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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.03.09.01*END* +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael Hart] + + + + + +This etext was produced by anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers + + + + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Complete Works of +Artemus Ward (Charles Farrar Browne) Part 3 + +THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ARTEMUS WARD, PART 3, STORIES AND ROMANCES + +(CHARLES FARRAR BROWNE) + +With a biographical sketch by Melville D. Landon, "Eli Perkins" + +CONTENTS. + +PART III. + +Stories and Romances. + +3.1. Moses the Sassy; or, The Disguised Duke. + +3.2. Marion: A Romance of the French School. + +3.3. William Barker, the Young Patriot. + +3.4. A Romance--The Conscript. + +3.5. A Romance--Only a Mechanic. + +3.6. Roberto the Rover; A Tale of Sea and Shore. + +3.7. Red Hand: A Tale of Revenge. + +3.8. Pyrotechny: A Romance after the French. + +3.9. The Last of the Culkinses. + +3.10. A Mormon Romance--Reginald Gloverson. + +PART III. STORIES AND ROMANCES. + +3.1. MOSES THE SASSY; OR, THE DISGUISED DUKE. + + CHAPTER I.--ELIZY. + +My story opens in the classic presinks of Bostin. In the parler +of a bloated aristocratic mansion on Bacon street sits a luvly +young lady, whose hair is cuvered ore with the frosts of between +17 Summers. She has just sot down to the piany, and is warblin +the popler ballad called "Smells of the Notion," in which she +tells how, with pensiv thought, she wandered by a C beat shore. +The son is settin in its horizon, and its gorjus light pores in a +golden meller flud through the winders, and makes the young lady +twict as beautiful nor what she was before, which is onnecessary. +She is magnificently dressed up in a Berage basque, with poplin +trimmins, More Antique, Ball Morals and 3 ply carpeting. Also, +considerable gauze. Her dress contains 16 flounders and her +shoes is red morocker, with gold spangles onto them. Presently +she jumps up with a wild snort, and pressin her hands to her +brow, she exclaims: "Methinks I see a voice!" + +A noble youth of 27 summers enters. He is attired in a red shirt +and black trowsis, which last air turned up over his boots; his +hat, which it is a plug, being cockt onto one side of his +classical hed. In sooth, he was a heroic lookin person, with a +fine shape. Grease, in its barmiest days, near projuced a more +hefty cavileer. Gazin upon him admiringly for a spell, Elizy +(for that was her name) organized herself into a tabloo, and +stated as follers. + +"Ha! do me eyes deceive me earsight? Is it some dreams? No, I +reckon not! That frame! them store close! those nose! Yes, it is +me own, me only Moses!" + +He (Moses) folded her to his hart, with the remark that he was "a +hunkey boy." + + CHAPTER II.--WAS MOSES Of NOBLE BIRTH? + +Moses was foreman of Engine Co. No. 40. Forty's fellers had just +bin havin an annual reunion with Fifty's fellers, on the day I +introjuce Moses to my readers, and Moses had his arms full of +trofees, to wit: 4 scalps, 5 eyes, 3 fingers, 7 ears, (which he +chawed off) and several half and quarter sections of noses. When +the fair Elizy recovered from her delight at meetin Moses, she +said:--"How hast the battle gonest? Tell me!" + +"We chawed 'em up--that's what we did!" said the bold Moses. + +"I thank the gods!" said the fair Elizy. "Thou did'st excellent +well. And, Moses," she continnered, layin her hed confidinly +agin his weskit, "dost know I sumtimes think thou istest of noble +birth?" + +"No!" said he, wildly ketchin hold of hisself. "You don't say +so!" + +"Indeed do I! Your dead grandfather's sperrit comest to me the +tother night." + +"Oh no, I guess it's a mistake," said Moses. + +"I'll bet two dollars and a quarter he did!" replied Elizy. "He +said, 'Moses is a Disguised Juke!'" + +"You mean Duke," said Moses. + +"Dost not the actors all call it Juke?" said she. + +That settled the matter. + +"I hav thought of this thing afore," said Moses, abstractedly. +"If it is so, then thus it must be! 2 B or not 2 B! Which? +Sow, sow! But enuff. O life! life!--YOU'RE TOO MANY FOR ME!" +He tore out some of his pretty yeller hair, stampt on the floor +sevril times, and was gone. + + CHAPTER III.--THE PIRUT FOILED. + +Sixteen long and weary years has elapst since the seens narrated +in the last chapter took place. A noble ship, the Sary Jane, is +a sailin from France to Ameriky via the Wabash Canal. A pirut +ship is in hot pursoot of the Sary. The pirut capting isn't a +man of much principle and intends to kill all the people on bored +the Sary and confiscate the wallerbles. The capting of the S.J. +is on the pint of givin in, when a fine lookin feller in russet +boots and a buffalo overcoat rushes forored and obsarves: + +"Old man! go down stairs! Retire to the starbud bulkhed! I'll +take charge of this Bote!" + +"Owdashus cuss!" yelled the capting, "away with thee or I shall +do mur-rer-der-r-r!" + +"Skurcely," obsarved the stranger, and he drew a diamond-hilted +fish-knife and cut orf the capting's hed. He expired shortly, +his last words bein, "we are governed too much." + +"People!" sed the stranger, "I'm the Juke d'Moses!" + +"Old hoss!" sed a passenger, "methinks thou art blowin!" +whareupon the Juke cut orf his hed also. + +"Oh that I should live to see myself a dead body!" screamed the +unfortnit man. "But don't print any verses about my deth in the +newspapers, for if you do I'll haunt ye!" + +"People!" sed the Juke, "I alone can save you from yon bloody +pirut! Ho! a peck of oats!" The oats was brought, and the Juke, +boldly mountin the jibpoop, throwed them onto the towpath. The +pirut rapidly approached, chucklin with fiendish delight at the +idee of increasin his ill-gotten gains. But the leadin hoss of +the pirut ship stopt suddent on comin to the oats, and commenst +for to devour them. In vain the piruts swore and throwd stones +and bottles at the hoss--he wouldn't budge a inch. Meanwhile the +Sary Jane, her hosses on the full jump, was fast leavin the pirut +ship! + +"Onct agin do I escape deth!" sed the Juke between his clencht +teeth, still on the jibpoop. + + CHAPTER IV. THE WANDERER'S RETURN. + +The Juke was Moses the Sassy! Yes, it was! + +He had bin to France and now he was home agin in Bostin, which +gave birth to a Bunker Hill!! He had some trouble in gitting +hisself acknowledged as Juke in France, as the Orleans Dienasty +and Borebones were fernest him, but he finally conkered. Elizy +knowd him right off, as one of his ears and a part of his nose +had bin chawed off in his fights with opposition firemen during +boyhood's sunny hours. They lived to a green old age, beloved by +all, both grate and small. Their children, of which they have +numerous, often go up onto the Common and see the Fountain +squirt. + +This is my 1st attempt at writin a Tail & it is far from bein +perfeck, but if I have indoosed folks to see that in 9 cases out +of 10 they can either make life as barren as the Desert of Sarah, +or as joyyus as a flower garding, my object will have been +accomplished, and more too. + +3.2. MARION: A