe as when I see the butt-ends pointed at my vital parts; though not a member of the Peace Society, yet that society has ever had in me an ardent sympathizer; peaceful though I be, yet, when the sleeping lion within me is aroused, I know no bounds to my rage, and I insist upon going about, seeking whom I may devour; I saw the belligerent attitude of my enemy; he struck me; we grappled; an insatiable desire to taste the flesh of a colored man at that instant seized upon me; in a moment the digits of his right hand were between my teeth; I know that for a moment or two hostilities were active; I became conscious, too, that hostilities ceased; I soon learned the cause; the cause was the arrival of two policemen, who are always around when they shouldn't be, and never when they should. I was brought to the station-house.'
"'Well, what took place before the court?' I asked.
"'At seven this morning,' said Buxton, 'we were brought before the judge, and put in a pen; on one side of me was the aforesaid nigger, and on the other side a disgusting piece of feminine humanity; an importation from Ireland, who had just come off from a bender. Our names were finally called, the nigger's first, by all that's holy. Two officers who arrested us were the witnesses; they testified that on last evening, about dusk, they were engaged in conversation on the corner of a street which forms the boundary line between their respective beats, when they saw a crowd collected on the sidewalk, about a square above; they ran there, and they saw me and the nigger engaged in a fight; they said that the nigger was striking me violently with his left fist; his right hand was between my teeth, while I was kicking and striking the nigger very generally and promiscuously, and a nigger woman who was present was laying the blows on me with a broom whenever she could; at that moment they arrested me and the nigger; it required all their strength to secure us, such was the violence of our efforts to get away; hence they were unable to take the woman into custody.
"'The judge showed the cussed bad taste to ask the nigger to make his statement first. The nigger said that I had insulted his wife, and had made improper proposals to her; that made me wrathy; I told him that he was guilty of uttering a falsehood before the court; emphatically pronounced his assertion relative to my making an insulting proposal to that feminine lump of animated charcoal, with whom he very properly cohabited, to be an unequivocal lie; I am no controversalist, and still less would I descend from my exalted height to engage in a controversy with that herculean African, especially after enduring the perspiration, which, despite my frantic efforts to the contrary, I was compelled to suffer during a hot night, in a cell where any respectable thermometer, if it could be induced to go into the cell once, if it was anything at all, would be a hundred at least; yes, sir,' he continued, 'and should you ever have a morbid desire to enter into controversy, recline your heated form of a hot night in the cell which I occupied, and by morning you will insist upon retiring into some secluded spot, from which secluded spot you can look dispassionately and unmoved upon the moral strifes of the world.
"'Well, the up-shot of the matter was that both of us were discharged.'
"I gave Mr. Buxton what consolation I could, after which he took his departure to put on a new collar."
When Mr. Spout had concluded his narration, he proceeded to awaken such of the members of the club as were still present, telling them that it was time to go home. But he did not succeed in fully arousing them to an appreciation of the lateness of the hour, until he had put ice into their boot-legs and shirt-bosoms.
Now doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour
And gather honey all the day
From every opening—
TOWARDSfight nine o'clock one evening, the members of the club had casually convened in the club-room, although no notice had been given that they were to assemble on that occasion. The only absentee was Johnny Cake, but this created no surprise, as the wonder was, not why any member was absent, but why so many were present.
An hour was passed in discussing the current events of the day, when some member suggested, that if anybody had anything to offer, either amusing or instructive, an excellent opportunity was now afforded.
It so happened that Mr. Remington Dropper had in his pocket a quantity of foolscap, on which he had written a statement of certain experience, with which he had been favored on the previous day.
A general wish was expressed that Mr. Dropper might make himself useful in the exigency. He consented, and after the members had lighted their pipes, the barkeeper had been signalized for eight whisky-punches, and the Higholdboy had seated himself in his chair, the meeting was declared to be duly organized.
Mr. Dropper commenced:
"Yesterday," said he, "I had the pleasure of seeing our favorite quadruped as he appeared on Broadway, from an omnibus, whilst on a voyage from the South Ferry to Union Square. At half-past two o'clock I went over the ferry to Hamilton Avenue, Brooklyn. Having transacted my business, set out on my return, jumped aboard the ferry-boat and was soon on the New York side; stepped outside the gate, when I was beset by two dozen different omnibus agents, and as many different drivers. 'Here y'ar, right up Broadway.' 'Wide awake, 'ere Bower' un' Gran' street.' 'Right up Broadway, Sixth Avenue.' 'Here's Broad'ay, Bleeck' street, un' Eigh thavenue.' 'Here y'ar Bowery un' Ouston street.'
"'I want to go to Greenwich Avenue,' said a timid old gentleman.
"'Here y'ar,' said the agent, as he took the old gentleman by the seat of his pantaloons, and threw him head first into an East Broadway stage.
"The old gentleman, as soon as he could recover from his astonishment, looked out of the window at the agent.
"'Sir,' said he, 'does this stage carry me to Greenwich Avenue?'
"'Certing,' was the prompt reply, 'you'll get there, never fear. Here's Eas' Broadway un' Dry Dock.'
"'Where do you want to go madam?' asked the Ninth Avenue stage-agent of a lady accompanied by a little boy.
"'To the Crystal Palace,' said the lady.
"'Here y'ar then,' said he, as he placed her in the stage which probably stopped fully three quarters of a mile from the place.
