FOOTNOTE:[3]We have not been to find any account of this combat in Napier's History of the Peninsular War. The historian overlooked it.
[3]We have not been to find any account of this combat in Napier's History of the Peninsular War. The historian overlooked it.
[3]We have not been to find any account of this combat in Napier's History of the Peninsular War. The historian overlooked it.
Captain Bragg, with an appetite rendered voracious by his exercise in the open air at so early an hour, made a hearty breakfast on an abundant supply of ham and eggs, which Lord Byron has said is a dish good enough for an emperor. Having finished his repast, he arose from the table, and going to his apartment, proceeded to prepare the placard in which he intended to make known the poltroonery of Botts to the public. When a man's mind is full of his subject, composition is performed with ease and rapidity. The words roll off from the end of the pen as naturally as water flows from a perennial fountain. Bragg's writing instrument galloped across the paper and soon covered the foolscap with a terrible denunciation of the unfortunate Botts.
The indignant duelist hurried off to a printing-office, and said to the proprietor, "I want you to print this immediately."
"Will you be so good as to furnish me with your name?" said the proprietor.
"Of what consequence is my name to you?" said Bragg. "I want you to print the advertisement, and here is the money."
"Can't do it," said the proprietor. "Can't put anything in my paper without the name of the party who furnishes it; advertisement or no advertisement,—paid for or not,—I can't print it."
"Why not?" said Bragg.
"Because we can't afford to keep a fighting editor in this office; and I don't want to get into difficulties."
"What difficulties will you get into?" said Bragg.
"Plenty of them. I don't want my head broken with a cudgel, sir."
"Who is going to break your head?" said Bragg.
"There are plenty of people in these parts to do it, sir, and on slight provocation. Last winter a fellow came into this office just before we went to press, and left an advertisement which he paid for, saying that he wanted it to appear in our issue of that day. It was a certificate that Samuel Crabstick, who is a bald-headed man, had bought a bottle of Dr. Bamboozle's celebrated hair ointment, and applied it to his bare scalp, and that in forty-eight hours after the first application a fine suit of hair had grown all over his head, seven inches in length. Well, what were the consequences, sir? Why, the whole town was talking and laughing about this wonderful growth of hair. And next morning old Crabstick walked into the office, and, after much profanity, assaulted me with a heavy bludgeon. Had it not been for my devil, who come behind him and put himhors de combatwith the hot poker, he would have broken my bones, sir. So your advertisement cannot go in my paper unless you leave your name for reference."
"I don't want it in your paper," said Bragg. "I want it printed like a hand-bill."
"Oh, that alters the case. You take the responsibility."
"Here! I want these three words,—look, will you?—Botts—Poltroon—Coward,—printed in your largest letters."
"We have type big enough," said the printer, producing some wooden blocks about three inches long.
"Those will do," said Bragg. "Now, go to work—quick—hurry!"
In a very brief space of time Bragg had a dozen documents in his possession, for which he paid the printer and hastened away.
In a few moments after he had left the printing-office,Bragg's tall form was seen elevated on a stool; and he was in the act of pasting a hand-bill against the side of the hotel when he was interrupted by the landlord, who said,—
"Captain Bragg, I do not allow any bills for monkey shows to be pasted against my house."
"This is no bill for a monkey show," said Bragg.
"Nor advertisements for quack medicines, neither," said the landlord.
"This is no advertisement for quack medicines," said Bragg, with a look of indignation.
"Well, whatever it be, you can't paste it there. I will not have my walls plastered over with advertisements."
Bragg scowled at the landlord, and, getting down from the stool with a profane expression, he went across the street to an apothecary's shop. Here he was about to put up a placard when he perceived in large letters on the corner,Paste No Pills Here; some ingenious urchins having altered the original B to a P. Bragg was puzzled, and scratched his head; and, as he did so, an idea entered his cranium, and he understood that this inscription was a prohibition as imperative as that which he had just received from the landlord.
Bragg was in a dilemma. He did not know what to do with his documents. He had made two or three attempts on other houses, and had been warned off by the proprietors. A chambermaid had discharged a quantity of foul water at him from an upper window as he was in the act of defacing the dwelling with a hand-bill; and a burly Hibernian, in his emphatic brogue, had cursed him for an itinerant vender of nostrums; for there was a violent prejudice in the town of Bella Vista against all venders of quack medicines ever since a wandering empiric, having promised to cure an old gentleman of some hepatic disorder, had given him an emetic, and afterwards told him that he had puked up a piece of his liver and would soon get well; when, in fact, the patient was soon in the hands of the undertaker.
Toney and Tom now came to the assistance of Bragg; and Seddon, being a citizen of the town, and acquaintedwith its localities, conducted the captain to a small tenement which was used by a Dutchman as a stable for his donkey. Bragg produced his documents, and was about to apply the paste when the Dutchman came forth leading his donkey, and exclaimed, "Donner und blitzen! what for you do dat?" Tom whispered to Bragg to offer the Dutchman a dollar. This suggestion had its effect, and the silver coin obtained from the proprietor of the stable a place for the duelist's placard.