ROMANCE OF THE FRENCH SCHOOL. + + I. + + --, Friday, --, 1860. + +On the sad sea shore! Always to hear the moaning of these dismal +waves! + +Listen. I will tell you my story--my story of love, of misery, +of black despair. + +I am a moral Frenchman. + +She whom I adore, whom I adore still, is the wife of a fat +Marquis--a lop-eared, blear-eyed, greasy Marquis. A man without +soul. A man without sentiment, who cares naught for moonlight +and music. A low, practical man, who pays his debts. I hate +him. + + II. + +She, my soul's delight, my empress, my angel, is superbly +beautiful. + +I loved her at first sight--devotedly, madly. + +She dashed past me in her coupe. I saw her but a moment--perhaps +only an instant--but she took me captive then and there, +forevermore. + +Forevermore! + +I followed her, after that, wherever she went. At length she +came to notice, to smile upon me. My motto was en avant! That +is a French word. I got it out of the back part of Worcester's +Dictionary. + + III. + +She wrote me that I might come and see her at her own house. Oh, +joy, joy unutterable, to see her at her own house! + +I went to see her after nightfall, in the soft moonlight. + +She came down the graveled walk to meet me, on this beautiful +midsummer night--came to me in pure white, her golden hair in +splendid disorder--strangely beautiful, yet in tears! + +She told me her fresh grievances. + +The Marquis, always a despot, had latterly misused her most +vilely. + +That very morning, at breakfast, he had cursed the fishballs and +sneered at the pickled onions. + +She is a good cook. The neighbors will tell you so. And to be +told by the base Marquis--a man who, previous to his marriage, +had lived at the cheap eating-houses--to be told by him that her +manner of frying fishballs was a failure--it was too much. + +Her tears fell fast. I too wept. I mixed my sobs with her'n. +"Fly with me!" I cried. + +Her lips met mine. I held her in my arms. I felt her breath +upon my cheek! It was Hunkey. + +"Fly with me. To New York! I will write romances for the Sunday +papers--real French romances, with morals to them. My style will +be appreciated. Shop girls and young mercantile persons will +adore it, and I will amass wealth with my ready pen." + +Ere she could reply--ere she could articulate her ecstasy, her +husband, the Marquis, crept snake-like upon me. + +Shall I write it? He kicked me out of the garden--he kicked me +into the street. + +I did not return. How could I? I, so ethereal, so full of soul, +of sentiment, of sparkling originality! He, so gross, so +practical, so lop-eared! + +Had I returned, the creature would have kicked me again. + +So I left Paris for this place--this place, so lonely, so dismal. + +Ah me! + +Oh dear! + +3.3. A ROMANCE.--WILLIAM BARKER, THE YOUNG PATRIOT. + + I. + +"No, William Barker, you cannot have my daughter's hand in +marriage until you are her equal in wealth and social position." + +The speaker was a haughty old man of some sixty years, and the +person whom he addressed was a fine-looking young man of +twenty-five. + +With a sad aspect the young man withdrew from the stately +mansion. + + II. + +Six months later the young man stood in the presence of the +haughty old man. + +"What! YOU here again?" angrily cried the old man. + +"Ay, old man," proudly exclaimed William Barker. "I am here, +your daughter's equal and yours?" + +The old man's lips curled with scorn. A derisive smile lit up +his cold features; when, casting violently upon the marble center +table an enormous roll of greenbacks, William Barker cried-- + +"See! Look on this wealth. And I've tenfold more! Listen, old +man! You spurned me from your door. But I did not despair. I +secured a contract for furnishing the Army of the -- with beef--" + +"Yes, yes!" eagerly exclaimed the old man. + +"--and I bought up all the disabled cavalry horses I could find--" + +"I see! I see!" cried the old man. "And good beef they make, +too." + +"They do! they do! and the profits are immense." + +"I should say so!" + +"And now, sir, I claim your daughter's fair hand!" + +"Boy, she is yours. But hold! Look me in the eye. Throughout +all this have you been loyal?" + +"To the core!" cried William Barker. + +"And," continued the old man, in a voice husky with emotion, "are +you in favor of a vigorous prosecution of the war?" + +"I am, I am!" + +"Then, boy take her! Maria, child, come hither. Your William +claims thee. Be happy, my children! And whatever our lot in life +may be, LET US ALL SUPPORT THE GOVERNMENT!" + +3.4. A ROMANCE--THE CONSCRIPT. + +[Which may bother the reader a little unless he is familiar with +the music of the day.] + + CHAPTER I. + +Philander Reed struggled with spool-thread and tape in a dry- +goods store at Ogdensburg, on the St. Lawrence River, State of +New York. He Rallied Round the Flag, Boys, and HAILED Columbia +every time she passed that way. One day a regiment returning +from the war Came Marching Along, bringing An Intelligent +Contraband with them, who left the South about the time Babylon +was a-Fallin', and when it was apparent to all well-ordered minds +that the Kingdom was Coming, accompanied by the Day of Jubilee. +Philander left his spool-thread and tape, rushed into the street, +and by his Long-Tail Blue, sed, "Let me kiss him for his Mother." +Then, with patriotic jocularity, he inquired, "How is your High +Daddy in the Morning?" to which Pomp of Cudjo's Cave replied, +"That poor Old Slave has gone to rest, we ne'er shall see him +more! But U.S.G. is the man for me, or Any other Man." Then he +Walked Round. + +"And your Master," sed Philander, "where is he?" + +"Massa's in the cold, cold ground--at least I hope so!" sed the +gay contraband. + +"March on, March on! all hearts rejoice!" cried the Colonel, who +was mounted on a Bob-tailed nag--on which, in times of Peace, my +soul, O Peace! he had betted his money. + +"Yaw," sed a German Bold Sojer Boy, "we don't-fights-mit-Segel as +much as we did." + +The regiment marched on, and Philander betook himself to his +mother's Cottage Near the Banks of that Lone River, and rehearsed +the stirring speech he was to make that night at a war meeting. + +"It's just before the battle, Mother," he said, "and I want to +say something that will encourage Grant." + + CHAPTER II.--MABEL. + +Mabel Tucker was an orphan. Her father, Dan Tucker, was run over +one day by a train of cars though he needn't have been, for the +kind-hearted engineer told him to Git out of the Way. + +Mabel early manifested a marked inclination for the milinery +business, and at the time we introduce her to our readers she was +Chief Engineer of a Millinery Shop and Boss of a Sewing Machine. + +Philander Reed loved Mabel Tucker, and Ever of her was Fondly +Dreaming; and she used to say, "Will you love me Then as Now?" to +which he would answer that he would, and WITHOUT the written +consent of his parents. + +She sat in the parlor of the Cot where she was Born, one Summer's +eve, with pensive thought, when Somebody came Knocking at the +Door. It was Philander. Fond Embrace and things. Thrilling +emotions. P. very pale and shaky in the legs. Also, sweaty. + +"Where hast thou been?" she sed. "Hast been gathering shells +from youth to age, and then leaving them like a che-eild? Why +this tremors? Why these Sadfulness?" + +"Mabeyuel!" he cried. "Mabeyuel! They've Drafted me into the +Army!" + +An orderly Surgeant now appears and says, "Come, Philander, let's +be a-marching;" And he tore her from his embrace (P.'s) and +marched the conscript to the Examining Surgeon's office. + +Mabel fainted in two places. It was worse than Brother's +Fainting at the Door. + + CHAPTER III.