Come to the green grove! where wild vines are clingingAround the tall elms, whose broad boughs are flingingTheir shade o'er the roof of the cottage so nearTo the banks of the streamlet meandering clear.There we'll recline 'neath the shade of the willow,Where roses and lilies have wreathed a sweet pillow,And the goldfinch concealed in the green boughs aboveIs warbling all day to his beautiful love.There we will watch the blithe humming-bird roving,And purple-winged butterflies fairy-like movingAmong the blue violets that bloom at our feet,And throw all around us their fragrance so sweet.There thou shalt sing, love, and then as I hear thee,Drink in thy soft tones, and know that I'm near thee,I'll fancy 'tis Eden around me I see,And thou art an angel to share it with me.
Come to the green grove! where wild vines are clingingAround the tall elms, whose broad boughs are flingingTheir shade o'er the roof of the cottage so nearTo the banks of the streamlet meandering clear.
Come to the green grove! where wild vines are clinging
Around the tall elms, whose broad boughs are flinging
Their shade o'er the roof of the cottage so near
To the banks of the streamlet meandering clear.
There we'll recline 'neath the shade of the willow,Where roses and lilies have wreathed a sweet pillow,And the goldfinch concealed in the green boughs aboveIs warbling all day to his beautiful love.
There we'll recline 'neath the shade of the willow,
Where roses and lilies have wreathed a sweet pillow,
And the goldfinch concealed in the green boughs above
Is warbling all day to his beautiful love.
There we will watch the blithe humming-bird roving,And purple-winged butterflies fairy-like movingAmong the blue violets that bloom at our feet,And throw all around us their fragrance so sweet.
There we will watch the blithe humming-bird roving,
And purple-winged butterflies fairy-like moving
Among the blue violets that bloom at our feet,
And throw all around us their fragrance so sweet.
There thou shalt sing, love, and then as I hear thee,Drink in thy soft tones, and know that I'm near thee,I'll fancy 'tis Eden around me I see,And thou art an angel to share it with me.
There thou shalt sing, love, and then as I hear thee,
Drink in thy soft tones, and know that I'm near thee,
I'll fancy 'tis Eden around me I see,
And thou art an angel to share it with me.
"Toney," said the Professor, "when the young lady hears that she will suppose that the spirit of a troubadour is warbling under her window. And now, Mr. Seddon."
Tom sang:
The green wood is ringing with mocking-birds' notes,And melody springing from turtle-doves' throats,And wild flowers growing so beautiful there,Their fragrance are throwing all over the air.But see! in yon bower, that wild vines inclose,A lovelier flower than lily or rose;Your beauties have vanished, ye lilies so fair,To her cheeks are banished; go seek for them there!Your sweetness, ye roses, which butterflies sip,Hath gone—it reposes upon her soft lip;Thy music, sweet dove, now no more thou'lt prolong!Oh, list to my love now! she's stolen thy song.
The green wood is ringing with mocking-birds' notes,And melody springing from turtle-doves' throats,And wild flowers growing so beautiful there,Their fragrance are throwing all over the air.
The green wood is ringing with mocking-birds' notes,
And melody springing from turtle-doves' throats,
And wild flowers growing so beautiful there,
Their fragrance are throwing all over the air.
But see! in yon bower, that wild vines inclose,A lovelier flower than lily or rose;Your beauties have vanished, ye lilies so fair,To her cheeks are banished; go seek for them there!
But see! in yon bower, that wild vines inclose,
A lovelier flower than lily or rose;
Your beauties have vanished, ye lilies so fair,
To her cheeks are banished; go seek for them there!
Your sweetness, ye roses, which butterflies sip,Hath gone—it reposes upon her soft lip;Thy music, sweet dove, now no more thou'lt prolong!Oh, list to my love now! she's stolen thy song.
Your sweetness, ye roses, which butterflies sip,
Hath gone—it reposes upon her soft lip;
Thy music, sweet dove, now no more thou'lt prolong!
Oh, list to my love now! she's stolen thy song.
"Mr. Seddon, the young lady will be persuaded that you are a twin brother to the troubadour," said the Professor.
"And now, Charley," said Toney, "we are waiting to hear you warble."
The Professor sang:
Come hasten with me, love,Come hasten away!Come haste to yon lea, love,Where flow'rets so gayTheir beauties have blended,As richly as though'Twere fragments all splendidOf yonder bright bow,By fairy hands rivenIn moments of mirth,And flung from yon heavenT' embellish the earth.Come haste to yon lea, love,Come hasten with me!And then thou shalt see, love,Naught fairer than thee.
Come hasten with me, love,Come hasten away!Come haste to yon lea, love,Where flow'rets so gay
Come hasten with me, love,
Come hasten away!
Come haste to yon lea, love,
Where flow'rets so gay
Their beauties have blended,As richly as though'Twere fragments all splendidOf yonder bright bow,
Their beauties have blended,
As richly as though
'Twere fragments all splendid
Of yonder bright bow,
By fairy hands rivenIn moments of mirth,And flung from yon heavenT' embellish the earth.
By fairy hands riven
In moments of mirth,
And flung from yon heaven
T' embellish the earth.
Come haste to yon lea, love,Come hasten with me!And then thou shalt see, love,Naught fairer than thee.
Come haste to yon lea, love,
Come hasten with me!
And then thou shalt see, love,
Naught fairer than thee.
"How do you expect her to see in the dark?" said Toney.
"Oh, she must have patience and wait until morning," said the Professor.
The serenaders now arose from their seats, and, proceeding across the field, soon entered the forest, which was traversed in various directions by paths made by the cattle that were accustomed to browse on the bushes. The path pursued by the party soon led them to a spot where the foliage was dense, and, entirely excluding the starlight, enveloped them in gloomy darkness. Tom Seddon now exclaimed,——
"Toney, why did you select this road? Let us go back. This is the very spot where a man was found, not long ago, with his throat cut, and three bullet-holes through his head."
"Horrible!" exclaimed Pate.
"Let us go back!" cried Wiggins.
"Numerous robberies and murders have been committed in this forest," said Tom. "In fact, it is infested by a gang of desperadoes. If we go on, none of us may ever return to Bella Vista alive."
"Oh! oh!" groaned Pate.
"Let us go back!" exclaimed Wiggins,—"I will not—ugh!"
There was a sudden flash from the bushes, followed by a loud report, and poor Tom dropped dead at the feet of M. T. Pate. Before a word could be uttered, another shot was fired, and Toney staggered against a tree and then fell to the ground with a groan.
"Run!—run!" exclaimed Pate.
"Run!—run!—run!" cried Wiggins.
"Run!—run!—run!—run!" said the Professor, when there was another report, and he exclaimed, falling to the earth, "Oh!—oh!—oh!—I am shot!—help!—help!—murder! murder!"
Pate and Wiggins fled through the forest with the murderers shouting and firing in their rear. As it happened, they soon became separated, and each got into a path which led him away from the other. After running with unexampled speed for some time, Pate suddenly found himselfon the back of some huge horned monster, which rose from the earth with a loud roar and galloped off with him. How far he rode on the back of his terrible courser he never could tell; but at last the creature leaped over the trunk of a fallen tree, and Pate rolled off and sank to the earth in a comatose condition, induced by extreme terror.
When he became conscious, he got up and wandered for hours, through the forest, lost and bewildered, and in the utmost dread of falling into the hands of the desperadoes, who had slain poor Toney, Tom, and the Professor. At length the day broke; and as he wandered on he espied some one coming towards him who had a most hideous appearance. Pate was about to turn and fly, when the man called to him, and he recognized the voice of William Wiggins.
Wiggins had fled in headlong haste until he had emerged from the forest, and entered an inclosure surrounding a farm-house. Here he was so unfortunate as to overturn a bee-hive and was so badly stung by the infuriated insects that he rushed blindly around, and got among the poultry. Hearing the commotion among his fowls, the farmer came out with a club, and vigorously belabored the supposed thief, until the latter escaped, and fled back to the forest, with his face shockingly swollen by the stings of the bees, and his body terribly bruised by the blows from the farmer's cudgel.