"At last, all the persons desiring to ride had secured seats in stages, but whether the stages they desired is quite doubtful. I jumped in a Broadway and Fourteenth street stage, the agent gave the door two slams, and off we started. The passengers were an old maid with a poodle dog, a young miss who had just put on a long dress, a German, an old buffer who occupied space for two, and myself. Suddenly we stopped in Whitehall street, on our larboard side we find ourselves caught against a Sixth Avenue stage coming down, and our starboard quarter caught against the hubs of a cart. Carman apologetic—Sixth Avenue stage-driver affable. Passengers frightened. Maiden lady with poodle dog exclaimed, 'Oh, dear me!' Poodle dog barked. Fat gentleman thought that stage-drivers now-a-days were growing too careless. Got under way. Sighted Bowling Green off our port bow. Female from Ireland with native infant hailed the vehicle. Driver stopped. Female from Ireland tumbled up the steps. Driver slammed the door, which struck the female from Ireland a severe blow in the rear. Result, female from Ireland lying prostrate on the floor, and native infant lying around loose on the person of the old maid, in the particular premises claimed by the poodle dog. Poodle dog barked and snapped at native infant; native infant cried. Old maid scolds female from Ireland. Female from Ireland takes up native infant, and anathematizes poodle dog. Fat gentleman suggests that it's all the result of the recklessness of the driver. Old lady and female from Ireland pacified. German female, with a basket of dirty clothes, seeks admittance. Driver accommodating. Enter German female, and exit myself. Take my position on top with the driver. Band of music heard in the direction of Wall street. Target company turn into Broadway. Inebriated negro carrying a target, on which is inscribed, 'Michael Flinn Guard, Capt. Pat. Sweeny.' Horse attached to a buggy coming down Broadway, unused to military demonstrations—unaccustomed to the noises of sixteen German gentlemen, making frantic efforts to blow their brains out through brass horns. Horse rears and plunges into the rank and file of the Michael Flinn Guard. Consternation of the infantry at an unexpected attack from the cavalry. Cavalry triumphant. Michael Flinn Guard commence throwing stones at individual in the buggy. Individual drives off. Plethoric German scrapes himself up, and finds the starch entirely taken out of his ophicleide. German with light moustache has lost the mouth-piece of his E flat saxe horn; Michael Flinn Guards endeavoring to find their arms. Irish corporal unable to discover his bayonet. First lieutenant finds his sword run through the tenor drum. Ambitious private finds the pewter cake-basket he won as a prize, with the butt end of a musket through it. Guns in several instances in fragments; swords broken; brass horns disjointed, and, as a consequence, music non est. By general consent, Michael Flinn Guards break ranks and disperse. Lady with hoop skirts hails the driver. Driver again obliging. Enter hoop skirts. Gentleman with a baby-wagon hails driver. 'Whoa-'p.' Astonishing driver. Gentleman lifts up the baby-wagon on the top. Driver receives it, and gently smashes it in pieces. Gentleman gets inside. Dropsical individual on the starboard quarter hails us. The gentleman enters, and again we are under way. Teutonic target company turn into Broadway from Courtlandt street—'The Lager Bier Invincibles, Capt Conrad Künzmüller.' Suddenly find ourselves smashed up amid a perfect labyrinth of carts, stages, buggies, wagons, horses, mules, cotton bales, boxes, furniture, drivers, policemen, passengers, pedestrians, &c. A wagonload of dirt on our port side—wagon-driver unsophisticated; unused to driving in New York. In advance a cart having two bales of hay on board. Our horses, having nothing else to do, make efforts to get at the hay. Our driver again accommodating. He gets down and unchecks the horses. Horses proceed to make inroads upon property not belonging to the omnibus company. Carman discovers the larceny. Indignant carman. Hits our horses over the head with the butt end of his whip. Reciprocal indignation. Our driver gives carman a cut across his proboscis with a long lash.
"Our progress continues.
"Fat gentleman impatient. Reasserts his previously-expressed conviction, that the stage is an imposition: says he'll get out. Driver insists on payment. Fat gentleman passes up a quarter. Driver passes him back a ten-cent piece and eight cents. Fat gentleman insists that he is swindled to the extent of one cent, which he demands. Driver very gentleman obliging, and 'don't he wish he may get it.' Fat gentleman gets out, but finds himself completely surrounded by vehicles, and without a possibility of being able to reach the curb-stone in safety, concludes to enter the stage again. Driver refuses to open the door. Fat gentleman demands to be admitted. Driver says he'll see him blowed first. Fat gentleman frantic, but driver incorrigible. At last fat gentleman gets on his hands and knees, and, after crawling under a team of horses and the tails of two carts, reaches the sidewalk. Again moving. Irish female with native infant pulls the strap. Driver accommodating. Female inquires if this is a Bowery stage. Driver says no. Female insists upon getting out. Driver insists, with equal warmth, that, as a prior condition, she must disgorge a sixpence. Female indisposed to comply. Old maid with the poodle dog gives the strap three convulsive jerks. 'Whoa-'p.' Old maid says that native infant, belonging to female from Ireland, has the ship fever. Female from Ireland indignantly denies the statement, and says that it is only the itch. Old maid swoons. Poodle dog barks at all the passengers generally, and the female from Ireland particularly. Dropsical gentleman puts some smelling-salts under the nose of old maid. Happy result. Old maid revives, and asks if anybody beside herself was injured by the explosion. Sight Fulton street off our starboard bow. Enter Fifth Avenue and Amity street stages, R. 1st Entrance. Exit Irish porter with a load of band-boxes, L. 1st Entrance, in time to save his bacon and band-boxes. New feature coming up Fulton street from the East River—'The Sour Krout Guards, Captain Wilhelm Stein,' in return from target excursion. Still another feature coming up Fulton street from North River—'The Patrick Gaffney Grenadiers, Captain Timothy Leahey,' on a return from target excursion. Two companies approach one another. Menacing looks on the part of the Sour Krout Guards. Bellicose attitude of the Gaffney Grenadiers. Belligerent manifestation of the Sour Krouts; corporal of the Gaffneys throws a brick at the Sour Krouts. Sour Krouts boiling over with indignation, make a demonstration. Both companies unused to the management of firelocks, but accustomed to war and carnage. They lay down their arms and take up their fists. General, promiscuous, and miscellaneous shoulder-hitting by the strength of both companies. Enter third party. Mad bull rushes down Broadway and pitches into the hottest of the fight, with horns down and tail up. Sour Krouts and Gaffneys in consternation fly from the scene of the struggle in all directions. Mad bull makes a descent into a mock auction shop. Stool pigeons and auctioneer all knocked down without a bidder. Sudden fall in pinchbeck watches. Bull stands for a moment in a contemplative mood over the devastation, and then walks away with a dignified air. Barnum's in sight. Lady and three children get inside. Female from Ireland with native infant concludes to pay the sixpence and get out. Astor House in the usual place. Barclay street in the distance. By way of variety, a company turn into Broadway, 'The Tugmutton Terribles, Captain Frightful Buster,' in a return from a target excursion at Hoboken. The captain elevated, lieutenants inebriated, privates intoxicated, the nigger target-bearer drunk—effect of having eaten too many ham sandwiches. Stage again immobile. Two Hoosiers get inside, and ask the driver to stop at the St. Nicholas Tavern. Funeral procession coming down Broadway. Forty-nine carriages. Learned that the remains of Dennis Hooligan, the keeper of a corner grocery in Hammersley street, were being conveyed to their last resting-place. Just as the hearse reaches Anthony street a ponderous cart crosses Broadway. Wheels fifteen feet in diameter. Steamboat boiler suspended under the axletree. Majestic vehicle fetches up all standing against a cart loaded with flour. Fall in breadstuffs. Prodigal distribution of flour. Hearse and funeral procession in close proximity.
