The case of Mr. Palmerston Hook, which was also reported in Wagstaff's notebook, would seem to indicate that there was more than one way of catching fish.
"Mr. Hook was brought up as a vagrant. He was a smooth-faced individual, about old enough to vote, dressed in rather grotesque, flashy clothes, very much worn. The sleeves of his coat were quite large, in accordance with the prevailing style. But they served a purpose of utility, as was developed by the evidence, in a rather novel profession which Mr. Hook followed.
"The principal witness was Mr. James Skinner, a very respectable dealer in Catherine Market, who devotes his time and talents to purchasing eels from the catchers thereof and selling the same to citizens and others who desire to enjoy the luxury of eating eels, either fried or done up in the form of pie or any other form. Mr. Skinner has obtained for himself an enviable popularity as a man of integrity. It has never been said of him that he ever sold an eel whose recent advent upon dry land from the salt water was a matter of serious question; and to think that Mr. Palmerston Hook should have selected Mr. Skinner's stock to depredate upon is a matter of some surprise. Mr. Skinner testified as follows:
"'This 'ere feller came to my eel-stand yes'day mornin' and asked me how eels was? Sez I, 'Good as usu'l,' and I axed him if he wanted to buy. Sez he, 'How much?' Says I, 'Eight'n pence.' Sez he, 'Is them all yer got?' Sez I, 'Yis.' Ye see, jest before this feller come up, I counted 'em and there was 'zactly 'lev'n. Then this 'ere feller he 'gun to paw 'em over, and kinder jumble 'em up together, which I thowt was wery funny; and at last, sez he, 'Guess I won't take none this mornin'.' He acted so kinder sneakin' that I thowt he wasn't all right, and 'fore he got out of sight I counted the eels an' found one on 'em was missen. I put for this 'ere feller and ketched him at the corner, an' I found my 'spicions was right, for on searchin' the chap I found a neel up in 'is coat-sleeve.'
"Judge.—How did he keep the eel up in his sleeve?
"Mr. Skinner.—Well, that was done in a kinder 'genus way; he had a fish'ook on the end of a line, an' the line was run up the right coat-sleeve, over 'is shoulder, an' it come down inside of 'is coat on the left side, an' he come up to the stand, an' wen he was a kinder pawin' over the eels he was a ketchin' the fish'ook in the tail of the eel, an' as soon as it was ketched in he pulled the line with his left 'and an' drawed the eel up inter 'is sleeve; an' as soon as it was drawed up he stopped pawin' an' left, an' 'ere's the fish'ook an' line wot I found on 'im; an' I think he oughter be sent to Blackwell's Island for bein' a wagrant.
"Judge.—Hook, what have you got to say for yourself?
"Mr. Hook.—I 'aven't got nothin' to say honly I vos wery 'ungry and vas a lookin' along in the market ven I 'appened to see the heels vot this 'ere hold cock 'ad. Sez I to m'self, sez I, now, I'll hax the price and mebbee the hole voman may vant von if they's cheap. Vell, I 'appened t'ave a 'ook and line in my coat, vich I spose haccidentally got ketched in von of the heels, and ven I left to go and tell the hole voman 'ow cheap they vas, it 'ung on to the 'ook.
"Judge.—That's a pretty story to tell me. Do you suppose I am going to believe it?
"Mr. Hook.—On the honor of a gentleman that vas the vay it 'appened.
"Judge.—At any rate, I shall send you up for three months.
"Mr. Hook.—Bust me, I honly vish you 'ad to try it three months yourself, you vouldn't think it vas quite so funny.
"Mr. Palmerston Hook was conducted below.
"Another interesting feature of the proceedings during the morning grew out of the case of Mr. Wallabout Warbler, whose name was the last called.
"Mr. Warbler had reached the last stages of shabby gentility. Time had told sadly on his garments, originally of fine material and fashionable cut. His black, curly hair was whitened out by contact with whitewash, and his nose had become a garden for the culture of blossoms by far more common than they are proper. But Mr. Warbler, despite the reverses which he had evidently suffered, stood proudly and gracefully erect. If the external man was in a state of dilapidation, the spirit still was unhurt. He smiled gracefully when the Judge addressed him and told him that he was charged with having been arrested in a state of drunkenness.
"Officers Clinch and Holdem were the witnesses against Mr. Warbler. They stated substantially that about one o'clock that morning they found Mr. Warbler standing in a garbage-barrel, on the edge of the sidewalk, extemporizing doggerel to an imaginary audience. They insisted upon his stopping, when Mr. Warbler told them that it was a violation of etiquette to interrupt a gentleman when he was delivering a poem before the alumni of a college. He was evidently under the influence of liquor, and quite out of his mind. They thought, for his own safety, that they had better bring him to the station-house.
"Judge.—Mr. Warbler, you have heard what the officers have stated about your eccentric course of conduct; how did you happen to get drunk?
"Mr. Warbler.—'Twas night, and gloomy darkness had her ebon veil unfurled, and nought remained but gas-lamps to light up this 'ere world. The heavens frowned; the twinkling orbs, with silvery light endowed, were all occult on t'other side a thunderin' big black cloud. Pale Luna, too, shed not her beams upon the motley groups which lazily were standing round like new disbanded troops—
"Judge.—It's not to hear such nonsense that I occupy this seat—
"Mr. Warbler.—A death-like stillness e'er prevailed on alley, pier and street.
"Judge.—To listen to such stuff, sir, I can't sacrifice my time—
"Mr. W.—Don't discombobilate my thought and interrupt my rhyme; I think that when misfortune is put on its defence, poetic justice, logic, law, as well as common sense, demand its story all be heard, unless ex parte proof is to send poor friendless cusses underneath the prison's roof. Shall I proceed?
"Judge.—Proceed; but don't make your tale too long.
"Mr. W.—I'll heed your words, depend upon't. I own that I was wrong in rushing headlong as I did into inebriation, but let me question now the Court; is it not a palliation of the depth of human guilt if malice don't incite to break in divers fragments State laws wrong or right, and when only human appetite, uncontrolled by human reason leads men of genius, oftentime, the dish of life to season with condiments which pro tem. the mental palate tickle, yet very often, in the end, put human joys in pickle which ain't so cussed funny; though all of the expense of grub and the et ceteras the public pays for; hence, I ask this Court (believing that its feelings are not hampered) if justice should not ever be with human mercy tempered?
"Judge.—Perhaps. Now, tell me, Warbler, where you bought your liquor.