When Wiggins had told his doleful story, Pate proceeded to relate how he had been carried off on the back of some horned monster, which had suddenly risen out of the earth, and must have been the devil. It now being broad daylight, they succeeded in finding the way to the town, where they told a tale of horror to the landlord at the hotel. But while they were describing the bloody murder in the forest, the landlord, with a smile, pointed out Toney, Tom, and the Professor standing on the opposite side of the street, in the midst of a group of young men, who were laughing immoderately at something which was being told. Pate and Wiggins were now informed that they had been made the victims of a singular custom, which was peculiar to that locality, and was termed, "running a greenhorn." Apprehensive ofthe ridicule which would be heaped upon them, they immediately took their departure from the beautiful town of Bella Vista.
"The Funny Philosophers have caused the exodus of the Seven Sweethearts," said the Professor, as the three friends sat in Toney's room in the hotel the morning subsequent to the departure of Pate and Wiggins.
"Our sect must flourish," said Toney.
"And Pate's big bald head will not be seen bobbing about in Bella Vista," said Tom.
"Mr. Seddon, you should not speak irreverently of bald heads," said the Professor. "Remember the forty irreverent young lads and the she-bears, and learn that bald-headed people are under the especial protection of Providence. I am partially bald myself, and am under the impression that this calamity came upon me in consequence of my having once deprived an unfortunate individual of his hair."
"Did what?" exclaimed Toney.
"On one occasion I helped to scalp a man," said the Professor, gravely and mournfully.
"Helped to scalp a man!" exclaimed Seddon.
"I am sorry to say that I did, Mr. Seddon," said the Professor.
"How was it?" asked Toney.
"It is a strange story," said the Professor.
"Let us have it," said Seddon.
"Some years ago," said the Professor, "I was on a steamboat going down one of the large rivers in the South-west. The boat stopped at a landing and a big fellow came on board. He was a rough, unpolished individual, with long hair reaching down to his shoulders. He appeared to be in a bad humor with himself and with all mankind; being one of those peculiar specimens of humanity who believe that the whole duty of man is tofight. As soon as he came on board it was apparent to the passengers that he was a bully in quest of a quarrel. But everybody avoided him, and for a long while he was unsuccessful in finding what he was seeking for. Finally, however, his perseverance was amply rewarded. The bell rang for dinner, and there was a rush for the saloon. The bully seated himself at the head of the table. At intervals, among the dishes, were a number of apple-pies. 'Waiter,' exclaimed the bully, 'bring me that pie.' It was placed before him. 'And that one,' said he. The waiter obeyed, and the bully reiterated his order until he had every apple-pie on the table directly under his nose."
"The glutton!" said Toney.
"Did he eat all the pies?" asked Tom.
"No, Mr. Seddon, he did not," said the Professor. "Having collected all the pies before him, he sternly glanced at the two rows of indignant faces along the table. He saw anger in every eye; a frown upon every brow; but not a word had been spoken. There was a dead silence, when the bully brought down his fist on the table with tremendous force, and fiercely shouted, 'I say that any man who don't like good apple-pie is a d—d rascal!' This was more than human nature could endure. In an instant every man was on his feet. The table was overturned, and hams, and turkeys, and roast-pigs rolled on the floor. There was a general fight. Pistols exploded, bowie-knives were brandished, and fists flourished!"
"All endeavoring to get at the daring monopolizer of the apple-pies, I suppose?" said Tom.
"By no means, Mr. Seddon," said the Professor. "There was promiscuous fighting. Many who had no opportunity of dealing a blow at the bully, fought and pommeled one another. I retreated to a corner."
"But what became of the bully?" asked Toney.
"I was about to tell you. As I stood on the defensive, warding off the blows which were occasionally aimed at me, I saw a huge head coming towards me like a battering-ram, the body to which it belonged being propelled by kicks in the rear. The head was about to come in contact with this portion of my anatomy—what do youcall it?" said the Professor, placing his hand on the part designated.
"The bread-basket," said Toney.
"No, that is not it," said the Professor.
"The abdomen," said Tom.
"That's the scientific term," said the Professor. "In order to protect my abdomen from injury, I involuntarily reached out and convulsively grasped the head by its long hair. As I did so, a bowie-knife descended and shaved off the scalp, leaving it, with its long locks, in my grasp."
"What did you do with your trophy?" asked Toney.
"I rushed from the saloon, yelling like an Indian, with the scalp in my hand. It belonged to the bully. He soon came upon deck howling for his hair."
"Did you restore it to the owner?" asked Tom.
"No," said the Professor. "To the victor belong the spoils. I escaped into the cook's galley, and carefully wrapped the scalp in some loose sheets of the Terrific Register, and put it in my pocket, and afterwards transferred it to my trunk. It is now in the possession of the learned Professor Boneskull, who has been informed by his oracle that it was one of the trophies found by the Kentuckians in the possession of the celebrated Tecumseh when he was slain in battle."
"But the bully?" said Toney. "I am interested in his fate."
"He was like Samson. The loss of his hair seemed to deprive him of strength and courage. His belligerency departed from him. He became quiet and orderly, and during the rest of the passage never meddled with the apple-pies, but behaved with perfect decorum. He was soon afterwards seen on the anxious bench at a camp-meeting, and he is now a bald-headed Methodist preacher, remarkable for his piety and mild and dovelike disposition."
"The loss of his locks seems to have been of essential service to him," said Seddon.
"I wish, however, that I had given him back his hair," said the Professor. "I suffered severely in consequence of depriving him of it."
"In what way?" inquired Tom.
"It was retribution, I suppose," said the Professor. "As soon as I had pocketed the fellow's hair I began to lose my own. It fell out by handfuls, and in a few months I had a bald patch on the top of my head of ample area. It made me melancholy and poetical."
"I must confess that I cannot perceive any necessary connection between a bald head and poetry," said Toney.
"Why, Toney, my dear fellow," said the Professor, "you must know that when a man gets a bald pate he naturally begins to think of domestic bliss and connubial felicity, which are poetical subjects. If he meditates long on these subjects, versification will be the inevitable result. It was so in my case. As I titillated the top of my bald head with my forefinger, I plainly perceived that the time had come for me to marry. So, like a bird on Saint Valentine's day, I began to look around for a mate."
"You were like Dobbs, seeking for an angel and seven sweet little cherubs," said Tom.
"No, Mr. Seddon, I was seeking for a dovelike little woman, and I thought I had found one. In my imagination Dora was like a gentle white dove. I cooed around her, and courted for weeks, and wrote some verses in her album. I remember them well."
"I would like to hear them," said Toney.
"They can be produced from the archives of my memory," said the Professor; and he recited the following verses:
When morn had sown her orient gems among the golden flowersThat blushed upon their purple stalks in fairy-haunted bowers,Among the glowing throng around, a tender bud I spied,That meekly held its humble place the verdant walk beside.No gaudy beauties decked its crest with variegated dyes,Like blinding splendors blazing o'er the summer's evening skies;With simple moss encircled round, it hung its head to earth,And yet in Flora's language it denotes superior worth.And—what from poet's eye is hid, by others though unseen?—It was the favorite palace of the lovely Fairy Queen;Adown its tender petals oft her tiny chariot rolled,And she within its fragrant folds her Elfin court did hold.'Twas then I thought of one who blooms 'mid beauty's living flowers,Like this sweet bud among its mates within the garden's bowers,With unassuming, modest grace—her charms she never knew—Superior worth her brightest charm. And, lady, is it you?
When morn had sown her orient gems among the golden flowersThat blushed upon their purple stalks in fairy-haunted bowers,Among the glowing throng around, a tender bud I spied,That meekly held its humble place the verdant walk beside.
When morn had sown her orient gems among the golden flowers
That blushed upon their purple stalks in fairy-haunted bowers,
Among the glowing throng around, a tender bud I spied,
That meekly held its humble place the verdant walk beside.
No gaudy beauties decked its crest with variegated dyes,Like blinding splendors blazing o'er the summer's evening skies;With simple moss encircled round, it hung its head to earth,And yet in Flora's language it denotes superior worth.
No gaudy beauties decked its crest with variegated dyes,
Like blinding splendors blazing o'er the summer's evening skies;
With simple moss encircled round, it hung its head to earth,
And yet in Flora's language it denotes superior worth.