"Vehicles accumulate. Great commotion among drivers. Procession mixed up in an indiscriminate verbal war. At last hearse manages to go down towards the Five Points. The procession succeeds in getting out by turning in the other direction, except the rear portion, which, to my knowledge, never got out. Once more under way, and making good time. Man with a gold-headed cane stops the stage, and passes up a five-cent piece. Driver swears, and advises him to ride in the cars hereafter. Driver suggests that he is full ten minutes behind time, and is bound to make it up. Lays on the lash, much to the surprise of the animals. Driver pulls up in front of the St. Nicholas Hotel, and announces the spot through the money-hole. Nobody essays to pass up any fare. Driver repeats the announcement. Nobody moves. Driver inquires, impatiently, if there ain't 'two fellers inside wot wanted to git out at the St. Nicholas Hotel.' Still no reply. Again the inquiry. One of the Hoosiers said he asked him to 'stop at the St. Nicholas tarvern, 'cause why, 'cause he wanted to see it. He'd seen it enough; it was a purty nice tarvern, he reckoned, and he might drive on.' Driver gave the horses an extra cut, and we move again. Asthmatic party pulls the strap. After feeling in all of his pockets for two minutes, informs the driver that he left his porte-monnaie in his other pantaloons. Driver says the story won't go down—that the game is too old. Party tries to make his exit, but the door won't open, the driver holding hard on the strap. Asthmatic party threatens to horsewhip driver. Driver says, 'any time when conwenyent he hoped he'll make the trial.' Driver about to start, when asthmatic party pulls out his jack-knife and cuts the strap. Asthmatic party triumphs. Driver, frantic with rage, throws an apple at asthmatic party, and hits asthmatic party on his knowledge-box. Asthmatic party falls, and upsets an apple-stand. Celtic female, the proprietor of the apple-stand, hits asthmatic party with a brick. Both parties close in, and fight amid the ruins of the apple-stand. Driver starts the horses, but looks around to watch the fight. Horses sheer off to the starboard, and the hub of the hind wheel breaks down a lamp-post. Driver observes policeman approaching at a rapid speed. No time to survey the ruins, so he applies the lash, and we move away from the scene of the mishap at a speed ominous of swift destruction to horse-shoes and wagon-tires. Female, with three children, calls out to stop, and passes up a three-dollar bill. Driver inquires if she hasn't got any change. Female gives a negative response. Driver gives change in small pieces, retaining as fare the moderate sum of seventy-five cents for a woman and three children. Woman attempts to count the change. Driver sings out to 'Hurry up—behind time—can't wait all day.' Female bewildered, leaves with her children, and driver whips up the horses, remarking that he 'guesses she'll learn, after a while, not to pass up bills for stage-fare.' Soon reach Union Square. Tell the driver I'll get off. Offer him a sixpence. Driver says, 'he'll not take a cent; that if there ever was a nout-'n'-outer, I'm one, and he hopes that it won't be the last time we'll meet; and if he only had time, he wouldn't let me off without treatin' me.' I thanked him for his good opinion, shook hands, and jumped off the box.
"Thus, gentlemen," concluded Mr. Dropper, "ends the history of my voyage on an omnibus."
Mr. Quackenbush arose, and stated that he regarded Mr. Dropper's paper as a valuable addition to the historical writings of the country. He therefore moved that a gold medal be prepared by a committee of the club, of which the Higholdboy should not be an ex-officio member, for presentation to Mr. Dropper. Mr. Dropper to pay the whole expense of procuring the same, and to stand a champagne supper for the honor conferred on him.
The motion was carried with only one dissenting voice—that of Mr. Dropper, who said he didn't want any such expensive and equivocal honors.
The presiding officer informed Mr. Dropper that he was fined three cents for contempt of club.
Over an hour was now passed in a state of inactivity. Some of the members slept and some didn't. As a means of inducing excitement of some kind, a member signalized the institution on the first floor for pork and beans for the entire crowd. This was promptly answered, and for a time the club had enough to engage its attention. After the aforesaid luxuries had been duly disposed of, the members proceeded to take seats, lie on the floor, prop themselves against the wall, and hang themselves up on a peg, as best suited their independent fancies. The presiding officer announced that the rules on this occasion would be enforced strictly. Accordingly, each individual present began to do exactly what pleased him, without any regard to the comfort, convenience, or personal predilections of anybody else. The Higholdboy first secured the left higholdboy boot of every member present. After pulling a boot on each leg of the table, he put one on each of his hands, like a gauntlet, and then laid the seventh on the table. The object of Mr. Spout, in pursuing this eccentric course of conduct, soon became apparent, when he laid himself on the table, using the aforesaid solitary boot as a pillow, it being manifest that he desired to preclude the possibility of an adjournment during the nap, and inasmuch as it would be found inconvenient for the members to leave the premises with but a single pedal covering, and as it would be impossible for a member to secure the other, without awakening the most venerable and exceedingly somnolent Higholdboy, it will be apparent to the credulous reader that Mr. Spout's idea was quite ingenious.
Under these circumstances, each member determined to make himself as comfortable as the time, the place, and the conveniences would admit of.
Mr. Boggs was lying flat on his back, trying to drink a hot whisky-punch without breaking the tumbler, spilling the liquor, or getting the sugar inside his whiskers. Mr. Overdale was learning "juggling without a master," and was endeavoring to spin plates on his whalebone cane. In striving to acquire this elegant accomplishment, he had broken all the dishes in the premises. As he varied his plate-spinning endeavors with repeated trials at tossing the cups and balls, for which purpose he used the tumblers and coffee-cups, and as, whenever he caught one cup, he dropped two, and stepped on the fragments, the work of demolition went bravely on.
Mr. Van Dam amused himself by blacking the faces of all the pictures in the room with charcoal. Dennis employed himself for an hour and a half in whittling off with a jack-knife one leg of every chair in the apartment, so as to make it four inches shorter than the rest. Wagstaff collected all the books he could find, and piled them into a shaky pyramid, which he was preparing to push over with a broomstick upon the head of the unconscious Higholdboy.