"Mr. W.—Anon I'll tell you. Last week, Judge, prostrate was I, far sicker than to me's agreeable, with the diarrhea chronic, and sympathizing friends advised that I should take some tonic. I asked them what: at once they said, 'Get some lager-bier.' 'Twas got. 'Drink freely, boy,' said they, 'nothing need you fear, but you'll be up and on your legs.' The lager-bier 'was took;' soon every object in my sight had a very drunken look. Lager-bier (to German ears the words may be euphonic.) Tonic, certainly, it was, but decidedly too—tonic. Abnormal thirst excited it, and I went to great excesses (the statement's quite superfluous, my nose the fact confesses). Last night, attracted by the scenes which Gotham's streets present, I dressed myself in sombre clothes, and out of doors I went; to quench my thirst did I imbibe the more of lager-bier at Hoffman's on the corner, several squares from here. No more know I, 'cept in the morn I wakened from my sleep, and having sowed, perhaps I'll learn that likewise I must reap.
"Judge.—Have you got ten dollars?
"Mr. W.—'Tis true, I hain't a red; I suppose the words unpleasant which next to me'll be said; that because by my imprudence my pocket-book's collapsed, in prison drear must I remain till ten days have elapsed.
"Judge.—I'll let you go this time.
"Mr. Warbler.—Ha, say you so? Is't true, that though my offence is rank, in vain I did not sue for mercy; ne'er 'll I fail to say both through thin and thick in the circle of my acquaintance that you're a perfect brick.
"Mr. Wallabout Warbler left the room."
Mr. Van Dam announced that he had visited the Jefferson Market Police Court one morning, and though there was much in the proceedings that was uninteresting, he had yet been able to collate some facts which he doubted not would be regarded as worthy of being recorded upon the minutes of the club.
After taking a punch, Mr. Van Dam proceeded.
He stated that a dozen or two individuals, all of whom, not having the fear of the law before their eyes, and being instigated by a morbid thirst, and who did in the city and county of New York drink, swill, imbibe, smile, guzzle, suck, and pour down various spirituous, fermented, or malt liquors, wine, beer, ale or cider, and from the effects thereof did get drunk, were severally favored with moral lectures and ten dollar fines. The first were not appreciated, and the second were not paid.
But the case which interested Mr. Van Dam most was that of four boys, named Frederick T. White, Michael Keefe, John Wheeler, and Manning Hough, who were arraigned on a charge of disorderly conduct. They were bright-looking boys of about thirteen years of age, dressed in plain but neat clothes, and with the exception of White, did not seem much to like the position they occupied. There was a devil-may-care, though not a vicious look, about White, which was positively refreshing. He seemed to rather like the position than otherwise, and from a roguish leer that was observed in his eye as he surveyed a personage who was to appear as the witness against him, Mr. Van Dam was led to anticipate something in the shape of novelty, and he accordingly prepared for the worst. The Judge told the boys the nature of the charge against them. The name of the witness being called, Mr. Conrad Heinrich Holzenkamp announced his presence by an emphatic 'Here.'
Mr. Holzenkamp was a man who was the very ideal of a lager bier saloon keeper. His weight was at least two hundred and seventy-five pounds, one half of which could be set down to lager bier. His height was not more than five feet eight, but the circumference and diameter of the lager bier were enormous. He carried himself erect by necessity to balance the lager bier in the front. His hide was in wrinkles across the back of his neck whenever he held back his head, and every wrinkle seemed ready to burst with lager bier. Mr. Holzenkamp's face looked lager bier; Mr. Holzenkamp walked lager bier, drank and ate lager bier in alternation. He thought lager bier, dreamed lager bier. In brief, Mr. Holzenkamp was composed of two things: first, the effects of lager bier; and second, lager bier.
Mr. Blotter, the clerk, administered the oath in his characteristic manner as follows:
"You solemnly swear, in the presence of Almighty God, that the evidence which you shall give in the present case, shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, kiss the book, and get out of my way.
"Mr. Holzenkamp.—I can shwear to all de dings vat you shpeak, but to tell de whole troot, dat can I not shwear; ven I can dinks fon all dese boys have done, I tells you more as genuff to sends them to de Benidentiary for so long as dey lives; a hoonerd dings dey do vot I dinks not of.
"The Court.—Kiss the book, Mr. Holzenkamp.
"The witness proceeded to bring a gill of lager bier contained in his nose, and a half gill of lager bier contained in his lips, in contact with a venerable Bible, which has been so familiar with crime by long association that we almost wonder the text has not been long since corrupted as much as the cover. Lager bier and the Bible having come in contact, lager bier is supposed to be incapable of lying.
"The Court.—Mr. Holzenkamp, please state the circumstances connected with the arrest of these boys.
"Mr. H.—Vell, on Vensday night, at von o'clock, my koostumers dey all goes vay fom mine lager bier saloon, und I say to Yawcob to go mit him and put up de blinds; ven he goes out mineself, mine vife, ve drinks some lager bier, and den I dakes de money and counts dem and puts dem in mine pocket; ven Yawcob come in ve locks de door, and goes de shtairs up to shleep; vel mine vife and I get to de bed in, so soon as ve can, and den I shleeps; ven I bin shleep leetle vile mine vife she shakes me and say, 'Heinrich, de cats dey makes noise in de shtreets so dat I cannot shleep;' ven I vakes up I hear so much cats squall in de shtreets dat I dinks dere vas a meetin fon cat politicians. But dey makes so much noise I cannot vink mine eyes vonce to shleep; so I get up and goes to de window and say 'shcat,' 'shcat;' but de more I say shcat de more dey vill not shcat. I say to mine vife, 'Katrina, you bin so younger and so smaller as I bin, you go down in de shtreets and drives 'vay de cats.' My vife den goes down, and ven she opens de door de cat squalls not more, and she looks to see dem, but dere is not cats in de shtreets. Ven she comes de shtairs up again and say de cats bin gone ve lie on de bed to shleep; vell, ven I bin yust shleep most, mine Gott! I hear de cats so louder as before, and I say to mine vife all de cats in de city bin come on the shtep-valk fon mine lager bier saloon; dey squall like hoonerd dyvels, and I try more to shcat dem vay. But it was no goot; dey shquall—I cannot say to you so bad as dey shquall. Mine vife say dere bin a tunder-shower fon cats; ven I lie in mine bed and shtand it so long as I can, I jump up und shwear dat I shoots all de cats in de vorld; I dakes mine bistol and runs de shtairs down, but I bin so mad, und I go so quick, dat I falls the shtairs over, und in a minute finds mine head knock on de vall, my right hand in some Schweitzer cheese, de oder in de shpit-box, und von foot in de big ice-pitcher; so soon as I can gits up and goes to de door und opens it, I goes on de shtep-valk, und mine foot shlips, and I falls down on mine back, and breaks all de bones in mine body; I feels mine hand on de shtep-valk, and I find it bin all covered mit soft soap; I dries to raise mineself, but I bin so heavy dat I down falls before I get up; yust den mine vife come and help me, and bulls me fom de shtep-valk in de door; ve do not hear de cats den, und so ve goes to de beds again; so soon as ve lie down I hears de cats so vorse as de oder time—I hears notings but cats; I never was so much afraid except vonce ven a lager bier barrel fly in bieces; I goes to de vindow and I dinks I hear dem on de awning, und I gets out; yust den de cats shtop, but I say I vill find vere dey bin on de awning; I valk along und my foot trips on some shtrings, and ven I fall I hear one loud cat-shquall dat fright me so dat I dinks I bin fall on more as dhree hoonered cats; ven I can get up I feels on de shtrings, und I valks till I finds a box; I brings de box to de vindow; Katrina gets de lamp und dere ve find in de long vood shoe-box seven cats vat vas fixed dis way: seven notch holes vas cut in de side de box, and de cats was put in de box mit deir heads shtick out de holes; on de oder side de box was seven leetle notch holes vere vas de cats' dails, und a shtring vas tie to all de cats' dails; I know dat de cats come not in de box by demselves, und so I look to see vere vas de boys; I comes de shtairs down again, goes on de shtep-valk so soft as I can, and I finds vere de strings comes down fom de awning; I keeps hold de shtring till I find it come to a big sugar hogshead by de next house, and dere I find dese boys; yust den I say 'Vatch!' and de boliceman comes and dakes de boys to de station-house; I believe dey is de same boys as trouble me before.