And—what from poet's eye is hid, by others though unseen?—It was the favorite palace of the lovely Fairy Queen;Adown its tender petals oft her tiny chariot rolled,And she within its fragrant folds her Elfin court did hold.
And—what from poet's eye is hid, by others though unseen?—
It was the favorite palace of the lovely Fairy Queen;
Adown its tender petals oft her tiny chariot rolled,
And she within its fragrant folds her Elfin court did hold.
'Twas then I thought of one who blooms 'mid beauty's living flowers,Like this sweet bud among its mates within the garden's bowers,With unassuming, modest grace—her charms she never knew—Superior worth her brightest charm. And, lady, is it you?
'Twas then I thought of one who blooms 'mid beauty's living flowers,
Like this sweet bud among its mates within the garden's bowers,
With unassuming, modest grace—her charms she never knew—
Superior worth her brightest charm. And, lady, is it you?
"I read these verses to Dora, and then I asked her the question propounded in the last line."
"What did she say?" inquired Tom.
"She said no!"
"Perhaps she was offended by the comparison to so humble a flower," said Seddon.
"It may have been so," said the Professor. "I then asked her a question in relation to the annexation of our destinies."
"What did she say?" asked Toney.
"She said no! I then asked her again in more unequivocal terms. I told her that I was seeking for domestic bliss and connubial felicity, and earnestly inquired if she would not assist me in the search."
"What was her reply?" asked Tom.
"She said no! And this time the dovelike Dora laughed in my face."
"After having answered no three times?" said Tom.
"Three negatives do not make an affirmative, Mr. Seddon, especially when the final negation to your very serious and sentimental proposal is accompanied by laughter. I was mortified and angry, and so I hurried home——"
"To do like Perch—procure a pint of laudanum?" inquired Toney.
"Not at all," said the Professor. "Upon arriving at my homestead I ate a very hearty dinner; for I was hungry and had a wolfish appetite; after which I immediately went into the arms of Morpheus. I did not wake until next morning, when, as I stood before a mirror making my toilet, I perceived that the bald patch on my head was considerably enlarged. A fit of melancholy and poetry came upon me, and resulted in the production of some verses, which, with your permission, I will repeat."
"Do so," said Toney.
"By all means!" said Seddon.
"It is a simple little ballad," said the Professor, "in which I endeavored to mingle as much pathos as did Goldsmith in his Hermit. Its recitation has often drawn tears from very obdurate individuals, and, gentlemen, I now notify you to produce your pocket-handkerchiefs."
The Professor then recited the following stanzas:
The gentle spring is breathingIts fragrance all around,Rich with the scent of flow'retsThat blossom o'er the ground;As if the glorious rainbow,When thunders rolled on high,Had parted into fragmentsAnd fallen from the sky,And scattered o'er the meadows,And through the orchards green,Its variegated colorsTo beautify the scene;The while, on golden winglets,The humming-bird so gay,Moves with a fairy motion,And rifles sweets away:So rich his purple plumage,So beautiful his crest,'Tis to the eye of fancyAs if some amethyst,Carved into a bright jewelAll gloriously to deck,With its surpassing splendors,Some lovely lady's neck,Hath felt the life-blood flowingFrom a mysterious spring,And fled a gaudy truantUpon a golden wing,Filled with a fairy spiritTo sport upon the air,With never-tiring pinionsAmong the flow'rets fair.Adown the sloping mountain,Where wave the ceders green,And ever-verdant laurelIn blooming clusters seen,Leaps the wild, flashing streamletWith a loud shout of mirth,As though some mine of silver,Deep buried in the earth,By hidden fires were meltedWithin its gloomy caves,And from its dark cell bursting,With its translucent waves,Now sparkles in the sunbeam,Now hid by ivy's shade,Till o'er a steep ledge pouring,It forms a wild cascade,Where, dashed into bright fragments,It glitters in the beam,And with its brilliant colorsUnto the eye doth seem,That showers of liquid rubies,And molten gems of gold,With sapphire and with amber,In mingling waves are rolledO'er these high rocks in torrentsUnto the vale below,Then gain a course of smoothness,And gently on do flow'Mid banks of blooming rosesAnd snow-white lilies fair,Where butterflies are floatingUpon the balmy air,With many-colored winglets,O'er fragrant violets blue,And gayly sip their nectarMixed with the honey'd dew;To gaze upon their beauties'Twould seem as if some fay,When roving through some gardenUpon a sunny day,Had waved his wand of magicO'er rose and tulip bright,That filled with life had startedUpon a joyous flight,And down the grassy meadows,And 'mid the blooming trees,To visit now their kindred,Are floating on the breeze:While from the woodland's thicketsAt intervals are heardThe soft, melodious musicOf the sweet mocking-bird;Which from those green recessesEchoes the merry notes,The little feathered songstersPour from their warbling throats.Thus nature ever smiling,Each living creature gaySeems filled with sunny gladnessThroughout the cloudless day;While I, a lonely bachelor,Do bear a bleeding heart,Just like a wounded wild goatWhen stricken by a dart.I've seen each tie dissolvingOf love and friendship sweet,Like lumps of sugar-candyWhen held unto the heat:My friends they all proved traitors,—I'm told it's always so,—Fidelity's a strangerIn this rude world below.They smoked my best havanasAnd drank my best champagne,And borrowed many a dollarThey ne'er returned again:But soon as fortune left me,They all deserted too—They made me half a Timon—The sycophantic crew!I turned from man to woman—Sweet woman to admire!But from the pan 'twas leapingInto the blazing fire!I met a lovely maiden,Who looked so very kind,I thought she was an angel,But I was very blind!Like a deceitful siren,She led me far astray;I wandered in love's mazesUntil I lost my way;But when I knelt to worship,Why, then she laughed outright—I told her I was dying,And Dora said I might.At that I grew quite angry,And feeling partly cured,Went home and ate my dinner,And then was quite restored:I ate six apple-dumplings,Then laid me down to sleep,Nor woke until next morning,Then from my couch did creep,And gazing in the mirror,The sight my soul appall'd,For I beheld with horrorThat I was growing bald:Since then I've known no pleasure!Man's treachery I could bear,And the deceits of woman,But not the loss of hair!
The gentle spring is breathingIts fragrance all around,Rich with the scent of flow'retsThat blossom o'er the ground;As if the glorious rainbow,When thunders rolled on high,Had parted into fragmentsAnd fallen from the sky,
The gentle spring is breathing
Its fragrance all around,
Rich with the scent of flow'rets
That blossom o'er the ground;
As if the glorious rainbow,
When thunders rolled on high,
Had parted into fragments
And fallen from the sky,
And scattered o'er the meadows,And through the orchards green,Its variegated colorsTo beautify the scene;The while, on golden winglets,The humming-bird so gay,Moves with a fairy motion,And rifles sweets away:
And scattered o'er the meadows,
And through the orchards green,
Its variegated colors
To beautify the scene;
The while, on golden winglets,
The humming-bird so gay,
Moves with a fairy motion,
And rifles sweets away:
So rich his purple plumage,So beautiful his crest,'Tis to the eye of fancyAs if some amethyst,Carved into a bright jewelAll gloriously to deck,With its surpassing splendors,Some lovely lady's neck,
So rich his purple plumage,
So beautiful his crest,
'Tis to the eye of fancy
As if some amethyst,
Carved into a bright jewel
All gloriously to deck,
With its surpassing splendors,
Some lovely lady's neck,
Hath felt the life-blood flowingFrom a mysterious spring,And fled a gaudy truantUpon a golden wing,Filled with a fairy spiritTo sport upon the air,With never-tiring pinionsAmong the flow'rets fair.
Hath felt the life-blood flowing
From a mysterious spring,
And fled a gaudy truant
Upon a golden wing,
Filled with a fairy spirit
To sport upon the air,
With never-tiring pinions
Among the flow'rets fair.
