^: " ■ "'C^V^' ^'' ^1^1 < «• ^j:i#^^:o->#:^-s ^^^":'^ \^. . ^-^ ■ .- m. is.''! (SfarttBll Intuersiti) Slihrarg Itlfara, Ntm iorb BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 Cornell University Library PS 2459.N283M6 The misfortunes of Peter Fabenand either 3 1924 022 430 577 The original of tiiis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022430577 V\^^^% ,UU5TRAT,0NS By Dar,",^8RKS^ ,,^ . ^«ts of other Sk*"^ ' >> BY f^" JOSEPH C. WEAL. ii^FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS BY DARLEY. ^J,r CSi-'A PHILADELPHIA, •vill talk about, endeavoring, for the hundredth time, to afford enlightenment on a subject we already understand, or rela- tive to which we care not the value of a button. That's % . hots, as it ambuscades us in the sti'eet, or trenches upon 84 neal's sketches. time intended for other purposes. It is prudent, therefore, to be chary and watchful of your one idea. However im- portant it may seem to its possessor, other folks may have a different bias, and are not likely to desire to trot far upon any hobby-horse but their own ; and so philosophers, politicians, philanthropists, inventors, speculators, and innovators, of eveiy description and degree, are all given more or less tft boring. And though politeness may seem to feel an interest, it is a fair presumption, more than half the time, that po- liteness is not to be believed. We are obliged to politeness always, for its sacrifices, but have little faith in its complai- sance. It may say " bore," when we are gone — it does so generally. • Self: — how delicious to chatter of one's gelf! — delicious, but full of danger — Self, then, as a theme for speeches, is, in the most of cases, quite boreal — hyperboreal — other selves being present, each one of which prefers itself to every other self, and only listens to yourself, that, on the reciprocity principle, it may afterward be permitted to talk of itself. Try to remember that all these people round about, are selves of their own, complete and perfect in their individu- ality, and that as they are to you, so are you to them — sim- ply an external circumstance — a shadow and an accident. If you catch yourself talking of yourself, recollect yourself before you commit yourself, and ask yourself how you would like it, if yourself were bored after this fashion. It is hard, undoubtedly ; but it is necessary to learn how to put your- self in your^ocket. "The shop" — mind the shop — is assuredly a bore, if much of the shop be offered. We all have shops, of one kind or of another, which, in the main, is quite enough; and few there are who care much to be indoctrinated with the particulars of the circumjacent shops. When leaving the shop, then, let us be sure that all appertaining to the shop is also left. In society, the gentleman — and not to be a bore is essential to that coveted character — is one who vol- A BORE, IN CHARCOAL. 85 unteers no evidence of his avocation. He talks not of bul- locks — prates not of physic or of surgery — refi-ains from cotton, and leaves his stocks in the money-market, except briefly and in reply to question — and for the plain re9.son that he is aware that others have shops — that they love their shops as much as he loves his shop, and that if shops are to be lugged in, why not their shops as well as his shoTpl — While thus " sinking the shop," it may be taken rather as an ill compliment to be questioned much about the shop, there being reason to suspect that an imagination exists that you can talk of nothing else but the shop. Think of it by day — dream of it, if you will, by night — and above all, attend to it industriously ; but do not take it with you into other people's houses. We might perhaps keep boring on, like Signor Benedict, who would still be talking— ^ that was a bore — when nobody heeded him — for these general charges admit of minute specification. We could speak of invalid bores, who find delight in the recapitulation of sufferings ; who dote on the doctoif and who bore for sympathy when there is none to spare, and as if none were hurt but them — of melancholy bores, who seek to draw a funeral veil across the joyous day — of misanthi'opic bores, who sulk and groan — of argumen- tative bores — combative and disputatious — who can not acquiesce, and must contest each point, in a war of posts, with armor ever on — of literary bores, who lend you books, and after catechize, to see that you have read them — -be sure at least to cut the leaves before you send the volume back — — of oratorical bores, who practise speeches and grind logic ■on you — of the bore critical, who would better all things, and of the bore grammatical, who pai'ses what you say — of bores too formal and the bore familiar. But it all resolves itself to this — that he who talks only to please himself, like him who sings or whistles at your elbow, is tending boreward, engrossed in his own gratification, and that the truly kind and considerate -are not npt to bore, except by accident. A 86 neal's sketches. !Httle tbougtrt, and they will know what to talk about, and ■'When to leave oflf talking ; while the opinionated and the I selfish -Will persist in boring — for they lack perceptioii and benevolences; and perhaps, a8 a general nile, it may be set down, paradoxically, and differing from guns, that The greatest bores have the smallest calibre. LOOK AT THE CLOCE. 87 LOOK AT THE CLOCK: OB, A PRETTY TIME OF NIGHT. " tlNKLE !" There are people, of the imaginative sort, who undertake to judge of people's character from people's hand of write, pretending to obtain glimpses of the individual's distinctive traits through the rectilinear and curvilinear processes of that individual's pen ; and we shall not, for " our ovni poor part;" undertake to deny that " idiosyncracy,'^ meaning thereby the mental and physical peculiarities of our nature, may be discoverable in vvhatever we do, if there were wit' enough to find it out. We are probably pervaded by a style as much our own and none of our neighbor's, as the style of our nose, making each man, each woman, and each child, himself, herself, and itself, alioiie ; and perhaps the time may come, if it be not here already, when the wise ones — profes- sors and so forth — will be able to discover from a glimpse of our thumbs, what we are likely to prefer for dinner. In- deed, We know it to be theoretical in certain schools — in the kitchen, for instance, which is the most orthodox and sensible of the schools — that, as a general rule, the leading features of character are indicated by the mode in which we pull a bell, and that, to a considerable extent, we may infer the kind of person who is at the door — just as we do the kind of fish that bobs the cork — by the species of vibration' which is given to the wire. Rash, impetuous, choleric, and destructive, what chance has the poor little bell in such: hands 1 But the considerate, modest, lowly, and retiring — do you ever know such people to break things 1 Depend K«' NEAL £ SKETCHES. upon it, too, that our self-estimate is largely indicated by our conduct in this respect. If it does not betray what we really are, it most assuredly discloses the temper of the mind at the moment of our ringing. "Tinkle!" ' Did you hear ] Nothing could 'be more ' amiable br unobtrusive than that. Ut would scarcely disturb the nervous system of a mouse ; and whoever listened to it, might at once understand that it was the soft lintinnabulary wbisper of a gentleman of the convivial turn and of the " locked out" description, who, conscious probably, of def^lt, is desirous of being admitted to his domiciliary comforts, upon the most pacific and silent terms that can be obtained from those who hold the citadel and possess the inside of the door. " tinkle !" Who can doi:^bt that he — Mr. Tinkle — would take off his boots and go up stairs in his stocking-feet, muttering rebuke to every step that creaked? "W^hat a deprecating mildness there is in the deportment of the " great locked out !" How gently dp they tap, and hp.w softly do they ring ; while, per- chance, in due proportion to their enjoyment in untimely and protracted revel, is the penitential aspect of their return. There is a " never-do-so-any-more-ishness " all about them — yea — even about the bully boys " who wouldn't go home tilLrnqming — till daylight does appear," singing up to the very door j and when they "Tinkle !" It is intended as a hint merely and not as a broad an- nunciation — insinuated — not proclaiiped aloud — that some' body who is very sorry— who " didn't go to help it," and all that — is at the threshold, and that if it be the same to you, he would be exceeding glad to come in, with as little of scolding and rebuke as may bo thought likely to answer the purpose. There ie a hope in it — a subdued hope-- " Tinkle \" LOOK AT THE CLOCK. 89 — that perchance a member of the family — ^^ good-natured as well as insomnolent — may be spontaneously awake, and disposed to open the door without clamoring up Malcolm, Donalbaih, and the whole house. Why should every one know? But — "Tinkle— tankle!!" Even patience itself — on a damp, chilly, unwholesome night — patience at the street-door, all alone by itself and disposed to slumber — as patience is apt to be after patience has been partaking of potations and of collations — even pa- tience itself can not be expected to remain tinkling there — "pianissimo" — hour after hour, as if there were nothing else in this world worthy of attention but the ringing of bells. Who can be surprised that patience at last becomes reckless and desperate, let the consequences — rhinoceroses or Hyrcan tigers — assume what shape they may 1 There is a furious stampede upon the marble — a fierce word or two of scathing Saxon, and then — "Kangle — ja-a-a-ngle — ra-a-a-ng! ! !" the sound be- ing of that sharp, stinging, excruciating kind, which leads to the conclusion that somebody is " worse " and is getting in a rage. That one, let me tell you, was Mr. Dawson Dawdle, in whom wrath had surmounted discretion, and who, as a for- lorn hope, had now determined to make good his entrance — assault, storm, escfilade — at any hazard and at any cost. Dawson Dawdle was furious now — "savagerous" — as you have been, probably, when kept at the door till your teeth rattled like castinets and cachuchas. Passion is picturesque in attitude, as well as poetic in ex- pression. Dawson Dawdle braced his feet one on each side of the door-post, as a purchase, and tugged at the bell with' both hands, until windows flew up in all directions, and nightcapped heads, in curious variety, were projected into the gloom. Something seemed to be the matter at Dawdle's. " Who's sick 1" cried one. 90' ngal's sketches. " Wheire's the fire V asked another. "The Mexicans are come !" shouted a third. But Daw son Dawdle had reached that state of intensity which is regardless of every consideration but that of the business in hand, and he continued to pull away, as if at work by the job, while several observing watchmen stood by in admira- tion of his zeal. Yet there was no answer to this pealing appeal for admittance — not that Mrs. Dawson Dawdle was deaf — not she — nor dumb either. Nay, she had recognised Mr. Dawdle's returning step ^- that husband's "foot," which should, according to the poet— " Have masic in't As be comes ap the stair." But Dawdle was allowed to make his music in the street, while his wife, obdurate, listened with a smile bordering, we fear, a little upon exultation, at his progressive lessons and rapid improvements in the art of ringing " triple-bob- majors." "Let him wait," remarked Mrs. Dawson Dawdle; "let him wait — 'twill do him good. I'm sure I've been waiting long enough for him." And so she had ; but, though there be a doubt whether this process of waiting had "done good" in her own case, yet if there' be truth or justice in thevengiefiil practice which would have us act tbwtird others precisely as they deport themselves to us — and evety one concedes that it is verj agreeable, however wrong, to catry on the war after thl fashion — Mrs. Dawson Diawdle could have little difficult' in justifying herself for the course adopted. Only to think of it, now. Mrs. Dawson Dawdle is one of those natural and propa people who become sleepy of evenings, and who are rath« apt to yawn after tea. Mr. Dawson Dawdle, on the othi ' hand, is of the unnatural and improper species, who are ntA sleepy or yawny of evenings — never so, except of mornings. Dawson insists on it, that he is no chicken to go to roost at LOOK AT THE CLOCK. S^I' sundown ; while Mrs. Dawson Dawdle rises with the lark. The larks he prefers, are larks at night. Now, as a correct- ive to these differences of opinion, Dawson Dawdle had been cunningly deprived of his pass-key, that he might be induced " to remember not to forget" to come home betimes • — a thing he was not apt to remember, especially if good companionship intervened. Thus, Mrs. Dawdle was " waiting up" for him. To indulge in an episode here, apropos to the general principle involved, it may be said, pertinently enough, that this matter of waiting, if you have nerves — "waiting up," or " waiting down," choose either branch of the dilemma — is not to be ranged under the head of popular amusements, or classified in the category of enlivening recreation. To wait — who has not waited? — fix it as we will — is always more or less of a trial ; and whether the arrangement be for " waiting up" — disdainful of sleep — or for " waiting down" — covetous of dozes — it rarely happens that the intei-vals are employed in the invocation of other than left-handed blessings, on the head of those who have caused this devia- tion from comfortable routine ; or that, on their tardy arrival — people conscious of being waited for, always stay out as long and as provokingly as they can — we find ourselves at all disposed to amiable converse, or complimentary ex- pression. And reason good. If we lie dovyn, for instance, when my young lady has gone to a " polka party," or my young gen- cleman has travelled away to an affair of the convivialities, do we ever find it conducive to refreshing repose, this awk- ward consciousness, overpending like the sword of Damocles, that sooner or later the disturbance must come, to call us startingly from dreams ? Nor after we have tossed and tumbled into a lethargy, is it to be set down as a pleasure to be aroused, all stupid and perplexed, to scramble down the stairway for the admission of delinquents, who — the fact 92 neal's sketches. admits of no exception — ring, ring, ring, or knock, knock, knock away, long after you have heard them, and persist in goading you to phrensies, by peal upon peal, when your very neck is endangered by rapidity of movement in their behalf. It is a lucky thing for them vvhen they so ungratefully ask,^ " why you didn't make haste," as they always do, or mutter about being " kept there all night," as they surely will, that despotic powers are unknown in these regions, and that you are not invested with supreme command. But now get thee to sleep again, as quickly as thou canst, though it may be that the task is not the easiest in the world. " Waiting up," too, this likewise has its delectations. The veiy clock seems at last to have entered into the conspiracy — the hands move with sluggish weariness, and there is a laggard sound in the swinging of the pendulum, which almost says that time itself is tired, as it ticks its progress to the drowsy ear. There is a bustle in the street, no doubt, as you sit down doggedly to wakefulness : and many feet are pat- tering from theatre and circus. For a time the laugh is heard, and people chatter as they pass, boy calling unto boy, or deep-mouthed men humming an untuned song. Now doors are slammed, and shutters closed, and bolts are shoot- ing, in earnest of retirements for the night. Forsaken dogs bark round and round the house, and vocal cats beset the portico. The rumbling of the hack dwindles in the distance, as the cabs roll by from steamboat wharf and railroad depot. You are deserted and alone — tired of book, sated with nevirs- paper, indisposed to thought. You nod — ha! ha! — bibetty bobetty! — as your hair smokes and crackles in the lamp. But it "is folly now to peep forth. Will they never come ? No — do they ever, until all reasonable patience is exhausted ] Yes — here they are! — pshaw! — sit thee still — it is but a straggling step ; and hour drags after hour, until you have resolved it- o'er and o'er again, that tliis shall be the last ot your vigils, let who will request it as a favor, that you will be good enough to sit up for them. I wouldn't do it. LOOK AT THE. CLOCK. 