"The Court.—Boys, what have you got to say for yourselves for such conduct?
"Master White volunteered to act as spokesman. He said:
"Well, one day we was a playing in front of this 'ere man's lager bier saloon, and he come out and threatened to lick us if we didn't stop. We kept on, and bine-by he comes to the door when we wasn't a lookin', and threw a pailful of dirty water on us. We thought we'd got as good a right to the street as he had, so we made up our minds to be even with him, and we got the box and cats and serenaded him.
"Mr. Holzenkamp stated that he baptized the boys a few days before as described. The boys promised not to bother lager bier saloon keepers any more, in consideration of which they were discharged."
Mr. Van Dam stated that the last case called was that of Mr. Timothy O'Neil.
The case he said occupied the attention of the court nearly a half hour, owing to the difficulty which the court experienced in getting him to make direct responses to his questions.
"Timothy appeared in a grey dress-coat—that is to say, it was high in the waist, with a short and pointed tail, a feature oftener produced by tailors than by literary men of the present day. Timothy's vest was red; his breeches were made of corduroy. Below them were long coarse stockings and brogans.
"The evidence went to show that Timothy had been found drunk in the street, but he was not communicative on the subject. He did not call the officer a liar after he had heard him give his evidence, nor tell the judge that he was an 'owld tief.' He said nothing until he was asked to take the usual oath. The Judge said: 'Mr. O'Neil, put your hand on the book.' Mr. O'Neil complied cautiously, fearing the result of his act. When the words of the oath were uttered he made the sign of the cross, and after being requested by the court, kissed the Bible.
"The Clerk.—What's your name?
"Prisoner.—The same as me father's.
"'What was his name?'
"'The same as mine.'
"'Tell me your name or you shall be locked up.'
"'Timothy.'
"'And what else?'
"'I haven't any middle name.'
"'I mean your last name.'
"'O'Neil.'
"'How long have you been in the city?'
"'Since I come to the counthry.'
"'How long is that?'
"'Pat Hooligan can tell ye betther nor I can.'
"'What month was it?'
"'The first Sunday in Lint.'
"'Where do you live?'
"'Wid Biddy and the childer.'
"'Where do they live?'
"'The second floor, back room, bad luck to the bugs that's in it.'
"'I mean what street?'
"'Mike Henessy's store is on the first floor.'
"'Tell me what street the house is on?'
"'Who the divil can tell whin they are changin' the names of the blackguard streets so much?'
"'What was the street called before the name was changed?'
"'Anthony street; they calls it by another name now.'
"'Worth street I suppose you mean?'
"'I mane that the painter should have put it Worthless street.'
"'Whereabouts in Worth street?'
"'Three doors from the corner.'
"'What corner?'
"'The corner of the street.'
"'What street?'
"'The street three doors above.'
"'Well what is its name?'
"'Bad luck to you, why didn't ye ax me that before?'
"'Well, tell me the name.'
"'Faith I don't know miself. It's an alley.'
"'Well, what's the number of the house?'
"'The number on the door do you mane?'
"'Certainly.'
"'There isn't anny.'
"'What is your trade?'
"'Me father never 'prenticed me.
"'I mean what do you work at?'
"'I don't do any work.'
"'Why?'
"'Because you've got me locked up in prison.'
"'Will you tell me what you work at when out of prison?'
"'At what were you employed?'
"'Haird work.'
"'What kind of work?'
"'In the shores' (sewers).
"'You are charged with being drunk.'
"'Dhrunk, is it. Faith, I never was more sober in my life than I am at this minute.'
"'That may be; but here are a half-dozen men who are ready to swear that they saw you drunk yesterday.'
"'Av it comes to that, can't I bring twiste as manny who will swear that they didn't see me dhrunk yisterday.'
"'What kind of liquor did you drink?'
"'Mighty bad liquor, and ye'd say the same av ye was to thry it.'
"'Was it malt or spirituous liquor?'
"'It was nayther; it was whisky.'
"'Where did you purchase it?'
"'At the Dutchman's.'
"'Where is his store?'
"'On the corner.'
"'What corner?'
"'The corner nearest to where they're buildin' the shtore.'
"Where I was workin'.'
"The Court.—What was O'Neil doing when you found him?
"Officer.—He was lying very drunk in a hole which he had been digging.
"Prisoner.—Be me sowl you're wrong for wonst; I didn't dig the howl; I dug out the dirt and left the howl.
"'Were you ever up before the Court before?'
"'No, nor behind aither; when I want to be again, I'll sind to your honor and let ye know.'
"'If I let you of this time will you keep sober?'
"'Faith I will, unliss the Dutchmin keep betther liquor nor they do now.'
"'You may go.'
"'Thank ye, sir—ye're a gintleman, av there iver was wan.'
"Mr. Timothy O'Neil left the court-room."
Mr. Dropper also proposed to relate the experience of some half a dozen mornings which he had spent in the pursuit of amusement under difficulties, when he had occupied himself in seeing the sights around the Jefferson Market Police Court.
"On one of the mornings which I devoted to visiting the Tombs," said Mr. Dropper, "the class of prisoners varied. Most of them claimed to be from the western of the British Isles. Others said they were born in Cork, Clare, Down, and other counties. A number answered to patronymics to which were prefixed the letter O, and an apostrophe. One party, who called themselves Fardowners, looked brick-bats at another party who occupied a remote corner of the cage, and who claimed to be Connaughtmen. The remainder of the prisoners were Irish.