Adown the sloping mountain,Where wave the ceders green,And ever-verdant laurelIn blooming clusters seen,Leaps the wild, flashing streamletWith a loud shout of mirth,As though some mine of silver,Deep buried in the earth,
Adown the sloping mountain,
Where wave the ceders green,
And ever-verdant laurel
In blooming clusters seen,
Leaps the wild, flashing streamlet
With a loud shout of mirth,
As though some mine of silver,
Deep buried in the earth,
By hidden fires were meltedWithin its gloomy caves,And from its dark cell bursting,With its translucent waves,Now sparkles in the sunbeam,Now hid by ivy's shade,Till o'er a steep ledge pouring,It forms a wild cascade,
By hidden fires were melted
Within its gloomy caves,
And from its dark cell bursting,
With its translucent waves,
Now sparkles in the sunbeam,
Now hid by ivy's shade,
Till o'er a steep ledge pouring,
It forms a wild cascade,
Where, dashed into bright fragments,It glitters in the beam,And with its brilliant colorsUnto the eye doth seem,That showers of liquid rubies,And molten gems of gold,With sapphire and with amber,In mingling waves are rolled
Where, dashed into bright fragments,
It glitters in the beam,
And with its brilliant colors
Unto the eye doth seem,
That showers of liquid rubies,
And molten gems of gold,
With sapphire and with amber,
In mingling waves are rolled
O'er these high rocks in torrentsUnto the vale below,Then gain a course of smoothness,And gently on do flow'Mid banks of blooming rosesAnd snow-white lilies fair,Where butterflies are floatingUpon the balmy air,
O'er these high rocks in torrents
Unto the vale below,
Then gain a course of smoothness,
And gently on do flow
'Mid banks of blooming roses
And snow-white lilies fair,
Where butterflies are floating
Upon the balmy air,
With many-colored winglets,O'er fragrant violets blue,And gayly sip their nectarMixed with the honey'd dew;To gaze upon their beauties'Twould seem as if some fay,When roving through some gardenUpon a sunny day,
With many-colored winglets,
O'er fragrant violets blue,
And gayly sip their nectar
Mixed with the honey'd dew;
To gaze upon their beauties
'Twould seem as if some fay,
When roving through some garden
Upon a sunny day,
Had waved his wand of magicO'er rose and tulip bright,That filled with life had startedUpon a joyous flight,And down the grassy meadows,And 'mid the blooming trees,To visit now their kindred,Are floating on the breeze:
Had waved his wand of magic
O'er rose and tulip bright,
That filled with life had started
Upon a joyous flight,
And down the grassy meadows,
And 'mid the blooming trees,
To visit now their kindred,
Are floating on the breeze:
While from the woodland's thicketsAt intervals are heardThe soft, melodious musicOf the sweet mocking-bird;Which from those green recessesEchoes the merry notes,The little feathered songstersPour from their warbling throats.
While from the woodland's thickets
At intervals are heard
The soft, melodious music
Of the sweet mocking-bird;
Which from those green recesses
Echoes the merry notes,
The little feathered songsters
Pour from their warbling throats.
Thus nature ever smiling,Each living creature gaySeems filled with sunny gladnessThroughout the cloudless day;While I, a lonely bachelor,Do bear a bleeding heart,Just like a wounded wild goatWhen stricken by a dart.
Thus nature ever smiling,
Each living creature gay
Seems filled with sunny gladness
Throughout the cloudless day;
While I, a lonely bachelor,
Do bear a bleeding heart,
Just like a wounded wild goat
When stricken by a dart.
I've seen each tie dissolvingOf love and friendship sweet,Like lumps of sugar-candyWhen held unto the heat:My friends they all proved traitors,—I'm told it's always so,—Fidelity's a strangerIn this rude world below.
I've seen each tie dissolving
Of love and friendship sweet,
Like lumps of sugar-candy
When held unto the heat:
My friends they all proved traitors,—
I'm told it's always so,—
Fidelity's a stranger
In this rude world below.
They smoked my best havanasAnd drank my best champagne,And borrowed many a dollarThey ne'er returned again:But soon as fortune left me,They all deserted too—They made me half a Timon—The sycophantic crew!
They smoked my best havanas
And drank my best champagne,
And borrowed many a dollar
They ne'er returned again:
But soon as fortune left me,
They all deserted too—
They made me half a Timon—
The sycophantic crew!
I turned from man to woman—Sweet woman to admire!But from the pan 'twas leapingInto the blazing fire!I met a lovely maiden,Who looked so very kind,I thought she was an angel,But I was very blind!
I turned from man to woman—
Sweet woman to admire!
But from the pan 'twas leaping
Into the blazing fire!
I met a lovely maiden,
Who looked so very kind,
I thought she was an angel,
But I was very blind!
Like a deceitful siren,She led me far astray;I wandered in love's mazesUntil I lost my way;But when I knelt to worship,Why, then she laughed outright—I told her I was dying,And Dora said I might.
Like a deceitful siren,
She led me far astray;
I wandered in love's mazes
Until I lost my way;
But when I knelt to worship,
Why, then she laughed outright—
I told her I was dying,
And Dora said I might.
At that I grew quite angry,And feeling partly cured,Went home and ate my dinner,And then was quite restored:I ate six apple-dumplings,Then laid me down to sleep,Nor woke until next morning,Then from my couch did creep,
At that I grew quite angry,
And feeling partly cured,
Went home and ate my dinner,
And then was quite restored:
I ate six apple-dumplings,
Then laid me down to sleep,
Nor woke until next morning,
Then from my couch did creep,
And gazing in the mirror,The sight my soul appall'd,For I beheld with horrorThat I was growing bald:Since then I've known no pleasure!Man's treachery I could bear,And the deceits of woman,But not the loss of hair!
And gazing in the mirror,
The sight my soul appall'd,
For I beheld with horror
That I was growing bald:
Since then I've known no pleasure!
Man's treachery I could bear,
And the deceits of woman,
But not the loss of hair!
"Goldsmith never wrote anything like that," said Seddon.
"Nor Tennyson, neither," said Toney.
"Tennyson be hanged!" exclaimed Tom. "I'll match Tickle against him any day."
"The composition of this poem fully developed my poetical genius," said the Professor. "I discovered that I could be a bard; and so I composed a whole book of poems."
"What did you do with it?" asked Toney.
"I published it," said the Professor. "Did you never hear of it?"
"I must candidly admit that I never did," said Toney.
"The critics cut and slashed away at my little book for about a month; and then they let it alone. It was not until several years after its publication that I heard a word in its praise; and that was under peculiar circumstances. I was looking over a lot of second-hand books on a stall at the corner of a street, when I discovered my own poems. I asked the price. The man said it was a work of rare genius and very scarce, but that as a favor I could have it for a dollar. This sounded like posthumous praise, and was very flattering. So I bought the book, and you can read it at your leisure."
"Now we are on literary subjects," said Seddon, "I must remind Toney of his promise to read his biography of Pate."
"Of whom?" asked the Professor.
"Of M. T. Pate, the illustrious founder of the Mystic Order of Seven Sweethearts," said Seddon. "Toney has written his biography."
"Only one chapter," said Toney. "I can clearly foresee that Pate is destined to become a very distinguishedman. As he makes materials for his biography the work will progress. The first chapter has been written."
"Read it," said Tom.
"Read it! read it!" exclaimed the Professor.
In compliance with the wishes of his two friends, Toney drew from a trunk his manuscript, and laying it on a table before him, said, "You will perceive, gentlemen, that in my first chapter of this biography I speak of Pate as an eminent personage. This requires a word of explanation. Pate may not yet be considered as a very eminent man, but before the completion and publication of the work I am confident that he will rank among the most distinguished personages of the age; and that the adjective which I have used will then be recognized as strictly appropriate."
With these prefatory remarks, Toney proceeded to read as follows:
"We have been baffled in our efforts to obtain satisfactory information in relation to the birthplace of the eminent personage whose biography we have undertaken to write. It is known that he was born somewhere in the South; but whether among the cotton-plantations of the Carolinas or the tobacco-fields on the borders of the Chesapeake, we have never been able to ascertain. It is said that the honor of having been the natal place of the immortal Mæonides was claimed by seven famous cities of ancient Greece; and it may be that, in future ages, at least seven States of the South will contend for the great glory of having produced the illustrious M. T. Pate. It is perhaps fortunate that at the period of his birth the number of those States did not exceed seven; otherwise a satisfactory adjustment of the apprehended difficulty would be even more hopeless than it is at present.