Having made his donation to the Dutchman, Bragg was spreading his paste on the side of the donkey's dwelling when a loud shout was heard in the street. A crowd of men and boys were seen advancing, and in their midst, covered with mud and filth from head to foot, and led along by two sturdy Irishmen, was a most pitiable and disgusting object. His face had received a coating of wet clay, which was gradually getting dry, and made his visage as ugly as an idol in a Hindoo temple. His clothing was befouled with slime; and the two men held him at arm's length, so as to avoid the defilement of actual contact.
"By the powers of mud! what is that?" exclaimed Bragg.
"One of the powers aforesaid coming in answer to your invocation, I suppose," said Seddon.
"It is mud, sure enough," said Toney.
"Walking abroad and endeavoring to dry itself in the sun," said Seddon.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted the boys.
"Here he is—by jabers! we found him!" said an Irishman.
"Who is he?" said Toney.
"Do you not know me?" said a dolorous voice issuing from the mass of mud.
"No, I do not. Who are you?"
"I am Botts."
"Botts!" said Toney.
"Botts!" exclaimed Seddon.
"Botts!" shouted Bragg.
"Yes, gentlemen, I am Botts."
It would require the perfection of language to describe the amazement of Captain Bragg when he beheld a slimy figure, looking like one of the powers by whom he continually swore, and heard a voice issuing from its ugly lips, and saying "I am Botts." The placards, in which he was about to doom his absconding adversary to eternal infamy, dropped from his hand, and were picked up by a boy, and converted into the tail for a kite. Toney and Tom were also astonished at the sudden and strange appearance of the missing man. After a moment of silence, Belton said,—
"Where did you come from?"
"From the bottom of a well," said an Irishman.
"Good heavens!" said Pate, who had just arrived in company with Wiggins and Perch,—"good heavens! did Botts fall into a well?"
"And shure it's not for me to say how he got there. We found him in the well on his knees in the wather, and praying to the blessed Vargin and all the saints."
"I'm almost dead! I'll never get over it!" said Botts.
"Run for a doctor! run, Perch! run!" said Pate.
Perch went off at the double-quick in search of medical aid, while Pate and Wiggins conducted their friend to the hotel.
"Don't bring that man in here. I can't have my house covered with mud and filth. Take him to the bath-house and wash him," said the landlord.
Pate pleaded and implored, but the landlord was inexorable; and they were compelled to conduct the miserable man to the bath-house. With some difficulty he was divested of his clothing; and, while Wiggins assisted him in performing his ablutions, Pate proceeded to his apartment and procured a change of raiment. His two friends then led him to his room, where they found Perch with the doctor. The physician examined his patient, and discovered that no bones were broken, and that there wasno internal injury of any sort. He ordered Botts a strong tonic, and, telling him to keep quiet in bed and he would be well in the morning, took his departure. Perch soon after left the room, saying that he had an engagement to walk with Miss Imogen Hazlewood. Pate and Wiggins sat by the bedside of their afflicted friend, who, with many a moan and dolorous ejaculation, told the story of his misfortune, which we will endeavor to abbreviate and relate in more intelligible language.
It will be recollected that after Botts had executed his last will and testament, and addressed letters of farewell to his friends, he had proceeded to the outskirts of the town, and walked to and fro over the common, meditating on his approaching end. About the middle of the night, as he continued to walk with his gaze fixed on the star which he had selected for his future abode, he tumbled into an unfinished well, about twelve feet deep, with six inches of water at the bottom. It being night, and he being under the earth, his loud cries for assistance were unheard, and he remained in the well until a late hour in the morning, when the Irish laborers discovered him on his knees in the water praying fervently; he having experienced a change of heart, and repented of the great crime he had intended to commit.
While Pate and Wiggins were consoling their friend, they were startled by loud shrieks from a female voice in an adjacent apartment.
"Good heavens!" said Pate.
"What's that?" exclaimed Wiggins.
"There's murder in the house!" bawled out Botts; and he jumped from his bed and ran to the door.
"Come back, Botts! you haven't got your breeches on," said Wiggins; and he seized Botts by the caudal extremity of his under-garment and held him with a firm grasp.
Shrieks after shrieks were heard, and then the heavy tread of feet hurrying along the corridor. Pate and Wiggins rushed to the scene of action, and beheld the landlord, with loud and violent imprecations, kicking Captain Bragg's monkey out of a room. The creature had got loose, and climbing over the transom of a door, had leapeddown on a bed where a lady was taking her siesta. The hideous apparition had nearly thrown the fair inmate of the room into convulsions.
"Get out of here, you infernal imp!" said the landlord, giving the monkey a kick which sent it rolling over and over along the corridor. The agile creature gathered itself up, and with an active bound sprang on the railing of the stairway, where it sat making ugly grimaces, and shaking both fists at Boniface in intense indignation.
"Get me a gun!" shouted the landlord, in a towering passion.
"Don't shoot!" exclaimed Pate; and a dozen female voices shrieked in apprehension of the report of fire-arms.
"What are you doing to my monkey?" said Bragg, hurrying to the spot.