"An interesting feature in the proceedings of the morning was a case in which Owen Shaughnessy, Patrick Mulholland, Michael O'Shea, Timothy Leahey, Dennis Maroney, Dermot McDermott, Phelim Flannegan, Bridget O'Keefe, Mary McBride, Ellen Dougherty and Bridget Casey were the defendants. As the Judge called out their names, the prisoners severally responded. They were all, as their names would indicate, of Irish birth. The men, evidently long-shoremen and laborers, and the women, servants. Their garments, in some instances, were torn, and in other ways disarranged and soiled. The men, and in one or two instances the women, showed bruises about their faces and hands, indicating their active participation in a recent scrimmage, from the effects of which they had not had the time, or soap and water, to enable them to recover.
"Mr. Gerald O'Grady, who stands at the head of the bar at the Tombs, and who, under adverse circumstances and strong competition, has been enabled, by his talents, to keep up his tariff of fees, from which he has never deviated, appeared as counsel for the prisoners. Mr. O'Grady has never been known to defend a case for less than fifty cents, unless, actuated by feelings of commendable philanthropy, he has volunteered his professional services gratis. It may be reasonably supposed that his success has excited the envy of the 'shysters;' for while they have to sit oftentimes a whole morning beside their respective granite columns at the Tombs, without being called upon to defend a case, Mr. O'Grady's presence in the court-room is in frequent demand. Mr. O'Grady had been retained in this case, I learned, by seven of the defendants, at a certain specified fee for each man, he volunteering his professional services to the ladies without charge. He announced to the Court that he represented the defendants, and that they were ready to have the trial commence.
"'Is Mr. O'Grady your counsel?' the Judge inquired of the defendants.
"'Yes, yer honor,' said one of the parties addressed; 'didn't I pay him five shillings—divil a hap'ny less—for to defind me.'
"'Five shillings?' said Mr. O'Grady, indignantly, 'you mane that as a retainer, of coorse.'
"Defendant.—I mane that's all ye'll get, anny how——
"Counsel (loudly).—Say, sir, it is time for you to know that, as a client, you should addhress the Coort only through your counsel. (To the Court.) Sir, my clients here, paceable citizens, stand ready for to answer, through me, to the diabolical chairges which designin' min have brought against thim, feelin' within their breasts——(Here Mr. O'Grady hit one of his clients a severe blow in his bread-basket).
"Assaulted Client.—Oh! h-h—.
"Counsel (to client).—Keep your mouth shut, why don't you? (To the Court.) Feelin', as I said before, widthin their breasts, the proud consciousness of their entire innocence of anny charges which their accusers could dare for to bring against thim.
"The witnesses were Sergeant Ferrett and Officers Snap, Catcher, O'Grasp, Ketchum, Holder, and Van Knabem.
"Officer Holder stated, in substance, that while patrolling his beat during Thursday night, the inmates of a house, No. 83½ Pacific Place, began to get very disorderly. From the howlings and noises which he heard, he came to the conclusion that there was a wake in the house. Not desiring to stop the disturbance by any violent means, he knocked at the door, with the view of telling them that they were disturbing the public peace, and requesting them to desist. No response was made to his knock. He then put his mouth to the keyhole of the door, and announced to them, as audibly as he could, that unless they desisted, he should have to call other officers and arrest them. No attention was paid to his words. Sergeant Ferrett arrived soon after, and inasmuch as the disturbance continued to increase, they called in the other officers to make a descent on the place, not, however, until they had first endeavored, by their voices, to make the inmates of the house understand the consequence to them, in case they persisted in their unlawful course. Officer Ketchum, who had formerly patrolled the beat, knew of a rear entrance to the house through an alley, and they accordingly entered the house by that way. They found about twenty persons present, men and women, engaged in a promiscuous scrimmage, howling, drinking, and fighting. The orders of the sergeant to cease their disturbance did not avail anything, which decided them to arrest the leading actors in the scene, which they forthwith accomplished, after some considerable resistance on the part of the company. They brought them to the station-house. The remainder of the party subsequently retired or left the place, which was quiet for the rest of the night.
"The remaining officers confirmed the evidence of officer Holder, in such of its particulars as they were acquainted with. All of them were cross-questioned, more or less, by Mr. O'Grady, without, however, eliciting any new facts of material interest.
"Mr. O'Grady introduced, as a witness for the defense, Mrs. Katheleen Hennesy.
"Mrs. Hennesy is a lady of about forty-five years of age, five feet ten inches in height, weighing about two hundred and fifty pounds. She has a florid face. Her dress was remarkable for the extent with which it was ornamented with highly-colored ribbons and laces, gathered in fantastic bows.
"Mr. Blotter, the clerk, administered the usual oath.
"Mrs. Hennesy, having kissed the book, the examination was commenced.
"Mr. O'Grady.—Misthress Hennesy, will you state to the Coort if you're the proprietor of the house No. 83½ Pacific Place.
"Mrs. Hennesy.—Av coorse I am, and divil a hap'ny is there owin' to anny man for what's inside of it.
"Mr. O'G.—What kind of a house do you keep there?
"Mrs. H.—Is it for to prove that the charackther of me house is not good that yer afther axin' the question?
"Mr. O'G.—Misthress Hennesy, could ye make it convanient to thrate this Coort wid becoming respect, by answerin' the questions that I put to ye, for the purpose of establishin' a definse of these ladies and gintlemen, some of whom, I am towld, are inmates of yer house? What kind of a house, I'll ax ye wonst more, do ye keep?
"Mrs. H.—It's a respectable, honest boordin'-house; bad luck to the blackgaird that says it's not.
"Mr. O'G.—Will you plase to state to the Coort the facts of the unfortunate occurrence that thranspired in yer house last night?
"Mrs. H.—For the matther o' that, there's mighty little for to tell; for it was nothin' more nor a wake, barrin' that the corpse come to life widout showin' the civility of first tellin' the mourners that he wasn't dead at all at all, and sayin', 'By yer lave, I'd rather not be, av it's all the same to yez.'
"Mr. O'G.—It's about that, Misthress Hennesy, that his honor is a waitin' for ye to spake of. Now, thin, will ye relate the facts?
"Mrs. H.—Well, plase yer honor, it was yestherday mornin' airly that I heard Timothy Garretty was up stairs in his room, very sick, and like to die. I dhressed myself, and sent for the docther, and went up stairs; and throth Tim was a lyin' there in wan of his fits, wid which he had been often throubled before; and before the docther could come to him, the circulation of his brathin' had stopped entirely. Well, yer honor, Tim had manny frinds in the house, and as he was an owld boordher, we thought to howld a wake over his body. He was laid out, and put into a coffin. At night all of his frinds come into the room, where everything was illegantly arranged for the wake. They had begun to dhrink their whisky, and was enjoyin' themselves in a gintale way, whin Pat Mulholland, he sthruck Mike O'Shea over the eye for somethin' that Mike had said, and wid that Mike's frinds and Pat's frinds got themselves mixed up in a free fight together. At that time, plase yer honor, who should I see arisin' from the coffin but Timothy Garretty himself, and restin' on his hands. By my sowl I was freckened, for I thought it was Tim's apparition that was appearin'. Thin Tim spoke up; 'Bad luck to yez,' says he, 'isn't it a fine thing yez is doin'—havin' the whisky flowin' free, and a free fight, too, and keepin' me a lyin' in this blackgaird box on the broad of me back, widout ever so much as axin' me if I had a mouth on me at all at all?' Wid that somebody who was a strikin' happened to hit Timothy a clout in the eye, which knocked him back into the coffin.
funeral
"'Who the divil did that?' sez Tim, as he made a spring from the coffin on to the floor, dhressed all up in his white clothes. 'Show me the man that shtruck me in me eye;' and wid that Tim he commenced a shtrikin' out, and he shtruck Dennis Marony under the but of the lug. Whin they saw Tim out of his coffin, they stopped a fightin', and fell on their knees, and commenced a sayin' their prayers. 'What's the matther wid yez?' says Tim.