Quackenbush had not been idle; taking advantage of the drowsiness of his superior officer, he had sewed the bottoms of that gentleman's pantaloons together with a waxed end, after which he made a moustache on himself with burned cork, and then painted the left side of his face in three-cornered patches like a sleepy harlequin, dyed his shirt-collar scarlet with red ink, and went to sleep in the corner to await the result, having first tripped up Mr. Overdale, who, by way of a new variation in his juggling performances, was now trying to balance the poker on his nose, while he held a rocking-chair in one hand and a hat-box full of oyster shells in the other. Dropper had a checker-board before him, and was superintending a game between his right and left hand.
But suddenly, those of the Elephants who were in their waking senses, became sensible of a noise outside. It begun at the foot of the stairs, like the sound of a regiment of crazy Boston watchmen, all springing their rattles at once. The noise became louder, and seemed to be coming up the stairs, and now rivalled in sound a mail-train on a race. Now the uproar became more distinct, and evidently proceeded from some person or persons outside, who were provided with some ingenious facilities for kicking up a row, with which ordinary roisterers are unacquainted. These persons now began a furious attack upon the "outer walls." Mr. Overdale paused in his plate-breaking occupation, long enough to pour out a few emphatic sentences, addressed to the individuals outside, in which he consigned them to a locality too hot for a powder-mill, and then resumed his practice.
As the door began to shake, Overdale laid down the poker, smashed what few large pieces of plates were left over the head of the recumbent Quackenbush, awoke the Higholdboy by rolling him off the table, aroused the rest of the party by a few kicks in the ribs, and then, undoing the fastenings of the door, was proceeding to expostulate with the disturbers. No sooner, however, had he opened the door, than a rush was made by the invaders, and Mr. Dropper upset by the besieging party. Mr. Dropper fell upon the stomach of the half-awakened Quackenbush, they both pitched into Mr. Boggs, and then all three rolled over the Higholdboy. This last-named personage, having the bottoms of his pantaloons sewed together, could not arise until the friendly jack-knife unfettered his lengthy legs. All parties being restored to the perpendicular, an immediate inquiry was made into the cause of the disturbance.
Then it was discovered that the person who had kicked up this diabolical bobbery was no less a personage than the heretofore discreet and temperate Johnny Cake, aided and abetted by an individual unknown to the rest of the company, but whose appearance bespoke him to be one of the boys, who, although not an "Elephant," presented at first sight distinguished claims to be honored with that enviable distinction.
Yes, Johnny Cake, the man who would never be persuaded to taste a glass of liquor of any kind, who had always endeavored to keep his companions from spirituous imbibition; the virtuous cold-waterite, whom the sight of a glass of brandy would give a cold chill, a whisky-punch throw into spasms, or a mug of "lager" give a teetotal convulsion, stood now before the astounded Elephantine brotherhood drunk, plainly, undeniably, unequivocally drunk.
He had a black eye, and a swelled nose. His coat was on hind side before, and buttoned between his shoulders, while his pantaloons were entirely bereft of buttons, and were secured from parting company only by two pieces of telegraph-wire which, with commendable ingenuity, he had converted into extemporaneous metallic suspenders. His companion was in a singular state of derangement as to his personal attire, having no coat at all, and a red shirt over his nether continuations.
As soon as the first expression of surprise was over, the Higholdboy, comprehending that something unusual had taken place, ordered the company to be seated. In obedience to this peremptory order from the most noble officer of the club, the Elephantines each took a seat, but as the inglorious young man before-mentioned had made the chairs exceedingly treacherous and insecure, by cutting off one leg of each, the immediate consequence of the attempt was another general sprawlification upon the floor, executed in a masterly manner by the entire strength of the company. After five minutes of vigorous polyglot profanity had somewhat relieved the feelings of the fallen Elephantines, and they had recovered their feet, they contrived to sit down; the chairs were as treacherous as ever, but being forewarned, the members were forearmed, and by dint of many exertions, contrived to maintain their seats with a tolerable show of dignity.
Johnny Cake was too far gone to make any intelligible replies, or give any account of himself, and it was resolved to postpone his examination until he should get sober. His companion, however, who seemed to be something in the theatrical way, gave his own story in his own peculiar manner, but refused to enlighten the anxious brotherhood about poor Johnny.
He possessed a facility of quotation equal to Richard Swiveller, Esq.'s, but he was as reckless about the exactitude of his extracts, and jumbled up his authorities with as much confusion as Captain Cuttle himself. He seldom gave a quotation right, but would break off in the middle and substitute some words of his own, or dovetail an irrelevant piece from some strange author, or mix up half-a dozen authors with interpolations of his own, in an inextricable verbal jumble.
The Higholdboy and the stranger held the following conversation:
"Peter Knight; am a native to the marrow-bone.—That's Shakspeare."
"Young man, strange young man, young man to me unknown; young man of the peculiar hat and ruby shirt, I fear to adapt my conversation to your evident situation; that you're drunk, emphatically drunk, I repeat it, drunk—drunk was my remark—D—Runk, drunk."
"It's true, 'tis pity; pity 'tis there isn't the devil a doubt of it.—That's Scott."
"Where did you get your liquor?"
"Where the bee sucks, there sucks Peter Knight all day. Thou base, inglorious slave, think'st thou I will reveal the noble name of him who gave me wine? No, sir-ee, Bob.—That's Beaumont and Fletcher."
"Ante up or leave the board; that is to say fire away, let us know, we won't tell. Although we never drink, we like to know where drink we might get, in case of cholera, or colic."
"I do remember an apothecary and here-abouts he dwells; no he don't, he lives over in the Bowery—but in his needy shop a cod-fish hangs, and on his shelves a beggarly account of empty bottles; noting this penury to myself, I said, if any man did need a brandy-punch, whose sale is fifty dollars fine in Gotham, here lives a caitiff wretch who has probably got plenty of it under the counter. Why should I here conceal my fault? Wine ho! I cried. The call was answered. I have no wine, said he, but plenty of whis—. Silence! thou pernicious caitiff, quoth I; thou invisible spirit of wine, since we can get thee by no other name, why let us call thee gin and sugar. He brought the juice of cursed juniper in a phial, and in the porches of my throat did pour Udolpho Wolfe's distilment. Thus was I by a Dutchman's hand at once dispatched—not drunk or sober—sent into the dirty streets three-quarters tight, with all my imperfections on my head. The fellow's name? My very soul rebels. But whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the cuffs and bruises of this bloody Dutchman or to take arms against his red-haired highness, and by informing end him? I go and it is done. Villain, here's at thy heart! His name, your Honor, is Bobblesnoffkin in the Bowery. That's Shakspeare mixed."