--THE CONSCRIPT. + +Philander Reed hadn't three hundred dollars, being a dead-broken +Reed, so he must either become one of the noble Band who are +Coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more, or skedaddle +across the St. Lawrence River to the Canada Line. As his +opinions had recently undergone a radical change, he chose the +latter course, and was soon Afloat, afloat, on the swift rolling +tide. "Row, brothers, row," he cried, "the stream runs fast, the +Sergeant is near, and the Zamination's past, and I'm a able- +bodied man." + +Landing, he at once imprinted a conservative kiss on the Canada +Line, and feelingly asked himself, "Who will care for Mother now? +But I propose to stick it out on this Line if it takes all +Summer." + + CHAPTER IV.--THE MEETING. + +It was evening, IT was. The Star of the Evening, Beautiful Star, +shone brilliantly, adorning the sky with those "Neutral" tints +which have characterized all British skies ever since this War +broke out. + +Philander sat on the Canada Line, playing with his Yard-stick, +and perhaps about to take the measure of an unmade piece of +calico; when Mabel, with a wild cry of joy, sprang from a small +boat to his side. The meeting was too much. They divided a good +square faint between them this time. At last Philander found his +utterance, and said, "Do they think of me at Home, do they ever +think of me?" + +"No," she replied, "but they do at the recruiting office." + +"Ha! 'tis well." + +"Nay, dearest," Mabel pleaded, "come home and go to the war like +a man! I will take your place in the Dry Goods store. True, a +musket is a little heavier than a yardstick, but isn't it a +rather more manly weapon?" + +"I don't see it," was Philander's reply; "besides, this war isn't +conducted accordin' to the Constitution and Union. When it is-- +when it is, Mabeyuel, I will return and enlist as a +Convalescent!" + +"Then, sir," she said, with much American disgust in her +countenance, "then, sir, farewell!" + +"Farewell!" he said, "and When this Cruel War is Over, pray that +we may meet again!" + +"Nary!" cried Mabel, her eyes flashing warm fire,--"nary. None +but the Brave deserve the Sanitary Fair! A man who will desert +his country in its hour of trial would drop Faro checks into the +Contribution Box on Sunday. I hain't got time to tarry--I hain't +got time to stay!--but here's a gift at parting: a White +Feather: wear it in your hat!" and She was Gone from his gaze, +like a beautiful dream. + +Stung with remorse and mosquitoes, this miserable young man, in a +fit of frenzy, unsheathed his glittering dry-goods scissors, cut +off four yards (good measure) of the Canada Line, and hanged +himself on a Willow Tree. Requiescat in Tape. His stick drifted +to My Country, 'tis of thee! And may be seen, in connection with +many others, on the stage of any New York theatre every night. + +The Canadians won't have any line pretty soon. The skedaddlers +will steal it. Then the Canadians won't know whether they're in +the United States or not, in which case they may be drafted. + +Mabel married a Brigadier-General, and is happy. + +3.5. A ROMANCE--ONLY A MECHANIC. + +In a sumptuously furnished parlor in Fifth Avenue, New York, sat +a proud and haughty belle. Her name was Isabel Sawtelle. Her +father was a millionaire, and his ships, richly laden, ploughed +many a sea. + +By the side of Isabel Sawtelle sat a young man with a clear, +beautiful eye, and a massive brow. + +"I must go," he sed, "the foreman will wonder at my absence." + +"The FOREMAN?" asked Isabel in a tone of surprise. + +"Yes, the foreman of the shop where I work." + +"Foreman--shop--WORK! What! do YOU work." + +"Aye, Miss Sawtelle! I am a cooper!" and his eyes flashed with +honest pride. + +"What's that?" she asked; "it is something about barrels, isn't +it!" + +"It is!" he said, with a flashing nostril. "And hogsheads." + +"Then go!" she said in a tone of disdain--"go AWAY!" + +"Ha!" he cried, "you spurn me, then, because I am a mechanic. +Well, be it so! though the time will come, Isabel Sawtelle," he +added, and nothing could exceed his looks at this moment--"when +you will bitterly remember the cooper you now so cruelly cast +off? FAREWELL!" + + . . . . + +Years rolled on. Isabel Sawtelle married a miserable aristocrat, +who recently died of delirium tremens. Her father failed, and is +now a raving maniac, and wants to bite little children. All her +brothers (except one) were sent to the penitentiary for burglary, +and her mother peddles clams that are stolen for her by little +George, her only son that has his freedom. Isabel's sister +Bianca rides an immoral spotted horse in the circus, HER husband +having long since been hanged for murdering his own uncle on his +mother's side. Thus we see that it is always best to marry a +mechanic. + +3.6. ROBERTO THE ROVER:--A TALE OF SEA AND SHORE. + + CHAPTER I.--FRANCE. + +Our story opens in the early part of the year 17--. France was +rocking wildly from centre to circumference. The arch despot and +unscrupulous man, Richard the III., was trembling like an aspen +leaf upon his throne. He had been successful, through the +valuable aid of Richelieu and Sir. Wm. Donn, in destroying the +Orleans Dysentery, but still he trembled? O'Mulligan, the +snake-eater of Ireland, and Schnappsgoot of Holland, a retired +dealer in gin and sardines, had united their forces--some nineteen +men and a brace of bull pups in all--and were overtly at work, +their object being to oust the tyrant. O'Mulligan was a young man +between fifty-three years of age and was chiefly distinguished +for being the son of his aunt on his great grandfather's side. +Schnappsgoot was a man of liberal education, having passed three +weeks at Oberlin College. He was a man of great hardihood, also, +and would frequently read an entire column of "railway matters" +in the "Cleveland Herald" without shrieking with agony. + + CHAPTER II.