"'Are ye not dead?' says Larry O'Brien.
"'Yes, as dead as a nest of live flaze,' says Tim.
"'Then yer alive,' says they.
"'Thry me wid some whisky,' says he; and wid that they got up and give Tim some whisky, which he never dhrank wid a betther grace nor thin. Well, as Tim wasn't dead, they couldn't howld the wake, but they said it would be a pity to lave the whisky to spoil, so they agreed that they'd have the spree just the same. Tim was purty wake from his fit, and so it didn't take long to make him dead dhrunk, whin we laid him in his bed. Afther that, yer honor, they kept on a dhrinkin', and was fightin' in the most frindly way, whin the M.P.s come into the door, and tuck some of thim off to the station-house. I thin shut up the house, and the rest wint to bed.
"Judge.—Mrs. Hennesy, where is Timothy, the corpse?
"'Here, sir,' said a cadaverous-looking Hibernian, 'a little the worse for dyin' widout bein' very dead.'
"Judge.—I think you're good for a few years yet if you take care of yourself. Mr. O'Grady, have your other witnesses anything to testify in addition to what Mrs. Hennesy has stated?
"Mr. O'Grady.—I belave not, yer honer. The material facts of the definse are sufficiently proven by Misthress Hennesy's evidence. Av the Coort plase, I have a few words to say in behalf of me clients here, which, av the Coort will hear me, I will make brief and to the point.
"Judge.—Go on.
"Mr. O'Grady.—Thin, av the Coort plase, I will state that the ground of my definse of these gintlemen and ladies against the unfounded chairge of their disturbin' the public pace, is that the chairge is unthrue in point of fact. Sir, what are the facts? A man dies, and his friends congregate about the corpse to perform their last friendly offices to his remains, in accordance with a custom justified by thradition, ratified by usage, sanctified by antiquity, vilified by these officers of the law when they call it a disturbance of the public quiet, crucified when they burst in the house of mournin' and interfered wid it in the name of the law; and, sir, I shall now proceed to establish a definse, bone fide, with the soundness of which I belave yer honor will be satisfied. Sir, the Constitution guarantees to my clients freedom of conscience; the stairs and sthripes wave proudly over a land in which religious despotism never dare show its repulsive form; and yet these officers dare to say that a custom, which is almost a pairt of the religion of these my clients, is a disturbance of the public pace. Sir, the institutions of our counthry air endangered by such perceedin's. And who was they disturbin'? Wasn't every man and woman and child in Pacific Place of the same nationality of these my clients? Air not their ethnological instincts runnin' in the same channels? Was they disturbed? No! Every man and woman and child there would have admired the devotion of these my clients, to their ancient national thraditions and customs. There they was wan wid another doin' their last friendly offices to their deceased friend in a fraternal fight over his corpse. Sir, what a sublime spectacle for the human mind to contemplate. I wondher that the officers were not thransfixed by the solemnity and moral grandeur of the scene.
"Judge.—Mr. O'Grady, I think that the fact of the dead having come to life, and having been put to bed dead drunk, proves disastrous for your argument, even admitting its soundness.
"Mr. O'Grady.—Thrue it is, yer honor, that the wake was perceedin' without the corpse, as thradition has it, that wonst upon a time Hamlet was played widout the Prince of Denmark; but, yer honor, it was the fault of the corpse, and not of that assembly of mourners. If Timothy Garretty had chosen to have remained a dacintly-behaved corpse, thin the objection which yer honor has raised could not have weighed against me clients here, and I press it now upon yer honor should my clients here be held accountable for the shortcomings of the corpse? I think not, sir.
"Judge.—I think, Mr. O'Grady, you may dispense with further argument, as it would be superfluous. Mrs. Hennesy's house and its inmates have never been complained of before that I am aware of, and in consideration of this fact I'll discharge the prisoners, giving them warning, however, in the future that if they are any of them brought before me again, I shall not deal with them so leniently. You may go.
"The interesting party left the court.
"The business of the court having been quite extended, the Judge cast eyes upon the clock, observing that the hour was already advanced, but as he looked at the list of cases before him, he observed with a seeming satisfaction, that he had now reached the last; he felicitated himself with the idea that in a few moments he would be at liberty to leave the premises, and after finding his way to some neighboring restaurant, partake of his judicial sirloin steak and coffee. He was evidently fatigued, but he put on a good-humored face as he called out:
"'Timothy Mulrooney.'
"'Here, sir,' said a young Milesian, remarkable for nothing in particular; 'here I am, sir:' and Timothy Mulrooney stepped forward to the bar.
"The Judge addressed the prisoner:
"'Timothy,' said he, 'you are charged with disorderly conduct.'
"'Yes sir, he is, and it's me that chairges him wid that same,' spoke up an old woman, dressed in a heavy, blue cloth cloak, and an antiquated cap and bonnet.
"Judge.—Are you the witness?
"Woman.—Av coorse I am, your honor, and it's me pride that I can spake against Tim Mulrooney—the dirty tief of the world that he is (to the prisoner), and I wondher, Tim, that you're not ashamed to howld up yer head before his honor.
"Judge.—Madame, state the facts as they occurred.
"Witness.—Well, place your honor, it was on Friday mornin' or Saturday mornin', I don't know which; but be that as it may, it doesn't make anny difference, because it's about what followed that yer honor wants for to know, when I heard the horn of a fish-cairt in front of my door; sez I to myself, now Michael has come wid the porgies, and—
"Judge.—Who is Michael?
"Witness.—And don't ye know Michael, sure? he is my own child, and a betther-behaved and more dacent boy nor him never sang at a wake; and he can rade and write yer honor, as well as annybody, barrin' that whin he comes to the big words he has to skip them, and guess at what they mane; but that is not his fault, yer honor, for Michael never had any time to go to school, still—
"Judge.—Madame, you shouldn't let your tongue fly off in a tangent in this way. What we desire to know is relative to the charge preferred by you against Timothy Mulrooney, here.