"Young man, whose shirt has escaped from all control, and now hangs loose, the posterior section of which has also sustained a serious, and, I fear, irremediable fracture, I have another question to propound; answer upon your life. Have you got a home?"
"My home is on the deep, deep sea.—That's Plutarch's Lives."
"How do you get your living?"
"Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt that I'll get a living while the oyster-sloops don't have but one watchman.—That's Billy S. again."
"Do you pay for your oysters?"
"Base is the slave that pays; the speed of thought is in my limbs.—That's Byron."
"Do you steal them and then run away?"
"I've told thee all, I'll tell no more, though short the story be; let me go back where I was before and I'll get my living without troubling the corporation. That's Tom Moore, altered to suit circumstances."
"You ought to dispense with the brandy and gin."
"Oh, I could be happy with either, were 'tother dear charmer bottled up and the cork put in.—That's Dibdin with a vengeance."
"Young man, I fear you've led our young friend, whom you now see asleep amongst the broken crockery, from the paths of sobriety. What do you suppose will become of you if you go on in this way?"
"Alas, poor Yorick!—Peter, I mean. Who knows where he will lay his bones? Few and short will the prayers be said, and nobody'll feel any sorrow: but they'll cram him into his clay-cold bed, and bury somebody else on the top of him to-morrow; the minister will come, put on his robe and read the service; the choir'll sing a hymn; earth to earth and dust to gravel, and that'll be the last of Peter Knight."
The Higholdboy consulting with those members of the club who were still awake, it was resolved forthwith to put Peter Knight down stairs. As he went he remarked:
"Fare thee well, and if for ever, all the better.—That's Byron, revised and corrected."
Johnny Cake was manifestly too far gone to think of taking him to a hotel to sleep, and under these circumstances the club resolved itself into a committee of the whole, to remain in sleepy session all night, to take care of their prostrate fellow-member, Mr. Johnny Cake.
Wright.
IN the last chapter of this veritable history is related the unexpected and unusually thorough inebriation of Mr. John I. Cake, from Johnny the verdant prairies of Illinois. The alcoholically-saturated condition of Johnny's corporosity, on the occasion herein-before-mentioned, surprised the thirsty brotherhood far more than would a similar state of facts in which any other one of the fraternity should have been implicated, because as Johnny had always perched himself upon the aqueous pinnacle of misanthropic teetotalism, it was not reasonable to suppose that he should, by one single dive, precipitate himself at once to the lowest depth of inebriation—for his profession's sake, he should have come down easier.
As his new-made friends had taken his moral culture under their especial guardianship, he was duly required, the next evening, to give, for the instruction and edification of the club, a full account of his night's experience.
Having first premised that he only complied with this desire in obedience to that imperative rule of the club, to which he had solemnly, affixed his name, which, in the most awful language, pledges every member who takes that terrible obligation to do exactly as he pleases, unless his own pleasure shall influence him otherwise, or unless, upon mature consideration, he shall decide that he had rather do something else, he proceeded to enlighten the anxious Elephantine expectants.
"When I left you yesterday," said he, "I had no more idea that I should so far overstep the bounds of my customary propriety, and make my next appearance before you in a state of alcoholic disguise, than I have at this present moment that the setting sun will see me under arrest for picking somebody's pocket of a steam saw-mill. Strolling about yesterday for some time, I became tired of the monotonous hurry of Broadway, and eventually strayed into that delightful rural locality which you call, I think, the Bowery.
"On the corner of this avenue of the rustic cognomen and Broome street, there is a place of refreshment for the weary. I entered its open doors, and sat down in a little three-sided closet, determined to procure the wherewithal to refresh the inner individual. Obedient to my upraised finger, a person came. This person had on a small white apron; this person also flourished in his dexter-digits a napkin of questionable purity; this person wore slippers, and had a voice like an asthmatic bull-frog; this person was a city waiter—a male waiter—a degeneration of the genus homo, which I sincerely hope will, at no very distant day, become utterly extinct. He procured for me the viands which my capricious taste selected from the suggestive printed list of edibles there to be obtained. While engaged in consigning to a living grave the bivalves he had brought, I had a fair opportunity to observe some, to me, remarkable gymnastics then in course of accomplishment by an active young man who presided at the bar, and held dominion over the bottles. First pouring into a tumbler some liquid, to me unknown, diluting it with water, adding ice, sugar, lemon, and other ingredients with which I am unacquainted, he proceeded to throw the compound about in the most unheard-of manner, from one tumbler to another, over his head, under his leg, round his neck, over one arm and under the other, without ever spilling a drop. First uplifting one hand high in air, he poured the mixture in a sparkling cascade from the glass in the right hand, to that in the left; then he threw it in a sparkling shower in the air, till the lumps of ice rattled on the ceiling; then he dispersed it in a misty spray about his head and recovered it all in his magic glass, by some diabolic dexterity, without losing the fraction of a drop; then, in one grand, final effort, he tossed it round the beer-pump, down one side, and up the other, and over the chandelier, changing a two-dollar bill while it was in the air, and giving his customer his drink with one hand, and with the other his silver change, intermixed with twenty per cent. of pewter dimes, which the thirsty buyer invariably pocketed before he could recover from his astonishment.