"Get out of my house with that incarnate devil of yours!" said the landlord. The monkey grinned and shook its fists, and the landlord stamped his foot and swore with vim and vehemence.
"I'll have satisfaction for this outrage offered to my monkey," said Bragg.
"I'll give you satisfaction, sir! I'm no Botts, to be bullied by you, sir! If you don't get out of this house, I'll take you by the neck and heels and throw you out, and your monkey after you!"
The landlord was a powerful and determined man. He had fought under Old Hickory at New Orleans. He stood six feet three in his stockings, and could easily have executed his threat.
"Do you not keep a house for the accommodation of travelers?" said Bragg. "For the entertainment of man and beast?"
"But not for the entertainment of man and devil! That monkey is a born devil, sir!"
"He was a royal present from her Majesty the Queen of Madagascar," said Bragg.
"A royal present from his Majesty the Old Boy!" said Boniface. "He gets loose just when he pleases. He chased the cooks out of the kitchen, and ate up the eggs they had got for breakfast. He stole a negro baby out of its cradle and hid it in the wood-house."
"He is a cannibal!" said Seddon.
"One of the captain's long-tailed African friends," said Toney.
"Dines on babies," said Tom. "He'll be after a Dutchman next."
"Out of this house he goes, and you, too!" said the landlord. "Here, Cæsar, Scipio! carry Captain Bragg's baggage down and set it on the pavement." The negroes proceeded to obey orders. "And now be off!" said Boniface. "I don't ask you to settle your bill; I want no money from you. I want you to leave, and take that monkey with you!"
"You had better go," said Seddon to Bragg, "or he will call on the sheriff to summon aposse comitatusand put you out."
"I want no comitatus, Mr. Seddon," said the landlord, overhearing the remark; "I can manage him and his monkey both."
The sagacity of Bragg enabled him to comprehend the situation. He perceived that the indignant Boniface was not to be intimidated even by a harpoon or a boomerang. Toney Belton had whispered to the cosmopolite that the landlord was the very man who had shot General Packenham from his horse, and thereby gained for Old Hickory his glorious victory on the banks of the Mississippi; and Tom Seddon asseverated that he had decapitated three Indians with a bowie-knife, in a hand-to-hand encounter, in the Everglades of Florida. Upon calm consideration Bragg determined to leave the hotel. His baggage was conveyed to a boarding-house which Seddon had found for him in the suburbs of the town. Here he secured comfortable quarters for himself and an asylum for his monkey.
At night, after smoking their cigars, Belton proposed to his friend that they should call on Botts. They were sitting in his room, with Wiggins, talking to the unfortunate man, and getting him in a cheerful mood by pleasant conversation, when Pate rushed in with horror depicted in his countenance.
"What's the matter, Mr. Pate?" said Belton.
"Oh!—oh!—oh!"
"What's the matter?" said Wiggins.
"Help—help—help!"
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" exclaimed everybody at once.
"Perch—Perch!"
"What has he done?" said Wiggins.
"Has committed suicide!"
And Pate rushed from the room like one bereft of his reason. Toney, Tom, and Wiggins ran after him, while Botts jumped from his bed and hurried through the door; and several affrighted females loudly screamed as they beheld him swiftly gliding along the corridor, in his white garments, and looking like a ghost.
Claribel Carrington and Imogen Hazlewood were cousins. The former was an orphan whose father had died in affluence, leaving his only child a large estate. Her home was the magnificent mansion of her uncle, Colonel Hazlewood, a wealthy citizen of Bella Vista, and her constant companion was the beautiful Imogen. Each of these young ladies had a devoted lover, who, as Tom Seddon had remarked, would have gone on a pilgrimage to the North Pole in search of an icicle in obedience to her wishes. Clarence Hastings adored the lovely Claribel, and Imogen was worshiped by the handsome Harry Vincent. The young men were only sons of two wealthy gentlemen, and consequently each would inherit an ample fortune. They were highly educated and accomplished. Clarence had devoted himself to the study of medicine; while Harry was a man of leisure and had become a votary of the Muses, having already published a small volume of poems, which were admired by the general reader, and had even been commended by critics. But Clarence, although he had made great progress inanatomy and was satisfied that a man could not exist without a heart, was inclined to believe that a woman sometimes managed to get along without that important organ. He arrived at this conclusion from pursuing his studies in the society of the lovely Claribel. Harry Vincent had discovered that the poets in all ages had used the word in their verses, and supposed that most women had a heart, but was afraid that Imogen had grown up in magnificent beauty without ever having had one deposited by nature in her bosom. After much meditation, he determined to ascertain if he was not mistaken, and in the afternoon of the very day on which the valiant Captain Bragg had been expelled from the hotel by the indignant landlord, he proceeded to the mansion of Colonel Hazlewood and inquired for Imogen. He was told that she was walking in the garden. Thither he went, and in an arbor beheld a sight which convinced him that the beautiful Imogen had a heart. He hastily retired, and determined to go to the Mexican war, and march for the Halls of the Montezumas.
What spectacle was it that caused such warlike emotions in the bosom of Harry Vincent? Why was he so suddenly impelled to march under the star-spangled banner against Santa Anna and his legions, in the valley of Mexico?