--THE KING. + +The tyrant Richard the III. (late Mr. Gloster) sat upon his +throne in the Palace d' St. Cloud. He was dressed in his best +clothes, and gorgeous trappings surrounded him everywhere. +Courtiers, in glittering and golden armor, stood ready at his +beck. He sat moodily for a while, when suddenly his sword +flashed from its silver scabbard, and he shouted-- + +"Slaves, some wine, ho!" + +The words had scarcely escaped his lips ere a bucket of champagne +and a hoe were placed before him. + +As the king raised the bucket to his lips, a deep voice near by, +proceeding from the mouth of the noble Count Staghisnibs, cried-- +"Drink hearty, old feller." + +"Reports traveling on lightning-wings, whisper of strange goings +on and cuttings up throughout this kingdom. Knowest thou aught +of these things, most noble Hellitysplit?" and the king drew from +the upper pocket of his gold-faced vest a paper of John +Anderson's solace and proceeded to take a chaw. + +"Treason stalks monster-like throughout unhappy France, my +liege!" said the noble Hellitysplit. "The ranks of the P.Q.R.'s +are daily swelling, and the G.R.J.A.'s are constantly on the +increase. Already the peasantry scout at cat-fish, and demand +pickled salmon for their noonday repasts. But, my liege," and +the brave Hellitysplit eyes flashed fire, "myself and sword are +at thy command?" + +"Bully for you, Count," said the king. "But soft: methinks +report--perchance unjustly--hast spoken suspiciously of thee, +most Royal d'Sardine? How is this? Is it a newspaper yarn? +WHAT'S UP?" + +D'Sardine meekly approached the throne, knelt at the king's feet, +and said: "Most patient, gray, and red-headed skinner; my very +approved skin-plaster: that I've been asked to drink by the +P.Q.R.'s, it is most true, true I have imbibed sundry mugs of +lager with them. The very head and front of my offending hath +this extent, no more." + +"'Tis well!" said the King, rising and looking fiercely around. +"Hadst thou proved false I would with my own good sword have cut +off yer head, and spilled your ber-lud all over the floor! If I +wouldn't, blow me!" + + CHAPTER III.--THE ROVER. + +Thrilling as the scenes depicted in the preceding chapter +indubitably were, those of this are decidedly THRILLINGER. +Again are we in the mighty presence of the King, and again is +he surrounded by splendour and gorgeously-mailed courtiers. A +sea-faring man stands before him. It is Roberto the Rover, +disguised as a common sailor. + +"So," said the King, "thou wouldst have audience with me!" + +"Aye aye, yer 'onor," said the sailor, "just tip us yer grapplin +irons and pipe all hands on deck. Reef home yer jib poop and +splice yer main topsuls. Man the jibboom and let fly yer +top-gallunts. I've seen some salt water in my days, yer land +lubber, but shiver my timbers if I hadn't rather coast among +seagulls than landsharks. My name is Sweet William. You're old +Dick the Three. Ahoy! Awast! Dam my eyes!" and Sweet William +pawed the marble floor and swung his tarpaulin after the manner +of sailors on the stage, and consequently not a bit like those +on shipboard. + +"Mariner," said the King, gravely, "thy language is exceeding +lucid, and leads me to infer that things is workin' bad." + +"Aye, aye, my hearty!" yelled Sweet William, in dulcet strains, +reminding the King of the "voluptuous smell of physic," spoken +of by the late Mr. Byron. + +"What wouldst thou, seafaring man?" asked the King. + +"This!" cried the Rover, suddenly taking off his maritime +clothing and putting on an expensive suit of silk, bespangled +with diamonds. "This! I am Roberto the Rover!" + +The King was thunder-struck. Cowering back in his chair of +state, he said in a tone of mingled fear and amazement, "Well, +may I be gaul-darned!" + +"Ber-lud! Ber-lud! Ber-lud!" shrieked the Rover, as he drew a +horse-pistol and fired it at the King, who fell fatally killed, +his last words being, "WE ARE GOVENRED TOO MUCH--THIS IS THE LAST +OF EARTH!!!" At this exciting juncture Messrs. O'Mulligan and +Schnappsgoot (who had previously entered into a copartnership +with the Rover for the purpose of doing a general killing +business) burst into the room and cut off the heads and let out +the inwards of all the noblemen they encountered. They then +killed themselves and died like heroes, wrapped up in the Star +Spangled Banner, to slow music. + + FINALE. + +The Rover fled. He was captured near Marseilles and thrust into +prison, where he lay for sixteen weary years, all attempts to +escape being futile. One night a lucky thought struck him. He +raised the window and got out. But he was unhappy. Remorse and +dyspepsia preyed upon his vitals. He tried Boerhave's Holland +Bitters and the Retired Physician's Sands of Life, and got well. +He then married the lovely Countess D'Smith, and lived to a green +old age, being the triumph of virtue and downfall of vice. + +3.7. RED HAND: A TALE OF REVENGE. + + CHAPTER I. + +"Life's but a walking shadow--a poor player."--Shakespeare. + +"Let me die to sweet music."--J.W. Shuckers. + +"Go forth, Clarence Stanley! Hence to the bleak world, dog! You +have repaid my generosity with the blackest ingratitude. You +have forged my name on a five thousand dollar check--have +repeatedly robbed my money drawer--have perpetrated a long series +of high-handed villanies, and now to-night, because, forsooth, +I'll not give you more money to spend on your dissolute +companions, you break a chair over my aged head. Anyway! You +are a young man of small moral principle. Don't ever speak to me +again!" + +These harsh words fell from the lips of Horace Blinker, one of +the merchant princes of New York City. He spoke to Clarence +Stanley, his adopted son and a beautiful youth of nineteen +summers. In vain did Clarence plead his poverty, his tender age, +his inexperience; in vain did he fasten those lustrous blue eyes +of his appealingly and tearfully upon Mr. Blinker, and tell him +he would make the pecuniary matter all right in the fall, and +that he merely shattered a chair over his head by way of a joke. +The stony-hearted man was remorseless, and that night Clarence +Stanly became a wanderer in the wide, wide world. As he went +forth he uttered these words: "H. Blinker, beware! A RED HAND +is around, my fine feller!" + + CHAPTER. II. + +"--a man of strange wild mien--one who has seen trouble."--Sir +Walter Scott. + +"You ask me, don't I wish to see the Constitution dissolved and +broken up. I answer, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!"--H.W. Faxon. + +"They will join our expedition."--Anon. + +"Go in on your muscle."--President Buchanan's instructions to the +Collector of Toledo. + +"Westward the hoe of Empire Stars its way."--George N. True. + +"Where liberty dwells there is my kedentry."