93 So it is not at all to be marvelled at that Mrs. Dawson Dawdle — disposed, as we know her to be, to sleepiness at times appropriate to sleep — was irate at the nonappearance of Mr. Dawson Dawdle, or that, after he had reached home, she detained him vsngefully at the street-door, as an example to such dilatoriness in general, for it is a prevailing fault in husbandry, and that, in particular, being thus kept out con- siderably longer than he wished to keep out — too much of a good thing being good for nothing — he mi^;ii be taught better, on the doctrine of curing an evil by aggravation — both were aggravated. But the difficulty presents itself here, that Mr. Dawson Dawdle has a constitutigpal defect, beyond reach of the range of ordinary remedial agents. Being locked out, is curative to some people, for at least a time — till they forget it, mostly. But Dawson Dawdle is the man who is always too late — he must be too late — he would not know himself if he were not too late — it would not be he, if he were not too late. Too late is to him a matter of course — a fixed re- sult in his nature. He had heard of " soon," and he believed that perhaps there might occasionally be something of the sort — spasmodic and accidental — but, for his own part, he had never been there himself. And as for " too soon," he regarded it as imaginative altogether — an incredibility. Tha presumption is, that he must have been bom an hour or so too late, and that he had never been able to make up the difference. In fact, Dawson Dawdle is a man to be re- lied on — no mistake as to Dawson Dawdle. Whenever he makes an appointment, you are sure he will not keep it, which saves a deal of trouble on your side of the question ; and at the best, if an early hour be set, any time will answer in the latter part of the day. Dawson Dawdle forgets, too : htvr complimentary it is to be told that engagements in which we are involved are so readily forgotten ! Leave it to the Dawdles to forget ; and never double the affront by an ex- cuse that transcends the original offence. Or else Dawson Si neal's sketches. Dawdle did not know it was so late ; and yet Dawson migbt have been sure of it. When was it otherwise than late with the late Mr. Dawson Dawdle T " Well," said he, at the bell-handte all this time, " well, I suppose it's late again — it rings as if it was late; and somehow or other, it appears to me that it always is late, especially and particularly when my wife tells me to be sure to be borne early — 'you, Dawson, come back soon, d'ye hear ]' and all that sort o' thing. I wish she wouldn't — it puts me oxLt, to keep telling me what I ought to do ; and when I have to remember to come home early, it makes me fqrget all , about it, and discomboberates my ideas so that I'm a great deal later than I would be if I was left to my own sagacity. Let me alone, and I'm great upon sagacity; but yet what is sagacity when it has no key and the dead- latch is down 1 What chance has sagacity got when sagaci- ty's wife won't let sagacity in 1 I'll have another pull at the bell — exercise is good for pne's health." This last peal — as peala, under su(;h circumstances, are apt to be — was louder, more sonorous, and in all respects more terrific, than any of its "illustrious predecessors," practice in this respect tending to the improvement of skill on the one hand, just as its adds provocation to teijiper on the other. For a moment, the fate of Dawson Dawdle quivered in th^ scale, as the eye of his etxasperated ]^j glanced fearfully round the room for a means of retaliation a,nd redress. Nay, Jier hand rested £ox an instant upon a pitcher, while thoughts (rf hy^i^opatbies, douches, shower- Ibatlis, Grraefenbecgs, and Priessnitzes, in their medicinal application :t|0 dilatory husbands, presented themselves in quick aquatic succession like the rushings of a cataract. Never did man come nearer to being drovimed than Mr. Dawson Dawdle. " But no," said she, relenting ; " if he were to ketch his deat]b o' cold, he'd be a great deal more trouble than he is now — husbands with bad colds — coughing husbaipids and LOOK AT THE CLOCK. S5 sneezing husbands — are the stupidest aiid tiresomest kind of husbands — bad as they may be, ducking don't improve 'em. I'll have recourse to moral suasion ; and if that won't answer, I'll duck him afterward." Suddenly and in the midst of a protracted jangle, the door flew widely open, and displayed the form of Mrs. Dawson Dawdle, standing sublime — silent — statuesque — wrapped in wrath and enveloped in taciturnity. Dawdle was appalled. " My dear !" and his hand dropped nervelessly from the Dell-handle, "my dear, it's me — only me." Not a word of response to the ,t-ender appeal — the lady remained obdurate in silence — chilly and voiceless as the marble, with her eyes sternly fixed upon the intruder. Daw- son Dawdle felt himself running down". " My dear — he ! he !" and Dawson laughed with a melan- choly quaver — "it's me that'^ come home — you know me — it's late, I confess — it's most always late — and I — ho! ho ! — why don't you say something, Mrs. Dawson Dawdle t — Do you think I'm going to be skeered, Mrs. Dawdle ]" As the parties thus confronted each other, Mrs. Dawdle's " masterly inactivity" proved overwhelming. For reproaches, Dawson was prepared — he could bear part in a war of opin- ion — the squabble is easy to most of us — but where are we when the antagonist will not deign to speak, and environs UBjas it were, in an ambuscade, so that we fear the more be- cause we know not what to fear t " Why don't she blow me up t" queried Dawdle to him- Belf, as he found his valor collapsing — "why don't she blow me up like an affectionate woman and a loving wife, instead of standing there in that ghostified fashion V Mrs. Dawdle's hand slowly extended itself toward the culprit, who made no attempt at evasion or defence — slow ly it entvwned itself in the folds of his neck-handkerchief, and, as the unresisting Dawson had strange fancies relative to bow-strings, he found himself drawn inward by a sure and steady grasp, Swifbly was he sped through the dark- 96 neal's sketches. some entry and up the winding stair, without a word to coin«i fort him in his stumbling progress. *' Dawson Dawdle ! — Look at the clock !. — A pretty time of night, indeed, and you a married man. Look at the clock, 1 say, and see." Mrs. Dawson Dawdle, however, had, for the moment, lost her advantage in thus giving utterance to her emotion ; and Mr. Dawson Dawdle, though much shaken, began to recover his spirits. " Two o'clock, Mr. Dawdle — two ! — isn't it two, I ask you !" " If you are positive about the fact, Mrs. Dawdle, it would be unbecoming in me to call your veracity in question, and I decline Ipoking. So far- as I am informed, it generally is two o'clock jiist about this time in the morning — at least, it always has been whenever I istayed up to see. If the clock is right, you'll be apt to find it two just as it strikes two — that's the reason it strikes, and I don't know that it could have a better reason." " A pretty time !" • "Yes — pretty enough,"- responded Dawdle; "when it don't rain, one time of night is as pretty as another time of night — it's the people that's up in the time of night, that's not pretty; and you, Mrs. Dawdle, are a case in pint — keeping a man out of his own house. It's not the night that's not prettjii Mrs. Dawdle, but the goings-on, that's not — and you are the goings-on. As for me, I'm for peace — a dead-latch key and peace ; and I move that the goings-on be indefinitely postponed, because," Mrs. Dawdle, I've heard it all before — I know it like a book ; and if you insist on it, Mrs. Dawdle, I'll save you trouble, and speak the whole speech for you right off the reel, only I can't cry good when I'm jolly." But Dawson Dawdle's volubility, assumed for the purpose of hiding his own misgivingSj did not answer the end which he had in view; for Mi's. Dawson Dawdle, having had a glimpse Bt its effects, again resorted to the "silent system" of con- LOOK AT THE CLOCK. 97 nuliial management. . She spoke no more that night, which Dawson, perchance, found agreeable enough. But sha would not speak any more the day after, which perplexed him when he came down too late for breakfast, or returned ' 10 late for dinner. * " I do wish she would say something," muttered Dawdle j 'something cross, if she likes — anything, so it makes a noise. It makes a man feel bad, after he's used to being talked -to, not to be talked to in the regular old-fashioned way. When one's so accustomed to being blowed up, it seems as if he was lost or didn't belong to anybody, if no one sees to it that he's blowed up at the usual time. Bache- lors, perhaps, can get along well enough without having their comforts properly attended to in this respect. — Whati do they know, the miserable creatures, about such warm receptions, and such little endeaiments 1 When they are out too late, nobody's at home preparing a speech for them; but 1 feel just as if I was a widower, if I'm not talked to for not being at home in time." So Dawson Dawdle was thus impelled to efforts at reform, because his defaults and his deficiencies cuuld elicit no re- buke but that of an impenetrable silence; and, in cnnse- quence, he has of late been several times almost in time, and he begins to hope that he may be in time yet before he dies. As for Mrs. Dawson Dawdle, whose example is commend- ed to whom it may concern, she has adopted the -"silent system" of discipline, as a part of her domestic economy. She says nothing. Talk as she may when Dawdle is from home, he must be a good Dawdle — a love of a Dawdle — to induce her to the use of her tongue when he is about tha house. The intensity of the silence announces to him how far he has offended ; and the only notice now that is ac- corded to his errors in the computation of hours and minutes, is the hand upon the neck-handkerchief, and' that solemn and startling request before alluded to, which invites hira to " Look at the Clock !" 7 9& KEAL S. SKETCHES, SHERRIE KOBLER: OB, A SEARCH AFTER FUN. SiiERRiE RoBLER, did you say 1 Yes, — SherrieKobler. The namei of coursej strikes yon »»■ familiar ; and if it has been your fortune to be much "about," as the phrase goes, in the bustling scenes of a gay metropolis, it is more than probable that you. have, more or less, had the pleasure of fonaing an acquaintance with the illustrious individual — Sherrie Robler — to whom we now i^er. But let us be respectful to a colossal genius of the times, and accord to him all the typographical extension to which his worth is entitled. Leave it to cotemporaneous levity to curtail men's names of fair proportion, and to stab at dignity by the- vile processes of that abbreviation which terms you Dick, and calls mo Tom, as if we were too slight and insig- nificant to have ourselves spelt out in full. Sheridan Kobler, with All its longitude — at least, in the ■ preliminaries of in- troduction, however much wa may fall into the vulgar cus- tom as we proceed in narrative — Sheridan- Kobler, then, is a personage of intrinsic force; and, though bearing the name of a; wit, a statesman, a dramatist, and'>a bon vivant, he is one of the precious few who have proved themselves equal to their prenomen, and have been at all able to realize the' promise held out by the error of their parents. The paths of distinction lie comparatively open to your Sams, your Bens, and your Abrahams — but if the name be ambi- tious > — borrowed, as it were, from the memory of departed greatness — a double.^ load is imposed upon its unfortunatA BHERRIE KOBLER. 99 possessor, and he is doomed not only to work himself for- ward, but liliewise continually to provoke disadvantageous' comparison with him who has gone before ; and hence it is that this system of complimentary nomenclature has shown itself so bai-ren of results. It is, for the most part, the plain name-:— the simple, unpresuming name — the name without swagger, without dash, without complication — the name awakening no recollections of antecedent glory — that buoys itself upward into the ethereal regions of renown. But Sheridan Kobler has that within which is superior to impedi- ment, and triumphant over obstacles — Sheridan Kobler is an impulse and an energy; and if he had done nothing else' to entitle him to a world's admiration and remembrance, the mere fact that he first prepared, combined, and imbibed, the potation that bears his own title — Sherrie Kobler — would be sufficient to find him a place in grateful mouths long after the Caesars and Napoleons of the earth are forgotten. Who — let us ask — who calls for them — who — thirsty and impatient — cries aloud for a "Julius Caesar," or a " Na- poleon Bonaparte," to quench the fever of his frame 1 As well might he seek refreshment in dust and ashes, as in these, or cast himself in fiery furnaces, as ask the warrior's aid in such extremity. But it is not thus with Sheriie Kob- lev — "a Sherrie Kobler" — "two Sherrie Koblers" — " Sherrie Koblers for six " — "keep bringing Sberiie Kob- lers" — there's glory for you, in its broadest sense and in its most extended compass ; and so does Sherrie Kobler, crowned with a decanter, roll onward to the unborn centu- ries, cresting the " tenth wave" of imperishable renown. "Jeflf'erson shoes" and "Wellington boots" — their solus and uppers — may pass into the realms of oblivion, as men decay and fashions change. Where is now that tinct of " Navarino smoke" which once enveloped beauty in its silken folds; and where the " Talavera trowsers" that almost showed how fields were won 1 — Gone — all gone — their memory scarce remains in shops. Some newer incident 100 neal's sketches. usurps the place ; and even the all sorts of " Lafayetteg," that twenty years ago brought the " illustrious representa- tive of two hepiispheres" so frequently to view, what, we pray you, has become of them'! — Ay — "so fades the ghm- mering landscape on the sight;" and it is rare — if not almost one of the impossibilities — so to impress ourselves upon the minds of men that the image may escape erasure, and that our memory shall remain as sharply cut and as freshly carved as at first. We do not propose, therefore, to fly, like an exasperated hen, with contumelious boldness, into the wiinkled face of the established experiences, in honor of our present hero, the benignant Sherrie Kobler, of the nineteenth century. It may be that he, too, must undergo the lot of our common humanity and evaporate like the rest, of us. But still, it may be at least assumed that he can not be altogether lost sight of, while bar-rooms remain and glasses retain their shape. Punch has long been in the heads of people, and why not Sherrie Kobler ? — Let ambition take the hint. Why pile a pyramid, or build the mighty city 1 Why undergo phle- botomy ip battles, or seek to be immortal in the evanescent puffs of transitory newspapers ? These are but the shadows of a shade — the delusive phantasm of the moment; but Shen-ie Kobler — he is enshrined in men — not, observe ye, in the deceitfulness of their hearts, or in the frigid reasoning of their intellefct — but deeper, surer, safer, in the cravings of their stomach, there hoping to hold a state for ever — un- less — at which poor Sherrie Kobler shivers — unless the second deluge of cold water which now surges round him, hydropathically — this Sherrie Kobler can not swim — should destroy him too, as it once destroyed a world. But let us become acquainted with Sherrie Kobler him- self, having announced the peculiar fact by which-the reality of his existence has been carved upon the gate-posts of the age — for SheiTie Kobler is not a man of single merit — not a hero with " one virtue and a thousand crimes." Sherrie if SHERRIE KOBLER. 