Oh, women! women! pretty doves or pigeons!How many men for you their weapons clutch!For you the Grecians murdered all the Phrygians.
Oh, women! women! pretty doves or pigeons!How many men for you their weapons clutch!For you the Grecians murdered all the Phrygians.
Oh, women! women! pretty doves or pigeons!
How many men for you their weapons clutch!
For you the Grecians murdered all the Phrygians.
And it was on account of one of the most beautiful of womankind that poor Harry Vincent determined to shoulder his musket and shed his blood on the field of battle.
He rushed frantically from the garden, looking as pale as a ghost. But what had he seen? On his knees in the arbor he beheld Sam Perch, whom Toney Belton called the Long Green Boy, with his head resting on the lap of the beautiful Imogen. The young lady was dipping her handkerchief in a vase of water and tenderly bathing his brow. Now, what had brought the poor Long Green Boy down on his knees before Imogen? What had he saidto Imogen, and what had she said to him, that had caused him to faint? Oh, ladies, how do you manage to get a stout young fellow down on his knees before you, when a strong man could not bring him to that position except by a powerful blow from a ponderous fist? The whole thing was a mystery, but the fact was apparent. Perch had gone down on his knees before the lovely Imogen, and she had spoken words which had caused such strong emotions that he had fainted. The Long Green Boy revived, after the young lady, with womanly tenderness, had bathed his brow with water from a fountain. He told her that his heart was broken. She murmured something in reply and glided from the garden, while the poor youth arose from his knees and with his fractured heart proceeded to his room at the hotel.
When the unfortunate Long Green Boy entered his room at the hotel, he seated himself on a trunk in a corner, with a multitude of darts, which had emanated from the eyes of the beautiful Imogen, sticking in his heart and causing him intense agony. The poor youth had been carried away into the regions of rapture, and then suddenly and unexpectedly plunged into the pit of despair. He was convinced that his misery was more than he could bear, and after meditating profoundly upon the most eligible methods of escaping from the troubles of this sublunary state of existence, he arose, and going to an apothecary's shop, asked for a pint of laudanum.
"How much?" inquired the apothecary.
"A pint," said Perch.
"Do you want a whole pint?"
"Yes," said Perch, with a look of despair in his face,—"it will take a whole pint to cure me."
"What is the matter with you?" asked the apothecary.
"I have got the—the toothache," said Perch.
"Humph!" said the apothecary. And he went into a back room to get a bottle.
"Father," said a blue-eyed young lady in the back room, "do not give that young man any laudanum."
"Why not?"
"Because I have been watching him through the door,and I am certain he is crossed in love. He will kill himself."
"Pooh! pooh! the young man has got the toothache. That's worse than being crossed in love a hundred times."
"Oh, father!" said the young lady, and she resumed her reading of "The Sorrows of Werther."
The apothecary filled the bottle and handed it to his customer. Perch returned to his room and proceeded to make preparations for his departure from earth. He sat down and wrote a letter to the cruel Imogen, in which he accused her of being the sole cause of his untimely end. He directed another letter to his distinguished friend, M. T. Pate, telling him that his sufferings were unendurable, and that he had been driven by despair to the commission of the deed.
With a trembling hand the Long Green Boy then poured about half the contents of the bottle into a goblet and hastily drank it off. He then laid himself down on the bed, crossed his legs and folded his arms, and prepared to die with decency. Instead of the lethal effects of the laudanum which he had expected, he soon experienced a wonderful exhilaration. The washstand in the corner of the room seemed to be dancing a jig; there were now two lamps on the table instead of one; and at last the room itself was in motion, and the Long Green Boy supposed that the house was being moved about by an earthquake. In great excitement he arose from the bed, and with the floor rocking and rolling so that he could hardly stand on his feet, he staggered to the table, and, seizing the bottle, swallowed its contents. With a revolving motion he then reached the bed, sank down, and was soon in a state of profound insensibility.
While the Long Green Boy thus lay in a stupor, M. T. Pate entered the apartment. He endeavored to awaken the sleeper, but found it impossible to do so, and seeing a letter on the table addressed to himself, he opened it, and then, with a loud exclamation of horror, rushed from the room.
The unhappy victim of unrequited love lay on his back, with his face turned to the ceiling, and his arms folded over his bosom, as if waiting for the undertaker to come and ascertain his measurement, when M. T. Pate again entered the room, and, rushing to the side of the bed, exclaimed, "Oh! oh! oh!"
Wiggins now burst into the room, and, looking at the recumbent and motionless form on the bed, also exclaimed, "Oh! oh! oh!"
"What's the matter?" said Toney.
"He has killed himself!" said Wiggins.
"Great thunder!" said Tom.
"Has taken poison!" said Pate.
"Poison!" exclaimed Toney. "Run for a doctor, Tom! Tell him to bring a stomach-pump! Run!"