--C.R. Dennett. + +Seventeen years have become ingulfed in the vast and moist ocean +of eternity since the scene depicted in the last chapter +occurred. We are in Mexico. Come with me to the Scarlet +Banditti's cave. It is night. A tempest is raging tempestuously +without, but within we find a scene of dazzling magnificence. +The cave is spacious. Chandeliers of solid gold hang up +suspended around the gorgeously furnished room, and the marble +floor is star-studded with flashing diamonds. It must have cost +between two hundred dollars to fit this cave up. It embraced all +of the modern improvements. At the head of the cave life-size +photographs (by Ryder) of the bandits, and framed in gilt, were +hung up suspended. The bandits were seated around a marble +table, which was sculped regardless of expense, and were drinking +gin and molasses out of golden goblets. When they got out of gin +fresh supplies were brought in by slaves from a two-horse wagon +outside, which had been captured that day, after a desperate and +bloody struggle, by the bandits, on the plains of Buena Vista. + +At the head of the table sat the Chief. His features were +swarthy but elegant. He was splendidly dressed in new clothes, +and had that voluptuous, dreamy air of grandeur about him which +would at once rivet the gaze of folks generally. In answer to a +highly enthusiastic call he arose and delivered an able and +eloquent speech. We regret that our space does not permit us to +give this truly great speech in full--we can merely give a +synopsis of the distinguished speaker's remarks. "Comrades! +listen to your chief. You all know my position on Lecompton. +Where I stand in regard to low tolls on the Ohio Canal is equally +clear to you, and so with the Central American question. I +believe I understand my little Biz. I decline defining my +position on the Horse Railroad until after the Spring Election. +Whichever way I says I don't say so myself unless I says so also. +Comrades! be virtuous and you'll be happy." The Chief sat down +amidst great applause, and was immediately presented with an +elegant gold headed cane by his comrades, as a slight testimonial +of their respect. + + CHAPTER III. + +"This is the last of Earth."--Page. + +"The hope of America lies in its well-conducted school-houses." + --Bone. + +"I wish it to be distinctly understood that I want the Union to +be Reserved."--N.T. Nash. + +"Sine qua non Ips Dixit Quid pro quo cui bono Ad infininim E +Unibus plurum."--Brown. + +Two hours later. Return we again to the Banditti's Cave. +Revelry still holds high carnival among the able and efficient +bandits. A knock is heard at the door. From his throne at the +head of the table the Chief cries, "Come in!" and an old man, +haggard, white-haired, and sadly bent, enters the cave. + +"Messieurs," he tremblingly ejaculates, "for seventeen years I +have not tasted of food!" + +"Well," says a kind-hearted bandit, "if that's so I expect you +must be rather faint. We'll get you up a warm meal immediately, +stranger." + +"Hold!" whispered the Chief in tones of thunder, and rushing +slowly to the spot; "this is about played out. Behold in me RED +HAND, the Bandit Chief, once Clarence Stanley, whom you cruelly +turned into a cold world seventeen years ago this very night! +Old man, perpare to go up!" Saying which the Chief drew a sharp +carving knife and cut off Mr. Blinker's ears. He then scalped +Mr. B., and cut all of his toes off. The old man struggled to +extricate himself from his unpleasant situation, but was +unsuccessful. + +"My goodness," he piteously exclaimed, "I must say you are pretty +rough. It seems to me--." + +This is all of this intensely interesting tale that will be +published in the "Plain Dealer." The remainder of it may be +found in the great moral family paper, "The Windy Flash" +published in New York by Stimpkins. "The Windy Flash" circulates +4,000,000 copies weekly. + + IT IS THE ALL-FIREDEST PAPER EVER PRINTED. + IT IS THE ALL-FIREDEST PAPER EVER PRINTED. + IT IS THE ALL-FIREDEST PAPER EVER PRINTED. + IT IS THE ALL-FIREDEST PAPER EVER PRINTED. + + IT'S THE CUSSEDEST BEST PAPER IN THE WORLD. + IT'S THE CUSSEDEST BEST PAPER IN THE WORLD. + IT'S THE CUSSEDEST BEST PAPER IN THE WORLD. + IT'S THE CUSSEDEST BEST PAPER IN THE WORLD. + + IT'S A MORAL PAPER. + IT'S A MORAL PAPER. + IT'S A MORAL PAPER. + IT'S A MORAL PAPER. + + SOLD AT ALL THE CORNER GROCERIES. + SOLD AT ALL THE CORNER GROCERIES. + SOLD AT ALL THE CORNER GROCERIES. + SOLD AT ALL THE CORNER GROCERIES. + +3.8. PYROTECHNY: A ROMANCE AFTER THE FRENCH. + + I.--THE PEACEFUL HAMLET. + +Nestling among the grand hills of New Hampshire, in the United +States of America, is a village called Waterbury. + +Perhaps you were never there. + +I do not censure you if you never were. + +One can get on very well without going to Waterbury. + +Indeed, there are millions of meritorious persons who were never +there, and yet they are happy. + +In this peaceful hamlet lived a young man named Pettingill. + +Reuben Pettingill. + +He was an agriculturist. + +A broad-shouldered, deep-chested agriculturist. + +He was contented to live in this peaceful hamlet. + +He said it was better than a noisy Othello. + +Thus do these simple children of nature joke in a first class +manner. + + II.--MYSELF. + +I write this romance in the French style. + +Yes: something that way. + +The French style consists of making just as many paragraphs as +possible. + +Thus one may fill up a column in a very short time. + +I am paid by the column, and the quicker I can fill up a column-- +but this is a matter to which we will not refer. + +We will let this matter pass. + + III.--PETTINGILL. + +Reuben Pettingill was extremely industrious. + +He worked hard all the year round on his father's little farm. + +Right he was! + +Industry is a very fine thing. + +It is one of the finest things of which we have any knowledge. + +Yet do not frown, "do not weep for me," when I state that I don't +like it. + +It doesn't agree with me. + +I prefer indolence. + +I am happiest when I am idle. + +I could live for months without performing any kind of labour, +and at the expiration of that time I should feel fresh and +vigorous enough to go right on in the same way for numerous more +months. + +This should not surprise you. + +Nothing that a modern novelist does should excite astonishment in +any well-regulated mind. + + IV.--INDEPENDENCE DAY. + +The 4th of July is always celebrated in America with guns, and +processions, and banners, and all those things. + +You know why we celebrate this day. + +The American Revolution, in 1775, was perhaps one of the finest +revolutions that was ever seen. But I have not time to give you +a full history of the American Revolution. It would consume +years to do it, and I might weary you. + +One 4th of July Reuben Pettingill went to Boston. + +He saw great sights. + +He saw the dense throng of people, the gay volunteers, the +banners, and, above all, he saw the fireworks. + +I despise myself for using so low a word, but the fireworks +"licked" him. + +A new world was opened to this young man. + +He returned to his parents and the little farm among the hills, +with his heart full of fireworks. + +He said, "I will make some myself." + +He said this while eating a lobster on top of the coach. + +He was an extraordinary skilful young man in the use of a common +clasp-knife. + +With that simple weapon he could make, from soft wood, horses, +dogs, cats, etc. He carved excellent soldiers also. + +I remember his masterpiece. + +It was "Napoleon crossing the Alps." + +Looking at it critically, I should say it was rather short of +Alps. + +An Alp or two more would have improved it; but, as a whole, it +was a wonderful piece of work; and what a wonderful piece of work +is a wooden man, when his legs and arms are all right. + + V.--WHAT THIS YOUNG MAN SAID. + +He said, "I can make just as good fireworks as them in Boston." + +"Them" was not grammatical, but why care for grammar as long as +we are good? + + VI.