101 jovial, jocose, and jolly, at all points, like a chestnut bur or a porcupine — practically jocose and physically jolly ; and it is singular how he contrived to pass ever the minor consid- erations of annoyance to the rest of creation, in working out of them all the materials for fun which they were capable of produajng. Indeed, the youthful Sherrie Kobler, who now does " not misbeseem the promise of his spx'ing," was a de- lightful boy, to those who discern genius in its fainter strug- gling and feebler developments. At that time of life, he was not endowed with a supei-fluity of strength ; yet the lack of power was deliciously made up in adroitness ; and he could pull away the chair on which an elderly individual was about to deposite himself, with a hand so neat and clever that the tumble consequent thereon could not fail to -elicit gen- eral admiration. The crash was magnificent, though there were occasions on which the performance was productive somewhat of a suit of boxed ears, and various entertain- ments of that vivacious description, which are, perhaps, more practised than appreciated ; and it was thus a source of fre- quent complaint on the part of Sherrie and his admirers — especially when stout ladies and maiden aunts were discom- posed after his peculiar fashion — that " some people never know how to take a joke" — your joke probably not being " taken" when an equivalent is returned in sundry manipu- lations on the dexter and sinister aspects of your counte- nance. |(^ The world is apt to treat us — Sherrie Kobler and all — as Tony Lumpkin was treated at the Hardcastles' — "we are always snubbed when we are in spirits." So it was when SheiTie put brimstone on the stove or powder in the scuttle — nay, the joke was rarely taken when he had even encountered the trouble, on the coldest of nights. to lodge extensive snowballs in the beds, or to poUr water into every boot. People have no perception of fun what- ever; and having undergone detriment by finding salt in, their coffee or fishes in their pockets — nay, after having 102 neal's sketches. been caused to tumble downstairs through the devices of in genious trickery, they rarely laughed, while Sherrie Kofelei was convulsed with merriment. Isn't it queer 1 Not only so, but likewise when Sherrie endeavored to develop the martial spirit of the neighbor ohildi-en, by indu- cing them to practise pugilism on each other, thei» moth- ers, weakly repugnant to the visual and nasal traces of the fray — variegations of black and crimson — were most vocif- erous in complaint, as if there must not be attendant draw- backs to the accomplishment of every good ; and the case was not much better when Sherrie undertook to match JSrown's dog against Smith's cat, down there in the cellar. Besides, what harm is there in administering Cayenne pep- per to innocent urchins ? Does it not mak« them friskier than they ever were before, in the whole course of their lives 1 And if there be such voracity in ducks, that they will gobble up the stump of a lighted cigar, or try to chew a burning coal, whose fault is it, we ask you, that ducks are foolish ? Sherrie could not help it, if he desired to elicit £ax\, that his vicinity was always to be discovered by the roarings, yelpings, squealings, and scoldings, that invariably betokened his whereabouts ; and if he put out his foot as you passed — why didn't you take better care ? — it was you that fell down — not he. Sherrie Kobler went at one time largely, into the hoaxing business, and wfcld, in your name, sometime amuse himself _with advertising for cats or dogs in quantity, deliverable on your premises. Unv?ished-for cabs would call to convey you to most unwelcome places ; and the undertaker would come breathless with regi-.et at your sudden demise, yet quite wil- ling to perform the job of this premature interment. Shenie was likewise curious in what we may call peptic combina- tions, frequenting restaurants and oyster-cellars, to mix the castors after receipts of his own, which queerly united those various condiments that most people desire to commingle for themselves. He could also — accomplished youth-— BHERRn: KOBLES. 103 Biieeze so melodiously in church, as to provoke all the juve- niles to laughter ; and at an opera, he yawned so loudly and so judiciouslyat the most dulcet passages of the prima donna, that while some chuckled, others again cried " tuni him out." It is he, likewise, thait barks when the rest applaud. It will be seen, then, that fun is the staple of Sherrie Kob- ler's existence, and that fun he must have, at any cost and at any hazard. Let the poet ask, if he will, " What is life with out passion — s-ances, every one of these is fun, according to Sherrie Kobler and his followers, of whom there are a good many " about in spots," at this pres- ent writing. And so, if suddenly metamorphosed into a dictionary, arid called upon authoritatively to give a precise definition of tfa\s thing called fiin,- by the 'SheiTie Kotters arid by " t%% bc^" 104 NEAL'3 SKETCHES. in general, it might be said, in sweeping terms, tliat fun \t nuisance, and that nuisance is fun. Fun, to be fun at all, must annoy every one (excepting the funny ones themselves),, who chance to be within the sphere of its influence ; and it rises in the scale of funniment, just in propoition as it in- creases in qualities of the disagreeable and painful sort. Thus Sherrie Kobler, being a funny one, rejoices in all man- ner of superfluous noises. He laughs with a reverberating yell and an explosive violence that remind one of the storm- ing of Ciudad Roderigo, or the Battle of Prague — the louder and the more appalling is his scream in proportion to the insignificance of the cause of laughter, as if to make up in din for a deficiency in sport. The slamming of doors " in the dead waste and middle of the night," is another of Sher- rie Kobler's enjoyments, as he rattles up and down stairs, like a drove of oxen or the battalion of flying artillery at drill ; and he practices upon trumpets, bugles, cornets, and so forth, precisely as the " sma' hours" of the morning begin to strike-— enchanting Sherrie Kobler! Sheriie has also a great fancy for the keeping of dogs — there's such a deal of fun in dogs — in dogs that bark, for example — sharp, excruciating, and excoriating terriers, down below in the yard, which challenge every passing footstep or recurring noise, with a piercing eloquence that causes each nerve to tingle ; or a forlorn pointer tied with a rope, that howls at moonbeams and yelps at the intervening cloud. There is a nocturnal pleasantry at Sherrie Kobler's, which must be felt to be appreciated. The dog at distance leads the choir, and never calls for aid in vain. The hint once given, the full pack open at once, and a general cry prevails. Who, then, so happy as Sherrie Kobler, as he hears the sleepless neighborhood shout in vain from windows — "get out!" — "lie down!" — "shut up!": — whistling, coaxing, raging, for a little sleep, with dashings of water, and show- erings of bits of soap, of sticks, or brushes, or boots, just as the ch«i9ber furnishes material for such projectile demon- SHERRIF, KOBLER. 105 strationsl Ha! ha! fun alive for Shenie Kobler. With siich a night, he is content to doze all day. Shenie, you see, is fond of pets, because, as you may ob serve, when there are no other present means of eliciting fun, through the instrumentality of pets a! secondary degree of fun may be extracted from the pet itself. A melancholy life, in the vast majority of cases, is the life of a pet — as sad almost as that of the retained jester of the olden time — and hence your pet — canine, particularly — is almost always cynical and misanthropic. Unhappy pet! it is for thee to be washed, and combed, and adorned, and kept in chambers, with ribands and with bells, while thy brothers and thy sisters riot in dust and liberty! It is for thee, too, to be taught tricks, all foreign to thy nature — to learn these sittings-up and lyings-down, and giving me your paw, and jumpings-over sticks ! Harsh rebukes are for thee, with slaps and pinches — fondlings now, and cufEngs then, with all those bodily disquiets which arise from uncongenial atmospheres and un- wholesome feedings. Pampered and puffy pet — no wonder thou art cross, for thy whole existence is perchance a thwart- ing and a crossing of nature's design for thee ! — a splendid misery is thine, poor pet, even when most caressed and vaunted. No wonder pets will run away whenever doors are open. There is no slavery like to theirs. Pray, pity pets ; and pity, beyond all others, the pets of Shen-ie Kobler, which are doomed, in one way or in another, to furnish fun, and which can not even take the naps of weariness and ex- haustion, without a chance of Canton crackers to the nose or distressing canisters to the tail. Thank your stars, my sigh- ing friend — that is, if you are ungi-ateful and repining — that we are not compelled to " hold opinion with Pythago- ras," or to have faith in the theory of transmigration ; for would it not be doleful to change hereafter into the pet of funny men 1 Or what more fearful retribution could there be, than for the funny man himself — in quadrupedal meta- morphosis — to be converted into the pet of men still funnier 106 keal's sketches. and more practical in joking than he has ever been 1 By the way, tyrannic — sir, shall we say, or madam — did it ever cross your mind, touching this realization of the " Lex Talionis," which will return you like for like, and cause you to feci remorsefully wliatever pang you may have j;iven to others ? You, thait chide and fail, beware lest the ser- vant's post be yours — you, tha:t spur the willing steed to death, would such goadings thrill pleasantly through your own person ? And, Sherrie Koblers, what if you should "hold the p ace of pet to Sherrie Koblers yet unborn J Think ■of it often — " what if my own measure be hereafter meted out to me V — and check the selfish impulse. Sherrie Kobler's last arrangement of this sort, is in the shape of a bull-terriei' — aTi imported dog, direct from over sea, and full, of course, of savagenesses and prejudices — u carping, crusty dog, whose whole life is one of quarrel and of fence — a dog that never frisks or smiles. No man e'er saw a jocund wagging of the tail in him — no, nor a playful bound — obviously, a dog disgusted with the world — devoid of hope or love — of fear, favor, or affection. " The funniest dog you ever saw," says Sherrie Kobler ; " bite anybody but me ; and when he once takes hold, he never lets go again. I never had so much fun with any dc^ in my life. He has had a bite out of almost everybody I know, and has swallowed samples of all my friends. He shakes 'em beautifiil I You should see him astonish the match-boys and the apple-girls, when they come in at the front-door ; and every day, as I sit at the window, that dog, who can do anything but talk, is "sure to gather a crowd. Sometimes he takes a horse by the nose, or anotber dog by the throat, or some respectable old gentleman by the calf of the leg ; and then the fun of it is to see 'em try to make him let go, with their cold water, big sticks, and all that. Yes, that dog — Ole Bull — is worth his weight in gold — the fun- niest dog anywhere's about." When Sherrie Kobler feels dull or dejected — as the gay- SHERRIG KOBLER. 107 est sometimes will — for there is no sunshine without its occasional cloud — he calls up Ole Bull to entertain him, and laughs to see the illustrious Ole chase visiters down stairs. You may see him now, disporting himself with the coat-tails of one of Ml'. Sherrie Kobler's chief creditors, preparatory to munching up a portion of the individual. "Wonderful dog, that Ole Bull!" cried Sherrie Kobler : " he can tell a man with a bill in his pocket, just like a book ■^he can't bear anything bilious. Deal of fun in that dog." But the chief creditor aforesaid had not a perceptive fac- ulty in reference to the humorous, especially when the joke was at his own expense. He intimated indeed — the unrea- sonable creature — that it was a little too bad to be bitten so deeply, first by Ole Bull's master, and then by Ole Bull him- self — the practice was too sharp altogether ; and so he took measures to curtail Sherrie Kobler's enjoyment of life, and contributed to bring that amiable personage's public career as "a man about town'.' to a melancholy close and a disas- trous twilight. Fun, we find, is not commercially productive, and is not yet regarded in the light of a legal tender for the payment of debts. Neither do bull-terriers pass current for bullion or relief-notes. Sherrie Kobler, therefore, could not pay, and consequently was allowed to joke no more at large ; but as he left his lodgings, in charge of an officer, he took occasion to vent his exasperated feelings in a manner con- genial to the circumstances, by dealing out a potent kick to his deposed favorite, Ole Bull ; and Ole Bull — " Ingratitude more strong than traitors' arms" — did not hesitate to follow the lead thus given, according to the capabilities and resources with which he is gifted. Ole Bull borrowed a bit from his master. The officer laughed — swore it was comical — roared over it as a good joke — thought Ole Bull the funniest dog he ever 108 neal'h sketches. saw in his life. But as for Sherrie Kobler — hold! — let a veil be drawn over the griefs we can not hope to depict. The result proved that fun is fun, relatively — according to the position we occupy in regard to the act of fun. When Sherrie Kobler laughed and roared, it is sure that some one else was weeping ; and perhaps it would not be amiss for all, as they pass through life, to endeavor to view both sides of every question, that our enjoyment may not be neutralized in the broad account by the suffering of other's — a wisdom to which, it may be, that Sherrie Koblers rarely help us. SINGLETON S.VIPPE. JOS SINGLETON SNIPPE: WHO MARRIED FOR A LIVING. "Used to be — " We have, as a general rule, an aversion to this species of qualifying phraseology, in which so many are prone to indulge. It seems to argue a disposition like to that of lago, who " was nothing, if not critical ;" and it indicates a ten- dency to spy out flaws and to look after defect — a disposi- tion and a tendency at war, we think, with that rational scheme of happiness which derives its comfort from the I'e- flection of the sunny side of things. "It was" — " she has been" — " he used to be" — and so forth, as if all merit were a reminiscence — if not past, at least passing away. Is that a pleasure ? Would it pot be quite as well to applaud the present aspect, and to be satisfied with the