"Witness.—Yes, your worship, I was just comin' to it when ye interrupted me. (To the prisoner)—Ah, you murdbering tief, it's on Blackwell's Island that ye ought to be, instead of bein' here to face his honor in the indacent way that ye'r doing now. (To the Judge)—Well, your honor, it was on Friday mornin' or Saturday mornin', I can't tell which, but be that as it may, it does not make anny difference, because it's about what followed that yer honor wants for to know, when I heard the horn of a fish-cairt in front of me door. Sez I to myself, Michael has come wid the porgies. You see, your honor, Michael owns a fish-cairt, and he sells fish, and what he doesn't sell he brings home for us to ate. He towld me in the morning, that he would thry for to save some of the porgies for dinner. Thin I wint out ov the door, and sure enough it was Michael. 'Michael,' sez I; 'What,' sez he; 'Is it here ye's air?' sez I; 'Sure it is,' sez he; 'Did you save the porgies?' sez I; 'Av coorse I did,' sez he; and wid that he commenced takin' out the fish from the cairt.
"Judge.—What has all this to do with Timothy Mulrooney's offensive conduct? you have not shown as yet that he has done anything wrong.
"Witness.—Yer honor need have no fears but I'll convince yez that a dirtier spalpeen nor him niver was allowed to go unhung among a dacent people. (To the prisoner)—Ah, Tim, ye villain, I wondher that the ship didn't sink wid ye on board when ye left the ould counthry; I'd like to see ye show a receipt wid yer passage-money paid, ye—
"Judge.—Madam, I must insist upon your addressing yourself to the Court; you have no business to speak to the prisoner at all. Although he may have done wrong, yet so long as he is in my presence he shall be protected from the assaults of your tongue.
"Witness (excited).—The assaults of me tongue! Howly St. Pathrick, do ye hear that? Yer honor, I'm a dacint woman wid a family of childher and divil a word was ever spoke against me charackther before.
"Judge.—I said nothing against your character. I want you to confine yourself to what Timothy Mulrooney did to disturb the peace and quiet of your domicile.
"Witness.—I will yer honor. It was on Friday mornin', or Saturday mornin', I don't know which, but be that as it may, it don't make anny difference, because it's about what followed that yer honor wants for to know; ah, yer honor, I have it now—it was Friday mornin'—we was to have porgies for dinner, and not mate, because it was Friday—
"Judge.—All this is worse than nothing; you are taking up the time of the court by your tedious talk, which, so far as I can see, has no bearing whatever on the charge you have seen fit to make against this man Timothy.
"Witness.—Haven't I been trying for the last ten minutes to tell ye, and ye'll not not let me? It's wid a bad grace that yer honor reproves me for not tellin' ye what I know, whin it's yerself that is interruptin' me. Well, yer honer, it was on Friday morning, whin I heard the horn of a fish-cairt in front of my door, sez I to myself, now Michael—
"Judge.—I don't want to hear that story any more. You have told that several times already. State the facts about Timothy. Come down to the time when he commences to figure.
"Witness.—Ah, bad luck to the thratement that I get here. Has any of my illusthrious family the O'Briens ever done annything against yer honer that yez should illthrait me in this way?
"Judge.—Not that I am aware of. Now go on with your evidence.
"Witness.—Well, yer honor, as I was about to tell ye, it was on Friday mornin' whin I heard the horn of a fish-cairt in front of my door. Sez I to myself—now Michael has come wid the porgies.
"Judge (impatiently).—Mrs. O'Brien, I—
"Witness.—Me name's not O'Brien; I'm a married woman, and me name is Flaherty; me name was O'Brien when I was a girl.
"Judge.—Well, then, Mrs. Flaherty, O'Brien, or whatever your name is, I have heard of these porgies and that fish-cart so often that they have grown stale; now tell me what occurred between you and Timothy Mulrooney?
"Witness.—How do I know but ye'll intherrupt me again before I have said five words?
"Judge.—You may rest assured that I will not if you will tell what Tim Mulrooney has done that is contrary to law.
"Witness.—I could tell ye enough to hang him a half-dozen times, if he had as manny necks as that; (to the prisoner) ye know I could, Tim, ye—
"Judge (perspiringly).—Mrs. O'Flaherty—
"Witness.—Flaherty, widout the O, yer honor.
"Judge.—Well, whatever your name is, you must not say anything to the prisoner in this court. Go on now, and if you will tell what he has done I'll not interrupt you.
"Witness.—Now remember yer promise, ye honor. It was on Friday mornin'—
"Judge (despairingly).—You're at it again. I—
"Witness.—Howly mother of Moses! I told yer honor how it would be wid ye; here I haven't said more nor five words before yer at yer owld thricks again.
"Judge (much vexed).—What did Timothy do with your fish?
"Witness.—He didn't do annything wid them that time, barrin' that he saw Michael bring them in the house, and I heard him tell Biddy Mulrooney, his mother, who lives in the next room to me, that he would rather live on praties and bread, as they was a doin', than to ate stinkin' porgies that nobody else would buy; I know the Mulrooneys was jealous.
"Judge.—Did Timothy create any disturbance then?
"Witness.—No, yer honor, he didn't.
"Judge.—Then why did you have him arrested?
"Witness.—It was afther thin that the spalpeen made the disturbance.
"Judge.—When was that?
"Witness.—It was yestherday mornin'.
"Judge.—What did Timothy do?
"Witness.—It wasn't Tim, but his cat.
"Judge.—Then it seems that you have entered a charge against Timothy Mulrooney of disorderly conduct, which, by right, you should have made against Timothy Mulrooney's cat, always provided that cats are amenable to municipal law.
"Witness.—By my sowl, yer honor, ye've got it mixed up again. Now why didn't ye wait until I could tell ye.
"Judge.—Go on; I am reconciled to my fate. As a particular favor, I should like to have you finish within a half hour.
"Witness.—Well, yer honor, as I was tellin' ye, the Mulrooneys was jealous of us because we had fish and they didn't. Yestherday mornin' Michael brought home more porgies (the Judge here heaved a deep sigh) and I laid them on top of a barrel in the passage to wait till I could dress them; what next, yer honor, did I see but Tim Mulrooney's big tom cat on the barrel atin' the fish; I heaved a pratie at the cat and it ran off wid the porgies; just thin I saw Tim Mulrooney laughing at what the cat was doin'; I know the blackgaird had towld the cat to ate the porgies; I called to Michael, and I run toward Tim to bate the tief as he deserved, whin my foot slipped and I furled over on the broad of my back; wid that Tim laughed the more, and Michael run to him, and was about to give him a tap on the sconce, whin Tim struck Michael a blow in his bowels, which quite prostrated him on the floor; with that I ran and got the M.P., who brought the murderin' tief to the station-house.
"Judge.—Well, Mrs. Flaherty, I think, according to your own story, the prisoner acted more in his own defence than any other way.