--THE FATHER'S TEARS. + +Pettingill neglected the farm. + +He said that it might till itself--he should manufacture some +gorgeous fireworks, and exhibit them on the village green on the +next 4th of July. + +He said the Eagle of Fame would flap his wings over their humble +roof ere many months should pass away. + +"If he does," said old Mr. Pettingill, "we must shoot him and +bile him, and eat him, because we shall be rather short of meat, +my son, if you go on in this lazy way." + +And the old man wept. + +He shed over 120 gallons of tears. + +That is to say, a puncheon. But by all means let us avoid +turning this romance into a farce. + + VII.--PYROTECHNY. + +But the headstrong young man went to work, making fireworks. + +He bought and carefully studied a work on pyrotechny. + +The villagers knew that he was a remarkably skilful young man, +and they all said, "We shall have a great treat next 4th of +July." + +Meanwhile Pettingill worked away. + + VIII.--THE DAY. + +The great day came at last. + +Thousands poured into the little village from far and near. + +There was an oration, of course. + + IX.--ORATORY IN AMERICA. + +Yes; there was an oration. + +We have a passion for oratory in America--political oratory +chiefly. + +Our political orators never lose a chance to "express their +views." + +They will do it. You cannot stop them. + +There was an execution in Ohio one day, and the Sheriff, before +placing the rope round the murderer's neck, asked him if he had +any remarks to make? + +"If he hasn't," said a well-known local orator, pushing his +way rapidly through the dense crowd to the gallows--"if our +ill-starred feller-citizen don't feel inclined to make a speech +and is in no hurry, I should like to avail myself of the present +occasion to make some remarks on the necessity of a new +protective tariff!" + + X.--PETTINGILL'S FIREWORKS. + +As I said in Chapter VIII., there was an oration. There were +also processions, and guns, and banners. + +"This evening," said the chairman of the committee of +arrangements, "this evening, fellow-citizens, there will be a +grand display of fireworks on the village green, superintended by +the inventor and manufacturer, our public-spirited townsman, Mr. +Reuben Pettingill." + +Night closed in, and an immense concourse of people gathered on +the village green. + +On a raised platform, amidst his fireworks, stood Pettingill. + +He felt that the great hour of his life had come, and, in a firm, +clear voice, he said: + +"The fust fireworks, feller-citizens, will be a rocket, which +will go up in the air, bust, and assume the shape of a serpint." + +He applied a match to the rocket, but instead of going up in the +air, it flew wildly down into the grass, running some distance +with a hissing kind of sound, and causing the masses to jump +round in a very insane manner. + +Pettingill was disappointed, but not disheartened. He tried +again. + +"The next fireworks," he said, "will go up in the air, bust, and +become a beautiful revolvin' wheel." + +But alas! it didn't. It only ploughed a little furrow in the +green grass, like its unhappy predecessor. + +The masses laughed at this, and one man--a white-haired old +villager--said, kindly but firmly, "Reuben, I'm 'fraid you don't +understand pyrotechny." + +Reuben was amazed. Why did his rockets go down instead of up? +But, perhaps, the others would be more successful, and, with a +flushed face, and in a voice scarcely as firm as before, he said: + +"The next specimen of pyrotechny will go up in the air, bust, and +become an eagle. Said eagle will soar away into the western +skies, leavin' a red trail behind him as he so soars." + +But, alas! again. No eagle soared, but, on the contrary, that +ordinary proud bird buried its head in the grass. + +The people were dissatisfied. They made sarcastic remarks. Some +of them howled angrily. The aged man who had before spoken said, +"No, Reuben, you evidently don't understand pyrotechny." + +Pettingill boiled with rage and disappointment. + +"You don't understand pyrotechny!" the masses shouted. + +Then they laughed in a disagreeable manner, and some unfeeling +lads threw dirt at our hero. + +"You don't understand pyrotechny!" the masses yelled again. + +"Don't I?" screamed Pettingill, wild with rage; "don't you think +I do?" + +Then seizing several gigantic rockets he placed them over a box +of powder, and touched the whole off. + +THIS rocket went up. It did, indeed. + +There was a terrific explosion. + +No one was killed, fortunately; though many were injured. + +The platform was almost torn to pieces. + +But proudly erect among the falling timbers stood Pettingill, his +face flashing with wild triumph; and he shouted: "If I'm any +judge of pyrotechny, THAT rocket has went off." + +Then seeing that all the fingers on his right hand had been taken +close off in the explosion, he added: "And I ain't so dreadful +certain but four of my fingers has went off with it, because I +don't see 'em here now!" + + 3.9. THE LAST OF THE CULKINSES. + +A DUEL IN CLEVELAND--DISTANCE TEN PACES--BLOODY RESULT--FLIGHT OF +ONE OF THE PRINCIPALS--FULL PARTICULARS. + +A few weeks since a young Irishman name Culkins wandered into +Cleveland from New York. He had been in America only a short +time. He overflowed with book learning, but was mournfully +ignorant of American customs, and as innocent and confiding +withal as the Babes in the Wood. He talked much of his family, +their commanding position in Connaught, Ireland, their immense +respectability, their chivalry, and all that sort of thing. He +was the only representative of that mighty race in this country. +"I'm the last of the Culkinses!" he would frequently say, with a +tinge of romantic sadness, meaning, we suppose, that he would be +the last when the elder Culkins (in the admired language of the +classics) "slipped his wind." Young Culkins proposed to teach +Latin, Greek, Spanish, Fardown Irish, and perhaps Choctaw, to +such youths as desired to become thorough linguists. He was not +very successful in this line, and concluded to enter the office +of a prominent law firm on Superior Street as a student. He dove +among the musty and ponderous volumes with all the enthusiasm of +a wild young Irishman, and commenced cramming his head with law +at a startling rate. He lodged in the back-room of the office, +and previous to retiring he used to sing the favorite ballads of +his own Emerald Isle. The boy who was employed in the office +directly across the hall used to go to the Irishman's door and +stick his ear to the key-hole with a view to drinking in the +gushing melody by the quart or perhaps pailful. This vexed Mr. +Culkins, and considerably marred the pleasure of the thing, as +witness the following:-- + + "O come to me when daylight sets. + +[What yez doing at that door, yer d--d spalpane?] + + Sweet, then come to me! + +[I'll twist the nose off yez presently, me honey!] + + When softly glide our gondolettes + +[Bedad, I'll do murther to yez, young gintlemin!] + + O'er the moonlit sea." + +Of course, this couldn't continue. This, in short, was rather +more than the blood of the Culkinses could stand, so the young +man, through whose veins such a powerful lot of that blood +courses, sprang to the door, seized the eavesdropping boy, drew +him within, and commenced to severely chastise