"It is equally out of our power to designate theparticular period when this eminent man entered the world in which he was destined to make so remarkable a figure. There is a tradition that he was born in the year of the embargo; and the inability of the administration of that day to prohibit all kinds of importations, seems to have been a fortunate circumstance at the very commencement of his career. It is said that he was a very big baby at his advent, and grew prodigiously, but was remarkable for his gravity, to such a degree that the wise women who assembled in frequent consultations around the cradle used to asseverate, with much emphasis of expression, that he looked as grave as a judge. One of his parents was pious, and both were respectable; and at the proper period he was brought to the baptismal font and Christianized with the usual solemnities. Some difficulty was encountered in the selection of a name. An elderly maiden lady, a friend of the family, had predicted that he would be a bishop, and now insisted that he should have a scriptural name, as most appropriate for one who was destined to occupy the very highest position in the church. The male head of the family had been perusing an odd volume of the History of Greece, in which he was much interested, and was desirous of naming his heir after one of the heroes of that classic land. These opposite views led to many warm discussions, which eventually resulted in a judicious compromise, it being agreed that the wonderful baby should have two names, and that each party should select one of them. So the good old lady seated herself, and putting on her spectacles, opened the Bible at the Book of Daniel where the King of Babylon was put into the pasture-fields. She was much struck with the passage, and proposed the name of Nebuchadnezzar, as exceedingly sonorous and quite uncommon. To this a serious objection was urged by the old gentleman, who sagaciously remarked that the name was so long that nobody would ever give the boy the whole of it, and he would be nicknamed Nebby or Neb. This suggestion had its effect, and the pious old lady proceeded to search the Scriptures again, and finally selected the name of Matthew, saying that, in her opinion, he was about the best of all the apostles, although he had once been apublican, for he was the first one of them who had ever thought of writing a gospel. So the boy was named Matthew Themistocles, after an evangelist and a heathen; as if he were destined to combine in his character the opposite qualities of a saint and a sinner.
"It is believed that even in the cradle this robust and remarkable baby gave evidence of superior intelligence; and it is much to be regretted that he had no admiring Boswell at that early period of his existence to describe his extraordinary doings. But no historian ever makes a record of the wisdom which proceeds from the mouths of babes and sucklings; and when we behold the learned and illustrious man swaying mighty masses by his eloquence, or dignifying and adorning the bench, imagination finds it difficult to travel back and discover him in the cradle, so puny and insignificant that the portly old crier of the court could have enveloped him in his handkerchief, like a bit of bread or cheese, and stowed him in the capacious pocket of his overcoat.
"When the moon stood still in the valley of Ajalon, the people on the other side of the hills knew not that a great luminary was in their immediate neighborhood. But when she got in motion and slowly arose, until her silvery edges were seen above the surfaces of the surrounding eminences, the crowds began to collect and watch with absorbing interest the increasing proportions of the magnificent phenomenon. And when, in full effulgence, she was over the tops of the trees, all admired her splendor, and many began to dispute about her apparent size: some saying that she seemed to them as big as an ordinary platter; others, that she was equal in dimensions to a fine large cheese; while a few affirmed that her circumference was as great as that of the wheel of the war-chariot of Joshua, the son of Nun. Thus has it been with each intellectual light which has shone on the world; at one time hid in the vale of obscurity,—in the valley of Ajalon,—then surmounting the intervening obstacles, the first rays of the rising luminary are seen, and people begin to talk and admire, until finally it becomes visible in full-orbed splendor, when a variety of opinions are heard in reference to its actual magnitude.We once heard an old lawyer, who waslaudator temporis acti, assert with savage emphasis that a certain occupant of the bench was 'a picayune judge,' thus intimating that this splendid luminary of the law did not seem to him bigger than an insignificant five-penny bit. But the eyes of old men are weak and watery, and not to be trusted. Some of the junior members of the legal fraternity said that he was as large as a dinner plate; others were of opinion that he had attained the size of an ordinary cheese; while many of the non-professional multitude loudly asserted that he was fully equal in magnitude to the hindmost wheel of an omnibus.
"During several years after he had emerged from babyhood, M. T. Pate was hidden from public observation, and hoed corn in the valley of Ajalon. Here he laid a permanent foundation for that powerful constitution which has enabled him to perform the Herculean labors of his later years. His constant exercise in the open air gave him the extraordinary appetite which clung to him so faithfully amidst all the misfortunes of life. It also strengthened his digestion, and enabled him to consume enormous quantities of food without the slightest inconvenience. It is said that he was extremely fond of buttermilk, and would loiter around the dairy on churning days to obtain a supply. When he could not get buttermilk, he was contented with bonny-clabber and cottage-cheese. Many a sickly youth in our large cities would be benefited by such a system of diet, and might become a stout, athletic man, instead of looking like a puny exotic, soon to wither and fade away. Vigorous constitutions are necessary to enable men to conquer in the great battle of life; and nearly every distinguished personage in this country, from George Washington to Daniel Webster, was born and reared amidst rural scenery.
"Nourished on buttermilk and bonny-clabber, M. T. Pate grew rapidly, and becoming quite a big boy, began to exercise the privilege of thinking for himself. His sagacious intuition, even at that early age, enabled him to perceive that although the cultivation of the soil was an honorable, useful, and healthful occupation, its tendency to increase his pecuniary resources was exceedinglydoubtful, as there was no probability that he would ever become the owner of a farm, either by descent or purchase. So he determined to engage in mercantile pursuits, as offering greater facilities for the speedy acquisition of wealth. With this end in view, he went into a store in which crockery was sold; and here he remained during three entire years, first in the capacity of shop-boy and afterwards as salesman.
"While thus actively engaged in commerce, his industry was untiring and his economy almost without a precedent. In those early days of his eventful career this eminent man was frequently seen on the street following a customer and carrying articles of crockery-ware which had been purchased. On one occasion he met with a serious misfortune; for while walking in the wake of an old gentlewoman, and carrying in his hand a vessel intended for her sleeping apartment, he inadvertently trod on an orange-peeling, and was precipitated forward on the pavement with such force as to break the brittle piece of pottery into atoms and cause the blood to stream from his nostrils. This was the only occasion on which he ever received a reprimand from his employer; and he bore the severe trial with fortitude and resignation.
"For services rendered on various occasions, he frequently received gratuities from the purchasers at the store; and having resolved to become rich as rapidly as possible, he procured a little brown jug with an opening in its side, just wide enough to admit a quarter of a dollar edgewise. In this treasury he carefully deposited his earnings; and had it not been for this commendable economy, the world might never have seen him in the exalted positions which he afterwards occupied; for a commercial crisis occurring, the store was closed, and, like a ship struck by a sudden squall, he was thrown on his beam-end. But the solid contents of the little brown jug afforded him sufficient ballast, and he thus succeeded in gallantly weathering the storm.
"A great man, struggling with adversity, is a spectacle upon which the good-natured old gods of Greece and Rome are said to have gazed with more than ordinary interest. It is impossible to imagine a more sublimeexample of patience and perseverance than that exhibited by M. T. Pate in his early days, when he first broke open his little brown jug and counted his coppers and quarters. His rigid economy had resulted in a considerable accumulation of coin, and an accurate enumeration of the contents of his treasury exhibited the sum of two hundred and sixty-four dollars and thirty-seven and a half cents, all in specie. With these resources he determined to begin the battle of life in earnest, and to become a great man as speedily and as cheaply as possible. The pious old lady, who had furnished him with one of his names, now urged him to enter upon a course of theological studies, so that she might soon have the satisfaction of seeing him in holy orders and on the high road to a bishopric. But upon inquiry, he ascertained that to become a bishop it would be necessary for him to understand Hebrew as well as Greek; and he was apprehensive that before he could master even the rudiments of those difficult languages the accumulations of his industry and economy would be entirely exhausted. The good old lady promised him pecuniary assistance, and thus encouraged he began with the Greek; but his hopes were soon blasted by a singular misfortune, which deprived the church of one of its brightest ornaments, and multitudes of sinners of the counsel and consoling advice of a learned, pious, and venerated pastor. Upon a bright morning in May, as he sat at an open window, repeating the letters of Cadmus aloud, his benefactress, who was in the garden below with a negro servant named Alfred, engaged in horticultural pursuits, was shocked by hearing certain sounds, which in her ignorance and simplicity she supposed to be of terrible significance. She rushed into the house and began to upbraid the astonished student with his base ingratitude and treachery. In vain did the unfortunate victim of her lamentable ignorance protest his entire innocence. She had the highest kind of evidence—that of her own senses—against the plea of not guilty. Had she not heard him say, and reiterate it again and again, 'Alfred, beat her! d—d her! pelt her?' She would listen to no explanation, but indignantly ordered him to get out of her house. Her angerburned perpetually, like the lamp of a vestal virgin, and from that time forth she would have nothing to say to him. Thus was the unlucky youth thrown once more upon his beam-end, and was compelled to abandon all hope of ever becoming a bishop."