existing circum- stances, instead of murmuring over the fact that once it was brighter ? But yet there is a difference — Yes — decidedly — the matter here is beyond the possi- oility of a dispute. There isa difference — lamentable enough, you may term it — between the Singleton Snippe that was, and the Single ton Snippe that is. The Singleton Snippe that was, is not now an existence; and the probabilities are that he never will be again. Nothing is stable in this world but instability ; and the livery-stable of to-day is converted into something else on the moiTow, never more to be a stable, unstable stable. And so with men as well as with horses — for this perpetual revolution 110 NEAL^S SKKTCHES. of human affairs goeth not backward, except when the rope breaks on an inclined plane, making it a down-hill sort of a business. Snippe is on the down-hill — rather. The Singleton Snippe that is, stands picturesquely and pictorially before you — patiently, as it were, and on a mon- ument. And now, was there ever — we ask the question of those ^ho remember Snippe in his primitive and natural state — ■ was there ever a merrier fellow than the said Singleton Snippe, in the original, if we may term it so — before the said Singleton was translated into his present condition, and be- came tamed down from his erratic, independent eccentiicities to the patient tolerance of the band-box and the bundle? Who, thus remembering and thus contrasting Singleton Snippe as he was, with the Singleton Snippe as he is now portrayed, could possibly believe that there are processes in life — chymistries and alchymies — which could bring the man of to-day so diametrically opposite to the same man of yesterday ; and cause the Singleton Snippe of the past to differ with such strangeness from the Singleton Snippe of the cuiTent era? Two Snippes, as plain as maybe; but legal- ly and responsibly the same Snippe. There was Snippe the bold — Snippe the reckless — Snippe the gay and hilarious — scoffing, joking, jeering Snippe r- Snippe that was always on hand for mischief or for fun — Snippe, with the cigar in his' mouth, or the champagne-glass in his grasp — yes, the veiy Snippe whom you have so often heard in the street, disturbing slumber by the loud and musical avowal of his deliberate determination not to " go home till morning,'' as if it would, barring the advantage of the daylight, be any easier to him then, and whose existence was ever a scene of uproar and jollity, except in the repentant intervals of head- ache and exhaustion. And then, besides his ornamental purposes, he was such a useful member of society, this Sin- gleton Snippe, in the consumption of the good things of this life at the restaurants and" in the oyster saloon. SINGLETON SMPPE. Ill Was not that a Snippe — something like a Snippe 1 But, alas for Snippe, the last representative of the illus-i trious firm of " Tom & Jerry." Who is there now — now ihat Snippe is withdrawn as a partner fi-om the establish- ment — to maintain the credit of the house? Snippe is snubbed — snubbed is Snippe. Well, well, well — let the watchmen — sweet voices of the night — rejoice iu their boxes, if they will, over their pine-kindlings, and their hot sheet-iron stoves — rejoice in their cosy slumbers, that the original Snippe no longer molests their ancient, solitary reign, by uncouth noises, preliminary, symphonious, and symptomatic to a row. And let the cabmen — want a cab, sir ? — be merry, too, with rein in hand, or reclining against the friendly wall, that they are no more to be victimized by -the practical jocularities of the school of Singleton Snippe. What relish have they for the gracefulness of existence — its little playful embellishments that bead and dimple the dull surface of the pond into the varieties of playful fantasy. Such as these would describe a boy of the superlative order of merit, as " one that goes straight home and never stops to play on the road;" and we all know that Singleton Snippe never went straight home in the whole course of his experience. Home ! Home, it should be understood, so much vaunted by the poets, and so greatly delighted in by the antipodes to Snippe, is regarded in quite a different light — humdrumish — by the disciples of Snippeism. Home, according to them, is not so much a spot to retire to, as a place to escape from — a centre of rendezvous, no doubt, with the washerwoman, the bootblack, and other indispensable people of that sort. Snippe's new clothes were always sent home ; and long bills, provocative of long faces, were apt to follow them with the certainty of cause and effect. — But to stay at home him- self — what — Snippe? — He stay at home ? He was called for occasionally at that point — his breakfast was taken there. 1 13 NEAL's EKETCIIES. when any degree of appetite remained from the preceding night ; and a note would eventually reach its destination if left for him there. But it required a very unusual conjunc- tion ofijircumstances to find Singleton Suippe at home more frequently than could be helped. Home, in Snippe's estima- tion, was the embodiment of a yarn — he never heard of it without the most extended of gapes. He could not speak of it without opening his mouth to the extent of its volume; and Snippe's mouth is not a diamond edition, but rather an octavo, if not rising to the dignity of a quarto, at least when he is drinking. " Home !" said he ; "home's a bore. What fun is there at home, except dozing over the fire, or snoring on a sofa ?" Home, indeed ! — Talk to Snippe about staying at home, if you would risk a home-ici.de. To be sure, when too ill to run about. Singleton Snippe remained 'unwillingly at home, as if it were an hospital; and he stayed at home once for the space of an evening, merely to try the experiment, when he was in health ; but before he went to bed, Snippe had thoughts of sending for the coroner, to sit upon his body, but changed his mind and brewed a jorum of punch, which, after he had shod the cat with walnut shells, somewhat rec- onciled him to the monotony of domestic enjoyment. But Snippe never stayed at home again, not he. Home is where the heart is; and Snippe's heart was a traveller — a locomo- tive heart, preambulating ; and it had no tendencies toward circumscription and confine. That put him out of heart al- together. "Wherever anything was going on — "a fight or a foot- race, " according to popular phraseology, which thus dis- tinguishes the desirable in the shape of spectacular enter- tainment — there was Snippe, with his hat set knowingly on one side, to indicate that if others felt out .of their element on the occasion, he, Snippe, was perfectly at home, under all circumstances — the more at home, the more singular the occasion, and the more strange the circumstance ; and his EINfiI.ETON SNIFPE. 113 hat was the more knowingly set on to indicate the extent of his superiority to vulgar prejudices. It was the hat of a, practical philosopher — a thorough-bred man of the world, who could extract sport fr»m anything, and who did not care, so that the occurrence afforded excitement, whether other people thought it reprehensible or not. — Yes, yes — there is much in a hat — talk of your physiognomy and your phrenology — what are they as indications of character, feel- ing, and disposition, compared to the "set" of one's beaver? Look at courage, will youy vyith his hat drawn resolutely down upon its determined brow. Dare you dispute the way with such a hat as that f The meek one and the lowly, with his hat placed timidly on the back of his head — does not every bully practice imposition there ? Hats turned up behind, indicate a scornful indifference to- public opinion in all its phases — say what yoii will, who cares ? While the hat turned up before, has in it a generous confidence, free from suspicion of contempt. Nay, more — when science has made a further progress, why should not the expression of the hat afford knowledge of the passing mood of mind in its wearer, the hat shifting and changing in position as the brain beneath forms new combinations of thought? Let' the shop- boy answer ; does he not discover at a glance, from the style in which his master wears .his hat at the moment, whether he, the subordinate, is to be greeted with scoldings and re- proaches, or vyith commendations and' applause I Does not the hat paternal forbode the sunshine or the storm ; and as the pedagogue approaches school, where is the trembling truant who does not discern " the mom's disaster" from tha cocking of that awrful hat 1 There can not be a doubt of it. The science of the hat yet remains to be developed ; and deep down in the realms of ignorance are they who have not reflected yet upon the clue afforded by the hat to what is passing in the soul of him who wears it. Thus, you could distinguish Singleton Snippe's hat at- a horse-race, at a riot, or at a fire — equally delighted was that 8 hat at every 6peci$i$ of uproar — in the street — tbe lobby— thp bar-room, or wJier^ver else that hat could spy out "fun," .the great staple of its existence, with this advantage* that it had an irjstjnct ©f: peril, and could extricate itself, fi-om dan- ger without the slightest ruffling of its fur. grippe was wise — Snippe preferred that all detriments should fall tp the ehai-e others, while the joke remained with hita. Bui at last a change I'each^d even unto the hat of Snippe — Qhang^ cotnes to all ; a change, singularly enpugji, thajt ^qTs, all other Qfeaipg^ from th^ pockety of Snippe, He was pbliged ta discover that the mere entertainments of life ar^ QOt 9 coiJiiQodity to live upon, and that ];iowever pleasant it vasy be tP amose gne's Eelf; the pi'ofits thereon accruing do pot furni^ cpntinued means of del^ctatioD and ^i^light. iSivip{)Q neglpoted bis bvisinQs^, tpa^ consequently, his busi- ■n^ss, with a perversity peculiar to bu^ine^s, neglected Snippe — so tbat Snippe and Snippe's business bad, a fftU- i9g o».t. " TWs will nevet do," dpijlared gijippe, aftgr deep spflec- ,tlo)a On the subjeej pf wayfl and means — " never dp in th^ But y?t it did do— -did do for Singl^tgn Snippe, an^ effect- ually broke him up ip th? mercantile livay, which involved sU ^h^ ways j and so Mr. Snipps resojyfd to malse the Boost available s^i^rkeit that presented itself for th«j i-^trieval of p,%9t f rror. Snippe resolved to marry — adv^ptageously, of course. Snippe was not poetical — h? had no vein of romance ia his constitutioii ; he cQ^ld liv«i vei-y well by Hkb- •eelf, if be only had the means for that purpose ; but not hav- ing tbe means, unfortunate Snippe, be determined to live by somebody else, living of some sort being a matter of neces- sity m Snippe's estimation, though . no other person coul^ discover what necessjty there was for the living of Snippe. The world might revolve without a Snippe j and affairs gen- erally wpuhj Wprk amQOaiiker rarely says any- thing, and was never known to joke — he abhors joking — he can not imagine what it means. Spanker drives a buggy, and suffers Quozzle to talk to him and to give him good ad- QtiNTus quozzle's catastrophe. 129 vice. A world of wisdom has thus been addressed to Spanker, and Spanker is remarkable for having kept it all to himself. They are consequently well calculated to trsfvel together, as Qunzzle does not keep a buggy for his own use, and as Spanker can not always find a companion to ride out with him. Quozzle criticises the construction of buggies and theorizes upon the art of driving ; Spanker continually keeps Saying nothing, and is rather soothed than otherwise by the hum of Quozzle's voice, the idea not being sufiered to penetrate. ' It was on an occasion of this sort, that Quozzle and Spanker rode down to Point Breeze, it being Quozzle's determination to let the folks thereabouts see how the noble game of ninepins ought to be played. " FIT astonish 'em, Spanker," said Quozzle, as he took his seat. But he did not remain quiet long. " See here. Bob," remarked Quozzle, " you don't know how — upon my word you don't — see here, now — just lend me the yyhip," and Quozzle took the instrument from his hand — "now then — let's pass these fellows — you steer, and I'll cut — there's nothing requires more judgment than to cut at the right moment — there's a genius in cutting." And, after causing the lash to whistle scientifically round his head, Quozzle did " cut" with a vengeance. Spanker's hoi'se was indignant at the unwonted infliction and at the un- pleasant afiliction ; and, after rearing and plunging for a mo- ment, the outraged animal dashed forward with the speed of lightning. "Hold him in. Bob! — why don't you hold him in?" screamed Quozzle ; " why don't you stop him, as I tell you ?" " Why bec«use I can't hold him in," replied the panting Mr. Spanker, " and because he won't stop — he'll never stop any more." " Let me," cried Quozzle, somewhat alarmed at the ex- tremity of the danger, "let me — you don't know how — you pull one rein, and I'll pull the other." But, as in such at- 9 ISflf NEAL S SKETCHEa. tempts, it i$ difficult nicely to adjust the balance of power, aijd. to preserve a due equilibrium, the vehicle, naturally enough, swung round as if on a pivot, dashing ^gginst the market-cart of an old lady, from " down the neck." Now any one who has happened to try the experiment,, must be perfectly aware that the delicate grace of a buggy, notwith- standing its superior costliness, seldom comes in contact with the masculine energy of a market-cart, without experiencing some degree of detriment, while the cart itself cares little or nothing about the matter. Bob Spanker's establishment was doomed to realize the philosophical correctness of this position, being, as it were, resolved into its original elements. As for the horse, he set forth, rapidly enough, on an excur- sion of pleasure, to be charged to his own individual account, as he did not see that he could be of further use, under all the circumstances of the case ; and he carried two little bits of shaft with him, as a relic of the catastrophe ; leaving both Quozzle and Spanker to repose ignominiously in the dust. The old lady, in a charitable manner, placed a cabbage under each of their heads, considering the vegetatle to be appropriately soft and calculated to sooth their anguish, and they lay for a time, " like wairiors taking their rest." " Poor dears," cried the lady, benevolently, " I shouldn't wonder if each of 'em had cracked his calabash, they came down with such a squash. Before I could say beans, they were both shelled out, and here they are ; they sprung up like a hopper-grass, but are cut down like a sparrow-grass." " Who says I'm cracked?" gasped Quozzle ; " I told him what to do — but nobody knows what to do, and nobody knows how to do it, when they are told, except myself — trust 'em and you're sure to be upset. Next time I must cut and drive too!" It was, therefore, evident enough, that whatever else might be broken, Q,uozzle's organ of self-esteem remained unhm't, proudly triumphing over the wreck of caniage and the crash of cart. Whenever he alludes to the matter, he instances It QUINTUS qUOZZLE's CATASTROPHE. 