"I finished my dinner, and was anxious to see the little man perform again. I approached the little man, and desired him to concoct me a lemonade. He inquired if I wanted a 'fly' in it. As the flying part was what I most desired, I answered yes. The little man went through the motions. I sent the lemonade to its destination, noticing at the time something remarkably nectarean in the taste. As I supposed the evolutions which it had accomplished in mid-air had imparted to it an unusual flavor, and as I wanted to see the performance again, I immediately subscribed for one more of the same sort. Again the question about the fly—again an affirmative, with a remark that the bigger the fly, the better I should be pleased, supposing that thereby he would, for my satisfaction, make it fly through some new motions. I am satisfied that this time the fly was larger than on the former occasion. I was still unsatisfied; another subscription, and another lemonade, but this time the entomological interrogation was not propounded—he took the fly for granted, and he was right. About this time the person who came home with me last night made his appearance. I shook hands with him at once, for I thought I recognized him. I imagined that he was a man who, seven years ago, licked me with a rawhide for stealing his pippins and setting fire to his sugar-bush, and I was anxious to shake hands for old acquaintance sake. I beg now, however, to state that I am satisfied this impression was erroneous, for I have this morning a distinct recollection that the individual of pomological memory removed to Kansas, where he was first lynched for stealing a horse, and afterward chosen county treasurer and inspector of election. However, be that as it may, certain it is, that, at that particular moment, thinking I had fallen in with an old friend, I invited him to drink with me. He accepted, and presently he proposed punch, and made a remark about cobbler. Punch I had heard mentioned as the prince of good fellows, and I was anxious to make his acquaintance. Cobbler I had only heard of as a man of lapstones and leather aprons, and I did not particularly desire to know him. On receiving an introduction to Punch, I was amazed to find that he was not an individual but a drink—a luscious combination of fragrant ingredients. Although I was mistaken in the identity, I was pleased with him, and it may not be superfluous to remark that the more I saw of him, the more I wanted to see, and the more I did see. About this time I had two friends; there were two active little men behind the bar, each throwing from double-barrelled tumblers two streams of lemonade over his head, each with two flies in. There were two beer-pumps, each with two dozen handles, and the number of bottles and decanters was beyond computation. The floor rose up and down in wooden billows, and knocked my hat off. I attempted to remonstrate with floor, but at this juncture the floor clinched me; we had a long wrestle, and finally went down—floor on top. By a convulsive exertion I 'turned' the floor, got it under, and stood on it to keep it down; had some compunctions about striking a fallen enemy, but passion got the better of me, and I tried to kick the floor; floor kicked back, and threw sand-dust in my eyes; got away; wanted to get out doors, but the room had changed about so, that the door was over my head, and the bar, with the active little men, was nearly under my feet; was afraid I should walk over the little men, and break the bottles; stepped very carefully so as to avoid any such accident, and put my foot in the stove. Peter rescued me from the devouring element, and got me out of doors.
"Peter said he would see me home, and asked me where I lived; told him I was an elephant; made him understand that I could show him the place where I hung out, even if I couldn't tell him—so we started.
"We must have come through Chatham street, for I can remember seeing some one with a hammer, selling clothing. I know I wanted to go in and make some purchases. The ruling idea in my mind, at that moment, was, that the grey mare wanted a winter overcoat, the oxen a pair of striped pantaloons apiece, that the sow, and each of her tender offspring, ought to have a red jacket and a pair of spectacles, and that it was a matter of necessity and charity to purchase seven dozen hickory shirts to keep the blue jays away from the apple-trees. I went in, and commenced bidding. I know I was not particular about prices, and that any opposition provoked me exceedingly—so much so that I bid twenty-three dollars for a second-hand pocket-handkerchief, because, when the auctioneer started it at ten cents, and I offered fifteen, a hook-nosed Jew bid three cents over me. Auction over at last; man with the hammer wanted me to pay up—found that I had bought three quarters of his stock, and hadn't money enough to settle the bill. I know I gave him all I had, and also my coat and neckerchief to make up the balance. I also have a distinct recollection of calling him a Hebrew robber, upon which he knocked me in the eye with his hammer, and followed up this declaration of hostilities by splitting my nose with a yard-stick. We got out of doors, and proceeded down town. On the corner of Chambers street the Third Avenue Railroad squared off, and knocked me down. Peter held me steady, while I rebuked the offender in proper terms. The Third Avenue Railroad took off its hat and apologized. I forgave it.
"We went into a cellar; got in by a complicated dive. I sat down at first on the piano, next on a pile of oyster-shells, and, finally, by the aid of a huge pair of whiskers, with a little Dutchman behind them, deposited myself in a chair—on top of Peter. Peter got out after a prolonged struggle; place very hirsute; big beards on everybody; ten parts of hair to one part Dutchman. My vision may have been slightly deranged, but I am certain that one diminutive German had two pairs of whiskers—a moustache just over his eyes, and a four-foot yellow beard which sprung from his teeth. We drank lager bier.
"Peter quoted Shakspeare when the man said "pay up," and insisted on singing an English chorus to a Dutch song; company indignant, Peter very valiant, but too few in number. Peter fought, Peter kicked, Peter swore, Peter was overpowered, Peter was elevated in the arms of four stout Dutchmen above the heads of the company. Exit Peter, through the window. In leaving the room myself, I, too, received some uncalled-for aid, but finally rejoined Peter on the sidewalk above.
"I spied the mystic light which told me the Elephantine resort was close at hand—couldn't fetch it—asked M.P.—he said if we'd tell him the address he'd show us—tried to recollect it—couldn't exactly make it out, but said at a venture, corner of Maiden Lane and Canal street—officer indignant—we finally found the place, tried to come up still so as to surprise you, but I am willing to admit that attempt to be a partial failure; we reached the door at last; it wouldn't open—Peter called it Sebastopol, and proposed that we should storm it—we resolved ourselves into an attacking party of two, called to our aid a twelve-feet plank as a battering-ram, and by hard blows persuaded the door to yield—that broken panel is a forcible example of the power of moral suasion.
"When I remark that, judging from my present sensations, I should imagine a six-horse-power threshing-machine to be in the height of successful operation in my head, immediately over my eyes, there are perhaps some sympathizing persons in the room, who have experienced the same delicious sensation, and can therefore 'phancy my pheelinks.'"
The members of the club expressed themselves eminently satisfied with Mr. Cake's statement of his experience, and the Higholdboy requested that Mr. Cake should inscribe in the records the said experience, in order that it might not be lost to future generations. Mr. Cake promised to do so.
Mr. Spout, being seized with a fit of liberality, ordered punches for the company, and two of the same kind for Johnny Cake, which Johnny indignantly refused, saying that, if before his recent experience in wholesale dissipation, he had disliked alcoholic beverages, such were his feelings now, that the dislike amounted to an abhorrence. Mr. Spout said it was all right, as in such case he should drink them all himself.
Mr. Dropper remarked that some two or three years previously, when he first arrived from Cincinnati, and before he had became fully posted up in the various phases of unwhipped rascality in New York, he had, on one occasion, owing to his ignorance, got into the station-house.
A general sentiment as expressed was, that Mr. Dropper should state the history of the circumstance, or be immediately expelled from the club, and kicked down stairs, minus his coat, hat, and boots.
Mr. Dropper said that he found it impossible to resist the gentle persuasions of his companions.