Here the reading was interrupted by Tom Seddon, who exclaimed,—
"Toney, you had better leave that out. Nobody will believe that Pate, who was about to commence his theological studies, would sit on the sill of the window and swear so profanely at the pious old lady in the garden——"
Tom was here interrupted by a loud laugh from the Professor.
"You do not see the point," said Toney.
"What is it?" asked Tom.
"Why," said the Professor, "Pate was repeating the first four Greek letters, Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, and the old woman supposed that he was swearing."
"Oh, that's it!" said Tom. "I was dull, indeed!"
"But," said the Professor, "I think that I have heard this anecdote before."
"Undoubtedly you have," said Toney. "Pate is a much older man than you. He was the unlucky student who met with this sad misfortune. It happened when you were in your nurse's arms. You heard the anecdote after you grew up, but never learned until now that the student was M. T. Pate. But shall I resume my reading?"
"Do so," said the Professor. "I am much interested."
Toney took up the manuscript, and read:
"Having been constrained to give up the gospel, he determined to betake himself to the study of law, in which a knowledge neither of Hebrew nor of Greek was necessary. Having labored at Latin for a few weeks, he entered a law-school, where he continued for some time; the contents of the little brown jug miraculously holding out like the oil in the widow's cruse, owing to his great economy. It is not to be supposed that even this able jurist could without an earnest effort overcome everyobstacle which lies in the path of the student of law. On the contrary, when he first encountered Coke, he was much discouraged and sometimes afflicted with fits of despondency. But plucking up courage, he went vigorously to work, and in six weeks had mastered all the learning of that great and voluminous author which he believed it possible for any human intellect ever to comprehend. In performing this Herculean labor he scratched a considerable quantity of hair from his head; and continuing this singular practice during the whole course of his studies, before he had finished the fourth book of Blackstone,
his scalp'sBald, barren surface shone like the bare Alps."
his scalp'sBald, barren surface shone like the bare Alps."
his scalp's
Bald, barren surface shone like the bare Alps."
"In other words, he became a bald Pate," said Tom.
"Mr. Seddon," said the Professor, "you are strangely forgetful of the admonition to speak reverently when you refer to a depilous cranium. Now, here you are punning with the most unbecoming levity on a nude noddle. You had better beware! Although there are no she-bears in this vicinity to perform their painful duty, you may not escape with impunity."
"Peccavi," said Tom.
"Absolution is granted;" said the Professor. "Toney, proceed with the reading."
Toney resumed:
"A celebrated Irish barrister attributed his success in the profession to the fact that he started without property of any sort save only a pair of hair-trigger pistols. M. T. Pate carried no carnal weapons. He had neither hair-trigger pistols nor much hair on his head; but he had a little learning, which is said to be a dangerous thing. When he was admitted to practice, the contents of the little brown jug had been expended; and he started in his profession with a vigorous constitution and a small volume of legal lore, entitled 'Every Man his own Lawyer.'
"The members of the legal fraternity are indebted to M. T. Pate for an important discovery immediately subsequent to his admission to the bar. We are told—
There is a language in each flowerThat opens to the eye;A voiceless but a magic powerDoth in earth's blossoms lie,
There is a language in each flowerThat opens to the eye;A voiceless but a magic powerDoth in earth's blossoms lie,
There is a language in each flower
That opens to the eye;
A voiceless but a magic power
Doth in earth's blossoms lie,
and we find that the poet selects as an appropriate symbol of his delightful occupation 'the dew-sweet eglantine.' The soldier chooses
The deathless laurel as the victor's due.
The deathless laurel as the victor's due.
The deathless laurel as the victor's due.
The young maiden selects the rosebud, and the weeping widow the cypress. The lover's flower is the myrtle; the player's, the hyacinth; the pugilist's, the fennel. But there never was a symbol for the legal profession until the sagacity of M. T. Pate discovered it in thearbutus unedo, or strawberry, which, upon a careful perusal of Flora's lexicon, he found to be emblematic of perseverance. And as the gladiators of ancient Rome were accustomed to mingle large quantities of fennel with their food, because it tended to give them strength and courage, so did this industrious lawyer never fail, when an opportunity offered, to devour a great abundance of strawberries; being fully persuaded that the fruit imparted a wonderful degree of patience and perseverance. In the spring strawberries and cream were consumed by him in immense quantities; and at other seasons of the year the preserved fruit was never absent from his table."
"Mr. Seddon," said the Professor, "pay attention to that. You are a young lawyer, and I would advise you to have the example of M. T. Pate ever in contemplation."
"I most certainly will," said Seddon.
"Never turn your back on a bowl of strawberries and cream," said the Professor.
"Never!" exclaimed Seddon,—"never!"
"Be assured," said the Professor, with much solemnity, "that a sincere devotion to this delicious little berry will finally bring its reward. It will enable you to wait with admirable patience for the big case which is to come and place you prominently before the public. Toney, excuse this interruption. Read on,—I am becoming deeply interested."
Toney proceeded with the reading as follows:
"We occasionally meet with an instance of the falsification of the old adage that fools are the recipients of fortune's favors; for this illustrious man, at the very outset of his professional career, met with no ordinary good luck. A few days subsequent to his admission to the bar, the pious old maiden, whose deplorable ignorance of the Greek alphabet had deprived one profession of an ornament and added it to another, left these sublunary scenes for her supernal abode in Abraham's bosom. She had never forgotten nor forgiven the supposed ingratitude of her former protégé. So far from this, she had, on every occasion, denounced him, with all the vehemence of virtuous indignation, as the black-hearted instigator of a meditated assault on her person. What, then, was his astonishment when he found that she had left a will in which she had bestowed on him all her worldly possessions. This testamentary document had been executed many years anterior to the melancholy event which had caused so wide a breach between them. She had put it carefully away and must have entirely forgotten it; for had her mind once reverted to the circumstance of its existence, nothing short of a supermundane interposition could have saved it from the devouring flames. She left him a beautiful farm, and personal property to a considerable amount, with the unusual proviso in the will that he should be a bishop. Some of her relatives seemed disposed, at first, to contend for the property, on the ground that as he was not a bishop he could not claim under the will. But this learned jurist cited the legal maximlex non cogit ad impossibilia, and said that although he was not a bishop at that particular period, he would endeavor to carry out the intentions of the testatrix by becoming one as soon as a favorable opportunity should offer. To manifest his sincerity he immediately became a devout member of the church, and would sometimes read the service when the pastor was absent; and this he continued to do even after his secular duties had got to be exceedingly onerous; being apprehensive of trouble about his title unless he observed this wise precaution. Thus was this threatened lawsuit nipped in the bud; andM. T. Pate took peaceable possession of his beautiful farm, which he soon found was mortgaged nearly to the extent of its actual value in the market.
"Pecuniary difficulties, like the rowels of a Spanish spur applied to the flanks of a donkey, impel a man onward in his career. Now, let no one imagine that we perceive any particular resemblance between this eminent jurist and an ass; and we hope that none of his numerous and ardent admirers will be shocked by the simile which we have employed, for it is not only appropriate in its present connection but it is undoubtedly classical. The mighty Ajax was compared by Homer to an ass; but it was only to show what sturdy qualities he possessed, and what an immense amount of beating he could stubbornly endure. With intentions equally as innocent, we have likened the eminent M. T. Pate to an ass, merely to show how stoutly he stood up under the burden he bore, and how he was impelled to vigorous efforts by the spur of necessity. Had his beautiful farm been unincumbered, he might have remained in obscurity, up to his knees in clover, and daily growing fatter and more lazy in the luxuriant pastures of prosperity. But with the burden of a heavy mortgage on his back, and the rowels of pecuniary difficulties goring his flanks, he got briskly into motion, and in his onward career, whether by accident or otherwise, took the right direction, and finally reached the glorious goal at which so many are aiming, but which so few will ever attain."