Tom Seddon rushed from the room in headlong haste, and running against Botts in the corridor, hurled him down a stairway. The unlucky Botts, in his night-garments, rolled over and over until he reached the bottom, when he found himself among a number of females, who loudly shrieked and fled in terror from the hideous apparition. Tom stopped not to inquire if any bones were broken, but went off as fast as his legs could carry him after a doctor to pump out the poison, while Botts rushed up the stairway in his night-clothes, and put another party of females to flight on the upper landing. He was followed into the apartment, where poor Perch lay on the bed, by the landlord, who was in a towering rage.
"Mr. Botts!" shouted the landlord, shaking his ponderous fist at Botts, who was leaning over the unfortunate Perch,—"Mr. Botts! what do you mean by running about my house with no clothes on your——"
"Hush!" said Botts.
"Hush!" said Wiggins.
"For Heaven's sake, hush!" exclaimed Pate.
The landlord glared like an enraged lion at each of thespeakers in succession, and then advancing on Botts, seized him by the collar and hurled him around until his fragile clothing was torn from his person, and Botts fell over a trunk and sat in a corner of the room almost in a state of complete nudity.
"You shameless, impudent, outrageous, ugly beast! do you think that I will allow you to be running and racing about among the ladies in my house like a naked savage?"
"Hold!" cried Wiggins.
"Respect the dead!" exclaimed Pate, pointing to poor Perch lying on the bed.
"Who's dead?" said the landlord, looking aghast.
"Look there!" said Pate.
The landlord stepped forward and leaned over Perch.
"Who says he is dead?" asked Boniface.
"He has taken poison?" said Pate.
"A whole pint—enough to kill fifty men!" said Wiggins.
"He is drunk!" said the landlord.
"Shame! shame!" cried Pate.
"Insult the dead!" exclaimed Wiggins.
"He is drunk! I'll bet my hat on it!" said the landlord.
Here Tom Seddon rushed into the room, followed by a doctor carrying a stomach-pump in his hand.
"Here, doctor! here!" exclaimed Pate. "Quick! quick!"
"Open his month," said the doctor.
Pate proceeded to obey instructions, and succeeded in opening the Long Green Boy's mouth, but he unfortunately got his fingers in the orifice, and the jaws closed firmly on them.
"Oh! oh! oh!" exclaimed Pate, with his forefinger between the teeth of the dying man.
"Force his jaws open," said the doctor, holding the tube ready for insertion.
"Oh! oh! oh! oh! gracious heavens!" exclaimed Pate.
Toney Belton, by an adroit use of his thumb, succeeded in opening the jaws and releasing Pate, who danced aboutthe room, exclaiming, "Oh! oh! oh!" while the doctor hastily thrust the tube down his patient's throat.
A quantity of fluid was pumped into a basin.
"What did you say he had taken?" inquired the doctor, examining the contents of the basin.
"Laudanum!" said Wiggins. "A whole pint of it."
"Enough to kill a team of horses!" said Tom Seddon.
"This is not laudanum," said the doctor, with a look of intense disgust at his patient.
"What is it?" asked Wiggins.
"Brandy," said the doctor.
"Just as I said," exclaimed the landlord. "I can tell a drunken man from a dead man any day."
The diagnosis of the landlord was correct. The wily apothecary had given the despairing swain a bottle of brandy, and instead of romantically dying for love, he had become stupidly drunk.
In the morning Botts, who had been so rudely accosted and so roughly handled by the landlord in the apartment of the unfortunate Long Green Boy, was in close and earnest consultation with Wiggins. The question for solution was whether the landlord was a gentleman, and as such amenable for the insult offered to Botts by his language and the assault on his person. The Thirty-nine Articles of the Code of Honor were carefully consulted, and the question was finally determined in the affirmative. The social status of the offender being settled, Wiggins undertook to carry a cartel from Botts to Boniface.
Wiggins found the landlord in his office making out bills and handed him Botts's invitation to the field of honor.
"What's this?" asked the landlord.
"It is a note from Mr. Botts," said Wiggins. "Be so good as to read it and then refer me to your friend, sothat there may be arrangements made for a speedy meeting."
The landlord looked over the paper and then picked up a big cudgel, which leaned against the wall, and advanced towards Wiggins, who began to retreat.
"Oh, you need not run," said Boniface,—"I am not going to thrash you. But where is Botts?"
"In his room," said Wiggins.
"I'll break every bone in his body!" said the landlord.
"What?" said Wiggins.
"I'll pound his worthless carcass to a jelly!" And he started toward the door.
"Hold!" cried Wiggins. "Are you not a gentleman? If not, in behalf of my principal I now withdraw the challenge."
"Who is your principal?" exclaimed the landlord. "A man who comes into my house to turn it upside down! Gets into a muss with a monkey as soon as he arrives! Pretends he wants to fight Captain Bragg and then hides himself like a white-livered poltroon in the bottom of a well! Amuses himself by running and racing among the ladies like a naked Caliban and frightening my female boarders out of their wits! I'll give him satisfaction,—the ugly brute!"
The landlord began to ascend the stairway, breathing vengeance against Botts. Wiggins caught him by the tail of his coat and called out, "Hold! hold! I command the peace!"
"Are you a magistrate?" said the landlord.
"No; but I am a good citizen, and in the name of the law I command the peace!"