"Witness.—In his own definse! Bad luck to the tongue that says so. Is—
"Judge (to prisoner).—Timothy Mulrooney, I am by no means sure that your cat did not eat the Flahertys' fish with your connivance. If the cat did so, you did wrong; but for that you are sufficiently punished by your imprisonment last night. I think you might have been less hasty in striking Michael. Is Michael in court?
"Mrs. Flaherty.—He is. Stand up, Michael, before his honor.
"Mrs. Flaherty, Michael and Timothy were standing together in a row.
"Judge.—Now I am going to insure perfect harmony in your house for six months to come; I shall bind each of you over in the sum of $200 to keep the peace.
"This was almost too great a humiliation for the blood of the O'Briens to bear; but there was no alternative. Mrs. O'Brien Flaherty satisfied herself as well as she could by looking screw-drivers at the Judge; Michael appeared demure, and Timothy appeared jolly. The bonds were given, and the interesting trio left the court.
"The Judge rose from his chair, and made a bee line for breakfast."
During the various narrations which were given during the evening, Mr. Quackenbush remained seated in the corner, saying nothing and doing as much. His eyes were partially closed, and an occasional sigh was all that escaped him.
When Mr. Dropper concluded the reading of his contributions, it was moved that Mr. Quackenbush open his mouth, and say something, under the penalty of having it pried open with the poker.
This caused Mr. Quackenbush to open his eyes; and, after various preliminary hems and coughs, he announced that there was a certain rule of evidence which gave a witness the right to refuse to say anything tending to criminate himself. He should avail himself of that rule. Having said these words, Mr. Quackenbush rolled over on the floor, drew himself into double bow knot, and was soon snoring against noise.
In the meantime Mr. Spout had taken the floor, and stated that he had on one occasion been over at the Essex Market Police Court. He was there the involuntary witness of the trial of a case, which might account for the non-communicative disposition manifested on the present occasion by Mr. Quackenbush. During the proceedings, the justice called out the name of R. Percy De Laney Blobb; and in response to the call a tall individual arose and came forward. "I thought I recognized in the individual in question," continued Mr. Spout, "a person whom I had seen before, and I was not mistaken. He was wild, and disposed to regale the assembled company with a numerous collection of songs, which he had at his tongue's end. His dress was much disarranged.
"The evidence of the officer who had arrested the tall gentleman, went to show that he had offended against the laws, by disturbing the rest and quiet of an unappreciative neighborhood, by bawling forth at midnight most unmelodious yells, which, when he was apprehended, he assured the officer were capital imitations of Sontag, Grisi, and Grisi's new baby. When arrested the individual was in a plebeian state of drunkenness—not so much so but that he could sing, as he called it, and could talk after an original fashion of his own. His ideas were slightly confused; he informed the officer that he had been to hear Louisa Crown sing the Pyne Diamonds, and that he met a friend who took him to a billiard shop to see a clam race; that he and his friend bet the whisky on the result; that he drunk for both, and that they had passed the remainder of the evening in a 'magnorious manner,' singing 'Storm Columbus,' 'Yankee Boodles,' and the 'Scar Strangled Bladder.'
"The officer had taken him to the lock-up, where he had finished the night singing 'Good Old Daniel,' whistling the 'Prima Donna Waltz,' and playing an imaginary piano-solo on the floor, in which attempt he had worn off some of his finger-nails. When he was before the court he had not yet recovered his normal condition. He was still musically obstinate, and refused to answer any questions of the Judge, or make any remarks, except in scraps of songs, which he sang in a low voice, mixing up the tunes in a most perplexing manner. Being possessed of an excellent memory, and having a large assortment of melodies at his command, his answers were sometimes more amusing than relevant. The Judge proceeded to interrogate him somewhat as follows:
"Judge.—What is your name, sir?
"Prisoner.—'My name is Robert Kidd, as I sailed'—
"Indignant Officer.—He lies, your honor. Last night he said his name was Blobb.
"Judge.—Where do you live?
"Prisoner.—'Erin, Erin is my home.'
"Knowing Officer.—He isn't an Irishman, Judge; he's a Connecticut Yankee, and lives in East Broadway.
"Prisoner.—'That's eight times to-day you have kissed me before.'
"Officer.—Please, your honor, he's an octagonal liar, I didn't.
"Judge.—Where did you get your liquor?
"Prisoner.—'Way down south in Cedar street; rinctum'—
"Judge (to officer).—What's that he says?
"Attentive Officer.—At Ringtown's in Cedar street.
"Judge.—What number in Cedar street?
"Prisoner.—'Forty horses in the stable.'
"Officious Officer.—Ringtown's, No. 40 Cedar street, your honor.
"Prisoner.—(Voluntary remark, sotto voce.) 'A jay bird sat on a hickory limb—he winked at me and I winked at him.'
"Indignant Officer.—Who're you winkin' at?
"Prisoner.—'Nelly Bly, shuts her eye.'
"Officer.—You'd better shut your mouth.
"Judge.—What have you got to say, prisoner?
"Prisoner.—'Hear me, Norma.'
"Officer.—Well, go on, go on.
"Prisoner.—'O blame not the bard.'
"Judge.—Nobody to blame but yourself.
"Prisoner.—'Did you ever hear tell of Kate Kearney?'
"Knowing Officer.—Keeps a place in Mott street, your honor.
"Prisoner.—'O! O! O! O! O! Sally is the gal for me.'
"Judge (to officer).—Who is Sally? Some disreputable female I suppose.
"Officer.—She went up to the Island to-day, sir.
"Prisoner.—'O tell me, where is Fancy bred.'
"Judge.—I don't know anything about your fancy bread, if you have anything to say, go on.
"Prisoner.—'We'll all go bobbing around.'
"The Judge here became indignant, and demanded if he had a friend to become bail for him, to which query the prisoner hiccuped out,
"I'll never, never find—a better friend than old dog Tray.'
"Judge.—Can't take him, he is not responsible.
"Prisoner.—'I give thee all, I can no more.'
"Judge.—It won't do, sir, I shall fine you $10.
"Prisoner.—'That's the way the money goes—pop goes the weasel.'
"Indignant Officer.—I'll pop you over the head presently.
"Prisoner.—'There's whisky in the jug.'
"Officer.—You'll be there, too, shortly.
"Judge.—If you can't pay you must go to jail.
"Prisoner.—'Give me a cot in the valley I love.'
"Judge.—Very well, sir, I'll do it. Tombs, ten days.
"Prisoner.—'I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls.'
"The officer was about removing the individual below, when I came to the rescue, and informed the Judge that the prisoner was a friend of mine, that this was the first occasion in which he had ever manifested such eccentricities, and if he would let him off from the punishment this time, I would take him to his home and see that he never disturbed the city by his yells in the future.