"What glorious goal has Pate reached?" asked the Professor.
"You forget the observations with which I prefaced the reading of the manuscript," said Toney. "This is only the first chapter of what is intended to be a very voluminous work. It is true that M. T. Pate has not yet reached the goal designated, but long before I have written the concluding portion of his biography I am confident that you will behold him on the very pinnacle of the temple of fame."
"Toney is a prophet," said Tom. "He truly predicted what has since happened to the two young ladies and their lovers who have gone to the Mexican war."
"Poor Claribel!" said Toney. "I sincerely wish that my vaticinations had not been verified."
"Pooh! pooh!" said the Professor. "Their lovers have taken wing and flown away, but they will come back little turtle-doves in the spring, and then, after a little billing and cooing, you will see two pretty pairs building their nests. And besides, although love is a disease which is supposed to attack the heart, it is seldom fatal in its results."
"Is it not?" said Tom.
"Why, no," said the Professor. "Dora jilted me, and am I dead? Ecce homo! fat and flourishing, and the founder of the sect of Funny Philosophers."
"I would really like to know the condition of Claribel's health," said Toney.
"It had much improved when I called and made inquiry this morning," said Tom. "But I thought that I was about to witness war and bloodshed in the house."
"How so?" asked Toney.
"Hostilities have broken out between the two doctors," said Tom. "They were quarreling in the hall when I entered, and left the house shaking their fists in each other's faces."
"What about?" inquired Toney.
"I was unable to ascertain," said Tom.
"Well, never mind," said the Professor. "Who shall decide when doctors disagree? Toney, let us hear the concluding portion of your manuscript. But, by Jove! what's that?"
A loud noise was heard in the street; men shouting and boys hurrahing. Tom Seddon snatched up his hat, and, followed by Toney and the Professor, ran from the room.
"Hurrah for Bull!" shouted a boy, as Tom reached the pavement in front of the hotel.
"Bully for Bear! Pitch in! Hit him again! He called you another liar!" yelled a ragged urchin on the opposite side of the street.
"Who are those belligerent gentlemen?" asked the Professor.
"The very two doctors I saw shaking their fists in each other's faces at Colonel Hazlewood's door," said Tom Seddon. "I thought there would soon be active hostilities between them."
"Good for Bull!" cried an urchin.
"Wade in, Bear!" shouted another.
"I bet on Bull!" said a third.
"Bear's the man for my money!" yelled a fourth.
"Which is Bull?" asked the Professor.
"The red-faced man with spectacles on his nose, who is standing up in the buggy without a top, and is menacing his antagonist with the butt end of his whip," said Tom Seddon.
"And Bear is the short fat man on horseback, brandishing his cane?" said Toney.
"The same," said Seddon.
"Right cut against cavalry!" shouted a soldier on the pavement, as Bull aimed a blow at Bear with his whip.
"By jabers! that's the prod!" cried an Irishman, as Bear thrust the end of his cane in his adversary's face.
The horse attached to the buggy now moved on a few paces and halted. Bear sat still on his horse, fiercely gazing at his antagonist.
"At him again!" cried a boy.
"Don't be afraid! Show the blood of your mother!" yelled a second urchin.
"Charge, Chester, charge!" shouted a third.
Bear furiously spurred his horse and rushed up to thebuggy. A blow from Bull's whip knocked off his hat, and his bald head shone in the sun. At the same time a thrust from Bear's cane deprived Bull of his spectacles.
"Hurrah for Bear! He has knocked out Bull's eyes!" shouted a boy.
Bull seized Bear's cane and pulled it from his hands. Bear reached out and grasped Bull by the top of his head. Bull's wig came off.
"Hurrah! hurrah! he has scalped him!" shouted a boy.
Bull was infuriated. He grappled Bear by a tuft of hair that grew on the side of his head. Bear's horse started back and the rider fell over his neck into the buggy. Then both belligerents commenced furiously fighting with their fists.
"I command the peace! I command the peace!" cried a portly gentleman on the pavement.
"They are at close quarters," said a soldier. "It is too late to command the peace."
The belligerents in the buggy were furiously dealing blows and loudly uttering profanity, and the horse was frightened and ran off with the vehicle. Tom Seddon leaped on Bear's horse and galloped off in pursuit. On the main road leading from the town was a company of cavalry returning from a parade. The troopers opened to the right and left, and the two doctors passed through, furiously pommeling each other in the buggy.
"By fours, right about wheel!" shouted the captain. "Trot! Gallop! Charge!" and away went the cavalry, clattering down the road in pursuit of the belligerent doctors! Tom Seddon brought up the rear.
On went the doctors in their war-chariot, each dealing blows at his antagonist, and shouting and swearing in utter unconsciousness of the surroundings! On rode the gallant captain at the head of his company! On galloped Tom Seddon in the rear! Over a hill and down a descent they rushed at a terrific rate! On the top of the next hill stood a toll-gate. The keeper, seeing a horse running at full speed with a vehicle, closed the gate and stopped his career. "Halt!" shouted the captain. "Halt! halt!" cried the lieutenants. And the troopershalted and sat on their panting horses, surrounding the buggy.
"Draw sabers!" shouted the captain. And every saber leaped from its scabbard.
"Surrender!" said the captain, riding up to the buggy. "In the name of the State I demand your surrender!" But Bull and Bear heard not, and heeded not. Each had grappled his antagonist by the throat, and was fiercely fighting.
"Sergeant, dismount two sections and secure the prisoners," said the captain.
Eight stalwart troopers, headed by a sergeant, leaped from their horses, and, rushing to the buggy, seized Bull and Bear by the legs and pulled them apart.
"Tie their hands behind their backs," said the captain, "or they will go at it again."
The prisoners were securely bound with cords, and each mounted behind a trooper, and were thus conducted back to the town.
"I commit you both to jail for an outrageous breach of the peace," said the magistrate, who still stood on the pavement. "Here, constable, is the commitment. Take them both to jail. Put them in separate cells, and don't let them get at one another again."
"Good heavens!" said Colonel Hazelwood, as he saw the two physicians led away in the custody of the constable, "what am I to do? I have a sick person in my house, and the only two doctors in the town have been sent to jail for fighting in the street."
"What did they quarrel about?" asked Toney.
"Why," said the colonel, "the young lady was nervous, and could not sleep; and Bull wanted to give her a decoction of hops, while Bear was of opinion that she should drink a cup of catnip-tea."
"Colonel," said the Professor, "allow me to give you some advice."
"What is that?" inquired the colonel.
"Never admit two doctors into your house, unless you desire to be the spectator of a pugilistic combat."
"That was a brilliant charge of cavalry in which you so gallantly participated, Mr. Seddon," said the Professor, when the three friends had returned to Toney's room. "In promptness and impetuosity it will compare with Colonel May's famous charge at the battle of Resaca de la Palma."
"It was decisive," said Seddon. "Put an end to hostilities."
"And now, Toney, do not let these two doctors be instrumental in bringing the life of M. T. Pate to an abrupt termination," said the Professor.
"Two doctors are enough to bring any man's life to a termination," said Seddon. "If the walls of the jail were not solid and strong, it would be a very heavy premium which would induce me to insure the lives of their patients in Colonel Hazlewood's house."
"It is not becoming in one of the Funny Philosophers to joke on such a sad and serious subject," said the Professor. "Toney, proceed with the reading of the biography of M. T. Pate."
Toney took up the manuscript and read as follows:
"The mighty oak, whose massive timbers entered into the construction of the magnificent steamship, was once an insignificant acorn, and the illustrious man whose wisdom and eloquence are the admiration of the multitude was once a humble attorney practicing in the petty court of a justice of the peace. A few miles from his residence was a village where Justice Johnson held his court on every second and fourth Saturday in each month. He had civil jurisdiction in actions of debt where the amount involved did not exceed the sum of fifty dollars; to which were superadded powers of adjudication in certain criminal causes, where the slave population were accused of sundry peccadilloes, such as nocturnal aggressions on the hen-roosts of the farmers in the neighborhood. From thedecisions of the justice in civil suits there was an appeal to the county court.