131 as another evidence of the incapacity of other people to hold the reins — nobody knows how to drive but himself. If Spanker had followed his advice to " hold in," he is sure that no mischief could have happened. But it is the ino\ /ta- ble luck of the Quozzles to encounter mischance through the inefficiency of other people — somebody else is always in fault ; and Quozzle is determined never again to take a ride, unless he has the whole and sole control of the enter- prise. Spanker is of opinion that Quozzle shonld pay at- least half the damage ; but Quozzle objects, on the ground that he was only a passenger — according to his view, it is a limited partnership in such cases, involving the invited guest only to the extent of his neck. 132 neal's sketches. DASHES AT LTFE: Oa, SPLASHES IN PHILADELPHIA. It has always been a favorite scheme with the philas thropic to provide bathing for the million, so that every one at least once a week, should be enabled to enjoy the luxury of a cold bath, in addition to the salutary effects of that spe- cies of application ; and accordingly, from time to time, a multitude of plans have been proposed to accomplish that desirable end, washing for the million ! How much there is of tonic influence in the idea 1 How the eyes sparkle and the cuticle glows at the thought of these amphibious recrea- tions. Water is cheap — water is plenty — there are whole rivers, lakes, oceans of water running to waste. But as civ- ilized man — man who- must live in the close pent city, and devote every waking hour to the toil of providing for sub- sistence — can not well go to the water, and as the water does not come to him in spontaneous lavations, this washing for the million remains, throughout the world, ratlier a mat- ter of theory than of practice, and " the great unwashed" is perhaps a phrase of as much import as when it was first coined in derision of the unfortunate. Thus it is everywhere — almost everywhere — indeed, everywhere, except in Philadelphia. No one who walks our streets can have reason justly to complain that there is anything of niggardliness in the distribution of water here- abouts; and whether you wish the footbath — pediluvium — or a showery application to the head and shoulders, you may be certain of it that your desires will be gratified to the u» '^^iQy ideas that would not bring sixpence for a hundred in the in- tellectual market, and which are by no means a fruitage wor- thy of any species of preseiTation; but an idea of that grand and comprehensive force of generalization, which set David Dumps up iri business as a philosopher for the rest of his life, rendering him as nearly good for nothing, as his most ardent admirer could desire. It was a leading idea, to which David Dumps could bend all things, and from which he could-, at any moment, deduce the most bitter of dissatisfac- tions. David stood with his mouth open to its full extent that the idea aforesaid, as it knocked againt his cranium for admission, ihight be swallowed whole, which, possibly, is the reason why so many people open their mouths extensively at strange sights and unaccustomed #ord8^ the eye and the ear hot being sufficient to receive the' impression. Always, therefore, do the like when you wish' to understand anything completely, and wear your- mouth ajar at all times and sea- sons ; for who knows what you may catch; if the trap ho alwrays set and ready to spring upon anything that passes. But when David Dumps felt that he had secui-ed the new idea, he shut his mouth with a snap, to make all safe, that his new idea might not fly out again as rapidly as it had gone in. Besides, he had gained wisdom enough for one day — as much, indeed, in his private opinion, as others collect in the whole course of their mortal lives; and he felt also that, per- chance, he might injure himself and bring on mental dis^ep- gia, if there should be any sudden addition to the dose of wisdom which he had just taken. We must allow due time for the new idea to become assimilated to the old stock of intelligence, before* we increase the supply, or the whole establishment may be thrown into inexplicable confiision. DAVID DUMPS. . 161 " Some peopld," remarked Davjd, after a long pause, in the course of which his nose hitched itself into wrinkles of supreme contempt, " some people never know nothing more than they know'd at first — they only know what they are told, and couldn't find a thought for themselves if it was' "a^ laying right before them squeaking to be taken up. There's not many that ever ketch an idea on their own hook ; and they couldn't, if ideas were as thick as huckleberries on a bush. It takes such folks as me, who have heads for use and not for show, to discover the wisdom that's to be found in things. And so, while other people are laughing and re- joicing in their foolishness, because they can't see straight, ypu may hear me groaning at least a mile off, because I can see right through everything. " Now as to them dogs and them cats." It appears to me, though I can't say I ever heard 'em at it — but it appears to me that they must be laughing at us all the time — for thjy are always idling or sleeping or feeding at our cost and expense, while we are at work from the time we get up till we go to bed again. What do they do, I'd like to knovv, but canceuvre round to enjoy themselves, while we have to get up and make fii-es, and cook wittals as much for them as for ourselves? — Oh, yes — warn and stretch, doggie — look at me lazy with your eyes half shut, for its me that's at woi'k, not you. And now the fire bui'ns a little, down you go in the warmest corner, as if you were one of the upper ten-thou-. sandei's, and had your boots cleaned every day by a colored pussun. You don't have to pay taxes, nutther, nor milishy fines — we have to go to market for you and let you in when you scratch at the door. And so, get out, warmint !" and ]>avid lent the dog another kick — kicks being always lent, »s the greatest favor, while blows, being cheaper, are freely given — lent the dog another kick, which put to flight at once not only the quadruped itself, but likewise all that quadruped's serenity of mind, while the cat, as another of the aristocratic 11 cird^itn^t with vejy neatly & sirtiilar fate, both retiring with doleful lamentstionB. " That's some cotnfort anyhow — if I can^^t make ytsu work, 1 can make you Sing out, which is very nigh as 'good ;" and 80 with some slight emotion of pleasure, down sat David Dumps, to warm himself and meditate still further upon the idea which he had partially broached as above, that in the main, the beasts, and the birds, including the fishes, are much better off in this world than David Dumps or any of his kind. And it is a Ikvorite topic of discourse with him even now, When grovirn unto man's estate of length of limb and anxiety of mind — " I^rd of himBelf, that heritage of v^o"— his thoughts are full of the injustices of natural history; and if it were not that through man's peculiar cunning, some part of the animal creation has nearly as hard a time of it as ~ Dumps himself, it is a doubt -whether Dumps would consent to remain in the world at all,jf he could find any particularly easy and pleasant way of getting himself out of it. A cigar-shop is the natural resort of the meditativ^ and inquiring. Smoke and speculation combine in perfect beauty, while the argument and the tobacco consume themselves together, leaving little but ashes behind. Men of the think- ing sort, are fond of congregating of evenings at the cigar- shop, where and at which time, politics, war nevtrs, anecdote, and metaphysics, are particularly rife. Yes, if you would note the current feature of the time, go to the barber's in the morning, and stop for your cigars at night. The cigar is the smoke pipe of the great social locomo' tive, and puffs it along, giving force to thought and fluency to expression. No great plan is laid — no grand project conceived, without the agency of cigars — at all " preparatory meetings," where two or three concoct public opinion for DAVID DUMPS. 163 tile masses, the cigar opens the debate and sharpens the wit, for discussion. Smoke, smoke is the mighty propulsive force of our country ; and things will never go quite properly until the judge lights his regalia on the bench, and the jui'or sports his favorite brand in the box. Then, and not till then, will justice go like smoke. Is talking your forte? — go to the cigar-shop, that you maybe sure of an audience. Would you rather listen to the experiences of others, get thee to the cigar-shop, for budding oratory there holds forth, with chequers, perchance, or dominoes, in the little back-room. David Dumps is, of course, a smoker — a man of son-ow is almost always a man of addiction to the weed, for what of comfort can he else- where find ? And so in full divan, seated beneath the wooden High- lander, who is always taking snuff, there — even there at Quiggs's cigarrery, David Dumps had broached it as a truth not to be controverted, that with the exception of his igno- rance of the various uses of the divine weed, it were better to be a dog than such a Roman. " That's my candied opinion, any how," said Dumps, dog- gedly, almost barking as he spoke. " Nothin's never right vnth Dumps," observed a fat gentleman with a rosy physiognomy, who looked as if everything agreed with him, just as he agreed with every- thing. "Dumps, Dumps, Dumps," remarked another individual, with a considerable quantity of whisker, round which the smoke curled as if they were burning brush on the premises ; " Dumps, what possible use can there be in your groaning all the time over what can not be helped? — It's very clear to me, Dumps, that you were not born to set the world to rights, and to fix everything over again just to suit yourself. It wouldn't be fair, Dumps, you see, even if it could be done, because may be, I shouldn't like it then any more than you like it now ; and so, every man would be obligated to have a 164 neal's sketches. little world all to himself; and hire a star to live in, the same way that people hire houses, paying rent by the quarter. See here, Dumps — if you happen to know any man that's rich enough to keep a grindstone, you had better go and have yourself made a littl^ smoother about the edges. You're so rough now, that you hurt yourself and everybody else. If the world don't suit you, there's nothing for it but to make yourself suit the world. That's the way I do." " Yes, yes, Dumps — try to be a man," remarked another — "be a reasonable critter, that puts up quietly with what he can't help — for Dumps, you'll find that you must put up with it whether or no, and growling is just so much of labor wasted. Wise folks never complain — they go right off and get a cigar or a fip's worth of cavendish, to sooth the feelin's. Be a man. Dumps — a reasonable critter." " A man, indeed," retorted Dumps, morosely rejoiced at the opportunity thus afforded to ring in his fevorite idea — " a pretty thing to be proud of — being a man. Why, what's a man, I'd like to know, to have to work and to scramble all the time for a miserable living, and then not to be able to get more than half a one, if you get that? — For my part, I'd be anything rather than a man. Nobody has good times in this world but the unreasonable critters, and they make their living easy. — Tell me, now, who asks a bird to pay up for what he wants ] — He has no bill to trouble him but his own bill — that's his due-bill. The cats, and the dogs, and the cattle — they play all the time if they want to — sleep and play. If it wasn't that the city-dogs has hard times of it in summer, when they're out and forget their muzzles, I'd get right down on all fours and bark — I'd join the bow-wow chorus, as the only free and independent set that's going." " But the horses. Dumps, and the mules, and the oxen — they are not much better off than you are." " Very true ; and there's some little comfort in that, as there is in a peep at the menagerie where they stir up the DAVID DUMPS. 16S animals and make them roar and growl for a living, like the tragedians at the theatre, though the animals don't get so much for the job. But that has nothing to do with the gen- eral principle, that in this world the reasonable critter has decidedly the worst of it in every possible p'int of view. Oh, what a blessed thing it would be, if we lived by suction, and had feathers — that's the grand idea I'm driving at — nateral clothing — spontaniferous jackets, and free gratis trowsaloons, with nothing to do but open our mouths when we want our dinner. Do chickens learn a trade, and are cockrobins bound 'prentice 1 Are calves sent to school, or did you ever see a brindled cow tj-ying to get a discount from the bank ] Do rabbits go about to borrow money in great haste when it's near three o'clock, or must poodle-dogs shy round the corner when they see creditors coming 1 — No ; it's left for me and for you to be full all the time of botheration and vexation, to keep life in our precious bodies. We don't lie down in the grass, to nibble a bit of clover between sleeps — you never saw me flutter up an apple-tree, to roost, with my head poked under my wing, or sitting with the pigeons atop of a chimbly, with no care on my mind only as to where I should fly to next, for the sake of fun. A man must not coil himself up on acellai'-door when the sun shines, or he'll be tuck up right away, as a fellow with no visible signs of living, when if rights was lights, all he should want as a visible sign of living would be a pretty good-sized mouth of his own, with a tolerable supply of teeth in it. Natur' ought to finish all we want to bite ; and what we should have to do would be to have ourselves provided with something to bite with ; and I'm pretty well off" as to that. Give me the eatables, and I'll be bound to find whatever else is needed to make out my dinner. But, no — not at all — that's not the way the world is carried on under the present system of operations. Natur' doesn't care how great your appetite is. She never minds if you're as hungry as a hawk. Sposin' you were to do as the animals and the birds do — take what 166 neal's sketches. you want and gobble it right up, why then they open a big book and say it's larceny — and so off you' re sent toMiamen- ein for a year or two, to learn better manners. Now did you ever see a burglarious sheep in the Black Maria, or a thieving chicken going along with a constable holding by the cuff of its neck ? I guess not -^ all these little comforts are kept for the reasonable critters — nobody else has the enjoy- ment but only men, and much good it does them. 5e a man, indeed ! — that's the worst of it. I am a man already, and am willing to^swop places with almost anything that isn't a man. I'd rather be a sunfish dodging about in the canal, to get clear of the boys with their pin-hooks, than to be the president of the United States, who always has trouble about him quite as big as his salary." Having thus unburthened his mind of the great idea that it did groan withal, David Dumps set forth with the largest of all possible cigars in his mouth, being firmly of the im- pression that otie's cigar should be proportioned to one's sor- row. A little cigat is an amusement, while it requires a big one to be a consolation. Where David passed the interve- ning time, we do not know, but at a late hour in the night, he was seen performing many curious antics in illustration of the idea. " I should like to be a calf," said he, and he bleated. "Oh, if I'd only been born a sheep," added he, and he baa'd. And thus the neighborhood was rendered vocal by all the sounds of the agricultural interests. We are not sure indeed but that he jumped upon a high step and crowed, and tones like that of a turkey-gobbler resounded along the street. There was no end to the eccentricities of David Dumps on that memora- ble night; but being unable to reach home, from divers an- tagonistic causes, he fell asleep in a corner, muttering that he wished he could have feathers to save the tailor's bill, could roost on a cherry-tree, to avoid the expenses of lodg- ing, and derive nourishment by an inhalation of the air, to escape the cost of beef-steaks. DAVID DCMPS. 