"Fellow quadrupeds," said he, "soon after my arrival in this mass meeting of bricks and mortar, I read in a morning paper the announcement of an extraordinary gift enterprise, which some benevolent and philanthropic individual had set on foot, with the view of making everybody, in general, and himself, in particular, rich. I thought of the subject for several days. The idea of securing a farm of three hundred acres in New Jersey, all in first-rate condition, with houses, barns, and fences ready-made, at the moderate cost of a dollar, was rather agreeable than otherwise, and the more I reflected upon the matter, the more I became satisfied that such a bargain was a consummation most devoutly to be wished for. One night I went to bed thinking of the farm. Finally I fell asleep, and
'Sleeping I dreamed, love,
Dreamed love of'——
seeing six cats, each with two tails, and each tail eight feet long, and afterwards a seventh cat with a bob-tail. When I cats awoke in the morning, I attempted to interpret my dream, and I readily found a meaning. I put the figures together in the order above—that is to say, six cats, two tails, eight feet long, one cat bob-tail, which latter, I thought, was equivalent to a nought, and I had the following result: 62810. I concluded that this was the lucky number which was to get the farm. I posted off immediately to the office of the gift enterprise, and called for number 62810, and laid down my dollar. The dollar was accepted, and the ticket was handed me, done up in an envelope. I was confident of having the title deeds to the premises given me as soon as the drawing should take place, and as that event was set down for the next week, and there was no time to be lost, I contracted for thirty-two head of cattle, and all the necessary farming utensils, in order to be ready to commence a life of ease and luxury, at the earliest practicable moment, after the said real estate should come into my possession. I also advertised for two stout farm-hands, to assist me in following the prospective agricultural pursuits. I had some three hundred and sixty-eight answers. I finally engaged two athletic Irishmen, who were recommended by their late employer as being excellent farm-hands, and who, in addition, possessed this virtue, that, when drunk, they were satisfied to abuse one another, and never their employer.
"The day of the drawing at last came, and I went to the office to get my deed, for I never doubted a single instant that I had drawn the big prize. I entered the office, and told the clerk that I would take the documents.
"'What documents?' said he.
"'Why, my deed of the magnificent country mansion and farm in New Jersey, with three hundred acres of land, and a house with all the modern improvements.'
"Gentlemen, I have been, in the course of my life, kicked by a horse, knocked into a cocked hat by a threshing-machine, and had my hair singed off by chain-lightning, but neither one of these occurrences so astounded me as did that red-haired clerk, when he informed me that my ticket had drawn a gold pen, with a silver holder, and a place in the top to put pencil-leads in.
"Gentlemen, I was not furious, I was perfectly cool; but when I jumped over that counter, and laid hands on that red-haired clerk, I will admit that it was my calmly-settled intention to eat that red-haired clerk for luncheon, notwithstanding his cock-eye. A hasty glance at the mud on his boots, and the metal buttons on his coat-tails, caused me to alter my original amiable intention, and I made up my mind to be gentle with him, and merely whip him so his mother wouldn't be able to tell him from a Little Neck clam on a large scale, and then leave him to live through it if he could.
"I struck him once, and he laid down in a corner among some bottles, with his head in the gas-meter, and in one minute from that time he was one universal damage.
"The proprietor being done for, I proceeded to demolish the establishment; I didn't leave, of the chairs, tables, and desks, a piece big enough to make a bird-cage, and having turned on all the gas, I was seriously debating whether I should not set the whole shop on fire, and sue for the insurance, when the two Irishmen, whom I had engaged to work my farm, made their appearance. I told them to clear out, to budge, move on, leave, but they evidently took me for a swindler, and were bound to pay me off. They pitched into me; our amiable struggle to put each other's eyes out attracted a crowd; the muss became general; everybody went in, and before the policemen came there was considerable music. Nobody was bashful, and the result was four interesting cases of black eye, a pathetic instance of demolished nose, two lovely examples of swelled head, an agreeable specimen of peeled shin, seven illustrations of the beautifying power of finger-nails, when forcibly applied to the physiognomy, and three convincing exemplifications of the power of the Irish fist in extracting opposing teeth, without the aid of forceps or turnkey. The police came at last, and arrested the entire multitude. That night we slept in the station-house. I don't want to say anything against the bunks in that station-house, but this I do say, that if there ever is a bed-bug convention, and that station-house is not well represented, it won't be because any lack of population deprives them of the right to a strong delegation; and if, at any national mass meeting of fleas, they stand in need of ten or fifteen thousand to make up a quorum, the station-house of that ward can supply them, without any perceptible decrease of its entomological census.
"In the morning we were conducted before the Justice, but as there were about forty cases to be heard before mine, I had ample leisure to look about, and take a realizing sense of the beauties of my situation. The case of myself and others was at length reached. The officers swore to the muss, as if the numerous broken heads were not sufficient evidence that there had been a difference of opinion. One of the Irishmen became a volunteer liar in his own behalf, but the Justice recognized him as an old customer, often brought up for drunkenness, and knowing him to be a reliable liar, he placed his evidence all to my credit, and discharged me without even a fine, but with the assurance that if I came there again he would 'send me up.' Not wanting to make any such equivocal ascension as a matter of experiment, I have kept away from him, and cut up all my subsequent monkey-shines in another ward, which is out of his jurisdiction."
After Mr. Dropper closed, there was a brief silence, in which each member quietly smoked his pipe, apparently reflecting upon the morals of lotteries. At last Wagstaff inquired who won the farm.
"I forgot that," resumed Dropper. "I learned from an advertisement which appeared in the daily journals, that ticket number 6281 drew the farm. This number, you will observe, corresponds with the one I supposed would be the lucky one, except that in mine a nought was annexed to the four figures, making it 62810, instead of 6281. My mistake grew out of a misinterpretation of my dream, in respect to the bob-tailed cat, I having assumed that the diminutive nether extremity, in this instance, was equivalent to a nought expressed, whereas, if I had let it remain a nought understood, and had acted accordingly, I should have been the lucky man."
"Not so lucky as you imagine," remarked Quackenbush, "for the facts of that matter I am somewhat familiar with. A country fiddler, living up in Connecticut, held the ticket which entitled the holder to the real estate aforesaid. He saw the advertisement, and I being the only acquaintance he had in the city, he wrote to me to secure the deeds, as he couldn't raise the money to come down. I called at the office of the managers of the enterprise, and presented the ticket. They said it was all right; congratulated me on the luck of my friend, and told me to call a week from that time, and they would be prepared to execute the deed. This I thought was very fair, and I left the office. On the appointed day I called, and found the office closed, as the managers had sloped."
The conversation then turned upon Police Courts, and the facilities which they afforded in aiding a person to get glimpses of the elephant. It was conceded that the experience of Dropper, just related, opened very fair, and, on the suggestion of Mr. Quackenbush, it was resolved:
1. That the members of the club do make it their business
2. To visit the Police Courts
3. Before the next meeting of the club.
The meeting was adjourned by the club, singing, "We're all jolly good fellows."