"Let me go!" said the landlord, flourishing his cudgel. "Let me go! If you tear my coat-tail off, I will——"
Here a number of ladies appeared on the upper landing and opposed a barrier of beauty between the landlord and Botts, whose ugly visage was seen in their rear. Several gentlemen were in the corridor at the foot of the stairway, and among them a fat and funny little fellow, who stood gazing at the scene with a most comical expression of countenance. The landlord struggled to getfree, but Wiggins held on to the tail of his coat with the tenacity of a terrier.
"Let me go, I say!" shouted Boniface, shaking his cudgel at Botts.
The ladies screamed and Botts looked amazed. Suddenly a voice was heard issuing from the mouth of the challenger, exclaiming, "Save me, ladies! oh, save me! save me!"
"What! begging, you ugly beast!" exclaimed the landlord. "Yes, you had better beg!"
"Oh, ladies!" exclaimed Botts, in piteous tones. "Don't let him murder me! I put myself under your protection!"
"Who ever heard the like?" said a gentleman standing at the foot of the stairway. "The pitiful poltroon! Come away, landlord! You wouldn't beat a man who has put himself under the protection of the women!"
The ladies gathered round Botts, and vowed that they would protect him. Botts was amazed at their tender solicitude in his behalf. The landlord was puzzled. He dropped his cudgel and walked back to his office, followed by Wiggins, who was intensely disgusted at the poltroonery of his principal.
"Look here, Wiggins," said Boniface, "I can't thrash a man who begs for mercy and puts himself under the protection of petticoats, but tell him to get out of my house. There has been nothing but confusion in it since he came. Let him be off, and tell him to take that drunken fellow Perch with him."
Wiggins undertook to convey the message of the landlord to Botts and the Long Green Boy. Just then Toney and Tom entered, and the former espying the fat little fellow standing in the corridor, exclaimed, "Why, Charley! how are you? where did you come from?"
"Toney, my boy, glad to see you! I've just arrived."
"Let me introduce you to my friend Tom Seddon," said Toney. "Tom, this is Charley Tickle, an old college friend."
Seddon and Tickle shook hands, and looked as if they intended to be most excellent friends.
"Charley," said Toney, "we have not met since we parted at college. Where have you been?"
"All over the world, Toney. I have traveled extensively, I can tell you. I have been a lecturer, a biologist, an artist, and am now a professor. Mind that you always give me my title when we go into company together."
"Where is your local habitation at present?"
"I am studying phrenology under the learned Professor Boneskull."
"Who is he?"
"A celebrated phrenologist. A few days ago he arrived in your town of Mapleton, and has there rented a house. You will find him flourishing when you go back. The room in which he receives visitors will cause you to open your eyes with wonder and awe."
"Why so?" said Toney.
"When you enter, you will see opposite the door a bust of Socrates, and on its head is perched a prodigious owl. If I am with you, the owl will speak to us and say. 'How do you do, gentlemen?—I am glad to see you.'"
"It must be a parrot," said Seddon.
"No, Mr. Seddon, it is an owl. He never speaks except when I am present, and then he sometimes becomes quite eloquent. There is evidently something supernatural about the bird, and I have suggested to Boneskull that it may be a fairy. He has consulted it on several occasions, and has received most excellent advice."
"No doubt of it," said Toney. "The owl is the bird of wisdom."
"Boneskull has a number of animals, birds, and reptiles stuffed, and arranged around his room in glass cases. To show you how implicitly the learned man relies upon what is uttered by the bird of wisdom, I will relate one or two incidents. One morning I met a young fellow who had a rat which he had skinned and stuffed, and having ingeniously fastened bristles to its tail, was persuading people that it was a squirrel. I told him to take it to Boneskull. When I entered his study, the learnedman was examining this curious specimen, and shaking his head rather dubiously. But on my entrance, the owl spoke and assured him it was a genuine squirrel, and of a very rare species; whereupon he purchased it, and it now forms a part of his collection."
"But how happens it," said Seddon, "that the bird never speaks except when you are present?"
"Oh, that is easily accounted for," said Tickle. "The bird of wisdom has a vast deal of discretion. He will not commit himself by any utterance except in the presence of a reliable witness. In me he has confidence, and in no other living man. I one day told a man to take a skull, which he had found, to the phrenologist, and that he would get a good price for it. When I entered, Boneskull had it in his hand and was carefully examining it. The owl now spoke, and said that it was the skull of a distinguished negro lawyer of Timbuctoo, which a missionary had brought home with him on his return from Africa. Boneskull was delighted with this information. He purchased the skull, and always has it before him on his table. It affords him great pleasure to point out its intellectual developments as indicated by the bumps. He says that an intellect once resided in that cranium equal to that of Clay, Webster, or Calhoun, and that its bumps clearly demonstrate that the negro is the equal of the white man in mental capacity. The vender of this valuable specimen of craniology afterwards told me that it was the skull of an idiot who had died in the almshouse; but I did not believe him, for how could I doubt the veracity and intelligence of the bird of wisdom?"