him. The boy's +master, the gentleman who occupied the office across the hall, +here interfered, pulled Mr. Culkins off, thrust him gently +against the wall, and slightly choked him. Mr. Culkins bottled +his furious wrath for that night, but in the morning he uncorked +it and threatened the gentleman (whom for convenience sake we +will call Smith) with all sorts of vengeance. He obtained a +small horsewhip and tore furiously through the town, on the +lookout for Smith. + +He sent Smith a challenge, couched in language so scathingly hot +that it burnt holes through the paper, and when it reached Smith +it was riddled like an old-fashioned milk-strainer. No notice +was taken of the challenge, and Culkins' wrath became absolutely +terrific. He wrote handbills, which he endeavoured to have +printed, posting Smith as a coward. He wrote a communication for +the "New Herald," explaining the whole matter. (This wasn't very +rich, we expect.) He urged us to publish his challenge to Smith. +Somebody told him that Smith was intending to flee the city in +fear on an afternoon train, and Culkins proceeded to the depot, +horsewhip in hand, to lie in wait for him. This was Saturday +last. During the afternoon Smith concluded to accept the +challenge. Seconds and a surgeon were selected, and we are +mortified to state that at 10 o'clock in the evening Scanton's +Bottom was desecrated with a regular duel. The frantic glee of +Culkins when he learned his challenge had been accepted can't be +described. Our pen can't do it--a pig-pen couldn't. He wrote a +long letter to his uncle in New York, and to his father in +Connaught. At about ten o'clock the party proceeded to the +field. The moon was not up, the darkness was dense, the ground +was unpleasantly moist, and the lights of the town, which gleamed +in the distance, only made the scene more desolate and dreary. +The ground was paced off and the men arranged. While this was +being done, the surgeon, by the light of a dark lantern, arranged +his instruments, which consisted of 1 common hand-saw, 1 hatchet, +1 butcher knife, a large variety of smaller knives, and a small +mountain of old rag. Neither of the principals exhibited any +fear. Culkins insisted that, as the challenging party, he had +the right to the word fire. This, after a bitter discussion, was +granted. He urged his seconds to place him facing towards the +town, so that the lights would be in his favour. This was done +without any trouble, the immense benefits of that position not +being discovered by Smith's second. + +"If I fall," said Culkins to his second, "see me respectably +buried and forward bill to Connaught. Believe me, it will be +cashed." The arms (horse-pistols) were given to the men, and one +of Culkins's seconds said: + +"Gentlemen, are you ready?" + +SMITH:--Ready. + +CULKINS:--Ready. The blood of the Culkinses is aroused! + +SECOND:--One, Two, Three--fire! + +Culkins's pistol didn't go off. Smith didn't fire. + +"That was generous in Smith not to fire," said a second. + +"It was inDADE," said Culkins; "I did not think it of the +low-lived scoundrel!" + +The word was again given. Crack went both pistols +simultaneously. The smoke slowly cleared away, and the +principals were discovered standing stock-still. The silence and +stillness for a moment were awful. No one moved. Soon Smith was +seen to reel and then to slowly fall. His second and the surgeon +rushed to him. Culkins made a tremendous effort to fly from the +field, but was restrained by his seconds. + +"The honor of the Culkinses," he roared, "is untarnished--why the +divil won't yez let me go? H--ll's blazes, men, will yez be +after giving me over to the bailiffs? Docther, Docther!" he +shouted, "is he mortally wounded?" + +The Doctor said he could not tell--that he was wounded in the +shoulder--that a carriage would be sent for and the wounded man +taken to his house. Here a heart-rending groan came from Smith, +and Culkins, with a Donnybrook shriek, burst from his seconds, +knocked over the doctor's lantern, and fled towards the town like +greased lightning amidst a chorus of excited voices. + +"Hold him!" + +"Stop him!" + +"Grab him by the coat-tails!" + +"Shoot him!" + +"Head him off!" + +And half of the party started after him at an express-train rate. +There was some very fine running indeed. Culkins was brought to +a sudden stop against a tall board fence, but he sprang back and +cleared it like an English hunter, and tore like a lunatic for +the city. Half an hour later the party might have been seen, if +it hadn't been so pesky dark, groping blindly around the office +in which Culkins had been a student at law. + +"Are you here, Culkins?" said one. + +"Before Culkins answers that," said a smothered voice in the +little room, "tell me who yez are." + +"Friends--your seconds!" + +"Gintlemin, Culkins is here. The last of the Culkinses is under +the bed." + +He was dragged out. + +"I hope," he said, "the ignoble wretch is not dead, but I call +you to witness, gintlemen, that he grossly insulted me." + +(We don't care what folks say, but choking a man is a gross +insult.--Ed. P.D.) + +He was persuaded to retire. There was no danger of his being +disturbed that night, as the watch were sleeping sweetly as usual +in the big arm-chairs of the various hotels, and he would be able +to fly the city in the morning. He had a haggard and worn-out +look yesterday morning. Two large bailiffs, he said, had +surrounded the building in the night, and he had not slept a +wink. And to add to his discomfiture his coat was covered with a +variegated and moist mixture, which he thought must be some of +the brains of his opponent, they having spattered against him as +he passed the dying man in his flight from the field. As Smith +was not dead (though the surgeon said he would be confined to his +house for several weeks, and there was some danger of +mortification setting in), Culkins wisely concluded that the +mixture might be something else. A liberal purse was made up for +him, and at an early hour yesterday morning the last of the +Culkinses went down St. Clair Street on a smart trot. He took +this morning's Lakeshore express train at some way-station, and +is now on his way to New York. The most astonishing thing about +the whole affair is the appearance on the street to-day, +apparently well and unhurt, of the gentleman who was so badly +"wounded in the shoulder." But a duel was actually "fit." + +3.10. A MORMON ROMANCE--REGINALD GLOVERSON. + + CHAPTER I.