16" " I want to be independent," sigbed he, " and I'll sleep nere by way of a beginning." Poor Dumps — his indifference caught him such a dread- ful cold, that he is disposed for the future to eschew all ex- periment upon new methods of living, and if he can not do exactly as the turkeys do, he will try to behave a little moi'e like other people, it being cheapest in the end. XfiS NEAL S SKETCHES. FLYNTEY HARTE: OR. THE HARDENING PROCESS. " I'll knock your head off!" accompanied by an effort, partially at least, to carry the threat into execution, formed the eai'liest outpouring of maternal tenderness that little Flyntey Haite could bring to mind ; and it made an impres- sion, both mental dnd physical, which time has been unable to efface. " L'll knock your head off!" exclaimed Mrs. Flyntey Harte — a good-enough woman in her way, everybody said, but, as the good-enough family often are, quite unused to self- restraint, innocent altogether of the theory and practice of self-governnient, and wofully addicted, when provoked or vexed, to extravagances of speech and redundancies of action. Such was particularly the case in thepresent instance. The young Flyntey being affected with a crossness and a perver- sity at a moment when the good lady aforesaid had no temper for the endurance — these stages of condition always happen out of time — the young Flyntey was, of course, forthwith accommodated with a sonorous box o' the ear, intended mainly to sooth his perturbed spirit, while it likewise served all the purposes of an orrery to his as yet unenlightened un- derstanding. Flyntey saw quite as many stars, in galaxy or in constellation, as ever became apparent to the astronomer; but unfortunately for Mrs. Flyntey Harte, the remedial means resorted to, rather tended to aggravate than to counteract the disorder; and little Flyntey, who had given offence in the first place by the expression of his uneasiness, having now FLTNTEY HARTE. 169 an increase to his uneasiness, set himself to work at an in- creased expression and with renewed offence. Consequently, there was quite a "bawl" at Mrs. Fljyntey Harte's, with more of music in it than was agreeable or diverting, in- ducing several other demonstrations, knockingly, at little Flyntey's head, to allay the storm which had been caused by knocks. " Won't you hush 1" — and as Flyntey gave no token of icquiescence, but, on the contrary, expanded his mouth still ivider, he was " taken and shaken," to the variation, though jerhaps not to the improvement of his vocal strain. The resources of genius, as regards the administration of aursery affairs, appeared at last to be exhausted. Mrs. Flyntey Harte sat down to rock herself, in all the energy of despair ; and little Flyntey Harte roared away as lustily as ever, over the gliefs, known and unknovtrn, which disturbed his mental ti-anquillity. But a new idea suddenly flashed into the ma- ternal mind, like one of those strategic inspirations which often gain the day when the battle is seemingly lost. " I'll give you something to cry for !" screamed the lady, again taking up the controversy, on the assumption that like cures like ; and it must be confessed that she was fully equal to her word. Little Flyntey was immediately furnished with something to cry for, in addition to that which he had received already, and being thus furnished, under a belief that by this species of urging he would the sooner be induced to cry him- self out, he took ample occasion to demonstrate the sound- ness and endurance of the lungs with which he was gifted, and perversely afforded no prospect whatever of being cried out in any reasonable space of time. " That boy will be the death of me !" thundered paternity, in the shape of Mr. Flyntey Harte, who had come ravening homeward for his dinner, and whose acerbities were, there- fore, in a high state of activity. " My dear, why don't you hush, him up at once 1" added he, giving force to the idea by a "dumb motion," pantomimic of the spank. 170 NEJ^L S SKETCHES. " He can'l be hushed up, as you call it," replied Mr». Plyntey Harte. " I'm sure it's not my fault — no mother pays more attention to her children than I do — I've been slapping him, and shaking him, off and on, for the whole blessed morning" — and she immediately offered a few sam- ples of both methods of operation — "but, in spite of all I can do, he is bad as bad can be yet. I can't think, for my part, what the brat would have." " Pshaw !" retorted old Mr. Flyntey Harte: "you women never know how to manage a child — let me at him a minute!" and Flyntey went at him with a zeal probably deserving of better success ; but little Flyntey Hai-te continued, notwith- standing all the parental care lavished upon him, to roar and to whine alternately until he fell fast asleep through weaii- ness and exhaustion. Thus ended one day in the life of little Flyntey Harte, this one day exposing with clearness the principle on which his domestic education was conducted, and perhaps, likewise, affording a glimpse of the results to which it led. His pa- rents had no other method of training intellect, and of foim- ing character, than that which may be described as the sys- tem of terrorism ; and, with the best intentions in the world, to " terrorism" they resorted, upon all occasions of difficulty. It seemed to simplify the problem so, and to condense, as it were, all the perplexing theories of youthful cultivation into a plain and practical docti'ine, capable of being applied on the instant, and under any circumstances whatever. There was a saving, too, of time, and care, and thought, in coming to the comfortable conclusion that the wisest way of bringing little Flyntey up, was to knock little Flyntey down. It lev- elled the difficulty at once, besides being so wholesome and pleasant to the instructor, who, in this view of the subject, is under no obligation to suppress wi'alh, or to restrain the emotions of impatience. On the contrary, it seems to be a permission to slap away, right and left, killing two birds with one stone, by at once gi'atifying your own pugnacity, and PLTNTEY HAETE. 171 giving your pupil an impulse forward in the walks of use- ful knowledge. But it must be confessed, however, unfortu- nately both for the theory here alluded to and for little Flyntey Harte himself, that, while no boy ever had more " pains" be- stowed upon him in the processes of education, it is also tnie that no boy ever yielded more "pains" in return — as if it were on a principle of poetical justice that caused the sowing and the reaping to be somewhat similar in kind. Flyntey was " corrected" every day of his existence — sometimes twice, if not thrice a day ; and yet popular report set him down proverbially as the worst lad in the neighborhood. Was it not strange that such should be the discouraging re- sult of so much toil of arm and expenditure of strap, and that the only advantage derived by either of the parties should be merely deducible from the exercise 1 Not an hour passed that it was not announced to little Flyntey, formally or informally, that his wickedness was be- yond all other wickedness ; and little Flyntey took it as matter of course, that he was wicked, that he must be wicked and wicked he therefore was, to all intents and purposes ; no good being expected from him, which, we take it, in a stout constitution, either for evil or its opposite, is as sure a way as any, of making it certain that no good will come. " Might just as well enjoy myself," said little Flyntey ; " they don't expect any better from me." It was astonishing to both father and mother that Flyntey had no instinctive notions about meum and tmtm ; and that he should have come into the world so sui-prisingly ignorant of the fundamental principles of the social compact, as to lay his unhallowed hands on whatever he wanted ; and we are constrained to admit that a knowledge of the rights of prop- erty was not spontaneous in his infant mind ; so that, if he desired to have a thing, it was most likely, jf occasion served, that he would take that very thing, putting it either into his mouth or into his pocket, with no very Berioue visitations of 172 NEA.I.'S SKETCHES. remorse for having gone contrary to the statutes. We can not well account for it, but there is no contending against the fact, made apparent so frequently, that Flyntey's propen- sities, appetites, and inclinations, were developed in advance of his reasoning and restraining pov/ers. Was he not a wicked one, the little Flyntey, not to comprehend, as soon as his eyes were open, that people on this earth are not to do exactly as they like ? — and what are we to expect from that childhood, like Flyntey's, which could not at once anticipate the wisdom gathered by years? Of course, there was but one recipe for expediting his intellectual progress, and many chastisements were invoked to ripen conscience, and to ex- pand causality. " Let that alone, you Flyntey ! "And why must I let it aloiie? — I want that — I wiUfaave that !" " Because, if you don't let it alone, I'll whip you vtdthin an inch of your life — I will, you thief!" The reasoning, perhaps, may be regarded as sound — there is no doubt whatever that the whipping to which it pointed was, in general, sound enough — but yet little Flyn- tey Harte could only understand from this admonition, not so much that it was his duty and his best interest to resist the impulses of his acquisitiveness, as that it was his policy so to regulate them as to " 'scape whipping." He saw nothing more than the arbitrary will of another and a stronger, based upon barefaced power, arraying itself against the cravings of his own individual will, and condescending to no kindly explanations of its conduct ; and little Flyntey, unconvinced, called in the flexibilities of insincerity and cunning, to enable him to creep round obstacles that he could not directly surmount. The petty larceny, in conse- quence, bloomed into ohe of his choicest accomplishments. Nay, even when .detection was inevitable, he weighed and balanced the good with the evil. If the pleasure of attain- ing his end seemed to transcend the torment of the penalty PLYNTEY HARTE. 173 he enjoyed the one at the cost of the other, and looked upon himself as a gainer by the bargain. Another singular result soon manifested itself. Little Flyntey Harte, though himself fresh, as it were, from the sorrows of affliction, and from the griefs of infliction, proved to be a tyrant and an oppi'essor — very ci-uel and very bar- barous, to all who were unable to defend themselves — he moved a teiTor to the smaller children, and a horror to the cats and dogs. He had, somehow or other — can you ima- gine how? — gathered one generalization into his magazine of maxims, that pain of a corporeal nature is the great actu- ating impulse of the world, and that it should be employed as a means of procuring amusement as freely as for any other purpose whatever. " If you are not hurt yourself," thought Flyntey, " it's prime sport to hurt other people," and accordingly, none were safe from his machinations in that respect ; and direful were the complaints on this score against little Flyntey Harte. But here again — what is to be done in such a easel — the precepts of humanity, so in- dustriously flogged into him, answered no other end than that of increasing the evil, by rendering it the more guarded, and the more difficult to avoid. Even the mollifying influence of ratan, cowskin, or horsewhip, were impotent in impait- ing the lessons of kindness, charity, and love. They rather aggravated the treacherousness of and malignity which they were intended to eradicate. There had been an endeavor, likewise, according to the canons of flagellation, to place young Flyntey Harte en rhpport with veracity, that he might, in the way of forming a creditable acquaintance, sometimes have to do with the truth. But, by his own sinister mode of reasoning, our hei'o came to peculiar conclusions : — " Flyntey, did you take that sugar, or smoke them cigars V inquired his father, as he gave significant pliancy to a rod; "come — tell the truth now." " If I do tell the truth," mused Flyntey, eying the rod 174 neal's sketched. askance, and estimating from long experience, its capacity for mischief, "if I do tell the truth, there is no mistake about it — I shall be whaled, sartin — but if I don't tell the truth, may be I'll get off clear — them's the chances ; and 1 go for the chances." " No, sir ; it wasn't me," replied Flyntey, with an iron countenance, and with that steady front of denial which practice in deceit is sure to give ; and it depended upon the chances aforesaid whether he should be chastised or not; but if, unluckily, the evidences of the deed, or the accidental exasperations of paternal temper were against him, Flyntey Harte would be corrected in extenso. In that event the re suit was still the same as befoi'e hinted at. " I'll teach you to steal sugar !" and the lesson did teach nira, not so much that the felonious appropriation of -forbid- den sweets was improper and unjustifiable, but that it should be done. Spartanlike, in a way to preclude the pos- sibility of being discovered. The deficiency was made up in sand. "I'll teach you to tell falsehoods!" and the teaching — which played lively enough about the back, but came not near the heart — did induce the patient to exercise more ingenuity in the getting up of denials, subterfuges, and eva- sions, than had been his preceding practice. " They talk to me a good deal about the truth," solilo- quized Flyntey, " and they say truth is a pretty nice sort of thing ; but I don't believe a word of it. Own up, must I, whenever I've had a bit of fun to myself] I sha'n't! — ■ Owning up is always a pair of boxed ears — I don't like that — and as for the truth, why that is a thunderin' big hiding, every time. They ask me for the truth ; and when I tell it, they always switch me ; and if I don't tell the truth, then they switch me to make me tell it ; and after I have told it, they switch me again, because I told it. Whenever I hear of the truth, it's as sure as can be, that switching is not far off. They always go together ; and I'll do my best PLTNTEY HARTE. 