Here the conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Botts and Perch, accompanied by Pate and Wiggins, and followed by Scipio, Hannibal, and Cæsar carrying the baggage of the two former gentlemen. Toney and his friends walked with them to the cars. On the way Wiggins and Botts got into a warm altercation, and the latter became much excited as Wiggins upbraided him with having shown the white feather when menaced by the landlord's cudgel.
"I tell you," exclaimed Botts, "I never uttered a word."
"You did," said Scipio, who was walking behind with a trunk on his shoulder.
"What's that you say?" shouted Botts, turning round and looking at Scipio with a most malignant aspect.
"Indeed, Massa Botts," exclaimed Scipio, "I didn't say nothing."
"Botts begged!" said Hannibal. "Yaw! haw! haw!"
"Asked the women to save him from a beating!" said Cæsar. "Yaw! haw! haw!"
Botts stood glaring at the negroes like a ferocious wild beast. His ugly visage became absolutely frightful. Lifting up his cane, he suddenly charged on Cæsar, who dropped the trunk he was carrying and fled with precipitation, followed by Scipio and Hannibal. Botts followed the fugitives, bellowing out oaths and brandishing his cane until they reached the hotel, when they darted into the basement-story, and hid themselves in some place of refuge.
The landlord was standing on the veranda of the hotel, and behold Scipio and his comrades flying before the infuriated Botts. He turned white with rage and roared out, in a tone of thunder, "Making another muss, are you? Can't you be off without raising a row with my negroes? I'll settle with you, now there are no petticoats to protect you." And the landlord rushed into the house for his cudgel. Botts, having put Scipio, Hannibal, and Cæsar to flight, had glory enough for one day, and without waiting to encounter another antagonist, hastily returned to his companions. Pate and Perch were in great agitation, while Toney and Tom were convulsed with laughter. The Professor stood quietly looking on with a grave and serious aspect. After relieving himself by the discharge of a quantity of profanity, Botts was somewhat pacified by Pate. The trunks were loaded on a wheelbarrow by a sturdy Hibernian, and conveyed to their place of destination; and Perch and his companion, bidding their friends an affectionate farewell, entered a car and were soon wafted away from the beautiful town of Bella Vista.
Pate and Wiggins returned to the hotel, while Toney, Tom, and the Professor sauntered around until a train ofcars stopped, and three daintily dressed young men got out. These gentlemen all recognized Toney Belton, and were introduced by him to his friends as Messrs. Love, Dove, and Bliss.
After an interchange of salutations, Dove, who was a little man, about five feet three inches in height, most elaborately dressed, tapped the toe of his highly polished French boot with an elegant cane, so fragile that it seemed to have been constructed for the purpose of beating off butterflies and other annoying insects, and then asked after M. T. Pate, and inquired the way to the hotel. Having received satisfactory information from Toney in response to his inquiries, he took Love by the arm, and, followed by Bliss, proceeded up the street.
"Those are pretty little men," said the Professor, looking after them with a peculiar expression of fun lurking around the corner of his mouth and twinkling in his eye. "What did you say their names were?"
"Love, Dove, and Bliss," said Toney.
"Love and Dove are the two who have their wings locked together?" asked the Professor.
"Yes," said Toney. "And Bliss is walking behind."
"That is a proper programme," said the Professor.
"When Love and Dove go together, Bliss should always accompany them."
"Now, Tom," said Toney, "you have seen the whole seven."
"The whole seven!" said the Professor. "Who are they?"
"The Seven Sweethearts," said Toney.
"The Seven Sweethearts!" exclaimed the Professor.
"An organization," said Toney, "which originated in Mapleton, and now has numerous ramifications all over the country."
"Indeed!" said the Professor. "I have traveled much but never heard of such an organization until now."
"Then you would like to know something about the Mystic Order of Seven Sweethearts?" said Seddon.
"Very much," said the Professor. "I am compiling a new work on zoology, and will devote a chapter to the species of animal you have mentioned."
"Toney will give you a history of the origin and objects of the organization," said Tom.
"With the greatest pleasure," said Toney. "But come, let us light our cigars and take seats on yonder bench under the trees and make ourselves comfortable."
The three friends proceeded to the spot designated, and while the fragrant smoke was rolling off from their cigars, Toney gave an account of the Mystic Brotherhood, such as Seddon had already been made acquainted with; following it up with a recital of the events which had recently transpired in the town of Bella Vista; including a graphic description of the combat between Botts and the monkey in the ball-room; the contemplated duel between Botts and Bragg, and its singular termination; the terrible quarrel between the latter and the landlord, and the expulsion of the valiant captain from the hotel; the abortive attempt of Perch to commit suicide, and the scenes that ensued up to the time of the arrival of Tickle. The Professor listened with grave interest, and occasionally made a note in a little book which he drew from his pocket and held in his hand. When Toney had concluded, he exclaimed,—
"Well, Toney, I thought that I knew something, but you are a long way ahead of me, my boy, in useful knowledge. Let me see." And he looked over his notes. "The Mystic Order of Seven Sweethearts. An order founded on principles of benevolence. Its object the welfare of women. To prevent marriages. Single women much happier than those who are married. A grand idea of M. T. Pate. Toney, this organization must flourish. It will soon get far ahead of the Order of Seven Wise Men. But it must have leaders. Who are its officers?"