--THE MORMON'S DEPARTURE. + +The morning on which Reginald Gloverson was to leave Great Salt +Lake City with a mule-train, dawned beautifully. + +Reginald Gloverson was a young and thrifty Mormon, with an +interesting family of twenty young and handsome wives. His +unions had never been blessed with children. As often as once a +year he used to go to Omaha, in Nebraska, with a mule-train for +goods; but although he had performed the rather perilous journey +many times with entire safety, his heart was strangely sad on +this particular morning, and filled with gloomy forebodings. + +The time for his departure had arrived. The high-spirited mules +were at the door, impatiently champing their bits. The Mormon +stood sadly among his weeping wives. + +"Dearest ones," he said, "I am singularly sad at heart, this +morning; but do not let this depress you. The journey is a +perilous one, but--pshaw! I have always come back safely +heretofore, and why should I fear? Besides, I know that every +night, as I lay down on the broad starlit prairie, your bright +faces will come to me in my dreams, and make my slumbers sweet +and gentle. You, Emily, with your mild blue eyes; and you, +Henrietta, with your splendid black hair; and you, Nelly, with +your hair so brightly, beautifully golden; and you, Mollie, with +your cheeks so downy; and you, Betsy, with your wine-red lips-- +far more delicious, though, than any wine I ever tasted--and you, +Maria, with your winsome voice; and you, Susan, with your--with +your--that is to say, Susan, with your--and the other thirteen of +you, each so good and beautiful, will come to me in sweet dreams, +will you not, Dearestists?" + +"Our own," they lovingly chimed, "we will!" + +"And so farewell!" said Reginald. "Come to my arms, my own!" he +cried, "that is, as many of you as can do it conveniently at +once, for I must away." + +He folded several of them to his throbbing breast, and drove +sadly away. + + . . . . + +But he had not gone far when the trace of the off-hind mule +became unhitched. Dismounting, he essayed to adjust the trace; +but ere he had fairly commenced the task, the mule, a singularly +refractory animal--snorted wildly, and kicked Reginald +frightfully in the stomach. He arose with difficulty, and +tottered feebly towards his mother's house, which was near by, +falling dead in her yard, with the remark, "Dear Mother, I've +come home to die!" + +"So I see," she said; "where's the mules?" + +Alas! Reginald Gloverson could give no answer. In vain the +heart-stricken mother threw herself upon his inanimate form, +crying, "Oh, my son--my son! Only tell me where the mules are, +and then you may die if you want to." + +In vain--in vain! Reginald had passed on. + + CHAPTER II.--FUNERAL TRAPPINGS. + +The mules were never found. + +Reginald's heart-broken mother took the body home to her +unfortunate son's widows. But before her arrival she +indiscreetly sent a boy to Bust the news gently to the afflicted +wives, which he did by informing them in a hoarse whisper that +their "old man had gone in." + +The wives felt very badly indeed. + +"He was devoted to me," sobbed Emily. + +"And to me," said Maria. + +"Yes," said Emily, "he thought considerably of you, but not so +much as he did of me." + +"I say he did!" + +"And I say he didn't!" + +"He did!" + +"He didn't!" + +"Don't look at ME, with your squint eyes!" + +"Don't shake your red head at ME!" + +"Sisters!" said the black-haired Henrietta, "cease this unseemly +wrangling. I, as his first wife, shall strew flowers on his +grave." + +"No you WON'T," said Susan. "I, as his last wife, shall strew +flowers on his grave. It's MY business to strew!" + +"You shan't, so there!" said Henrietta. + +"You bet I will!" said Susan, with a tear-suffused cheek. + +"Well, as for me," said the practical Betsy, "I ain't on the +Strew, much, but I shall ride at the head of the funeral +procession!" + +"Not if I've been introduced to myself, you won't," said the +golden-haired Nelly; "that's my position. You bet your bonnet- +strings it is." + +"Children," said Reginald's mother, "you must do some crying, you +know, on the day of the funeral; and how many pocket-handkerchers +will it take to go round? Betsy, you and Nelly ought to make one +do between you." + +"I'll tear her eyes out if she perpetrates a sob on my +handkercher!" said Nelly. + +"Dear daughters in-law," said Reginald's mother, "how unseemly is +this anger! Mules is five hundred dollars a span, and every +identical mule my poor boy had has been gobbled up by the red +man. I knew when my Reginald staggered into the door-yard that +he was on the Die, but if I'd only thunk to ask him about them +mules ere his gentle spirit took flight, it would have been four +thousand dollars in OUR pockets, and NO mistake! Excuse those +real tears, but you've never felt a parent's feelin's." + +"It's an oversight," sobbed Maria. "Don't blame us!" + + CHAPTER III.--DUST TO DUST. + +The funeral passed off in a very pleasant manner, nothing +occuring to mar the harmony of the occasion. By a happy thought +of Reginald's mother, the wives walked to the grave twenty +abreast, which rendered that part of the ceremony thoroughly +impartial. + + . . . . + +That night the twenty wives, with heavy hearts, sought their +twenty respective couches. But no Reginald occupied those twenty +respective couches--Reginald would never more linger all night in +blissful repose in those twenty respective couches--Reginald's +head would never more press the twenty respective pillows of +those twenty respective couches--never, nevermore! + + . . . . + +In another house, not many leagues from the House of Mourning, a +gray-haired woman was weeping passionately. "He died," she +cried, "he died without sigerfyin', in any respect, where them +mules went to!" + + CHAPTER IV.--MARRIED AGAIN. + +Two years are supposed to elapse between the third and fourth +chapters of this original American romance. + +A manly Mormon, one evening, as the sun was preparing to set +among a select apartment of gold and crimson clouds in the +western horizon--although for that matter the sun has a right to +"set" where it wants to, and so, I may add has a hen--a manly +Mormon, I say, tapped gently at the door of the mansion of the +late Reginald Gloverson. + +The door was opened by Mrs. Sarah Gloverson. + +"Is this the house of the widow Gloverson!" the Mormon asked. + +"It is," said Susan. + +"And how many is there of she?" inquired the Mormon. + +"There is about twenty of her, including me," courteously +returned the fair Susan. + +"Can I see her?" + +"You can." + +"Madam," he softly said, addressing the twenty disconsolate +widows. "I have seen part of you before! And although I have +already twenty-five wives, whom I respect and tenderly care for, +I can truly say that I never felt love's holy thrill till I saw +thee! Be mine--be mine!" he enthusiastically cried, "and we will +show the world a striking illustration of the beauty and truth of +the noble lines, only a good deal more so-- + + "Twenty-one souls with a single thought, + Twenty-one hearts that beat as one!" + +They were united, they were! + +Gentle reader, does not the moral of this romance show that--does +it not, in fact, show that however many there may be of a young +widow woman, or rather does it not show that whatever number of +persons one woman may consist of--well, never mind what it SHOWS. +Only this writing Mormon romances is confusing to the intellect. +You try it and see. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Complete Works of Artemus Ward, Part 3 + diff --git a/3273.zip b/3273.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..585272e --- /dev/null +++ b/3273.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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