A. Pothecarie.
SEVERAL evenings passed before all the members of the club again assembled. In the meantime the quantity of manuscripts had become courtunusually large, the members having found that the Police Courts were prolific in sights of the colossal quadruped. When they did meet it was whispered that one of the members had had some personal experience, not only as a spectator but as a prisoner. No questions, however, were propounded upon the subject, in a tone loud enough for the member in question to hear, as they desired to allow him to speak of the matter voluntarily, confess his fault, and receive the forgiveness of his fellows.
The proceedings of the evening were opened by the Higholdboy, who took his official seat, announced that the special order of the meeting was to hear the reports of members who had been present at the sessions of the Police Courts, with the view of noting down their zoölogical features.
The Higholdboy called upon Dennis, Wagstaff, and Overdale for the result of their visit to the Police Courts. Wagstaff's notebook was produced, and the lengthened narratives inscribed therein went to show the following state of facts.
Wagstaff arose one morning at six precisely, and, after having hit Dennis with his own wooden leg, and pulled Overdale's eyes open by his whiskers and hair, announced to them if they were going to visit the Essex Market Police Court that day, to see the animals, that it was time to rise. They slipped on their clothing as soon as possible, and started somewhat sooner. They passed the Odd Fellows Hall, which Overdale expatiated upon at some length as an extensive log-chain factory. He formed his conclusion from seeing three links of chain represented in a conspicuous part of the building. The Westchester House he informed them was Washington's head quarters, and under this belief they stopped some time to look at it, and speak of it in connection with the many stories related of that interesting relic of the architecture of the last century.
They arrived at length at the Essex Market, in the upper part of which the police magistrate of that judicial district sits in a big chair, for the purpose of dealing out retail justice and getting a wholesale living.
The trio ascended into the court-room, where the justice was seated, disposing of the hard cases which had accumulated during the night. Overdale was still communicative. In answer to the inquiries of Dennis, he informed that gentleman that the police clerks were associated justices, that the prisoner's cage was the jury-box, and pointed out the prisoners themselves as the jury. The humble member of the police, who is known as the doorman, Overdale said answered well the description of the Chief of the Police, contained in one of the historic works of John McLenan. Dennis inquired where the prisoners were. Overdale was unable to answer, but at last expressed it as his opinion that the persons who were standing about them must "be the malefactors." Dennis said he never could satisfactorily account for the jurors being tried, and sent out of the room in charge of officers, but he had too much confidence in the extensive knowledge and vast intelligence of Overdale, to suppose that his hirsute friend could possibly be mistaken. In consequence of this misplaced confidence on the part of Wagstaff and Dennis, the notebook of the former was filled with notes of the trials of the different members of the jury.
One case of which Wagstaff took full notes, was that of Edward Bobber, a seafaring man, of very peculiar appearance, possessing some remarkable characteristics of manner, dress, speech, looks, and action. He was charged with being drunk. In the way of physical beauty, Edward was decidedly a damaged article. He had lost one arm by a snake-bite, and been deprived of an eye by the premature explosion of a pistol, which broke his spectacles at the same time it extinguished his sinister optic. The unexpected descent of a ship-mate, from the tops, upon his head, had turned his neck so that he seemed to be keeping a perpetual look out over his shoulder with his remaining eye. His nose resembled a half-ripe tomato, and a pair of warty excrescences hung upon his face, as if some one had shot a couple of marbles at him, which had stuck to him for life. His complexion bore a close resemblance to the outside of a huckleberry-pudding. His teeth, which were unusually long, projected backward, as if they had taken a start to grow down his throat. This last peculiarity was, undoubtedly, one cause of a remarkable singularity of speech, which seriously impaired his natural facility of conversation. Some idiosyncrasy of disposition, probably, had also something to do with this lingual embarrassment, but certain it is, that Mr. Edward Bobber never answered one question until he was asked another, to which last he would give the reply intended for query number one. Whether his mental faculties needed always a second-interrogative punching up, or whether the fangs projecting downward retained one answer until displaced by another, Wagstaff and his friends were unable to decide; but they truly believe that an inquiry propounded to Edward Bobber, aforesaid, would have remained unanswered until doomsday, unless a second question followed the first.
A transcript of a conversation between him and the Clerk of the Court reads as follows:
"The prisoner removed his solitary orb from its guardianship, over his left shirt sleeve, rolled it slowly round until it commanded a fair view of the questioner, but said nothing. The clerk, nothing daunted, continued:
"'How long have you been in this country?'
"The face assumed a look of intelligence, and answer No. 1 came out.
"Edward.—Broome County.
"Clerk.—How old are you?
"Edward.—Two years.
"Clerk.—How long have you been drunk?"
"Edward.—Thirty-four years, seven months, and nine days.
"Clerk.—Where did you get your liquor?
"Edward (rolling his eye toward the Judge).—Been on a spree four days.
"Judge (very indignant).—Did you say I've been on a spree?
"Edward.—Old Mother Bidwell's, down in Mott street.
"Clerk.—Do you mean hereafter to treat this Court respectfully?
"Edward.—No, sir; I hope not.
"Officer with red hair.—If you ain't crazy, I'm a jack-ass.
"The excited Judge here commenced making out his commitment, but the Clerk, who began to see the fun, thought best to ask him a few more questions first, and accordingly inquired of Bobber what he traded in, as he seemed to own a sloop. The prisoner, who had been cogitating upon the last remark of the red-haired officer until he had waxed wroth, burst out:
"'Jack-ass! jack-ass! yes, you are a jack-ass; not a doubt of it.'
"Clerk.—Come, tell me what kind of liquor did you drink yesterday?
"Edward.—Soap, candles, coffee, bar-lead, chickens, coal, pine kindling-wood, smoked hams, and white-wood shingles—
"Judge (interfering).—Prisoner, you are only getting yourself into trouble. My patience will give out. I can't stand everything. Do you think I'm made of patience?
"Edward.—Whisky; nothing but whisky, sir; upon my honor.
"The last answer proved too much for the gravity of the Court. The Judge, the Clerk, the attendant officers, and all smiled audibly. A whispered word from the Clerk explained to the Justice the true state of the case. Edward was discharged, and as he departed from the court-room, an officer, two blocks away, heard him, in answer to a request for a penny proffered by a little girl, give what was undoubtedly intended as a detailed reply to the last interrogative remark of the Police Justice."