"I have a list of them here," said Toney, drawing a paper from his pocket-book.
"What is this?" said the Professor, taking the paper in his hand and glancing over it. It read as follows:
"What do those letters signify?" said the Professor.
"I have been puzzling my held over them for a long while," said Toney. "Suppose you and Tom Seddon now aid me in deciphering them."
"Agreed!" said Tom.
"N. G. G.," said the Professor. "What does that mean?"
"I can't make it out," said Toney.
"Noble Grand Gander," suggested Tom.
"Good!" said Toney. "Tom, you are an Œdipus!"
"M. T. Pate is the Noble Grand Gander of the organization," said the Professor, making an entry in his book. "M. W. D. What does that signify?"
"You are too hard for me," said Toney.
"Most Worthy Donkey," said Tom.
"Hurrah!" said Toney,—"that's it, I am certain. Tom, you should open a guessing school,—you would make your fortune."
"P. O. P. F.," said the Professor. "What's that?"
"Can't you guess, Tom?" said Toney.
"I am balked," said Tom.
"Botts?" said the Professor. "Is he the handsome man who was chasing the negroes?"
"The same," said Toney.
"Prince Of Pretty Fellows," suggested the Professor.
"That's it! excellent!" exclaimed Toney.
"G. G. G.?" said the Professor.
"Great Green Gosling," said Tom.
"Perch is the Great Green Gosling," said theProfessor, making an entry in his book. "And now for Love. What is the signification of D. A.?"
"Dainty Adorer," said Toney; and the Professor made a note, and then inquired the meaning of N. N.
"Noble Nonentity," said Tom.
"That hits Dove exactly," said Toney.
"There is one more," said the Professor.
"What is that?" asked Toney.
"W. W.," said the Professor.
"Winsome Wooer," suggested Seddon.
"That completes the list," said the Professor, looking over his note-book and making another entry.
"Bliss is the Winsome Wooer. Toney, how did you procure this curious document?"
"It came into my possession under very extraordinary circumstances," said Toney. "Would you like to hear the story?"
"I would, indeed," said the Professor.
"Let us have it," said Tom.
"You have heard me speak of the Widow Wild, who lives in the vicinity of Mapleton?" said Toney.
"Frequently," said Tom.
"The widow has a very handsome residence, and in it dwells a very pretty daughter."
"The lovely Rosabel Wild?" said Tom.
"How did you learn her name?" inquired Toney.
"Oh, I have learned that and much more in addition," said Tom.
"What more?" said Toney.
"I have been credibly informed that a certain young lawyer, who answers to the name of Toney Belton, and who seldom deigns to look at any other woman, is wonderfully enchanted and woefully bewitched by the lovely Rosabel Wild. Is it not so? Come, make a clean breast of it, Toney. An honest confession is good for the soul?"
"Well, Tom, I will be candid with you, and say, in sailor's phraseology, that if I were about to embark on a voyage of matrimony, as captain of the craft I would like to have Rosabel Wild for my mate. But the widow is very eccentric, and has often declared, in the mostemphatic terms, that no man can marry her daughter unless he is worth a hundred thousand dollars. Now, you know that I have not got a hundred thousand dollars."
"But your bachelor uncle, Colonel Abraham Belton, has, and you will be his heir."
"That is by no means so certain as you seem to suppose. Colonel Abraham Belton, although he has lived longer than yourself by some twenty years, is really as young a man as either of us, for nature has given him a constitution of iron. He is so tough that time has never been able to plow a furrow in his face, nor has he a gray hair in his whiskers. He may marry a wife."
"Very true," said the Professor; "and she may raise up children unto Abraham."
"And," said Toney, "the children of Abraham may deprive me of the hundred thousand dollars."
"Toney, you are a man of sense," said the Professor; "and the French maxim-maker says that a wise man may sometimes love like a madman, but never like a fool. But let us hear your story."
"Well, you must know that I am really a very great favorite with the Widow Wild, although I have not the requisite sum for a son-in-law. I believe that Rosabel would be willing to wait until I get the hundred thousand dollars. Indeed, to be candid, I have consulted her, and she has expressed a decided determination to do so. This, however, is a profound secret between the young lady and myself, which we have never confided to the widow. I am often at the house."
"I should suppose so," said Tom.
"On a certain evening I was there, and the clock striking eleven, I rose and was about to take my leave, when the widow urged me to remain, saying that she had received an intimation that Love, Dove, and Bliss, who, you must know, sing as sweetly as nightingales, were coming to entertain Rosabel with a serenade. Now, the widow has a singular antipathy to the Seven Sweethearts, and not one of them can gain admission to her mansion; but Love, Dove, and Bliss had met Rosabel a few nights before at a party, where Dove kept fluttering around her until the widow, who was also present,expressed a desire to take him home and put him in a cage with her canary-bird. It was a fine moonlight night, and we sat conversing in the parlor until about twelve o'clock, when we heard the voice of Dove under Rosabel's window, singing, in mellifluous notes,—