175 to keep out of snch disagreeable company. If they want to know who it was that broke the closet window, and took the preserves, let 'em find it out by their learning. It's just as easy to say no, as it is to say yes ; and it's cheaper, con- siderable. And now I'll go and enjoy myself. Catch me telling the truth, to get a flogging." "Fun! — yes — there's going to be fun this afternoon," muttered little Flyntey Harte, as he skulked about a house at the comer, now loitering at the pump, and anon gazing idly into the shop-windows, giving, from time to time, a short peculiar whistle, as a subdued signal to some desired companion. It could scarcely be said that Flyntey's coun- tenance wore a smile — the hardening process and its de- ceitful consequences had long ago swept smiles for ever from his face, and had left instead, a joyless contortion of feature that had nothing of mirthfulness about it, even when the cordage of his physiognomy pulled hard to open gates for laughter. Flyntey had no laughter in him — there was none of the joyousness of youth about his hard and care- worn look, with its premature expression of depravity ; and when he would be merry, it was awkward, ungainly, and unpractised, dashed too, with a tinge of malice and revenge, as if it were but an ambush for the stealthy approach of trick and enmity. But in the instance now referred to, it was evident that Flyntey had a thought within, which was pleasant to himself at least — whatever it might prove to others. " Fun for two !" again ejaculated he, with a gleam of stony delight ; and there was a cold sparkle in his eye, coupled with a compression of the lip that spoke of mis- chief. "Fun!" said he 1 — Fun needs to be defined. Many things are honored with the name of fun, which are eventu- ally discovered to be anything but fiin. The funny man is 176 EP.AL S SKETCHES. too often a sad fellow; and the frog is in the right of it, who decided that fun to me might be death to him. When such folks as Flyntey Harte thus rub their hands together, anticipating glee, the fun in contemplation is to be a mo- nopoly, leaving one of the parties to the affair as far from realizing the fun as can well be imagined. Ringing peo- ple's bells, considered in juvenility, is fun in some sort, as you thought once, and ran in joy away ; but it is a shrewd question with the philosopher, whether rheumatic and wearied Sally, after a hard day's work, is alive to a full appreciation of the fun which calls her, by tintinnabulation and these eccentric campanologian performances, from the deep recess of kitchen, or from sweet repose in gan'ets, to find none but nobody at street-doors. Do you not — most funny one — now hear her growling in reti'eat? Yes, Sally grumbles, ay, and Juba, too, to be disturbed in this, your funny fashion. The whole department of hoaxing and of practical jokery is of the same description of one-sided fun; and though it be set down as fun to throw eggs into a crowd, still, it is not often that the recipient thereof is overwhelmed with gratitude at the favor so liberally bestowed. A snow- ball in one's bed, or freezing water in a boot, often con- vulses the performer of the deed with deepest bursts of laughter ; yet it will be observed as a general rule, that the effect upon the person for whom all this trouble has been taken, is for the most part, and in the majority of instances, widely different ; as indeed will also show itself to be the case when a trap is left upon the stairs, to cause the unwary to go through a certain series of ground and lofty tumbling, for the amusement of those who are in the secret and who listen for the clatter. Thus, too, when the chair upon which you purpose to deposite yourself, is suddenly withdrawn, and your descent is considerably greater and more rapid than you had reason to anticipate, it is within the scope of likeli- hood that your usually placid brow will be coiTUgated with frowns, and that the few words you do speak in answer to PLTNTEY HARTB. VPt the mirth of bystanders, will embody more of the force than of the graces of our language. Flyntey's look, therefore, indicated some species of fun of this restricted nature — the sport to be all here — the an- noyance and the suffering all there ; and he now awaited the approach of an accomplice — one Badde Feller, who, with- out the intensity of character and the powers of invention, that so eminently distinguished Flyntey Harte, and made him instinctively a leader, had yet the faculty of following in another's trail, and of admiring the imprint of a broader footstep than hi? own. " Fun ! — where ?" inquired Badda Feller, with his usual sneaking smirk, being the,n in proceas of an errand, with a bottle in one hand, and a shilling in the other. *' Here !" growled Flyntey, tapping upon the breast of his jacket, with an air of lofty ^up^aiprity. " Ea^p in there, aud tell me what you t^ink of that V' " Why, if it isn't a pistil-— an 'gr^e pistil ! I» it IjQjTWeil" " Hooked, you goos^,*' r^pji^d Flyjjtey, ^th ^ Rwil^ ; " hooked round at Jones'a-^leave ms ?.lone for that-rrl>*^l?F was at the door, and I tumbled it off the eteps, for fug j but then, thinks I to my9.9lf> thinks I, noyit'ft the time ; %q I picked baby Jones up in my arms, gave baby Jonw a pinjsh ox two, to make it squeal the louder, and carried it into the $hop, poor little Jones! — the folks, all cam? running to see what was the matter — gave me two cent? for being a good boy, and, as I came out, I hooked the pistol ! ho ! ho !" "And shot off too, I guess, ha ! ha!" jocularly and do- lightedly added Badde Feller ; " it takes you, Flyntey, to do good things -77- I'd never thought of that 'are- — never." " I guess not: — but now we've got th» pistol, what el$e i# to be done V " Shoot Bom^thing, isustD't we V ad4^d Badde ^eUer, wiftb an innocent smile. "Kill somebody's dog, won't y/eV' "Ay; but Where's the powder, and the shot, end the bullets 1 Get them, and we'll shoot Jones''? pet cat t& h»gin 12 ■178 NEAL S SKETCHES. with. Stop — I have it — keep that bottle and sell it — give me the shilling to get the powder, and g,fterward you can tell your f honesty, humanity, and truthfulness, which as yet seemed to be a sealed book to his perverted eyes. The result, how- iBver, was as "striking" as the means employed; for young S'lyntey Harte beat a retreat in the middle of the night, after PLYNTEY HARTE. 179- breaking whatever was breakable, silently, about the house. His own clothes went with him, added to other choice selec- tions in the way of apparel ; and he took as much of the paternal -cash as became available in the opening of desks and drawers. Nay, he had even made well-intended ar- rangements for a domiciliary cohflagi'ation, which failed through mischance ; and the words — " GoN TO See," were scrawled in charcoal upon the wall of his chamber, in such equivocal orthogi'aphy, that none could tell whether he had embarked his fortunes on the ocean wave, or had merely set forth " to see" the world, in a more earthly way. But what- ever be the way chosen by young Flyntey Harte — on the waters or on the dry land — is a way which will lead to prisons, if not to that greater elevation whence it is usual to " dx'op the subject ;" and if so, it is left to considerati,>n where the blame and responsibility should rest, for all FlynUey Haite's mischances and misdeeds. The theme, perhaps, may be found woi'thy of a jnoment's thought, in its connexion with the varied systems of youthful training with which ou» age abounds. m \EAL S SKETCHES, THE MERRY CHRISTMAS AND THE HAPPY NEW YEAR OP MR. DUNN BROWN. Poor Mr. Dunn Brown !. l)o you not, friend, pity any one who thus bears engraved upon his front the unerring signs of a sad and discontented spirit — you, we mean, all of youj who are gifted — if, as this world goes, it be a gift to feel acutely those sorrows which appertain rather to our neighbors than ourselves — who are afEicted, then, if you prefer it so, with philanthropy and ten- derness of heart 1 Are you not dispQ^^d, when in the ntood, and with time to spare for the purpose, to weep over the un- known sufferings of the rueful Mr. Dunn Brown, and to enfer lai'gely on the work of sympathization and of condolement, shaking him gently by the hand, with a tear or two in your eye, as you advise him to be of good cheer, and to " get up and try it again ]" We are sure it must be so. Yet we fear that all of this disinterested Tcindness of yours is a waste and a throwing away of benevolence. Mr. Dunn Brown is not to be comforted — Mr. Dunn Brown does not wish to be comforted — Mr. Dunn Brown regards himself as happier to be unhappy than all the rest of the world as it revels in felicity and runs riot in delight. Laugh who will — sing who may — dance whoever has the agility — Dunn Brown has more of pleasure, according to his ideas of pleas- ure, in these doleful groanings of his than is to be conceived of by any of the inferior nature. For, as he thinks, they, poor creatures, " don't know any better." But he — Mr. Dunn Brown — will not enjoy delight upon such terms as MR. DUNN BROWN. 181 these — he knows a great deal better — ask him, and he will tell you 60 — and therefore, on a principle, makes the worst of things, and exults sulkily in his superior wisdom, with a smile of Bcornfulness and contempt for those triflers in the sunbeam who are so weak as to be content and merry. Dunn Brown is not to be Caught in the perpetration of such a silliness, but growls, he does, and grumbles, in all the ex- asperation of a splenetic spirit — the great, the wise, the profound Mr. Dunn Brown — who is there, anywhere, but Mr. Dunn Brown 1 Who is there that has been, can be, or will be, to compai'e with Mr. Dunn Brown ] True, Mr. Dunn Brown, with his keen perception of val- ues, wishes misanthropically, both night and- morning, that he never had been born, regarding it as the greatest misfor- tune that ever happened to him, to have made an appearance on this sublunary sphere of trouble and disquietude ; but, for all that, Mr. Dunn Brown is as firm as can be in the faith that it would have been a disaster to the world itself, if the age we live in had not been enlightened by his example, and by the comments on it which were only to be imagined and uttered by a man like him — if, indeed, there could by possi bility have been another man like him cotemporaneous with Mr. Dunn Brown — who firmly believes that, however it may be with others, he stands alone, Wfithout a parallel — only one Dunn Brown — the rest are verdant in their tinge and col- oring. He — he only — is not to be deceived by the toys and sugar-plums of existence, into a belief that there is any- thing worth living for — he sees, he knows, he comprehends; and he scorns the superficial gilding which makes others happy in their tineelled gingerbread. When Dunn Brown rises in the morning, he rails at the day which calls him to another succession of plagues and perplexities, in causing ends to nneet, and in pioviding for the demands of business. When Mr. Dunn Brown goes to bed at night, Mr. Dunn Brown is at least half inclined to the opinion, that if it were not for tlie loss that would thus be 182 neal's sketches. sustained by society, it would be an economy if h& were never to wake again: — a saving in the way of tears and a ren trenchrnent in the matter of misanthropic reflection. You should see Mr. Dunn Brown as he makes his forlorn appear- ance at the breakfast-table, and imbibes his nutriment — how he carps, how he complains, how he argues against the soundness of every proposition that may be broached j ob- jecting to the coffee, impugning the cakes, and placing the seal of his reprobation on the savoiy sausage ; croaking and eating until the argument and the appetite are both exhaust- ed, and his hunger and his querulousness are satisfied and silenced. Do see Mr. Dunn Brown at his breakfast, in pref- erence to a visit to the menagerie. Should the process be convei'ted into an exhibition, it would be cheap at twenty-fiv6 cents, only to acquire a knowledge of the ferocious capabili- ties of Mr. Dunn Brown. "And now, a merry Christmas to you, Mr. Dunn Brown." " Merry stuff — merry nonsense — merry -fiddlesticks 1" re- sponds Mr. Dunn Brown — " pretty merriment, indeed, to be compelled to empty your pockets, whether you want to oi' not, to give things to people who don't care a button about you, after they have obtained what they want, with their meiTy Christmas, and all that — and that's not the worst of it either, for you must bother your brains for a week, think- ing what you shall give them, and then not hit upon the right thing after all — all sorts of things, too, that are useless — fine books to those who never read, with precious curiosities that only serve to lumbet' up all the dark closets. Now, I'll leave it to any man, any woman — yes, and any child, I will, whether it is not the first requisite of a Christmsis-box, that it should not be available for any purpose — too fine to touch • — too frail to be employed. The whole house is cluttered up with Christmas-boxes ; and all the children are either crying over their broken toys, or are very sick, with surfeits of pie and candy. D'ye call that merry Christmas, I'd like to know?" MR. DUNN BROWN. 183 "Oh, yes — 'merry Christmas,' to be sure — and what does that mean ? Yes — what does that mean when you take your dictionary and translate it into plaia language 1 Why, a half-dollar at least, if it dues not come to a great deal more than fifty cents. You want to be merry at my expense, dp you, Mr.' Merry Christmas 1 — Well, when I'm sent to the legislatui'e, I'll have a law passed against all such merri- ments, I will.. Every man shall shake his own hand, and evei-ybpdy buy his owu Christmas-box — that's my notion, and that's the way I'd box 'em, all round, and see who'd be merry theB.^' "A happy New- Year, Mr. Dunn Brown — I wish you a very happy. New- Year." "A happy New-Year!" cries Mr. Dunn Brown; "I wieiJSf. you would tell me where I'm to find the happiness of the New- Year, when all the world comes pecking at me with their bills, as if a man tad nothing else to do but to pay money — everything going out and not a farthing coming ip — tailors' boys, bootmakers' boys— -all sorts of boys, bill in one hand and t'other hand extended for the cash, pulling at thd bell, too, as if it was the greatest sport in the world to pre- vent a man from having one moment of peace and happiness. And this is your New- Year — your happy New- Year 1 The old year was bad enough.; but each of your New- Years is a great deal worse than any that went before. I can say for one, that I never want to see a New-Year again as long as I live ; for no sooner is the old year fixed off comfortably, than in comes another to disturb the whole arrangement." It will thus be seen that Mr. Diinn Brown is ever to be found in that melancholy measure which is familiarly known to the rest of the world as " a peck of troubles ;" and th^tt whatever may chance to occur, it is certain to give riso to a discourse somewhat of the funereal order. To all anniversa- ries he has an especial aversion, and nothing moves his wrath more effectively than to speak of the celebration of a birth- tlay^liis own, or that of any other person. m NEAL S SKETCHES. " Your birtMay, Mr. Dunn Brown — is it not1 How old, Mi-. Dunti 'BrovVn V "How old?" — v^hy not, O world! — why not, in this liiattev, thange and transmute yon'r phraseology 1 How old ! — is it ^^i-g^ble thus to be reirninded of the course of time ' Und 'if 'thte jjro^resS 6f flfecay, by your " how old 1" Would it iiot bie as easy to bay, '• How yockig are you now," instead of IhtA coTitinnklly reminding people that their span on earth i« marching rapidly to its close ? "And here it i^ ^gain 1" exclaims Mr. Dunn Brown. " Why could not our lives have been begun at the other end, so that we might be growing younger every day, instead of dwindling into wrinkles and gi-ay hairs 1 — then they would *Wy 'te'fty years young,' instead of 'fifty years old,' which ■Would be vastly more agreeable— 'getting young fast' — wouldn't that be nice 1 But to rejoice over birthdays, the way they have tHetn now, it's the silliest thing I ever heard 'tif. 'Nobody Bees we making'a fuss about niy birthday, any iBorw than I do -about your merry Christmas and your happy NfeW-Year. No— I ketep just as quiet about it as ever I catt — ^sbrt'er dodge round it, trad try to make myself forget that there ever Was such a thing as a 'biithday, instead of 'ciphering over it as some people do, as if there were a pleasure in counting how much is gone and how little re- mains." It will, therefore, be perceived that Mr. Dunn Brown is a species of philosopher — sad bnd somhre — as we find it usu- ally the case with your inbipient philosopher, who, in the firet ■(itages of his advancement, cries aloud that all is barren. But Dunn BroWn advances no further than grumbletonianism ; and we fear that there he will remain, Dunn Brown, con- vinced that man, legitimately, is never properly employed unless he is engaged in the useful operation of shedding teai-s of vain regret and finding fault with that which is to be re- garded as the irremediable, not knowing that there is some- thing beyond this which enables humanity to make the beat MR. DUNN BROWN. 