"In the court of the learned and dignified Justice Johnson M. T. Pate commenced his professional career; and here he continued to practice for a number of years before he ventured upon a more extended field of action. The fees were small, but with many cases and much economy his accumulations might be considerable. And, besides, like many men of merit, he was diffident of his abilities, and dreaded to meet a trained adversary in the field of forensic controversy. He hoped that this diffidence would wear off by degrees, and that he would not be like Counselor Lamb, who said that the older he grew, the more sheepish he became——"
"Stop, Toney, stop!" said the Professor. "Do you think that a pun is allowable in the biography of a great man, which should be almost as grave and dignified in its style as the history of a great nation?"
"It is not a pun," said Toney. "It is the serious remark of a very learned lawyer. Lamb is a meek old lawyer in Mapleton, remarkable for his modesty. For many years he contented himself with a lucrative chamber practice, and never attempted to address a court or jury. But on one occasion a favorite negro servant of the lawyer was indicted for cutting off a bull's tail. Lamb undertook to defend him before a jury. He arose with much trepidation; his voice faltered; he could not articulate a word. A profuse perspiration bathed his brow, and he took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. There was some ugly unguent on the handkerchief, and it left a black spot on his brow.
"'Look at old Lamb's face,' said a young attorney, in a loud whisper.
"'It is—lam'black!' said another.
"The twelve jurors in the box grinned. Lamb shook from head to foot. He grew desperate, and, in a loud voice, exclaimed, 'Gentlemen of the jury, the prisoner is indicted for cutting off a bull's tail. What—what——' There was an awkward pause.
"'He was going to ask what should be done with the bull,' whispered a young limb of the law.
"'Sell him at wholesale—you can't retail him,' said another attorney, in a whisper so loud as to be distinctly audible.
"The jury were convulsed with laughter, which so increased the agitation of the advocate that he shook like an aspen, and finally dropped into his seat and covered his face with his handkerchief. The judge rapped with his gavel, and repressing the merriment which pervaded the court-room, told the counselor to proceed with his argument. But he could not utter another word. Some days afterwards as Lamb sat in his office, lamenting his infirmity to a friend, he said that the older he grew, the more sheepish he became."
"Your explanation is perfectly satisfactory," said the Professor, gravely. "Resume the reading of Pate's biography."
Toney read on:
"But even in this quiet little court he had an adversary who was a thorn in his side, often causing him great affliction, and sometimes intense agony. This adversary was a carpenter with a hooked nose and a most singular physiognomy, known by the name of Peter Piddler, and supposed to be crazy on all subjects except those appertaining to the law. On legal questions he exhibited great astuteness, and, having renounced the jack-plane and procured an odd volume of Burn's Justice, he had been practicing for some years before Justice Johnson, when M. T. Pate made his début. The carpenter considered himself the monarch of that bar, and when his youthful antagonist entered the arena, the contest between them was watched with nearly as much interest in the little village as was the meeting of Pinkney and Webster on a more celebrated forum. Many predicted that Piddler had now met with his match, and might even have to succumb; but their vaticinations were not verified in every instance. Extraordinary as it may seem, the carpenter usually came off victorious, and the learned attorney frequently left the court and went home deeply dejected by the humiliation of defeat.
"In that neighborhood many people still talk about those celebrated trials, where Justice Johnson presidedand Piddler and Pate contended for victory. Most of these accounts are legendary, and no more reliable than are those in relation to the early efforts of the eloquent orator of the Old Dominion. One, however, we have ascertained to be strictly authentic. A stout African, a slave named Sam, and an incorrigible sinner, had been brought before Justice Johnson on the grave charge of having purloined a hen, the property of a widow lady in that vicinity. Pate was for the defense and Piddler for the prosecution. The widow's son, a lad of twelve years, who was the principal witness, testified that he had set the hen, putting twenty eggs under her, which was more than she could conveniently cover. With an admonition to the patient fowl to 'spread' herself, he left her, and, climbing a cherry-tree, was eating the fruit, when he saw Sam carry off both the hen and the eggs. The testimony was conclusive of the prisoner's guilt, and his counsel had to assail the character of the witness. But he was ably vindicated by Piddler, and the unfortunate Sam was convicted of petty larceny. Justice Johnson, being a humane man, in passing sentence, said, with tears in his eyes, 'Sam, it gives me great pain to order corporal punishment to be indicted on any one, but my solemn duty must be performed. The sentence of the court is, that you be taken hence to the horse-rack, and have twelve lashes laid on your bare back, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul!'
"Sam was taken to the place of execution, and having undergone his punishment with heroic fortitude, was about to be released by the constable, when his counsel appeared in court and moved for a new trial. The court ordered the officer to keep a sharp lookout on Sam, and sent for Piddler, who was celebrating his victory in a neighboring bar-room. Pate argued his motion with much ability, and demonstrated that the hen was worth so much, and that when the twenty eggs were hatched each chicken would be worth so much, and that the aggregate would amount to a sum sufficient to constitute the offense of grand larceny, over which the court had no jurisdiction. Piddler was fuddled, and failing to perceive any other weak point in his adversary's argument,contented himself with saying that he did not think that his learned brother had any right to count his chickens before they were hatched. Justice Johnson very properly rebuked him for his levity; and firmly expressing his determination to maintain the dignity of the court, finally granted a new trial. So the case was again tried and with the same result. Sam was convicted and sentenced to receive another installment of twelve lashes on his bare back. Piddler always boasted of his success in this prosecution, and said that if he was defeated on the motion for a new trial, nevertheless he had got the curly-headed rascal twenty-four lashes on his bare back instead of twelve. On the other hand, Mr. Pate, after he had acquired more experience in his profession, candidly acknowledged that the motion for a new trial was an error on his part, as it could do his client no good under the circumstances, and actually did him a deal of harm. But he said he was then young, and allowed himself to be carried away by too eager a desire for the glory of a victory over his vaunting antagonist.
"So frequently defeated before Justice Johnson, Mr. Pate had many appeals to the county court. These were usually tried by other attorneys whom he employed before the cases were called. But he was regular in his attendance, and each morning, during the terms, might be seen mounted on his favorite nag, Old Whitey, and traveling towards the metropolis of the county. Although there were many stables in the town where hay and oats could be had for hungry horses, he always fastened his steed to a tree, where the animal remained from nine o'clock in the morning until late in the afternoon, with nothing to satisfy his natural craving for food. Thus did the lawyer not only save the expense of provender, but also of whip and spur, for Whitey was always in a hurry to get home and enjoy the luxury of the abundant pastures on the farm. The tree which was thus used as a stable withered and died many years ago, having been entirely stripped of its bark by the teeth of the hungry horse. Being an object of great curiosity, it was cut down and manufactured into canes, which were in great demand and sold at extravagant prices.One of these walking-sticks was purchased by a gentleman from Louisiana, who carried it home and presented it to General Taylor; at the same time giving him a history of the lawyer and his horse. The old hero, who admired simplicity of character, was much struck with the story, and named his favorite war-horse Old Whitey. And thus did it happen that the gallant charger which carried Old Rough and Ready through the glorious battle of Buena Vista, had the honor of being named after the horse which had so often carried this distinguished lawyer with all his learning to court."
"Is that all?" said the Professor, as Toney laid aside the manuscript.
"That ends the chapter," said Toney. "And it was more than enough for Tom Seddon, for he has been asleep for the last fifteen minutes."
"Mr. Seddon," said the Professor, "has probably glided into a condition of trance, and now has before him a beautiful vision of a bowl of strawberries and cream. It would not be in accordance with the principles of genuine philanthropy to awaken him to the unsavory realities of ordinary existence. Shall we leave him to wander in the land of Nod, and take a walk through the town?"
"Agreed," said Toney. And, putting on their hats, they left Tom Seddon snoring on Toney's bed, and proceeded on a promenade.