"The prisoner turned his eyes upon me, and again broke out:
"'Good news from home, good news for me'——
"'Mr. Blobb,' said the Judge, 'if I let you off this time, will you cease going on these drunken sprees?'
"Prisoner.—'I'll touch not, taste not, handle not, whate'er intoxicates.'
"Judge.—I hope that when we meet again it will be under more favorable auspices to yourself——
"Prisoner (interrupting).—'Meet me by moonlight alone, and I will tell thee.'
"Judge (resuming).—For you're in a bad plight now to appear among the ladies.
"Prisoner.—'Oh! I'm the boy for bewitching them.'
"Judge.—Not when you're drunk, I imagine.
"Prisoner.—'A man's a man, for a' o' that.'
"Judge.—You may go, sir. Good day.
"Prisoner.—'Oh, give to me that better word that comes from the heart, Good bye.'
"I managed to get my friend, Mr. Blobb, out of the court-room, and subsequently, with some difficulty, I succeeded in putting him to bed in my apartment, where I kept him for twenty-four hours, until he had recovered from his temporary aberration. He has since that time been in a normal state, except that he appears melancholy at times. He is well enough, however,——
"To be here this evening," said Quackenbush, interrupting; "for know ye that Mr. R. Percy Delancy Blobb is now before you in the person of myself, and I am here to-night to ask forgiveness, which, if you don't give to me, I shall take immediate measures to expel you all from the club."
It was immediately voted that Mr. Quackenbush be forgiven, on condition that he would disclose the facts which led to his being found a prisoner in the Essex Market Police Court.
This, Mr. Quackenbush said he would do and do it now, and after finding room for a glass of ginger-wine, proceeded to narrate his experience.
He stated, substantially, that the whole difficulty grew out of a love affair. He had become deeply infatuated with an unknown and beautiful blonde. He had often met her in the street, in theatres, and concert-rooms, and his intense admiration ripened into a deep love. He was unable to learn who she was until a fortnight previously, when he found a friend who was well acquainted with her, and who undertook to bring about an introduction. Things wore a brighter aspect then. The sun was more brilliant; the moon shed a less melancholy light; lager bier tasted better; oysters appeared fatter; peanuts seemed always roasted just enough, and, in fact, he felt quite satisfied with life, and the world generally, and resolved to postpone indefinitely a purpose he had entertained of buying three cents' worth of arsenic. But a day or two before the scene in the Police Court in which he figured, he found himself in a stage, and directly opposite was the identical object of his admiration and affection. He hitched from one side on his seat to the other; put one leg on the other, and then reversed them; looked out of the window, and then at her; scratched his ears; pulled up his collar; brushed the dust from his pantaloons; put his hands in his pockets; pulled them out, and did many ridiculous things which he would not have done had she not been present. She stopped the stage on one of the avenues, and handed him a five-franc piece to pay the driver. The driver, as usual, gave change in small pieces. He counted it to see that it was all right; found it to be so, and informed her of the fact. The streets being very muddy, he resolved to do the genteel in the way of assisting her out of the vehicle; made his exit; put one foot six inches into a mud-hole, and the other on the edge of the curb-stone; lifted the lady to the sidewalk in safety, at the expense of bursting off two suspender-buttons, and his vest-buckle, a slip down causing his nose to fall against the tire, his knees into the mud, his shoulder against the stage-steps, and caving in his hat. But all this didn't trouble him in the least, as he expected to be more than remunerated by an approving smile on the part of the lady. He turned his face towards her, and found her engaged in counting the change, which he had pronounced to be all right, as if she suspected that he would be guilty of cheating her out of a stray sixpence, and thus hazard his chances for salvation. The effect of the disappointment, on him, was frightful. He felt a sickening sensation; stopped at the nearest whisky-shop, and imbibed; went to another, and took a nip; proceeded to a third, and smiled; reached a fourth, and took a horn; entered a fifth, and drank, and so on, ad libitum. At last he reached Niblo's; saw a flaming poster announcing that Louisa Pyne was to sing in the "Crown Diamonds;" bought a ticket; took several drinks and a seat. His ears had become unusually critical. Thought he could beat Harrison singing, and to satisfy himself, he rose up, and commenced to slaughter a piece, which Harrison had just executed. There was an evident want of appreciation of his abilities, for he was hustled out in double-quick time. He then went to a bar-room, and called for something to drink, which deliberate act was the last circumstance he remembered, previous to recognizing Mr. Spout in his room in the afternoon of the following day, when he inquired of that gentleman if he wouldn't be so kind as to prevent the nigger boy from striking him on the head with a poker, as he thought he had done it long enough.
A vote of forgiveness to Mr. Quackenbush was carried, after which the entire club went to sleep.
"Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural."
hamlet
A FEW days after the events recorded in the last chapter, a new trick was invented to obtain under, false pretences, the money of the public. A number of needy and seedy individuals having been told that in England several of the most distinguished literary men in that country had given a few theatrical exhibitions with great success, conceived the plan of exhibiting, in a similar manner, in the city of New York, a number of authors, artists and other celebrities, admitting the public at twenty-five cents per head. That it might look less like a humbug, and by way of hiding, as far as possible, the swindle which was only too transparent, after all, it was announced that the living poets and painters would be shown all alive in secure cages, undergoing a periodical stirring-up by the keeper, and being benevolently fed in the presence of the spectators afterward.
Preparations had been made to secure the services of the biggest authors, the most notorious painters, the largest sized sculptors, the most melodious poets, and the most sanguinary editors the country could produce. The anxious world expected nothing less than to see the author of "Thanatopsis" appear as Hamlet in black-tights and a slouched hat—and he who invented "Evangeline" and "Hiawatha" come on as the Ghost with a pasteboard helmet and a horse-hair beard. Who should be Laertes but he who "skulped" the Greek Slave, or what editor could play "the king" like the democratic conductor of the Tribune? who, in assuming the crown, was to doff the white hat, "positively for one night only?" The Queen of Denmark would of course be represented by the architect of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," whose familiarity with courts and royalty would enable her to invest the character with life-like interest. The public had made up its mind to be content with no Ophelia except Ruth Hall, for no one else could play the crazy scenes so admirably. But alas for the expectations of the misguided public—the illustrious individuals aforesaid would not come, and consequently the public were compelled to witness the consummation of the dreadful tragedy, by authors whose works they had never heard of; painters whose productions were unknown to the world, and editors whom a close investigation resolved into obscure scribblers.
To this literary exhibition Overdale, Wagstaff, and John Spout resolved to go—Overdale to give the necessary explanations, Wagstaff to make a transcript of his friend's valuable remarks, and John Spout (himself an amateur artist) to see the celebrated men of his own profession, whose contributions to art had been so persistently kept out of sight.
The performance was to take place in the Academy of Music, a building designed and completed by a diabolically ingenious architect, who endeavored to construct a theatre in such a manner that one half the audience could not hear, and the other half could not see, and who succeeded to admiration.