185 of its position and to be happy with the circumstances which surround it. Bat still, Dunn Brown has that negative happiness which consists in pluming hiliisfelf upon his superior sagacity iti the pleasant labor of the discovering trf miseries and the prepara- tion of tormfents, While he likevnse gathers comfort in the habit of despising those who are foolish enough not to engage in the cultivation of sorrow, which with Dtinn Btowh may be regarded as a species of wholesale manufacture. "Any man" — it is Dunn Brown's decided cotiviction, which he carries out practically — "any man — alive man, who is not decidedly Wiiser^blfe all the time he is alivis, must be a gdose — there's rio alternative. I'm thankful I'm not a goose, but ia sensible, "thinking individual, and, of course, just about is miserable a iiian aS you could wish to see, especially about the New-Year, whfen the silly ones keep up such a firing of gavcs, as if they could drive off the charges of cred- itors by the discharges of blank-cartridge — a thing not to be did. But I do wish that a man could somehow or other con- trive to i'uh away fi'om hitnSelf as easily as he can run away from rither -p^ci^le. If ah y body will iind out how to do that, he shall be remembered in my will, if there happens to be ianything over, which, fr'otai present appearances, isn't very likely." And so Mr. Dunn Brown sits down in his "old armchair," to rail at the world and to congratulate himself upon his own wretchedness, until he is shrivelled away to a mere anatomy, unhappy Dunn and melancholy Brown! One of his children is to be educated as a sexton, while the other is to walk abroad in the shadowy guise of an undertaker, as Dunn Brown himself saunters through creation as its mourner-in- chief, by constitution and by preference. Should he be smit- ten by the love of military renown, the regiment he belongs to must parade and muster as "the Blues" — no other color will serve — no other color can prevail where he is present; auJ should too much of miilhfulness pervade your vicinity 186 neal's sketches. $8k Mi\ Dunn Broyvn to step in now and then, and our life on it, there will soon be a sufficient infusion of gall and bit- terness, of misanthropy and, discontent, to qualify the whole matter to suit the most lugubrious fancy. Dunn Brown is a perpetual memento mori — an- everlasting remembrancer of the insecurity of all human happiness ; and we'd like to see any of you venture upon a laugh or try the experiment of a joke in his awful presence. Next to the obituary notices in the journals, one of Dunn Brovm's greatest enjoyments in life is in the perusal of the bulletin -boards of the newspaper- offices, when they recount the latest steamboat disaster, or the most recent catastrophe upon a railroad. Depend upon it, that he v\dll meet you on the wharf, or greet you at the depot, with all the most comfortable particulars of the peril you are about to encounter. In this respect, Dunn Brown is careful that you should have none of that species of bliss which is the offspring of ignorance ; and should you thus serve to furnish an item of " appalling intelligence," you will be pleased to remember, as the boiler bursts, that you would rush upon your fate in defiance of the friendly cautions of your careful fiiend, ,the immortal Dunn Brown, who knew well, how it would be, and who did not hesitate to tellyou so. Perhaps the thought may prove a source of comfort in your sufferings. At all events, 'twas not the fault of Mr. Dunn Brown. Was it, now 1 PELEG W. PONBEB. 18i PELEG W. PONDER: OH, THE POLITICIAN WITHOUT A SIDE. It is a curious thing — an unpleasant thing — a very em- barrassing sort of thing — but the truth must be told — if not at all times, at least sometimes ; and truth now compels the declaration, that Peleg W. Ponder, whose character is here portrayed, let him travel in any way, can not arrive at a conclusion. He never had one of his own. He scarcely knows a conclusion, even if he should chance to see one be- longing to other people. And, as for reaching a result, he would never be able to do it, if he could stretch like a giraffe. Results are beyond his compass. And his misfortune is, perhaps, hereditary, his mother's name having been Mrs. Perple.xity Ponder, whose earthly career came to an end while she was in dubitation as to which of the various physi- cians of the place should be called in. If there had been only one doctor in the town. Perplexity Ponder might have been saved. But there were many — and what could Per- 'plexity do in such a case 1 Ponder's father was run over by a wagon, as he stood de- bating .with himself, in the middle of the road, whether he should escape forward or retreat backward. There were two methods of extrication, and between them both old Pon- der became a victim. How then could their worthy son, Peleg, be expected to arrive at a conclusion ? He never does. 18S NEAL S SKETCHES. Yet, for one's general comfort and particular happiness, there does not appear to be any faculty more desirable than the power of " making up the mind." , Right or wrong, it saves a deal of wear and tear ; and it prevents an infinite variety of trouble. Commend us to the individual who closes upon propositions like a nutcracker — whose promptness of will has a sledgie-hammer way with it, and hits nails contin- ually on the head. Genius may be brilliant — talent com- manding ; but what is genius, or what is talent, if it lack that which we may call the clinching faculty — if it hesitates, veers, and flutters — suffers opportunity to pass, and stumbles at occasion? To reason well is much, no doubt; but reason loses the race, if it sits in meditation on the fence when com- petition rushes by. Under the best of circumstances, something must he left to hazard. There is a chance in all things. No man can so calculate odds in the affair^ t)f life as to insure a certainty. The screws and linchpins necessary to our puipose have not the inflexibility of a fate ; yet they must be trusted at some degree of risk. Our caaadle may be .put out by a puff of wind on the staii's, let it be sheltered ever so carefully. Betsy is a good cook, yet beefsteaks have beeft productive Sf strangu- lation. Does it then follow from this, that we are never to go to bedj except in the dark, and 'to abstain from breaking our fast until dinner is announced ? One may pause and reflect too much. There must be ac- tion, conclusion, result, or we are a failure, to alhintents and purposes — a self-confessed failure — defunct from thebegin« ning. And such was the case with Peleg W. Ponder, who never arrived at a conclusion, or contrived to reach a result. Peleg is alwdys " stumped" — he " don't know what to think" — he "can't tell what to say" — an unfinished gentleman, with a mind like ia, dusty garret, full, as it were, of rickety furniture, yet nothing serviceabloT — broken-backed chairs — three-legged tables — pitchers without a handle — cracked decanteis ai.J fractured looking-glasses — that museum of FELEG W. PONDER. 189 mutilations, in which housewifei-y rejoices, under the vague, but never-realized hope, that these things may eventually " come in play." Peleg's opinions lie about the workshop of his brain, in every stage of progress but the last — chips, sticks, and sawdust, enough, but no article ready to send home. Should you meet Peleg in the street, with " Good morn- ing, Peleg — how do you find yourself to-day ?" " Well — I don't know exactly — I'm pretty — no, not very — pray, how do you do, yourself?" Now, if a man does not know exactly, or nearly, how he is, after being up for several hours, and having had abundant time to investigate the ciixumstances of his case, it is useless to propound questions of opinion to such an individual. It is useless to attempt it with Peleg. "How do you do," puz- zles him — he is fearful of being too rash, and of making a reply which might not be fully justified by after-reflection. His head may be about to ache, and he has other suspicious feelings. " People are always asking njp how I do, and more than half the |ime I can't tell — there's a good many different sorts of ways of feeling betwixt and between ' Very sick, I thank you,' and ' Half dead, I'm obliged to you;" atid people won't stop to hear you explain the matter. They want to know right smack, when you don't know right smack yourself Sometimes you feel things a-coming, and just after, you feel things a-going. And nobody's exactly prime all the while. I ain't, anyhow — I'm kinder so just now, and I'm sorter t'other way just after. — Then, some people tell you that you look very well, when you don't feel very well — how then V At table, Peleg is not exactly sure what he will take; and sits looking slowly up and down the board, deliberating what he would like, until the rest of the company have'finished their repast,-there being often nothing left which suits' Pe leg's hesitating appetite. 190 neal's sketches. Peleg has never married — not that he is averse to the connubial state — on the contrary, he has a large share of the susceptibilities, and ia always partially in love. But female beauty is so various. At one time, Peleg is inclined to be- lieve that perfection lies in queenly dignity — the majesty of an empress fills his dreams ; and he looks down with disdain upon little people. He calls them " squabs," in derogation. But anon, in a more domestic mood, he thinks of fireside happiness and quiet bliss, declining from the epic poetry of loveliness, to the household wife, who might be disposed to bring him his slippers, and to darn the hole in his elbow. When in the tragic vein, he fancies a brunette ; and when the sunshine is on his soul, blue eyes are at a premium. Should woman possess the lightness of a sylph, or should her charms be of the more solid architecture ? Ought her countenance to beam in smiles, or will habitual pensiveness be the more interesting 1 Is sparkling brilliancy to be pre- ferred to gentle sweetness 1 " If there wasn't so many of them, I shouldn't be so bothered," said Peleg; " or, if they all looked alike, a man couldn't help himself. But yesterday, I wanted this one — to-day, I wfint that one ; and to-morrow, I'll want t'other one ; and how can I tell, if I should get this, or that, or t'other, that it wouldn't soon be somebody else that I really wanted 1 That's the difficulty. It always happens so with me. When the lady's most courted, and thinks I ought to speak out, then I begin to be skeered, for fear I've made a mistake, and have been thinking I loved her, when I didn't. May be it's not the right one — may be she won't suit — may be I might do better — may be I had better not venture at all, I wish there wasn't so many ' may-bes' about every- thing, especially in such affairs. I've got at least a dozen unfinished courtships on hand already." But all this happened a long time ago ; and Peleg has gradually lost sight of his fancy for making an addition to his household. Not -that he has concluded, even yet, to PELEG W. PONDER. 191 remain a bachelor. He would be alarmed at the bare men- tion of such an idea. He could not consent to be shelved in that decisive manner. But he has subsided from active "looking around" in pursuit of his object, into that calm irresponsible submissiveness, eharacteristic of the somewhat elderly bachelor, which _waits until she may chance to pre- sent herself spontaneously; and "come along" of her own accord. "Some day — some day," says Peleg ; "it will happen some day or other. What's the use of being in a hurry ]" Peleg W. Ponder's great object is now ambition. His personal affairs are somewhat embarrassed by his lack of enterprise ; and he hankers greatly for an office. But which side to join? Ay, there's the rub! Who will purvey the loaf and fish ] For whom shall Peleg shout? Behold him, as he puzzles over the returns of the state elections, laboring in vain to satisfy his mind as to the result in the presidential contest. Stupefied by figures — perplexed by contradictory statements — bothered by the general hur- rah ; what can Peleg do ? " Who's going to win ? That's all I vvant to know," ex- claims the vexed Peleg ; " I don't want to waste my time a blowing out for the wrong person, and never get a thank'e. What's the use of that? There's Simpkins — says I, Simp- kins, says I, which is the party that can't be beat. And Simpkins turns up his nose and tells me every fool knows that — it's his side — so I hurrah for Simpkins's side as hard as I can. But then comes Timpkins — Timpkins's side is t'other side from Simpkins's side, and Timpkins offers to bet me three levies that his side is the side that can't be beat. Hurrah! says I, for Timpkins's side! — and then I can't tell which side. " As for the newspapers, that's worse still. They not only crow all round, but they cipher it out so clear, that both sides must win, if there's any truth in the ciphering-book ; which there isn't about election times. What's to be done ? 19S neal's sketches. I've tried going to all the meetings — I'vehuri-aed for every* body — I've been In all the processions, and I sit a little while every evening in all sorts of headquarters. I've got one kind of documents in one pocket, and t'other kind of documents in t'other pocket; and as I go home at night, I sing one sort of song as loud as I can bawl half of the way, and try another sort of song the rest of the way, just to split the difference and show my impartiality. If I only had two votes — :a couple of 'em — how nice it would be. " But the best thing that can be done now, I guess, as my character is established both ways, is to turn in quietly till the row is all over. Nobody will miss me when they are so busy ; and afterward, when we know all about it, just look for Peleg W. Ponder as he comes down the street, shaking people by the hand, and saying how we have used them up. »I can't say so now, or I would — for I am not perfectly sure yet which is ' we,' or which is ' them.' Time enough when the election is over." It will thus be seen that Ponder is a remarkable person. Peter Schlemihl lost his shadow, and became memorably unhappy in consequence ; but what was bis misfortune when compared with that of the man who has no side ? What are shadows if weighed against sides ? And Peleg is almost afraid that he never will be able to get a side, so unlucky has he been heretofore. He begins to dread that both sides may be defeated ; and then, let us ask, what is to become of him 1 Must he stand aside 1 THE END. LIBRARY of F'^PHL^*««HCAN wORKS WITH OJiUSTBAnOKSBY BARLET. — h'le^iil llluininalml Covpr-*, Pubhshed ty — T. B. PETERSOK & BROTHERS. MAJOR JONES'S COURTSHIP. DRAMA IN POKERViLLE. CHARCOAL SKETCHES. DEER STALKERS. MISFORTUNES OF PETER FABER. MAJOR JONES'S SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. YANKEE AMONGST THE MERMAIDS. STREAKS OF SQUATTER LIFE. QUARTCR RACE IN KENTUCKY. SIMON SUGGS. WESTERN SCENES, OR LIFE ON THE PRAIRIE| YANKEE YARNS AND YANKEE LETTERS. MYSTERIES OF THE BACKWOODS BIG BEAR OF ARKANSAS. ADVENTURES OF PERCIYAL MAYBERRY. THE QUORNOON HOUNDS. MY SHOOTING BOX. MAJOR JONES'S CHRONICLES OF PINEVILLE.| STRAY SUBJECTS ARRESTED AND BOUND OVER. ADVENTURES OF FUDGE FUMBLE. ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN FARRAGO. PICKINGS FROM THE PICAYUNE. MAJOR O'RECAN'S ADVENTURES. PETER PLODDY. FOLLOWING THE DRUM. WIDOW rugby's HUSBAND. SOL. smith's THEATRICAL APPRENTICESHIP. SDL. SMITH'S THEATRICAL JOURNEY WORK. POLLY PEABLOSSOM'S WEDDING. WARWICK WOODLANDS. LOUISIANA SWAMP DOCTOR-. AUNT PATTY'S SCRAP BAG. t' NEW ORLEANS SKETCH BOOK. 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